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 leav