LETTER 47.[1]

London, May 31, 1712.

I cannot yet arrive to my journal letters, my pains continuing still, though with less violence; but I don’t love to write journals while I am in pain; and above all, not journals to MD.  But, however, I am so much mended, that I intend my next shall be in the old way; and yet I shall, perhaps, break my resolution when I feel pain.  I believe I have lost credit with you, in relation to my coming over; but I protest it is impossible for one who has anything to do with this Ministry to be certain when he fixes any time.  There is a business which, till it take some turn or other, I cannot leave this place in prudence or honour.  And I never wished so much as now that I had stayed in Ireland; but the die is cast, and is now a spinning, and till it settles, I cannot tell whether it be an ace or a sise.[2] I am confident by what you know yourselves, that you will justify me in all this.  The moment I am used ill, I will leave them; but know not how to do it while things are in suspense.  The session will soon be over (I believe in a fortnight), and the peace, we hope, will be made in a short time; and there will be no further occasion for me; nor have I anything to trust to but Court gratitude, so that I expect to see my willows[3] a month after the Parliament is up:  but I will take MD in my way, and not go to Laracor like an unmannerly spraenekich ferrow.[4] Have you seen my Letter to Lord Treasurer?  There are two answers come out to it already;[5] though it is no politics, but a harmless proposal about the improvement of the English Tongue.  I believe if I writ an essay upon a straw some fool would answer it.  About ten days hence I expect a letter from MD; N.30.—­You are now writing it, near the end, as I guess.—­I have not received DD’s money; but I will give you a note for it on Parvisol, and bed oo paadon[6] I have not done it before.  I am just now thinking to go lodge at Kensington for the air.  Lady Masham has teased me to do it, but business has hindered me; but now Lord Treasurer has removed thither.  Fifteen of our Society dined together under a canopy in an arbour at Parson’s Green[7] last Thursday:  I never saw anything so fine and romantic.  We got a great victory last Wednesday in the House of Lords by a majority, I think, of twenty-eight; and the Whigs had desired their friends to bespeak places to see Lord Treasurer carried to the Tower.[8] I met your Higgins[9] here yesterday:  he roars at the insolence of the Whigs in Ireland, talks much of his own sufferings and expenses in asserting the cause of the Church; and I find he would fain plead merit enough to desire that his fortune should be mended.  I believe he designs to make as much noise as he can in order to preferment.  Pray let the Provost, when he sees you, give you ten English shillings, and I will give as much here to the man who delivered me Rymer’s books:[10]