ve to the Coffee-house, where the rain kept me till nine. I had
letters to-day from the Archbishop of Dublin and Mr. Bernage;(7) the
latter sends me a melancholy account of Lady Shelburne's(8) death, and
his own disappointments, and would gladly be a captain; if I can help
him, I will.

27. Morning. I bespoke a lodging over the way for tomorrow, and the dog
let it yesterday to another; I gave him no earnest, so it seems he could
do it; Patrick would have had me give him earnest to bind him; but I
would not. So I must go saunter to-day for a lodging somewhere else.
Did you ever see so open a winter in England? We have not had two frosty
days; but it pays it off in rain: we have not had three fair days
these six weeks. O, faith, I dreamt mightily of MD last night; but so
confused, I cannot tell a word. I have made Ford acquainted with Lewis;
and to-day we dined together: in the evening I called at one or two
neighbours, hoping to spend a Christmas evening; but none were at home,
they were all gone to be merry with others. I have often observed this,
that in merry times everybody is abroad; where the deuce are they? So
I went to the Coffee-house, and talked with Mr. Addison an hour, who at
last remembered to give me two letters, which I cannot answer to-night,
nor to-morrow neither, I can assure you, young women, count upon that. I
have other things to do than to answer naughty girls, an old saying and
true,

Letters from MD's
Must not be answered in ten days:

it is but bad rhyme, etc.

28. To-day I had a message from Sir Thomas Hanmer, to dine with him; the
famous Dr. Smalridge(9) was of the company, and we sat till six; and I
came home to my new lodgings in St. Albans Street,(10) where I pay the
same rent (eight shillings a week) for an apartment two pair of stairs;
but I have the use of the parlour to receive persons of quality, and I
am got into my new bed, etc.

29. Sir Andrew Fountaine has been very ill this week; and sent to me
early this morning to have prayers, which you know is the last thing. I
found the doctors and all in despair about him. I read prayers to him,
found he had settled all things; and, when I came out, the nurse asked
me whether I thought it possible he could live; for the doctors thought
not. I said, I believed he would live; for I found the seeds of life
in him, which I observe seldom fail (and I found them in poor, dearest
Stella, when she was ill many years ago); and to-night