een, because the author is his friend; but the Duke desired I would
let him know whether it was good for anything. I brought it home, and
will return it to-morrow, as the dullest thing I ever read; and advise
the Duke not to present it. I dined with Domville at his lodgings, by
invitation; for he goes in a few days for Ireland. Nite dee MD.

25. There is a mighty feast at a Tory sheriff's to-day in the City:
twelve hundred dishes of meat.--Above five lords, and several hundred
gentlemen, will be there, and give four or five guineas apiece,
according to custom. Dr. Coghill and I dined, by invitation, at Mrs.
Van's. It has rained or mizzled all day, as my pockets feel. There are
two new answers come out to the Conduct of the Allies. The last year's
Examiners, printed together in a small volume, go off but slowly. The
printer over-printed himself by at least a thousand; so soon out of
fashion are party papers, however so well writ. The Medleys are coming
out in the same volume, and perhaps may sell better. Our news about a
cessation of arms begins to flag, and I have not these three days seen
anybody in business to ask them about it. We had a terrible fire last
night in Drury Lane, or thereabouts, and three or four people destroyed.
One of the maids of honour has the smallpox; but the best is, she can
lose no beauty; and we have one new handsome maid of honour. Nite MD.

26. I forgot to tell you that on Sunday last, about seven at night,
it lightened above fifty times as I walked the Mall, which I think is
extraordinary at this time of the year, and the weather was very
hot. Had you anything of this in Dublin? I intended to dine with Lord
Treasurer to-day; but Lord Mansel and Mr. Lewis made me dine with them
at Kit Musgrave's.(6) I sat the evening with Mrs. Wesley, who goes
to-morrow morning to the Bath. She is much better than she was. The news
of the French desiring a cessation of arms, etc., was but town talk. We
shall know in a few days, as I am told, whether there will be a peace
or not. The Duke of Ormond will go in a week for Flanders, they say.
Our Mohocks go on still, and cut people's faces every night; fais, they
shan't cut mine, I like it better as it is. The dogs will cost me at
least a crown a week in chairs. I believe the souls of your houghers of
cattle have got into them, and now they don't distinguish between a cow
and a Christian. I forgot to wish you yesterday a happy New Year. You
know the twenty-fifth