have leisure. Farewell, dearest
MD, and love Presto, who loves MD infinitely above all earthly things,
and who will.--My service to Mrs. Stoyte and Catherine. I'm sitting in
my bed, but will rise to seal this. Morrow, dear rogues: Farewell again,
dearest MD, etc.

LETTER 35.

LONDON, NOV. 17, 1711.

I put my last this evening in the post-office. I dined with Dr.
Cockburn. This being Queen Elizabeth's birthday, we have the D---- and
all to do among us. I just heard of the stir as my letter was sealed
this morning, and was so cross I would not open it to tell you. I have
been visiting Lady Oglethorpe(1) and Lady Worsley;(2) the latter is
lately come to town for the winter, and with child, and what care
you? This is Queen Elizabeth's birthday, usually kept in this town
by apprentices, etc.; but the Whigs designed a mighty procession by
midnight, and had laid out a thousand pounds to dress up the Pope,
Devil, cardinals, Sacheverell, etc., and carry them with torches about,
and burn them. They did it by contribution. Garth gave five guineas; Dr.
Garth I mean, if ever you heard of him. But they were seized last night,
by order from the Secretary: you will have an account of it, for they
bawl it about the streets already.(3) They had some very foolish and
mischievous designs; and it was thought they would have put the rabble
upon assaulting my Lord Treasurer's house and the Secretary's, and other
violences. The militia was raised to prevent it, and now, I suppose,
all will be quiet. The figures are now at the Secretary's office at
Whitehall. I design to see them if I can.

18. I was this morning with Mr. Secretary, who just came from Hampton
Court. He was telling me more particulars about this business of burning
the Pope. It cost a great deal of money, and had it gone on, would have
cost three times as much; but the town is full of it, and half a dozen
Grub Street papers already. The Secretary and I dined at Brigadier
Britton's, but I left them at six, upon an appointment with some sober
company of men and ladies, to drink punch at Sir Andrew Fountaine's. We
were not very merry; and I don't love rack punch, I love it better with
brandy; are you of my opinion? Why then, twelvepenny weather; sirrahs,
why don't you play at shuttlecock? I have thought of it a hundred times;
faith, Presto will come over after Christmas, and will play with Stella
before the cold weather is gone. Do you read the Spectators? I never do;
t