u
by some friend: I have directed it for Mr. Curry, at his house; so you
have warning when it comes, as I hope it will soon. The handkerchiefs
will be put in some friend's pocket, not to pay custom. And so here ends
my sixth, sent when I had but three of MD's: now I am beforehand, and
will keep so; and God Almighty bless dearest MD, etc.

LETTER 7.

LONDON, Oct. 19, 1710.

Faith, I am undone! this paper is larger than the other, and yet I am
condemned to a sheet; but, since it is MD, I did not value though I were
condemned to a pair. I told you in my letter to-day where I had been,
and how the day passed; and so, etc.

20. To-day I went to Mr. Lewis, at the Secretary's office, to know when
I might see Mr. Harley; and by and by comes up Mr. Harley himself, and
appoints me to dine with him to-morrow. I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh,(1)
and went to wait on the two Lady Butlers;(2) but the porter answered
they were not at home: the meaning was, the youngest, Lady Mary, is
to be married to-morrow to Lord Ashburnham,(3) the best match now in
England, twelve thousand pounds a year, and abundance of money. Tell me
how my "Shower" is liked in Ireland: I never knew anything pass better
here. I spent the evening with Wortley Montagu(4) and Mr. Addison, over
a bottle of Irish wine. Do they know anything in Ireland of my greatness
among the Tories? Everybody reproaches me of it here; but I value them
not. Have you heard of the verses about the "Rod of Sid Hamet"? Say
nothing of them for your life. Hardly anybody suspects me for them; only
they think nobody but Prior or I could write them. But I doubt they
have not reached you. There is likewise a ballad full of puns on the
Westminster Election,(5) that cost me half an hour: it runs, though it
be good for nothing. But this is likewise a secret to all but MD. If you
have them not, I will bring them over.

21. I got MD's fourth to-day at the Coffee-house. God Almighty bless
poor, dear Stella, and her eyes and head! What shall we do to cure them?
poor, dear life! Your disorders are a pull-back for your good qualities.
Would to Heaven I were this minute shaving your poor, dear head, either
here or there! Pray do not write, nor read this letter, nor anything
else; and I will write plainer for Dingley to read from henceforward,
though my pen is apt to ramble when I think whom I am writing to. I will
not answer your letter until I tell you that I dined this day with Mr.
Harley, who