Lewis was
telling me the particulars: but I had a hint given me, that I might save
him in the other employment: and leave was given me to clear matters
with Steele. Well, I dined with Sir Matthew Dudley, and in the evening
went to sit with Mr. Addison, and offer the matter at distance to him,
as the discreeter person; but found party had so possessed him, that
he talked as if he suspected me, and would not fall in with anything I
said. So I stopped short in my overture, and we parted very drily; and
I shall say nothing to Steele, and let them do as they will; but, if
things stand as they are, he will certainly lose it, unless I save him;
and therefore I will not speak to him, that I may not report to his
disadvantage. Is not this vexatious? and is there so much in the proverb
of proffered service? When shall I grow wise? I endeavour to act in the
most exact points of honour and conscience; and my nearest friends will
not understand it so. What must a man expect from his enemies? This
would vex me, but it shall not; and so I bid you good-night, etc.

23. I know 'tis neither wit nor diversion to tell you every day where I
dine; neither do I write it to fill my letter; but I fancy I shall,
some time or other, have the curiosity of seeing some particulars how
I passed my life when I was absent from MD this time; and so I tell you
now that I dined to-day at Molesworth's, the Florence Envoy, then
went to the Coffee-house, where I behaved myself coldly enough to Mr.
Addison, and so came home to scribble. We dine together to-morrow and
next day by invitation; but I shall alter my behaviour to him, till he
begs my pardon, or else we shall grow bare acquaintance. I am weary of
friends; and friendships are all monsters, but MD's.

24. I forgot to tell you, that last night I went to Mr. Harley's,
hoping--faith, I am blundering, for it was this very night at six; and I
hoped he would have told me all things were done and granted: but he
was abroad, and came home ill, and was gone to bed, much out of order,
unless the porter lied. I dined to-day at Sir Matthew Dudley's, with Mr.
Addison, etc.

25. I was to-day to see the Duke of Ormond; and, coming out, met Lord
Berkeley of Stratton,(9) who told me that Mrs. Temple,(10) the widow,
died last Saturday, which, I suppose, is much to the outward grief and
inward joy of the family. I dined to-day with Addison and Steele, and
a sister of Mr. Addison, who is married to one Mons. Sartre,(1