approve the steps already made toward the peace, and had
an Address perhaps from them to conclude without the Dutch, if they
would not agree.--Others are of my mind, but it is not reckoned so safe,
it seems; yet I doubt whether the peace will be ready so soon as three
weeks, but that is a secret. Nite MD.

12. Pratt and I walked into the City to one Bateman's,(15) a famous
bookseller, for old books. There I laid out four pounds like a fool,
and we dined at a hedge ale-house, for two shillings and twopence,
like emperors. Let me see, I bought Plutarch, two volumes, for thirty
shillings, etc. Well, I'll tell you no more; oo don't understand
Greek.(16) We have no news, and I have nothing more to say to-day, and
I can't finish my work. These Ministers will not find time to do what I
would have them. So nite, nown dee dallars.

13. I was to have dined to-day with Lord Keeper, but would not, because
that brute Sir John Walter(17) was to be one of the company. You may
remember he railed at me last summer was twelvemonth at Windsor, and has
never begged my pardon, though he promised to do it; and Lord Mansel,
who was one of the company, would certainly have set us together by
the ears, out of pure roguish mischief. So I dined with Lord Treasurer,
where there was none but Lord Bolingbroke. I stayed till eight, and then
went to Lady Orkney's, who has been sick, and sat with her till twelve,
from whence you may consider it is late, sollahs. The Parliament was
prorogued to-day, as I told you, for three weeks. Our weather is very
bad and slobbery, and I shall spoil my new hat (I have bought a new
hat), or empty my pockets. Does Hawkshaw pay the interest he owes? Lord
Abercorn plagues me to death. I have now not above six people to provide
for, and about as many to do good offices to; and thrice as many that I
will do nothing for; nor can I if I would. Nite dee MD.

14. To-day I took the circle of morning visits. I went to the Duchess of
Ormond, and there was she, and Lady Betty, and Lord Ashburnham together:
this was the first time the mother and daughter saw each other since
Lady Ashburnham's death. They were both in tears, and I chid them for
being together, and made Lady Betty go to her own chamber; then sat a
while with the Duchess, and went after Lady Betty, and all was well.
There is something of farce in all these mournings, let them be ever
so serious. People will pretend to grieve more than they really do,
and that takes