eland. I fancy you will smoke me in the Tatler
I am going to write; for I believe I have told you the hint. I had a
letter sent me tonight from Sir Matthew Dudley, and found it on my table
when I came in. Because it is extraordinary, I will transcribe it from
beginning to end. It is as follows: "Is the Devil in you? Oct. 13,
1710." I would have answered every particular passage in it, only I
wanted time. Here is enough for to-night, such as it is, etc.

14. Is that tobacco at the top of the paper,(18) or what? I do not
remember I slobbered. Lord, I dreamt of Stella, etc., so confusedly last
night, and that we saw Dean Bolton(19) and Sterne(20) go into a shop:
and she bid me call them to her, and they proved to be two parsons I
know not; and I walked without till she was shifting, and such stuff,
mixed with much melancholy and uneasiness, and things not as they should
be, and I know not how: and it is now an ugly gloomy morning.--At night.
Mr. Addison and I dined with Ned Southwell, and walked in the Park; and
at the Coffee-house I found a letter from the Bishop of Clogher, and
a packet from MD. I opened the Bishop's letter; but put up MD's, and
visited a lady just come to town; and am now got into bed, and going to
open your little letter: and God send I may find MD well, and happy, and
merry, and that they love Presto as they do fires. Oh, I will not open
it yet! yes I will! no I will not! I am going; I cannot stay till I turn
over.(21) What shall I do? My fingers itch; and now I have it in my left
hand; and now I will open it this very moment.--I have just got it, and
am cracking the seal, and cannot imagine what is in it; I fear only some
letter from a bishop, and it comes too late; I shall employ nobody's
credit but my own. Well, I see though-- Pshaw, 'tis from Sir Andrew
Fountaine. What, another! I fancy that's from Mrs. Barton;(22) she told
me she would write to me; but she writes a better hand than this: I wish
you would inquire; it must be at Dawson's(23) office at the Castle.
I fear this is from Patty Rolt, by the scrawl. Well, I will read MD's
letter. Ah, no; it is from poor Lady Berkeley, to invite me to Berkeley
Castle this winter; and now it grieves my heart: she says, she hopes my
lord is in a fair way of recovery;(24) poor lady! Well, now I go to MD's
letter: faith, it is all right; I hoped it was wrong. Your letter, N.3,
that I have now received, is dated Sept. 26; and Manley's letter, that
I had five day