26.  I forgot to finish this letter this morning, and am come home so late I must give it to the bellman; but I would have it go to-night, lest you should think there is anything in the story of my being arrested in an action of twenty thousand pounds by Lord Marlborough, which I hear is in Dyer’s Letter,[18] and, consequently, I suppose, gone to Ireland.  Farewell, dearest MD, etc. etc.

LETTER 40.

London, Jan. 26, 1711-12.

I have no gilt paper left of this size, so you must be content with plain.  Our Society dined together today, for it was put off, as I told you, upon Lord Marlborough’s business on Thursday.  The Duke of Ormond dined with us to-day, the first time:  we were thirteen at table; and Lord Lansdowne came in after dinner, so that we wanted but three.  The Secretary proposed the Duke of Beaufort, who desires to be one of our Society; but I stopped it, because the Duke of Ormond doubts a little about it; and he was gone before it was proposed.  I left them at seven, and sat this evening with poor Mrs. Wesley, who has been mightily ill to-day with a fainting fit; she has often convulsions, too:  she takes a mixture with asafoetida, which I have now in my nose, and everything smells of it.  I never smelt it before; ’tis abominable.  We have eight packets, they say, due from Ireland.

27.  I could not see Prince Eugene at Court to-day, the crowd was so great.  The Whigs contrive to have a crowd always about him, and employ the rabble to give the word, when he sets out from any place.  When the Duchess of Hamilton came from the Queen after church, she whispered me that she was going to pay me a visit.  I went to Lady Oglethorpe’s, the place appointed; for ladies always visit me in third places; and she kept me till near four:  she talks too much, is a plaguy detractor, and I believe I shall not much like her.  I was engaged to dine with Lord Masham:  they stayed as long as they could, yet had almost dined, and were going in anger to pull down the brass peg for my hat, but Lady Masham saved it.  At eight I went again to Lord Masham’s; Lord Treasurer is generally there at night:  we sat up till almost two.  Lord Treasurer has engaged me to contrive some way to keep the Archbishop of York[1] from being seduced by Lord Nottingham.  I will do what I can in it to-morrow.  ’Tis very late, so I must go sleep.

28.  Poor Mrs. Manley, the author, is very ill of a dropsy and sore leg:  the printer tells me he is afraid she cannot live long.  I am heartily sorry for her:  she has very generous principles for one of her sort, and a great deal of good sense and invention:  she is about forty, very homely, and very fat.  Mrs. Van made me dine with her to-day.  I was this morning with the Duke of Ormond and the Prolocutor about what Lord Treasurer spoke to me yesterday; I know not what will be the issue.  There is but a slender majority in the