afternoon with Sir Matthew Dudley(2) and Will
Frankland, the rest at St. James's Coffee-house, I came home, and writ
to the Archbishop of Dublin and MD, and am going to bed. I forgot to
tell you, that I begged Will Frankland to stand Manley's(3) friend with
his father in this shaking season for places. He told me, his father
was in danger to be out; that several were now soliciting for Manley's
place; that he was accused of opening letters; that Sir Thomas
Frankland(4) would sacrifice everything to save himself; and in that, I
fear, Manley is undone, etc.

10. To-day I dined with Lord Mountjoy at Kensington; saw my mistress,
Ophy Butler's(5) wife, who is grown a little charmless. I sat till ten
in the evening with Addison and Steele: Steele will certainly lose his
Gazetteer's place, all the world detesting his engaging in parties.(6)
At ten I went to the Coffee-house, hoping to find Lord Radnor,(7) whom I
had not seen. He was there; and for an hour and a half we talked treason
heartily against the Whigs, their baseness and ingratitude. And I
am come home, rolling resentments in my mind, and framing schemes of
revenge: full of which (having written down some hints) I go to bed.
I am afraid MD dined at home, because it is Sunday; and there was the
little half-pint of wine: for God's sake, be good girls, and all will be
well. Ben Tooke(8) was with me this morning.

11. Seven, morning. I am rising to go to Jervas to finish my picture,
and 'tis shaving-day, so good-morrow MD; but don't keep me now, for I
can't stay; and pray dine with the Dean, but don't lose your money. I
long to hear from you, etc.--Ten at night. I sat four hours this morning
to Jervas, who has given my picture quite another turn, and now approves
it entirely; but we must have the approbation of the town. If I were
rich enough, I would get a copy of it, and bring it over. Mr. Addison
and I dined together at his lodgings, and I sat with him part of this
evening; and I am now come home to write an hour. Patrick(9) observes,
that the rabble here are much more inquisitive in politics than
in Ireland. Every day we expect changes, and the Parliament to be
dissolved. Lord Wharton expects every day to be out: he is working like
a horse for elections; and, in short, I never saw so great a ferment
among all sorts of people. I had a miserable letter from Joe last
Saturday, telling me Mr. Pratt(10) refuses payment of his money. I
have told it Mr. Addison, and will t