for M^r. Hall has this Day left his Crasy Castle to come and sojourn with me at Shandy Hall for a few days—for so they have long christend our retired Cottage—we are just arrived at it & whilst he is admiring the premisses—I have stole away to converse a few minutes with thee, and in thy own dressing room—for I make every thing thine & call it so, before hand, that thou art to be mistress of hereafter. This _Hereafter_, Eliza, is but a melancholly term—but the Certainty of its coming to us, brightens it up—pray do not forget my prophecy in the Dedication of the Almanack—I have the utmost faith in it myself—but by what impulse my mind was struck with 3 Years—heaven whom I believe it’s author, best knows—but I shall see y^r. face before—but that I leave to You—& to the Influence such a Being must have over all inferior ones—We are going to dine with the Arch Bishop[33] to morrow—& from thence to Harrogate for three days, whilst thou dear Soul art pent up in sultry Nastiness—without Variety or change of face or Conversation—Thou shalt have enough of both when I cater for thy happiness Eliza—& if an Affectionate husband & 400 p^{ds}. a year in a sweeter Vally than that of Jehosophat will do—less thou shalt never have—but I hope more—& were it millions ’tis the same—twould be laid at thy feet—Hall is come in in raptures with every thing—& so I shut up my Journal for to day & to morrow for I shall not be able to open it where I go—adieu my dear Girl— * * * * * 18—was yesterday all the day with our A. Bishop—this good Prelate who is one of our most refined Wits & the most of a gentleman of our order—oppresses me with his kindness—he shews in his treatment of me, what he told me upon taking my Leave—that he loves me, & has a high Value for me—his Chaplains tell me, he is perpetually talking of me—& has such an opinion of my head & heart that he begs to stand Godfather for my next Literary production—so has done me the hon^r. of putting his name in a List which I am most proud of because my Eliza’s name is in it. I have just a moment to scrawl this to thee, being at York—where I want to be employed in taking you a little house, where the prophet may be accommodated with a “_Chamber in the Wall apart with a stool & a Candlestick_”—where his Soul can be at rest from the distractions of the world, & lean only upon his kind hostesse. & repose all his Cares, & melt them _along with hers_ on her sympathetic bosom. * * * * *