Walk fast in snow,
  In frost walk slow,
  And still as you go,
  Tread on your toe: 

  When frost and snow are both together,
  Sit by the fire and spare shoe leather.

22. Morning.  Starving, starving, uth, uth, uth, uth, uth.—­Do not you remember I used to come into your chamber, and turn Stella out of her chair, and rake up the fire in a cold morning, and cry uth, uth, uth?  O faith, I must rise, my hand is so cold I can write no more....

26, 27, 28, 29, 30.  I have been so lazy and negligent these last four days, that I could not write to MD.  My head is not in order, and yet it is not absolutely ill, but giddyish, and makes me listless; I walk every day, and hope I shall grow better.  I wish I were with MD; I long for spring and good weather, and then I will come over.  My riding in Ireland keeps me well.  I am very temperate, and eat of the easiest meats as I am directed, and hope the malignity will go off; but one fit shakes me a long time.  I dined to-day with Lord Mountjoy, yesterday at Mr. Stone’s in the city, on Sunday at Vanhomrigh’s, Saturday with Ford, and Friday I think at Vanhomrigh’s, and that’s all the journal I can send MD; for I was so lazy while I was well that I could not write.  I thought to have sent this to-night, but it is ten, and I’ll go to bed, and write on the other side to Parsivol to-morrow, and send it on Thursday; and so good night my dears, and love Presto, and be healthy, and Presto will be so too.

To LORD TREASURER OXFORD

The Dean makes his bow

1 July, 1714.

MY LORD,

When I was with you, I have said more than once, that I would never allow quality or station made any real difference between men.  Being now absent and forgotten, I have changed my mind:  you have a thousand people who can pretend they love you, with as much appearance of sincerity as I, so that, according to common justice, I can have but a thousandth part in return of what I give.  And this difference is wholly owing to your station.  And the misfortune is still the greater, because I always loved you just so much the worse for your station:  for, in your public capacity, you have often angered me to the heart, but, as a private man, never once.  So that, if I only look toward myself, I could wish you a private man to-morrow:  for I have nothing to ask; at least nothing that you will give, which is the same thing:  and then you would see whether I should not with much more willingness attend you in a retirement, whenever you please to give me leave, than ever I did at London or Windsor.  From these sentiments I will never write to you, if I can help it, otherwise than as to a private person, or allow myself to have been obliged to you in any other capacity.