19.  I was invited to-day to dine with Mrs. Van, with some company who did not come; but I ate nothing but herrings; you must know I hardly ever eat of above one thing, and that the plainest ordinary meat at table; I love it best, and believe it wholesomest.  You love rarities; yes you do; I wish you had all that I ever see where I go.  I was coming home early, and met the Secretary in his chair, who persuaded me to go with him to Britton’s; for he said he had been all day at business, and had eaten nothing.  So I went, and the time passed so, that we stayed till two, so you may believe ’tis late enough.

20.  This day has gone all wrong, by sitting up so late last night.  Lord Treasurer is not yet well, and can’t go to Windsor.  I dined with Sir Matthew Dudley, and took occasion to hint to him that he would lose his employment, for which I am very sorry.  Lord Pembroke and his family are all come to town.  I was kept so long at a friend’s this evening that I cannot send this to-night.  When I knocked at my lodgings, a fellow asked me where lodged Dr. Swift?  I told him I was the person:  he gave me a letter he brought from the Secretary’s office, and I gave him a shilling:  when I came up, I saw Dingley’s hand:  faith, I was afraid, I do not know what.  At last it was a formal letter, from Dingley about her exchequer business.  Well, I’ll do it on Monday, and settle it with Tooke.  And now, boys, for your letter, I mean the first, N.21.  Let’s see; come out, little letter.  I never had the letter from the Bishop that Raymond mentions; but I have written to Ned Southwell, to desire the Duke of Ormond to speak to his reverence, that he may leave off his impertinence.  What a pox can they think I am doing for the Archbishop here?  You have a pretty notion of me in Ireland, to make me an agent for the Archbishop of Dublin.—­Why! do you think I value your people’s ingratitude about my part in serving them?  I remit them their first-fruits of ingratitude, as freely as I got the other remitted to them.  The Lord Treasurer defers writing his letter to them, or else they would be plaguily confounded by this time.  For he designs to give the merit of it wholly to the Queen and me, and to let them know it was done before the Duke of Ormond was Lord Lieutenant.  You visit, you dine abroad, you see friends; you pilgarlick;[14] you walk from Finglas, you a cat’s foot.  O Lord—­Lady Gore[15] hung her child by the waist; what is that waist?[16] I don’t understand that word; he must hang on till you explain or spell it.—­I don’t believe he was pretty, that’s a liiii.—­Pish! burn your First-Fruits; again at it.  Stella has made twenty false spellings in her writing; I’ll send them to you all back again on the other side of this letter, to mend them; I won’t miss one.  Why, I think there were seventeen bishops’ names to the letter Lord Oxford received.—­I will send you some pamphlets by Leigh; put me in mind of it on Monday, for I shall