that had wit enough for himself and me too. But shall I tell you what I
thought when I knew him (you will say nothing on't): 'twas the vainest,
impertinent, self-conceited, learned coxcomb that ever yet I saw; to say
more were to spoil his marriage, which I hear is towards with a daughter
of my Lord Coleraine's; but for his sake I shall take care of a fine
gentleman as long as I live.

Before I have quite ended with him, coming to town about that and some
other occasions of my own, I fell in Sir Thomas's way; and what humour
took I cannot imagine, but he made very formal addresses to me, and
engaged his mother and my brother to appear in't. This bred a story
pleasanter than any I have told you yet, but so long a one that I must
reserve it till we meet, or make it a letter of itself.

The next thing I designed to be rid on was a scurvy spleen that I have
been subject to, and to that purpose was advised to drink the waters.
There I spent the latter end of the summer, and at my coming home found
that a gentleman (who has some estate in this country) had been treating
with my brother, and it yet goes on fair and softly. I do not know him
so much as to give you much of his character: 'tis a modest, melancholy,
reserved man, whose head is so taken up with little philosophic studies,
that I admire how I found a room there. 'Twas sure by chance; and unless
he is pleased with that part of my humour which other people think the
worst, 'tis very possible the next new experiment may crowd me out
again. Thus you have all my late adventures, and almost as much as this
paper will hold. The rest shall be employed in telling you how sorry I
am you have got such a cold. I am the more sensible of your trouble by
my own, for I have newly got one myself. But I will send you that which
was to cure me. 'Tis like the rest of my medicines: if it do no good,
'twill be sure to do no harm, and 'twill be no great trouble to take a