being grown
mighty kind of a sudden; but, God knows, it will last but a little
while, I dare swear. Knepp did her part mighty well. And so home
straight, and to work, and particularly to my cozen Roger, who, W.
Hewer and my wife writes me, do use them with mighty plenty and noble
entertainment: so home to supper, and to bed. All the news now is, that
Mr. Trevor is for certain now to be Secretary, in Morrice's place, which
the Duke of York did himself tell me yesterday; and also that Parliament
is to be adjourned to the 1st of March, which do please me well, hoping
thereby to get my things in a little better order than I should have
done; and the less attendances at that end of the town in winter. So
home to supper and to bed.

20th (Lord's day). Up, and to set some papers to rights in my chamber,
and the like in my office, and so to church, at our own church, and
heard but a dull sermon of one Dr. Hicks, who is a suitor to Mrs.
Howell, the widow of our turner of the Navy; thence home to dinner,
staying till past one o'clock for Harris, whom I invited, and to bring
Shadwell the poet with him; but they come not, and so a good dinner
lost, through my own folly. And so to dinner alone, having since church
heard the boy read over Dryden's Reply to Sir R. Howard's Answer, about
his Essay of Poesy, and a letter in answer to that; the last whereof is
mighty silly, in behalf of Howard.

[The title of the letter is as follows: "A Letter from a Gentleman
to the Honourable Ed. Howard, Esq., occasioned by a Civiliz'd
Epistle of Mr. Dryden's before his Second Edition of his Indian
Emperour. In the Savoy, printed by Thomas Newcomb, 1668." The
"Civiliz'd Epistle" was a caustic attack on Sir Robert Howard; and
the Letter is signed, "Sir, your faithful and humble servant, R.
F."--i.e., Richard Flecknoe.]

Thence walked forth and got a coach and to visit Mrs. Pierce, with
whom, and him, I staid a little while, and do hear how the Duchesse of
Monmouth is at this time in great trouble of the shortness of her lame
leg, which is likely to grow shorter and shorter, that she will never
recover it. Thence to St. Margaret's Church, thinking to have seen Betty
Michell, but she was not there. So back, and walked to Gray's Inn walks
a while, but little company; and so over the fields to Clerkenwell, to
see whether I could find that the fair Botelers do live there still,
I seeing Frances the other day in a coa