provoke me, or I shall order you two nightcaps, (which, by the way, would do your eyes good,) and put a little of any French liqueur into your water; they are nothing but brandy and sugar; and among their various flavours, some of them may surely be palatable enough, The pain in your feet I can bear; but shudder at the sickness of your stomach and the weakness that still continues.  I conjure you, as you love yourself—­I conjure you by Strawberry, not to trifle with these edge-tools.  There is no cure for the gout, when in the stomach, but to throw it into the limbs; There is no relief for gout in the limbs, but in gentle warmth and gradual perspiration.”  Works, vol. iv. p. 68.-E.

(905) Madame du Deffand.-E.

(906) Prefixed to some copies of the Duchess’s work, entitled “The World’s Olio,—­Nature’s Pictures drawn by Fancy’s Pencil to the life,” (folio, London, 1653,) is a print, Diepenbeck, del., P. Clouvet sc., half sheet, containing portraits of William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle, (celebrated as a Cavalier general during the civil wars, and commonly styled the loyal Duke of Newcastle,) his Duchess, and their family.-E.

(907) This miniature eventually became his property.  In a letter from madame du Deffand of the 12th of December 1775, she says:- -"J’ai Madame d’Olonne entre les mains; vous voil`a au comble de la joie; mais moderez-en la, en apprenant que ses galans ne la payaient pas plus cher de son vivant que vous ne la payez apr`es sa mort; (@lle vous coute trois mille deux cents livres."-E.

Letter 280 To The Right Hon. Lady Hervey.  Paris, Nov. 21, 1765. (page 444)

Madame Geoffrin has given me a parcel for your ladyship with two knotting-bags, which I will send by the first opportunity that seems safe:’—­but I hear of nothing but difficulties; and shall, I believe, be saved from ruin myself, from not being able to convey any purchases into England.  Thus I shall have made an almost fruitless journey to France, if I can neither fling away my money, nor preserve my health.  At present, indeed, the gout is gone.  I have had my house swept, and made as clean as I could-no very easy matter in this country; but I live in dread of seven worse spirits entering in.  The terror I am under of a new fit has kept me from almost seeing any thing.  The damps and fogs are full as great and frequent here as in London; but there is a little frost to-day, and I shall begin my devotions tomorrow.  It is not being fashionable to visit churches:  but I am de la vieille cour; and I beg your ladyship to believe that I have no youthful pretensions.  The Duchess of Richmond tells me that they have made twenty foolish stories about me in England; and say that my person is admired here.  I cannot help what is said without foundation; but the French have neither lost their eyes, nor I my senses.  A skeleton I was born—­skeleton I am—­and death will have no trouble in