12th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning drawing up my
narrative of my proceedings and concernments in the buying of prize-goods,
which I am to present to the Committee for Accounts; and being come to a
resolution to conceal nothing from them, I was at great ease how to draw
it up without any inventions or practise to put me to future pain or
thoughts how to carry on, and now I only discover what my profit was, and
at worst I suppose I can be made but to refund my profit and so let it go.
At noon home to dinner, where Mr. Jackson dined with me, and after dinner
I (calling at the Excise Office, and setting my wife and Deb. at her
tailor's) did with Mr. Jackson go to find my cozen Roger Pepys, which I
did in the Parliament House, where I met him and Sir Thomas Crew and Mr.
George Montagu, who are mighty busy how to save my Lord's name from being
in the Report for anything which the Committee is commanded to report to
the House of the miscarriages of the late war. I find they drive
furiously still in the business of tickets, which is nonsense in itself
and cannot come to any thing. Thence with cozen Roger to his lodgings,
and there sealed the writings with Jackson, about my sister's marriage:
and here my cozen Roger told me the pleasant passage of a fellow's
bringing a bag of letters to-day, into the lobby of the House, and left
them, and withdrew himself without observation. The bag being opened, the
letters were found all of one size, and directed with one hand: a letter
to most of the Members of the House. The House was acquainted with it,
and voted they should be brought in, and one opened by the Speaker;
wherein if he found any thing unfit to communicate, to propose a Committee
to be chosen for it. The Speaker opening one, found it only a case with a
libell in it, printed: a satire most sober and bitter as ever I read; and
every letter was the same. So the House fell a-scrambling for them like
boys: and my cozen Roger had one directed to him, which he lent me to
read. So away, and took up my wife, and setting Jackson down at Fetter
Lane end, I to the old Exchange to look Mr. Houblon, but, not finding him,