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16. I thought to have finished this yesterday; but was too much disturbed. I sent a letter early this morning to Lady Masham, to beg her to write some comforting words to the poor duchess. I dined to-day with Lady Masham at Kensington, where she is expecting these two months to lie in. She has promised me to get the queen to write to the duchess kindly on this occasion; and to-morrow I will beg lord-treasurer to visit and comfort her. I have been with her two hours again, and find her worse. Her violences not so frequent, but her melancholy more formal and settled. She has abundance of wit and spirit; about thirty-three years old; handsome and airy, and seldom spared any body that gave her the least provocation; by which she had many enemies, and few friends. Lady Orkney, her sister-inlaw, is come to town on this occasion, and has been to see her, and behaved herself with great humanity. They have been always very ill together, and the poor duchess could not have patience when people told her I went often to Lady Orkney's. But I am resolved to make them friends; for the duchess is now no more the object of envy, and must learn humility from the severest master, Affliction. I design to make the ministry put out a proclamation (if it can be found proper) against that villain Macartney. What shall we do with these murderers? I cannot end this letter to-night, and there is no occasion; for I cannot send it till Tuesday, and the coroner's inquest on the duke's body is to be to-morrow. And I shall know more. But what care you for all this? Yes, MD is sorry for Pdfr's friends; and this is a very surprising event. 'Tis late, and I'll go to bed. This looks like journals. Night.

17. I was to-day at noon with the Duchess of Hamil

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ton again, after I had been with Lady Orkney, and charged her to be kind to her sister in affliction. The duchess told me Lady Orkney had been with her, and that she did not treat her as gently as she ought. They hate one another, but I will try to patch it up. I have been drawing up a paragraph for the Post-Boy, to be out to-morrow, and as malicious as possible, and very proper for Abel Roper, the printer of it. I dined at lord-treasurer's at six in the evening, which is his usual hour of returning from Windsor: he promised to visit the duchess to-morrow, and says he has a message to her from the queen. 'Tis late: I have staid till past one with him. So night, dearest MD.

18. The committee of council is to sit this afternoon upon the affair of Duke Hamilton's murder, and I hope a proclamation will be out against Macartney. I was just now ('tis now noon) with the duchess, to let her know lord-treasurer will see her. She is mightily indisposed. The jury have not yet brought in their verdict upon the coroner's inquest. We suspect Macartney stabbed the duke while he was fighting. The queen and lord-treasurer are in great concern at this event. I dine to-day again with lord-treasurer; but must send this to the post-office before, because else I shall not have time; he usually keeps me so late. Ben Tooke bid me write to DD to send her certificate, for it is high time it should be sent, he says. Pray make Parvisol write to me, and send me a general account of my affairs; and let him know I shall be over in spring, and that by all means he sells the horses. Prior has kissed the queen's hand, and will return to France in a few days, and Lord Strafford to Holland; and now the King of Spain has renounced his pretensions to France,

You

the peace must follow very soon unavoidably. must no more call Philip, Duke of Anjou, for we now acknowledge him King of Spain. Dr Pratt tells me, you are all mad in Ireland with playhouse frolics and prologues, and I know not what. The Bishop of Clogher and his family are well: they have heard from you lately, or you from them, I have forgot which I dined there the other day; but the bishop came not till after dinner; and our meat and drink was very so so. Mr Vedeau was with me yesterday, and inquired after you. He was a lieutenant, and is now broke, and upon halfpay. He asked me nothing for himself; but wanted an employment for a friend, who would give a handsome pair of gloves. One Hales sent me up a letter the other day, which said you lodged in his house, and therefore desired I would get him a civil employment. I would not be within, and have directed my man to give him an answer, that I never open letters brought me by the writers, &c. I was complaining to a lady, that I wanted to mend an employment from forty to sixty pounds a-year, in the salt-office, and thought it hard I could not do it. She told me one Mr Griffin should do it. And afterward I met Griffin at her lodgings; and he was, as I found, one I had been acquainted with. I named Filby to him, and his abode somewhere near Nantwich. He said frankly, he had formerly examined the man, and found he understood very little of his business; but if he heard he mended, he would do what I desired. I will let it rest a while, and then resume it; and if Ppt writes to Filby, she may advise him to diligence, &c. I told Griffin positively I would have it done, if the man mended. This is an account of Ppt's commission to her most humble servant Pdfr. I have a

world of writing to finish, and little time; these toads of ministers are so slow in their helps. This makes me sometimes steal a week from the exactness I used to write to MD. Farewell, dearest little MD, &c. Smoke the folding of my letters of late.

LETTER LVI.

London, Dec. 12, 1712.

HERE is now a strange thing; a letter from MD unanswered: never was before. I am slower, and MD is faster but the last was owing to DD's certificate. Why could it not be sent before, pray now? Is it so hard for DD to prove she is alive? I protest solemnly I am not able to write to MD for other business, but I will renew my journal method next time. I find it is easier, though it contains nothing but where I dine, and the occurrences of the day. I will write now but once in three weeks till this business is off my hands, which must be in six, I think, at farthest. O! Ppt, I remember your reprimanding me for meddling in other people's affairs I have enough of it now, with a vengeance. Two women have been here six times a-piece; I never saw them yet. The first I have dispatched with a letter; the other I must see, and tell her I can do nothing for her she is wife of one Mr Connor, an old college acquaintance, and comes on a foolish errand, for some old pretensions, that will succeed when I am lord-treasurer. I am got up two pair of stairs, in a private lodging, and have ordered all my friends not to discover

where I am; yet every morning two or three sets are plaguing me, and my present servant has not yet his lesson perfect of denying me. I have written a hundred and thirty pages in folio, to be printed, and must write thirty more, which will make a large book of four shillings. * I wish I knew an opportunity of sending you some snuff. I will watch who goes to

God keep her so.

Ireland, and do it if possible. I had a letter from Parvisol, and find he has set my livings very low. Colonel Hamilton, who was second to Duke Hamilton, is tried to-day. I suppose he is come off, but have not heard. I dined with lord-treasurer, but left him by nine, and visited some people. Lady Betty, his daughter, will be married on Monday next (as I suppose) to the Marquis of Caermarthen. I did not know your country place had been Portraine, † till you told me so in your last. Has Swanton taken it of Wallis? That Wallis was a grave, wise coxcomb. God be thanked that Ppt is better of her disorders. The pamphlet of Political Lying is written by Dr Arbuthnot, the author of John Bull; 'tis very pretty, but not so obvious to be understood. Higgins, first chaplain to Duke Hamilton? Why, Duke Hamilton never dreamt of a chaplain, nor I believe ever heard of Higgins. You are glorious newsmongers in Ireland-Dean Francis, Sir Richard Levinge, stuff: and Pratt, more stuff. We have lost our fine frost here; and Abel Roper tells me you have had floods in Dublin; ho, have you? Oh ho! Swanton seized Portraine, now I understand you. Ay, ay, now I see Portraine at the top of

* History of the Peace of Utrecht.

† Or Portrain, about seven miles from Dublin.

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