sold yesterday
a thousand of Prior's Journey, and had printed five hundred more. It
will do rarely, I believe, and is a pure bite. And what is MD doing all
this while? got again to their cards, their Walls, their deans, their
Stoytes, and their claret? Pray present my service to Mr. Stoyte and
Catherine. Tell Goody Stoyte she owes me a world of dinners, and I will
shortly come over and demand them.--Did I tell you of the Archbishop of
Dublin's last letter? He had been saying, in several of his former, that
he would shortly write to me something about myself; and it looked as if
he intended something for me: at last out it comes, and consists of two
parts. First, he advises me to strike in for some preferment now I have
friends; and secondly, he advises me, since I have parts, and learning,
and a happy pen, to think of some new subject in divinity not handled
by others, which I should manage better than anybody. A rare spark this,
with a pox! but I shall answer him as rarely. Methinks he should have
invited me over, and given me some hopes or promises. But hang him! and
so good-night, etc.

13. It rained most furiously all this morning till about twelve, and
sometimes thundered; I trembled for my shillings, but it cleared up,
and I made a shift to get a walk in the Park, and then went with the
Secretary to dine with Lord Treasurer. Upon Thursdays there is always
a select company: we had the Duke of Shrewsbury, Lord Rivers, the two
Secretaries, Mr. Granville, and Mr. Prior. Half of them went to Council
at six; but Rivers, Granville, Prior, and I, stayed till eight. Prior
was often affecting to be angry at the account of his journey to Paris;
and indeed the two last pages, which the printer got somebody to add,(4)
are so romantic, they spoil all the rest. Dilly Ashe pretended to me
that he was only going to Oxford and Cambridge for a fortnight, and then
would come back. I could not see him as I appointed t'other day; but
some of his friends tell me he took leave of them as going to Ireland;
and so they say at his lodging. I believe the rogue was ashamed to tell
me so, because I advised him to stay the winter, and he said he would.
I find he had got into a good set of scrub acquaintance, and I thought
passed his time very merrily; but I suppose he languished after
Balderig, and the claret of Dublin; and, after all, I think he is in
the right; for he can eat, drink, and converse better there than here.
Bernage was with me t