written to me on that subject, and desired I might read him the letter some other time. But after all, from what I have heard from other hands, I am afraid the archbishop is a little guilty. Here is one Brent Spencer, a brother of Mr. Proby's, who affirms it, and says he has leave to do so from Charles Deering, who heard the words; and Ingoldsby[1] abused the archbishop, &c. Well, but now for your saucy letter: I have no room to answer it: O yes, enough on t'other side. Are you no sicker? Stella jeers Presto for not coming over by Christmas; but indeed Stella does not jeer but reproach poor poor Presto. And how can I come away, and the first-fruits not finished? I am of opinion the duke of Ormond will do nothing in them before he goes, which will be in a fortnight they say: and then they must fall to me to be done in his absence. No, indeed, I have nothing to print: you know they have printed the miscellanies, already. Are they on your side yet? if you have my snuffbox, I'll have your strong box. Hi, does Stella take snuff again? or is it only because it is a fine box? not the Meddle, but the Medley, you fool. Yes, yes, a wretched thing, because it is against you tories: now I think it very fine, and the Examiner a wretched thing. Twist your mouth, sirrah. Guiscard, and what you will read in the narrative, I ordered to be written, and nothing else. The Spectator is written by Steele with Addison's help: 'tis often very pretty. Yesterday it was made of a noble hint I crave him long ago for his Tatlers, about an Indian supposed to write his travels into England. I repent he ever had it. I intended to have written a book on
- ↑ One of the lords justices.
