*

awry with writing in bed. O faith, but I must answer it, or I shall not have room, for it must go on Saturday ; and do not think I will fill the third side, I am not come to that yet, young women. Well then, as for your Bernage, I have said enough: I writ to him last week.— Turn over that leaf. Now, what says MD to the world to come? I tell you, Madam Stella, my head is a great deal better, and I hope will keep so. How came yours to be fifteen days coming, and you had my fifteenth in seven ? answer me that, rogues. Your being with Goody Walls is excuse enough: I find I was mistaken in the sex, it is a boy. Yes, I understand your cypher, and Stella guesses right, as she always does. He gave me al bsadnuk lboinlpl dfaonr ufainfbtoy dpionufnad, t which I sent him again by Mr Lewis, to whom I writ a very complaining letter that was showed him; and so the matter ended. He told me he had a quarrel with me; I said I had another with him, and we returned to our friendship, and I should think he loves me as well as a great minister can love a man in so short a time. Did not I do right? I am glad at heart you have got your palsy water; pray God Almighty it may do my dearest Stella good. I suppose Mrs Edgworth set out last Monday seʼennight. Yes, I do read the Examiners, and they are written very finely as you judge. I do not think they are too severe on the duke; they only tax him of avarice, and his avarice has ruined us. You may count upon all things in them to be true. The author has said, it is not Prior; but perhaps it may be Atter

* Mr Harley.

+ A bank bill for fifty pounds. See before Journal of February 8, 1710-11.

bury.-Now, Madam Dingley, says she, it is fine weather, says she; yes, says she, and we have got to our new lodgings. I compute you ought to save eight pounds by being in the others five months; and you have no more done it than eight thousand. I am glad you are rid of that squinting, blinking Frenchman. I will give you a bill on Parvisol for five pound for the half year. And must I go on at four shillings a-week, and neither eat nor drink for it ?-Who the D- said Atterbury and your dean were alike? I never saw your chancellor, nor his chaplain. The latter has a good deal of learning, and is a well wisher to be an author: your chancellor is an excellent man. As for Patrick's bird, he bought him for his tameness, and is grown the wildest I ever saw. His wings have been quilled thrice, and are now up again: he will be able to fly after us to Ireland, if he be willing.-Yes, Mrs Stella, Dingley writes more like Presto than you; for all you superscribed the letter, as who should say, why should not I write like our Presto as well as Dingley? You with your awkward SS; cannot you write them thus, SS? No, but always SSS. Spiteful sluts, to affront Presto's writing; as that when you shut your eyes you write most like Presto. I know the time when I did not write to you half so plain as I do now; but I take pity on you both. I am very much concerned for Mrs Walls's eyes. Walls says nothing of it to me in his letter dated after yours. You say, if she recovers she may lose her sight. I hope she is in no danger of her life. Yes, Ford is as sober, as I please: I use him to walk with me as an easy companion, always ready for what I please, when I am weary of business and ministers. I do not go to a coffeehouse twice a month. I am very regular in going to sleep before eleven. And so you

say that Stella's a pretty girl; and so she be, and methinks I see her now as handsome as the day is long. Do you know what? when I am writing in our language * I make up my mouth just as if I was speaking it. I caught myself at it just now. And I suppose Dingley is so fair and so fresh as a lass in May, and has her health, and no spleen.-In your account you sent, do you reckon as usual from the 1st of November was twelvemonth? poor Stella, will not Dingley leave her a little day-light to write to Presto? well, well, we will have day-light shortly, spite of her teeth; and zoo † must cly Lele, and Hele, and Hele aden. mimitate Pdfr, pay? Iss, and so la shall. fol ee rettle. Dood mollow.-At night. sent this morning to invite me to dinner: and there I dined, just in that genteel manner that MD used when they would treat some better sort of body than usual.

Must loo And so leles

Mrs Barton

8. O dear MD, my heart is almost broken. You will hear the thing before this comes to you. I writ a full account of it this night to the Archbishop of Dublin; and the dean may tell you the particulars from the archbishop. I was in a sorry way to write, but thought it might be proper to send a true account of the fact; for you will hear a thousand lying circumstances. It is of Mr Harley's being stabbed this afternoon at three o'clock at a committee of the council. I was playing Lady Catherine Morris's cards, where I dined, when young Arun

* Many passages are spelled according to the little language so often mentioned, of which the reader will presently find a speci

men.

+"And you must cry There, and Here, and Here again. Must you imitate Presto, pray? Yes, and so you shall. And so there's for your letter. Good morrow."

del came in with the story. I ran away immediately to the secretary, which was in my way: no one was at home. I met Mrs St John in her chair; she had heard it imperfectly. I took a chair to Mr Harley, who was asleep, and they hope in no danger; but he has been out of order, and was so when he came abroad to-day, and it may put him in a fever: I am in mortal pain for him. That desperate French villain, Marquis de Guiscard, stabbed Mr Harley. * Guiscard was taken up by

Mr Secretary St John's warrant for high treason, and brought before the lords to be examined; there he stabbed Mr Harley. I have told all the particulars already to the archbishop. I have now at nine sent again, and they tell me he is in a fair way. Pray pardon my distraction! I now think of all his kindness to me.-The poor creature now lies stabbed in his bed by a desperate

* The Count, or Abbé de Guiscard, a malcontent Frenchman of quality, was taken into some favour during the ministry of Godolphin, had a foreign regiment in British pay, and a pension from the queen. But having fallen into indigence, partly from his own prodigality, and partly from being neglected by the new administration, he resolved to improve his finances by opening a treasonable correspondence with France. Being detected, apprehended for high treason, and brought before the Council-board for examination, he wounded Mr Harley with a penknife in a fit of despair, and received himself so many stabs and bruises from the counsellors present, and from the messengers who rushed in to apprehend him, that he died in prison. The whole transaction is minutely narrated in a narrative, drawn up by Mrs Manley, under Swift's direction, and reprinted in this edition of his works.

The broken manner in which Swift tells the tale, at once does honour to his feelings, and to the warmth of his friendship for Harley.

French Popish villain. Good night, and God preserve you both, and pity me; I want it.

9. Morning; seven, in bed. Patrick is just come from Mr Harley's. He slept well till four; the surgeon sat up with him he is asleep again: he felt a pain in his wound when he waked: they apprehend him in no danger. This account the surgeon left with the porter, to tell people that send. Pray God preserve him. I am rising and going to Mr Secretary St John. They say Guiscard will die with the wounds Mr St John and the rest gave him. I shall tell you more at night.-Night. Mr Harley still continues on the mending hand; but he rested ill last night, and felt pain. I was early with the secretary this morning, and I dined with him, and he told me several particularities of this accident, too long to relate now. Mr Harley is still mending this evening, but not at all out of danger; and till then I can have no peace. Good night, &c. and pity Presto.

Mr

10. Mr Harley was restless last night; but he has no fever, and the hopes of mending increases. I had a letter from Mr Walls, and one from Mr Bernage. I will answer them here, not having time to write. Walls writes about three things; First, about a hundred pounds from Dr Raymond, of which I hear nothing, and it is now too late. Secondly, about Mr Clements : I can do nothing in it, because I am not to mention Mr Pratt; and I cannot recommend without knowing Mr Pratt's objections, whose relation Clements is, and who brought him into the place. The third is about my being godfather to the child: that is in my power, and (since there is no remedy) will submit. I wish you could hinder it; but if it cannot be helped, pay what