whenever he received any against me, he would immediately put them into the fire, and forget them, else I should have no quiet.  I had a little turn in my head this morning; which, though it did not last above a moment, yet being of the true sort, has made me as weak as a dog all this day.  ’Tis the first I have had this half-year.  I shall take my pills if I hear of it again.  I dined at Lady Mountjoy’s with Harry Coote,[2] and went to see Lord Pembroke upon his coming to town.—­The Whig party are furious against a peace, and every day some ballad comes out reflecting on the Ministry on that account.  The Secretary St. John has seized on a dozen booksellers and publishers into his messengers’ hands.[3] Some of the foreign Ministers have published the preliminaries agreed on here between France and England; and people rail at them as insufficient to treat a peace upon; but the secret is, that the French have agreed to articles much more important, which our Ministers have not communicated, and the people, who think they know all, are discontented that there is no more.  This was an inconvenience I foretold to the Secretary, but we could contrive no way to fence against it.  So there’s politics for you.

25.  The Queen is at Hampton Court:  she went on Tuesday in that terrible rain.  I dined with Lewis at his lodgings, to despatch some business we had.  I sent this morning and evening to Lord Treasurer, and he is much worse by going out; I am in pain about evening.  He has sent for Dr. Radcliffe; pray God preserve him.  The Chancellor of the Exchequer[4] showed me to-day a ballad[5] in manuscript against Lord Treasurer and his South Sea project; it is very sharply written:  if it be not printed, I will send it you.  If it be, it shall go in your packet of pamphlets.—­I found out your letter about directions for the apron, and have ordered to be bought a cheap green silk work apron; I have it by heart.  I sat this evening with Mrs. Barton, who is my near neighbour.  It was a delicious day, and I got my walk, and was thinking whether MD was walking too just at that time that Presto was.  This paper does not cost me a farthing, I have it from the Secretary’s office.  I long till to-morrow to know how my Lord Treasurer sleeps this night, and to hear he mends:  we are all undone without him; so pray for him, sirrahs, and don’t stay too late at the Dean’s.

26.  I dined with Mrs. Van; for the weather is so bad, and I am so busy, that I can’t dine with great folks:  and besides I dare eat but little, to keep my head in order, which is better.  Lord Treasurer is very ill, but I hope in no danger.  We have no quiet with the Whigs, they are so violent against a peace; but I’ll cool them, with a vengeance, very soon.  I have not heard from the Bishop of Clogher, whether he has got his statues.[6] I writ to him six weeks ago; he’s so busy with his Parliament.  I won’t answer your letter yet, say what you will, saucy girls.