the wretched people have not subsistence.  A pound of bread sells at Dresden for eleven-pence.  We are going to send many more troops thither; and it Is so much the fashion to raise regiments, that I wish there were such a neutral kind of beings in England as abb`es, that one might have an excuse for not growing military mad, when one has turned the heroic corner of one’s age.  I am ashamed of being a young rake, when my seniors are covering their gray toupees with helmets and feathers, and accoutering their pot-bellies with cuirasses and martial masquerade habits.  Yet rake I am, and abominably so, for a person that begins to wrinkle reverently.  I have sat up twice this week till between two and three with the Duchess of Grafton, at loo, who, by the way, has got a pam-child this morning; and on Saturday night I supped with Prince Edward at my Lady Rochford’s, and we stayed till half an hour past three.  My favour with that Highness continues, or rather increases.  He makes every body make suppers for him to meet me, for I still hold out against going to court.  In short, if he were twenty years older, or I could make myself twenty years younger, I might carry him to Camden-house, and be as impertinent as ever my Lady Churchill was; but, as I dread being ridiculous, I shall give my Lord Bute no uneasiness.  My Lady Maynard, who divides the favour of this tiny court with me,- supped with us.  Did you know she sings French ballads very prettily?  Lord Rochford played on the guitar, and the Prince sung; there were my two nieces, and Lord Waldegrave, Lord Huntingdon, and Mr. Morrison the groom, and the evening was pleasant; but I had a much more agreeable supper last night at Mrs. Clive’s, with Miss West, my niece Cholmondeley, and Murphy, the writing actor, who is very good company, and two or three more.  Mrs. Cholmondeley is very lively; you know how entertaining the Clive is, and Miss West is an absolute original.

There is nothing new, but a very dull pamphlet, written by Lord Bath, and his chaplain Douglas, called a Letter to Two Great Men.  It is a plan for the peace, and much adopted by the city, and much admired by all who are too humble to judge for themselves.

I was much diverted the other morning with another volume on birds, by Edwards, who has published four or five.  The poor man, who is grown very old and devout, begs God to take from him the love of natural philosophy; and having observed some heterodox proceedings among bantam cocks, he proposes that all schools of girls and boys should be promiscuous, lest, if separated, they should learn wayward passions.  But what struck me most were his dedications, the last was to God; this is to Lord Bute, as if he was determined to make his fortune in one world or the other.