I found you out; I did so.

I am staying before I can fold up this letter, till that ugly D is dry in the
last line but one. Do not you see it? O Lord, I am loth to leave you, faith-
-but it must be so, till the next time. Pox take that D; I will blot it, to
dry it.



LETTER 8.

LONDON, Oct. 31, 1710.

So, now I have sent my seventh to your fourth, young women; and now I will
tell you what I would not in my last, that this morning, sitting in my bed, I
had a fit of giddiness: the room turned round for about a minute, and then it
went off, leaving me sickish, but not very: and so I passed the day as I told
you; but I would not end a letter with telling you this, because it might vex
you: and I hope in God I shall have no more of it. I saw Dr. Cockburn[1] to-
day, and he promises to send me the pills that did me good last year; and
likewise has promised me an oil for my ear, that he has been making for that
ailment for somebody else.

Nov. 1. I wish MD a merry new year. You know this is the first day of it
with us.[2] I had no giddiness to-day; but I drank brandy, and have bought a
pint for two shillings. I sat up the night before my giddiness pretty late,
and writ very much; so I will impute it to that. But I never eat fruit, nor
drink ale; but drink better wine than you do, as I did to-day with Mr. Addison
at Lord Mountjoy's: then went at five to see Mr. Harley, who could not see me
for much company; but sent me his excuse, and desired I would dine with him on