THE name of GENT is well known to the collectors of English topography, and of typographical curiosities, as that of a printer who sometimes employed his press upon productions of his own; and who, in his character of author, produced numerous volumes, which are far from being destitute of merit. To the collectors of portraits, he is known by a fine mezzotinto print, after a painting by NATHAN DRAKE.

Even the close inquirers into the history of the county in which he resided, and on which his topographical labours were directed, could collect little concerning his life, except what might be learned from his publications; when, lo! a manuscript appears in the hands of Mr. THORPE the bookseller, in Bedford street, Covent garden, in the handwriting of the author, and entitled by him, "Of the Life of THOMAS GENT, Printer." It was written in 1746, when he was in his fifty-third year. This manuscript was discovered by Mr. Thorpe, in a collection from Ireland, the country of which GENT was a native, and where he had relations, into whose hands the work may be supposed to have fallen on the death of its author.

Besides being a very minute account of a man about whom some curiosity may reasonably be supposed to exist, the narrative contains a few notices of other persons more the object of public interest than our author, and also of the manners and transactions of his time. Those who feel no curiosity about GENT, may peruse it as the short and simple annals of a life in which we perceive good conduct finding its appropriate reward; and at the same time, an instance of the inconstancy of the world, in the falling fortunes of one in whom these qualities were still to be found. Those who are familiar with his published writings, and have formed from them an idea of the peculiar constitution of his mind, will perceive. that this narrative is throughout quite characteristical.

Three of the large and closely written folio leaves are lost, the first, the third, and the ninth. The first leaf must, doubtless, have contained an account of his parents, who were residents of Dublin; of his education in that city; and of his being placed with a printer there, to learn the business. We find him, when the narrative opens upon us, forming, on a sudden, the resolution of abandoning his master, his family, and his country; and he sets sail for Liverpool without money, and without a rational prospect of gaining any.

HE worst was in leaving my dear parents, but that I hoped would in time be atoned for; in short, I told Arnold that I would accompany him: he promised to meet me on Aston's Quay, wherein he failed. However, as Captain Wharton was going to sail, I took some small provision, got a shilling of my dear mother, gave a farewell kiss to her and my loving father, (without any word or token of what I had in agitation,) and bought two or three penny loaves out of my stock, which, I think, was about seventeen pence, only that my habit was tolerable, having taken my best suit. And so, on the 9th of August, 1710, as we entered the mouth of the bay, a great storm ensued, which obliged the sailors to cast anchor.

I had crept into the hold, where I lay very sick, by which means I was secure from the searches of my indulgent father, one Mr. Charles Harris, a tidewaiter, and my master aforesaid. On the third day from my being on board, the wind and weather permitting, we set forward, and the day following came opposite to the shore, on the eminence of which is a place called Park Gate; here, knowing my poor stock would not half amount to the payment of my passage, I offered my waistcoat as a recompense to the master, who, I was previously told, would order me to be severely striped for presuming to enter the ship without money. But, indeed, contrary to what was thought, he let two or three others pass free: when I came to make my offering, "Pretty lad," said he, "and is it so poor with you? Why, if I should strip you of your raiment, you might happen to be starved to death, which I know not but might be left at my door; but, child, had my sailors told me you were hid in the ship, upon my word you should have been delivered to your friends when they searched for you. What will your tender parents say, when they come to hear that you are in a strange land, without support? for my own part, I grieve for your condition. Here, young man, take this sixpence with you, endeavour to get employment, and take to good ways; for I have children of my own and that makes me pity you the more, seeing you are but young, and as yet so helpless a creature, for want of friends to assist you, and advise you for the best." Such kind expressions coming, as I thought at first, from a rough sailor, drew flowing tears from the full sluices of mine eyes; and while I thanked him the more, with promise if ever I met him knowingly, and was of ability, I should more than recompense him for his timely generosity, it melted him also, that he could speak but little more than bidding God bless me, who was able chiefly to support me, as he had wonderfully many other faithful travelling adventurers. He ordered one of the sailors to help me into the boat, as being myself very weak, through the violent tossing of the waves; so then, when I landed, the world seemed to turn round, through the giddiness that possessed my poor brains, and really had almost deprived me of any thought. I had like to have fallen backwards into the water, but was kindly supported by some in the company, till a walk or two occasioned a due circulation, and restored me to my faculties.

And now, setting forwards towards Chester, in company with a jolly fat Englishwoman, and an anchorsmith, whom she seemed particularly fond of, also an Irishwoman, and her seeming husband, we arrived at that famous city in about three or four hours' time. I was agreeably pleased with the piazzas, under which it is pleasant to walk dry in rainy weather; the noble walls, from whence you have an agreeable prospect; the towers; spacious buildings; and the celebrated river Dee, where the famous king Edgar was rowed by eight tributary kings.

But then no printing press, as I could hear of, was set up in those parts; neither could my fellow-travellers find any encouragement in their way: thus, like distressed strangers, we were all obliged to push forward for London. At first, my companions called me Mr. Tommy, by way of eminence; but when they found the title did not agree with my empty pockets, they imposed some of their heavy burdens on my wearied shoulders. This was not very pleasing to my spirit: but their company was more detestable, when one of the men knocked down a goose that was swimming in a sort of lake near the road, and both them and their hussies obliged me to wade deep in the water before I could get it out. This gave me a terrible notion how unfortunate those unhappy people were who fall into bad company; in what a sad dilemma they are oftentimes engaged; and, without God's delivering providence, might be brought to suffer the very rigor of justice, for the vile enormities of other sinful wretches. But these, my now crooked friends, got no good by their hungry theft, for, getting it boiled at a place they thought convenient, it was almost as tough as parchment itself.

Well, we journeyed still further and further, till we lit of a company of soldiers, travelling on foot, in order to embark for Spain. They had a serjeant with them, and an officer, who was mounted. They attacked my fellow-travellers, the two men, to take on with them; this made me like company the worse: so, delivering my bundle, I endeavoured to make off from them all; but Serjeant Kite, and the thin-jawed officer, from his lean Rosinante, ordered one of their young fellows nimbly to overtake me, and persuade me back again, to sup with them that night; but the honest youth, who had been entrapped himself, seeing me very weary, and, after some discourse, pitying my condition, laid open to me a scene of their honesty, if I might give it so good a name. "The officer," said he, "will ride up to you, as I depart on one side; you may seem to agree with what he says, by bidding you live, as his men do, along with them; but rise up early next morning, and make the best of your way from us." What he spake was really truth, and I acted accordingly; however, the officer overtook me next day, towards evening: "I perceive, young man," said he, "you did not like us, by giving us the slip; but you had as well be with us as shun us, for at London you will be pressed, in spite of your teeth, and meet with far more uncourteous usage." "Perhaps, sir," said I, "it may be so; but I pray you, at present, permit me to be of another mind to believe what you say, because I think I was never designed to be a warrior, but rather one who, by profession, should rather exhibit their glorious actions to future ages." "You'll be forced to it," said he, "whether you will or no;" and so rode from me in a huff, which plainly proved what the young soldier had told me, whose warning I honourably kept within my breast, in perfect gratitude, lest he should in anywise suffer for his goodness to me.

When I reached the ancient town of St. Alban's, so called from the famous protomartyr of England, I took up my lodgings in the first street, at the sign of St. Catherine's Wheel. The good landlord observing me very lame and tired, asked me what I would have got for supper; but I honestly told him I had but twopence in the world, which I should pay him for my lodging, that I must fast, and drink nothing but water, till I got to London; but what was a greater trouble, there were soldiers on the road, who thought to ensnare me, and from whom I had travelled prodigiously hard, to escape their intended destruction. This open plainness touched so much the hearts of the good man and his wife, that they gave me something to eat, which I was unwilling to receive, and for some time--

[Here is, unfortunately, a chasm in the manuscript. When the narrative proceeds, we find him in the employ of Mr. Midwinter, and having recently made acquaintance with a Dublin schoolfellow, a son of Sir Richard Levintz. JH]

--When we walked out, I declared the naked truth in every circumstance. He told me his father, Sir Richard Levintz, who was a judge in Ireland, had sent him thither to be educated in St. Paul's school, where he had been for some time; but of late was ordered to travel into the eastern countries; that he was soon to go on board; and that he was provided with several suits of apparel for that purpose. He did not know, he said, as he was going up the Mediterranean, but he might see Jerusalem before he returned; that his ambition was to behold many parts of Asia, if he could; to visit Constantinople, Greece, and Rome, and every noted place. But how fortune would favor him in that respect, he could not tell "however, Tommy," said he, "while I stay in London, I will enjoy your company now and then, and tomorrow I will come and beg an holyday for you." Accordingly, next day, he came to our house, and besought one for me from Madam Midwinter: he was tall, exceedingly beautiful, and had a fine address. So much was she attracted with the youth, that she soon called me from work, and bid me dress myself to go along with him. Never was a friend more endearing; "Tommy," said he, "whilst we were lads at school, you often obliged me at marbles, at which, I remember, you was a great bulker; also with tops, flying kites, and other sports, for which you was the most excellent in St. Mary's parish. Now let us walk out to the fields, towards Islington, Newington, Pancridge, or any other towns, and once more talk of our juvenile actions." Accordingly we did so, and in many pleasant arbours he treated me with wine, cider, ale, and cakes, and indeed whatever I had a mind to. At night, returning, I parted with him at his lodging, near Christ's Hospital; but he had me abroad with him once or twice more, till he began to enter upon his travels; and though I often inquired of him, by my friends, to whom I repeated his goodness to me, I never had the good fortune to see him after.

But so honourable an acquaintance had this good effect, that Mrs. Midwinter, thinking me none of the very commonest sort of my country folks, she began to have a greater respect to me than usual, though (as her circumstances then were not so great as might be wished,) it abated nothing of my hard labour, working many times from five in the morning till twelve at night, and frequently without food from breakfast time till five or six in the evening, through our hurry with hawkers. My fellow servants would often give me great uneasiness through their authentic nonsense, and unreasonable contempt, which obliged me, now and then, to have some skirmishes for my quietude, in which, I have heartily thanked Providence that I was enabled, though with strong reluctancy, to bring them at last into good manners.

When I was about twenty years old, I think I had been seven years at the business, from my first apprenticeship in Ireland, when my master, Midwinter, exhibited a glorious spirit of generosity: he called me one night to sup with him; his daughter-in-law, Betty Walters, told me there was a fowl prepared for me. It was not long before that I was severely beaten for sending him a letter to Islington, complaining I was in a poor philosopher's condition, for want of a pair of breeches; and though, upon my writing Dr. Sacheverel's sermon after his suspension, for which I waited from morning till evening to hear him, he had given me what I wanted, and a crownpiece beside, because he took near £30 that week by it; yet still, as he had taken it as a great affront, I imagined resentment continued in his breast towards me. "No, indeed, Mr. Gent," said Betty, (and that was the first time she gave me the title of Mr.,) "my father has quite contrary apprehensions, for he respects you, and I am sure you will find it so." However, I could not help trembling, thinking myself undone if he proved now unkind to me; but entering the room, "Take a chair, Mr. Gent," both master and mistress kindly said. They cut me victuals, which, God knows, in reverence to them, I could hardly taste, and the cup shook in my hand as I pledged their healths, which my master pitying, smiling, said, "I believe, Mr. Gent, I know your thoughts; because I have treated you as a servant, perhaps now and then with correction, only to make you better, you may think I shall carry myself with ill-nature to you for the future. No, my lad, I scorn it; and so does your good mistress, too, whatever you may judge of us both; and, as I am sensible you have been full seven years at the business, you may, from this night, work with whom you please, under my protection; as yet, I believe, you are utterly unprovided, therefore, I desire you would neither want board nor lodging, such as you have had already, whilst I have a house to come to. So you see I do not prefer my interest to your good; and though you came an almost stranger to me, God forbid that I should send you as such abroad; at this time, as I am not so full of business but what our hands can do, you may make use of this opportunity by improving more with others: so that take a good heart, be diligent if you are employed, and patient if you are not; and never fear but every thing will answer for your good at last, as so far it has done already." And so they both drunk my health, and bid me be cheerful.

It cannot be imagined what great satisfaction these words of my master gave me. I desired both of them not to think I should now think hard of any usage I might have received by correction, often, I believed, through misrepresentation of others; but if not, I owned that youth must either be under discipline, or entirely lost; that I had rather cause to rejoice they had been my defenders, and now were become a greater blessing than even my natural parents; but, at present, I could do no more than return my most humble thanks, for whose prosperity I should pray as long as life continued to make me sensible of so incumbent a duty.

Upon their asking me what money I had, I told them, my poor stock amounted to no more than a tester; that indeed I had a shilling, but sixpence of it went to pay for a letter that my dear mother happily sent me, wherein, considering my condition, she had ordered me forty shillings and half a dozen shirts, to be received of Mr. Gurnell, merchant, in Throgmorton street. This was great comfort in so particular a time.

So the next day I went to wait on him, but he was neither at home, nor on the Exchange; I took a walk into Moorfields, and looking over the booksellers' stalls, I spied Ayre's Arithmetic, which buying, I parted with my last sixpence, thinking it would not be long before I had a fresh recruit. I went back again, but not finding my merchant, I was obliged to dine with Duke Humphrey: that I might not return empty, I had patience to fast till about four o'clock, and then it was, with great joy, that I found him in his habitation. The good man delivered me what was ordered, with a pious exhortation how to behave myself in the world; that I should carefully endeavour to shun the paths of wickedness, and strive to live such a pious life, as might not only be conducive to my health and reputation, but be the only means, after death, to obtain a state of felicity which is eternal in the heavens above. I found, by his modest habit, that he was a sort of Quaker, and returned him thanks for his care and advice, as he richly deserved. However my craving stomach was pained for want of temporal food, I so well digested this heavenly sustenance that my tender nature could not refrain from tears; and so, humbly taking leave, I went directly to seek a place of business, when luckily, I happened to engage with Mrs. Bradford, a quaker, and widow, in Fetter lane, who ordered me to come the next morning. With great spirit and elasticity I flew, as it were, homewards, to the great satisfaction of my kind master and mistress, who asked me, why I did not come to dinner? if I was not almost starved? or if I lit of the merchant, and dined with him? I told them the whole truth; and, going to work the next day, I continued so briskly, that by Saturday night I had earned near seventeen shillings: so that, having near three pounds in bank, and a new suit of clothes, of about three pounds price, which Mr. Midwinter had given me, exclusive of my other apparel, I thought that I might do pretty well in the world; in order to which, I furnished myself with a new composing iron, called a stick, because anciently that useful material was made of wood; a pair of scissors, to cut scaleboards; a sharp bodkin, to correct the letter; and a pretty sliding box, to contain them, and preserve all from rustiness; I bought also a galley, for the pages I was to compose, with other appurtenances that might be of service to me when occasion should require.

But as inconsiderate youth is, too soon, over fond of novelty, being invited to another place, under Mr. Mears, in Blackfriars, I very indiscreetly parted with my mistress, which entirely lost me the favour of that knowing gentlewoman. On my entrance amongst a number of men, besides paying what is called Benmoney, I found, soon after, I was, as it were, to be dubbed as great a cuz as the famous Don Quixote seemed to be when he thought himself a knight, and that the innkeeper was lord of the castle, in the yard of which he judged that the honour was conferred: though the insipid folly thereof, agreeably to their strange harangues in praise of the protecting charms of cuzship, which, like the power of Don Waltho Claterbank's infallible medicines, would heal all evils, whether curable or not, was not very agreeable to my hearing; yet, when the master himself insisted it must be done, I was obliged to submit to that immemorial custom, the origin of which they could not then explain to me. It commenced by walking round the chapel, (printing rooms being called such, because first begun to be practised in one at Westminster Abbey;) singing an alphabetical anthem, tuned literally to the vowels; striking me, kneeling, with a broadsword; and pouring ale upon my head: my titles were exhibited much to this effect, "Thomas Gent, baron of College Green, earl of Fingall, with power to the limits of Dublin bar, captain general of the Teagues, near the Lake of Allen, and lord high admiral over all the bogs in Ireland." To confirm which, and that I might not pay over again for the same ceremony, through forgetfulness, they allowed me godfathers, the first I ever had before, because the Presbyterian minister, at my christening, allowed none at his office; and these, my new pious fathers, were the unreverend Mr. Holt and Mr. Palmer. Nay, there were witnesses also, such as Mr. Fleming, Mr. Gibbins, and Mr. Cocket, stanch journeymen printers. But after all this work, I began to see the vanity of human grandeur; for, as I was not yet a freeman, I was discharged as a foreigner in about a fortnight or three weeks' time. This was like a javelin to my soul, especially when I thought how vainly I had left Mrs. Bradford, in whose house I had lived without envy or danger; I imagined myself in a worse state than the prodigal, and judged that I was highly guilty of incivility, if not ingratitude. But though I believed my capacity for her business might induce her to accept me once more, yet, fearing her just contempt, I durst not adventure again to offer my service; therefore I sought for a new place, and instead of one, got several; in short, I obtained smouting-work, that is, labouring here and there without settlement, which affording a tolerable subsistence, made me endeavour to prove an excellent smouter, a more profitable title than that of a cuz, I assure you. And now I thought I had as little occasion to value Mears as he had set by me in discharging me as he did; I was so full of resentment, that when I met the proud fellow, (as I could call him no other, by his usage,) that I did not shew the least respect, but scorn, and would never work for him after.

Some months past, when Mr. Midwinter had a letter from Mr. White, at York, that they wanted a young man at the business; and my answer being thought too pert or unsatisfactory to the proposal made me, I was rejected for a season; but one Isaac, a hawker, happening to travel in the country, went to that city, and being asked questions, if he knew Mr. Midwinter; or me, gave such a character of me, as turned the scales in my favor. Another letter came from Mrs. White, that I might, if I thought fit, have allowed me eighteen pounds a year, besides board, washing, and lodging. Mr. Midwinter consented I should go, since London was to me uncertain, and would be, till the time should come when I might have the same freedom as others; and indeed, though unwilling to leave so magnificent a city, I thought my consent became necessary. A guinea was allowed to bear my charges, twenty shillings of which I offered to Crofts, the carrier, a very surly young fellow as ever I conversed with, but he would have five or six shillings more; finding him so stiff with me, I was resolved to venture on foot. He set out with his horses on Monday, which I employed in taking leave of my friends, and particularly, that evening, of Mr. and Mrs. Midwinter.

The next morning, being Tuesday, the 20th of April, 1714, I set forward, and had not, I think, walked three miles, when a gentleman's servant, with a horse ready saddled, and himself riding on another, overtook me, and, for a shilling, with a glass or so on the road, allowed me to ride with him in my road as far as Caxton, which was the period of his journey. On Wednesday, with difficulty, I reached Stamford; on Thursday, got to Newark, famous for the ancient castle near Trent, built by Alexander, bishop of Lincoln; Friday, having lost my road, I got no further than Bawtry; on Saturday, reached Sherburn; on Sunday, was much delighted with the stream of Wharf, near Tadcaster, and the same day arrived at York, about twelve o'clock. The first house I entered to inquire for my new master was in a printer's, at Petergate, the very dwelling that is now my own, by purchase; but not finding Mr. White therein, a child brought me to his door, which was opened by the head maiden, that is now my dear spouse. She ushered me into the chamber, where Mrs. White lay something ill in bed; but the old gentleman was at his dinner, by the fireside, sitting in a noble armchair, with a good large pie before him, and made me partake heartily with him. [Mr White had printed the Prince of Orange's Declaration when it had been refused by all the printers in London, and was made king's printer for York and five counties. See Literary Anecdotes, &c. by John Nichols, vol. iii. p.688. JH] I had a guinea in my shoe lining, which I pulled out to ease my foot, at which the old gentleman smiled, and pleasantly said, it was more than he ever had seen a journeyman save before; I could not but smile too, because that my trunk, with my clothes, and eight guineas, was sent, about a month before, to Ireland, where I was resolved to go, and see my friends, had his place not offered to me as it did.

I lived as happy as I could wish in this family, and as I earned money, I bought me clothes, to serve me till I either went to visit my parents, where my trunk was carried to, or that I could get it sent me over sea; for Mr. White had plenty of business to employ several persons, there being few printers in England, except London, at that time; none then, I am sure, at Chester, Liverpool, Whitehaven, Preston, Manchester, Kendal, and Leeds, as, for the most part, now abound.

The death of Queen Anne, at Kensington, on the 29th of July, occasioned the proclamation of King George I., on the 3rd of August following, at York; it was on the steps of the magnificent cathedral that I perceived the comely tall presence of that most illustrious prelate, Sir William Dawes, the archbishop, in company with the lord mayor and chief citizens, when the ceremony was performed. On the 9th of November, I purchased a watch of Mr. Etherington, a Quaker, in High Ouse Gate, which, with the chain, cost me six guineas. On the 13th of December, Mr. Andrew Hind and Archibald Ashburn, (the former a broken master printer, the other a journeyman,) came from their journey from Ireland to York; they received assistance from some of the Scots printers, and me in particular, though the latter proved so proudly ungrateful as not to regard me when I saw him afterwards at London. The year following [in April 1715 TG] came another of the fraternity from thence, and though I had obliged the man in what lay in my power, whose name was William Sudworth, yet the wretch discovered me to the full in such a vile manner, that I thought him such a drunken mad enemy, more worthy to be prayed for than resented, because from secret, while I heard him, I found he knew not what he did, or, at least, had no reason from me for such inhuman treatment. But my mistress, who knew how to catch at cheap advantages, let me know that I was little better, and in fact, no other than an apprentice lad; which, considering I had already served seven years, I must needs confess, cut me to the very soul. And in this melancholy humour being given to versifying, when I had given over business in the evenings, I attempted to invoke the muses, whilst I wrote some lines of what, so young, I had undergone in this mortal life.

Having thus vented the diversity of my flowing passions, I made myself as easy as possible with Mr. White, till the year expired that I was hired for; though offered to be continued, I would not agree to stay another year, till I had seen my friends in Ireland. Yet what made my departure somewhat uneasy, I scarce then well knew how, was through respect of Mrs. Alice Guy, (the young woman who I said first opened the door to me,) upper maiden to Mrs. White, who, I was persuaded to believe, had the like mutual kindness for me: she was the daughter of Mr. Richard Guy, schoolmaster, at Ingleton, near Lancashire; had very good natural parts, quick understanding, was of a fine complexion, and very amiable in her features. Indeed, I was not very forward in love, or desire of matrimony, till I knew the world better, and, consequently, more able to provide such a handsome maintenance as, I confess, I had ambition enough to desire; but yet my heart could not absolutely slight a lovely young creature, as to pretend I had no esteem for her charms, which had captivated others, and particularly my master's grandson, Mr. Charles Bourne, who was more deserving than any. However, I told her, (because my irresolution should not anticipate her advancement,) that I should respect her as one of the dearest of friends; and receiving a little dog from her, as a companion on the road, I had the honour to be accompanied, as far as Bramham Moor, by my rival, on Saturday, the 15th of May; being attended also with my late companions, Mr. John Mickle, Mr. Penman, Mr. John Harvey, and others. In Yorkshire I travelled through Leeds, Brighurst, Ealand, and over Blackstone Hedge; in Lancashire, through Ribondale, Rochdale, Bury, Bolton, Ashton, Prescot, and Liverpool. As I could not readily meet with a ship bound for Ireland, I thought to have worked with Mr. Terry, the printer of this latter town, but, the man seeming to have no more business than he thought he could manage, and not in the least, as I thought, courteous to me, a stranger, I made no hesitation, but directly crossed the river, in the ferry boat, to Estham, and so travelled to Park Gate; the Betty galley, with colours displayed, commanded by Captain Briscoe, was ready to sail with the first fair wind: I called to mind how much I was indebted to Providence in the state I was in, compared to that when I first beheld that place. The inns and public houses being full, I lodged at Nesson, a mile from the shore: at first I did not like the house, on account of the ordinary travellers I 'spied there, which the landlady perceiving, " I see," said she, "you are not a common traveller, young man, by your habit and linen, and therefore you shall have a clean bed to yourself:" and indeed it was so, in a little snug room, where, next morning, I was wonderfully pleased with the reflection that the sun, rising, made on the counterpane, being complete patchwork, like Joseph's coat, and, for aught I know, made up with as great a variety of colours. As I had formed a resolution to hire a fisherboat to carry me over the estuary, into Wales, my good-natured landlady agreeably called me to arise, with news that the captain was immediately preparing to sail, and that his streamers and ensigns gave indications that now the wind was fair for the voyage: quickly I dressed myself, took some refreshment, returned her thanks, with generous payment, refreshed my little dog, and so set forward to the vessel, wherein I joyfully entered with him; the flowing tide coming to its fulness, and turning upon its ebb, the anchors were quickly weighed up from the sand. The waves were very boisterous along the Welsh coast, according to the violence of the wind: we got into a creek near Holyhead that night, which is the most extreme point of Wales that lies opposite to Dublin; and here our captain, being hailed, went ashore, and brought along with him the Rev. Mr. Dubourdieu, a clergyman, who belonged to the Episcopal French church in the cathedral dedicated to St. Patrick, in Dublin. He was a tall, swarthy, venerable, and pious gentleman; but the sailors terribly swore that they thought that they should have no good, for they would as lieve see the devil as a parson, to stop them in this manner in the middle of their voyage: and indeed, as it fell out, they seemed to be frightful prognosticators indeed, for, a little after, awful phenomena darkened the elements, succeeded by such a terrible storm that confounded all the passengers, and made the sailors pray, curse, and labour without intermission. For some days we were tossed about in this dangerous manner, that (as I heard afterwards,) many in Ireland had concluded our gallant ship and all her crew were utterly lost; for we were driven considerably towards the north, and not far from Scotland, but from thence made hard shift to shelter in the harbour of Douglas, in the Isle of Man, about a quarter of a mile from the town. That day the quality thought fit to go on shore and refresh themselves; whilst we that remained espied a funeral procession solemnly walking to an adjacent village, where the corpse was interred. Towards night, as the boat was returning with the captain and the rest, the pilot told the great danger they were in by the high winds, and was afraid he could not attain the ship. "Row on," says the master, being drunk; but the man still representing the case, he struck at him for his care. "Nay then," said the pilot, "I am as little afraid to die as you; you may repent striking me before a few moments pass." Upon which he pulled up as commanded, but of a sudden the boat was almost over turned, and the company decently washed more than they expected. "Turn, my lads, to the shore," said the captain: " Pilot, I will make you amends, and am heartily sorry for what I have done." So they lodged at Douglas, with a resolution to stay for better weather; and, the next day, the boat was sent for those who were willing to come ashore, with a relation of what happened: I gladly embraced the opportunity, as being very sick with the tossing of the vessel. We continued here about eleven days: at first provisions were very reason able, but more ships being driven to the harbour occasioned a scantiness while they continued. Some were much put to it for beds; but it fortunately happened that I met with an ingenious Irishman, Mr. Thomas Kendall, who was a lastmaker, and employed in the family of the Right Reverend Father-in-God Dr. Wilson, Bishop of Sodor, in that island; and besides was very acute in making viols: and letting him know that I was going to my dear parents, he was so good as to allow me to take share of his bed, which was large enough for both of us. For my board he recommended me to the family of Mr. John Corris, who dressed me any thing I wanted at a very easy expense, so that I could not expect to find better usage in any strange part of the universe. I might have had at first a good pullet for four pence, and a quart of strong brandy for an English shilling, which went there for fourteen pence.

I often used pensively to walk along the shore, the sands being very smooth, except the outward margent, where lay pretty stones and shells. The passage towards the north is terminated by a high rock, that falls gradually into the sea, and, I believe, lies for a great way beneath the surface of the water. One day I 'spied a small passage, by which I ascended, to have a better view of the country. There seemed, by the gradations (only fit for one person at a time), as if the steps had been hewn out by the labour of some ancient hermit; for on the apex there was a seat too, that gave me a vast prospect of the ocean, and the place seemed to me as romantic as Calypso's island, where she would have enervated the vigour of divine Telemachus, had he not been defended by Minerva, under the shadow of Mentor. Here it was that my melancholy thoughts inspired me with a sort of poetical genius to contemplate on the unsettled affairs of this transitory life.

Upon Sunday following I went to hear divine service in the church of the village, where the corpse had been carried, as I mentioned before: and there I heard the Reverend Mr. Lancaster, an English gentleman, preach a funeral oration on the much lamented death of that gentlewoman, Mrs. Anne Stacey, who was spouse to one of the twelve senators there that rule in the nature of a parliament. I think, as well as I could hear or remember, the minister insisted that none of his auditors should too absolutely judge, that all suicides were in a state of damnation, for that many good and virtuous people had been overcome through a strange melancholy and other wild disorders, not readily to be accounted for: that as to the deceased, they knew it was the effect of a high fever that occasioned her to call for a knife to pare an apple, which was as foolishly given her, and excessive pain that incited her to rip open her bowels, which issued forth with her life; that her former innocence and virtue, with her many charities to the poor and distressed, would no doubt be put into the balance with her last unhappiness, and, through the mercy of God, outweigh that crime and other enormities, which few (heaven knows,) but what are subject to. And, therefore, instead of uncharitable reflections, it rather should make us fly to the never failing refuge of powerful prayer, to be delivered from the horrid temptations of the devil, who sought all opportunities, especially in adversity and sickness, to ruin our precious and immortal souls, whom he would not have protected by holy angels, that, however, often snatch them from the dragon's power, and convey them to eternal rest beyond all sin and danger.

Another remarkable thing was at the visitation of the clergy. The good Bishop, I think, sat as judge, when a young fellow was cited for seducing a young damsel, to whom he had promised marriage: his lordship most piously laid before him the heinousness of his crime; that even the restitution he should be obliged to make was not a sufficient retaliation, or expiation of his guilt, without a thorough repentance for what he had committed against God; but if a just sense and detestation of his faults plainly appeared by his future behaviour in being a good husband and truly reformed Christian, why then he could give him assurance that he should recover the favor of Heaven and his fellow creatures, to the salvation of his soul and body. The trembling youth, melting into tears, (which set several of the spectators weeping also,) made not the least hesitation to marry his deluded creature, whose fair cheeks were also pitifully bedewed, as a token of her affection; and I make not the least question but that the holy prelate took speedy care that the solemn rites of the church should be soon performed between them.

I had a very willing mind to have seen Peel, Ramsey, and Castle Towns only that I dreaded to lose my passage; and as it was, I had like to have lost it, from going on board that ship on this occasion. As I sat one rainy evening at a publichouse, an exciseman was also at the fireside near me: when I was innocently praising God for his preservation of our ship's company, he deridingly mocked and hinted as if Almighty God had no hand in human concerns that way, and our escape might only be imputed to the mere effects of chance; for what were we better than, probably, many good people that the same seas had swallowed up? had we greater reason to expect greater favors? and if not, was it not (though we might shew our gratitude by sundry highest indications,) an imputation upon the divine mercy and benignity that they were not saved as well as we? "No, no," said he, "think not that your preservation was any concern of his, whose sphere only obtains that happiness which we fondly imagine, through excess of fear or devotion, doth also descend to us."

" Sir," said I, " why God suffers some to die sooner, or by more uncommon deaths, than others, I think becomes not any mortal too curiously to inquire. He may be willing at one time to take us from a more evil day, I mean from committing more evil, whereby our sad destruction might become inevitable. Perhaps, too, it might be, by immediate death, to bring them to speedy punishment for crying iniquities: and, for ought we know, through unbounded love, to call them to his happiness, as a quick reward for having done their duty to him in the best manner they were able. His pleasure in these cases is to be submitted to, and well thought of; but your argument is far from being so, which robs poor and afflicted travellers of their greatest comfort on earth, by making them of all men most miserable; that is, by denying the hope of God and Christ, with the assistance of the Blessed Spirit, in their greatest distresses, when they know not how soon their precious souls may be demanded of them. What can be more wicked than to hear you deny this? What more piercing to me under such circumstances, when I know my chiefest consolation is in the Lord; when I know there is nothing in the shadow of death can revive our sorrowful spirits more than the glorious thoughts of everlasting life; and nothing more strong to support us here than the love of Heaven, whose watchful eye is continually over the faithful, who seek divine truth and hold fast by the promises revealed to us."

Though I was but young, and not much learned, polemically to engage with a man of his age and capacity, with a sort of mathematical genius, yet I argued as well as I could from the Holy Scriptures, wherein so many miracles abound, to prove not only his Divine existence, but those admirable attributes intermingled with love and compassion towards those of the large household of faith who place their confidence in him. That all our properties of goodness, aptitude, agreement, beauty, virtue, and reason centred in Him who gave us being, and from whom we derive all celestial improvements that will reinstate the soul in greater glory. And I reiterated that his care and love became manifested chiefly in giving his own son to die for our salvation, and sending his Holy Spirit to guide and comfort us in all the contingences of this mortal life, as well as to free us from sin and misery. Not to mention, from Eusebius, Justin, and others, those indubitable miracles that were performed in several ages of the church, especially in regard to saints, martyrs, and confessors, who owned Christ's divinity and assistance in their very last moments, and expired with joy in the midst of the most cruel torments.

Upon this he seemed to laugh heartily at me, and called me a poor pious philosopher; but I gave him such language, in the spirit of meekness, as I thought the case required, considering a text I had read "Not to provoke a heathen lest he sin," and such that I had no occasion to repent of. The company round us seemed mightily pleased with what I said, called him an atheistical, foolish, unmannerly fellow, and told him that he had now met with his match. Upon this he flung away in a huff, and then I told them, I was far from public disputation, if he had not occasioned by words which I thought were very impious, especially to a stranger, but was sorry lest I had trespassed too much to hinder their discourse on other matters.

But they were very well pleased at his absence, willingly treated me, and told me he was continually affronting innocent persons. They added, they would speak of me to the Bishop's Gentleman, who was then in Douglas, and that he would take me to Castle Town, where I should want no assistance, till some ship or other was ready to sail for Ireland. Besides, that his lordship would be respectful to one of my profession, as he was a friend to the press, and greatly contributed to the printing of the Common Prayer in English and Manx, for the benefit of the people of the island. With this pretty talk of theirs, and the benefit of the sparkling liquor in clear glasses, we were all exhilarated to an high degree, and sat rather too long, as I felt by an aching head the next morning.

The sailors not knowing where to find me, had hoisted anchor, and when I arose about eight o'clock, the ship was vanished from my sight, behind a rock that screened me from its view; my concern was very great, till coming to the brink of the water, I found two other passengers, who had been left as well as I, agreeing with a boatman to follow the ship, with whom I gladly included myself into their bargain; but just as I was going to step in, my little dog, I suppose, not well pleased to venture again on the ocean, looked strangely affrighted, and began to run away: grieved to leave him, for the sake of her who gave him to me, I ran after him, till a rock that jutted into the sea stopt him, the boatman crying most of the time, "we'll go without you, if you don't come quickly!" but when I got him, I threw him over my shoulders, as one would do a sheep, and so run, panting, to them, whom I found had too tender hearts to leave me behind them. When I came aboard, I was accosted by the minister, the gentlewomen, and one Mr. Harvey, a student designed for Trinity College, with "Where have you been, young man? what was you afraid of, that you could not tell us where you lodged? all of us have been in sad concern about you; however, we are glad you have overtook us in so good a time." I heartily thanked them for their well wishes, and so we got into Dublin Harbour that very day, and, by the boatmen from Ring's End, were carried to shore. Here, and at Lazar's hill, we were welcomed by many people, who had before been in terrible consternation, fearing the long expected ship was entirely lost, and now their hearts were filled with transporting joy.

When I came to my father's house, as our dutiful custom is there, I fell on my knees to ask his blessing. The good old man took me up, with tears in his eyes, kissed me, saying "Tommy, I scarcely knew thee." My mother being at my sister Standish's, near the Strand, I went thither and found her in the parlour; and she as little knew me, till falling in the same posture, I discovered her wandering son. The children, my nephews and nieces, ran out of the pleasant garden to behold their uncle; and, in short, I was as much made of as my heart could desire. But the most fond of me was my dear niece, Anne Standish, a perfect beauty. Often did we walk till late hours in the garden; she could tell me almost every passage in Cassandra, a celebrated romance that I had bought for her at London. She was beloved by a gentleman of the same college where her brother, Mr. John Standish, was educated, and her countenance was so amiable, as if the rose and lily met together, that I think the young gentlewoman might have charmed the greatest personage on earth; but above all, which graced her modest behaviour, she was a most pious young creature, and exceedingly charitable to the poor.

After this, it was not long before I engaged myself as journeyman with Mr. Thomas Hume, in Copper alley; one whose mother was well acquainted with mine, and had her son brought up very prettily in the Blue Coat Hospital, much like that of the famous St. Bartholomew, in London. Being put out to Mr. Francis Dickson, who kept a printing office, he became enabled at length to set up for himself, and printed many good books. But here I met with a sad persecution from my old master, Powell, [In Dunton's Farewell to Dublin, this first master of Gent is thus described: "His person is handsome, I do not know whether he knows it or no, and his mind has as many charms. he is the very life and spirit where he comes, and it is impossible to be sad if he sets upon it; he is a man of a great deal of wit and sense, and, I hope, of as much honesty; in the mean time, he is neither scurrilous nor profane, but a good man and a good printer, as well as a good companion." JH] who employed officers to seize me for leaving my apprenticeship with him. This was a cutting stroke, though I own it might be expected, and with extreme sorrow pierced me even, I may say, to the very marrow of my soul. In this poor condition I became the ludicrous sport of common Irish journeymen, and particularly of the scamperers from London, which usage I afterwards remembered in an Hudibrastic poem, of which I shall take notice in its proper place. In this melancholy situation, being forced to keep out of harms way, I received a comfortable letter from Mrs. Midwinter, in London, (who knew nothing of my trouble,) that if I pleased to return to her spouse, I should never want a home while she lived: meanwhile my dear father, my brother-in-law Mr. James Standish, and another gentleman visited Mr. Powell, and offered a certain sum for my releasement; but this obsequiousness made him insist the more on higher matters, so that, upon due consideration, finding there was no other, and indeed no better remedy, that the best of men had their troubles, nay, that King George himself just then, had an unnatural rebellion raised in his kingdom, which, on my coming thither, I had not as much as heard of, that no inclemencies or dangers could be worse to me than Powell's tyranny, joined, for ought I could tell, with cruel revenge, and to frighten others through my example, and that I had a good kingdom to return to at pleasure; I say when I considered all this with my friends, a resolution was formed and agreed to, that I should privately leave my native country once more, and wisdom taught me to keep all a secret within my own breast till times proved better with me. About that time I received a letter from my dearest, at York, that I expected thither; and thither, too, purely again to enjoy her company, was I resolved to direct my course. I took leave of all friends, on the 8th of July, who seemed much concerned at our parting: but my unlucky whelp, that a little before, while taking a glass with Mr. Hume, had torn my new hat in pieces, seemed nowise affected at my taking boat, so I let the rascal stay with my dear parents, who were fond of him for my sake, as he was of them for his own; nor was he less pleasant, by his tricks, to the neighbourhood, who called him Yorkshire, from the county I had brought him. Coming on the sea, we were becalmed, or if a breeze sprung out, it was rather contrary to our desires; so that it was the 12th instant when I arrived at Park Gate, where I had cause to thank God I was escaped once more from a man I was now sure had proved an inflexible enemy indeed. On the 13th, I hired a horse to Eastham, and took boat for Liverpool: it was of a market day, so that the vessel was mostly filled with a parcel of lovely damsels, who had baskets of provisions to sell, as any person, I believe, might see in the whole universal world; and the same encomium might be given those of Lancashire. After landing, who should I observe but my late friend Mr. Kendall, who had been so kind to me, in the Isle of Man. With joyful surprise I took him by the hand, led him to a publichouse, treated him, and gave him a thousand thanks for his humane and Christian carriage towards me in distress.

[Here is another chasm, and when the narrative proceeds, he is on his way to London, having, as it appears, spent some time in York; the years are 1715 and 1716. JH]

But the next morning, getting about a mile from that town, a fellow steps from out of a hedge, as if by his staring and uncombed hair, ugly gait, and other insignia of a villain, he had made that his nocturnal habitation; upon my asking whither he was going, he said, "too and fro in the earth, for every place was alike to him." Being a stiff strong man, I neither liked him or his style, when, luckily, a honest countryman, on horseback, passing by, I went to him, told him I did not like the company I had met with, and desired him to bear me away behind him, and I would satisfy him for his trouble; accordingly, I lost my ill-looked chap, met the opportunity of a coach the last day's journey, and got safe to London, about three o'clock in the afternoon.

Whilst working there with my master Midwinter, I met with very barbarous usage from one Henry Lingard, a fellow apprentice, son to a chairman that plied at the court end of the town. He used to say, "did I think to get my freedom? no, he should take care to prevent me;" and such like stuff used to be the daily entertainment I met with from him. I believe he was set on by a journeyman, who, without any just reason, was as vexed because I was in a way to gain it, in spite of their malice; but one day, this Lingard, hindering me from work, swore he would fight me, whether I would or no: I gave him all the good words I could, to be quiet, but in vain; grieved to the heart, I offered him money, to let me live easy the time I had to stay; that to make a noise in the house would be very ridiculous, and displeasing to our superiors: all signified nothing; thrash me, he would. "Well, Spark," said I, "well can I perceive those spiteful arrows, levelled to make me miserable, do not all come out of your quiver; I wish they that put you on, like a dog, to worry me, would appear as open as you do." "Dog!" said he, in disdain; with that he lets drive the first stroke, which obliged me to return his salutation. I beat him heartily in the case room, and then we tumbled, like fighting cats, down stairs, amongst the presses. The lyetrough standing at the bottom, he happened to fall with his head therein, when that unholy liquid smeared him to some purpose: we descended down another pair of grades, where the paperbank tumbled after us for company into the back kitchen; and, notwithstanding his great strength, it was my happy fortune, through God's good providence, to give him that just, though severe, correction, that he ran howling like a dog indeed that had lost his ears, to complain of me to his indulgent parents, who, far more reasonable, upon my telling them, impartially, the whole state of the case, made matters up between us, through desire of our good master and mistress, and, afterwards, never young persons proved better friends than he and I together.

About the month of September, I received a letter from my dear, which acquainted me that the poor condemned persons had felt the utmost severity of the law, for the mean value of three halfpence, which neither of them had received, I confess I was much astonished when I considered how very common it is with men, sportingly to ask a pint of ale, or the value thereof, on the road, without the least intention of robbery; for if so, it were highly criminal if they took but a farthing or nothing, since the making people stand to deliver is putting them in bodily fear, and punishable as if they had taken ever so great a sum. But I, like others, could not be satisfied with the credibility of the evidence; nor would I, in this case, judge ill of the printer, though, through his means, while on my master's business, I had been shamefully abused by one Banks, a coppernosed rustic, who kept the cock pit; and I wish I may not judge wrong, if I think that the temptation of the reward for taking highwaymen, proved the grand inducement to swear away the poor creatures' lives. But at that time, as the determinations of law were above my tender capacity, I could say nothing more but heartily wish the deplorable sufferers a happy immortality, hoping, at the final tribunal, they would meet with an infinitely more favorable Judge: and what seemed to me to render them more worthy of Divine mercy, and tender pity of their fellow creatures, was the speech which Barron wrote with his own hand, and desired might be made public in print; and both he and Bourne confirmed the same at Tyburn, near York, on Saturday, the 8th of September, just before they were obliged to change this mortal life for a better. People were very much affected at their behaviour, both in regard to their vindication and sufferings; and though the sword of justice had lawfully smitten them according to the evidence, in which neither judge nor jury were to be blamed, yet charity made them to believe that the poor sufferers were really guiltless of designing to commit any robbery, though they had acted a very foolish, and, as it happened, a fatal indiscretion. But Barron spoke and wrote very plainly, that his life was taken away unlawfully and unjustly, that, for his part, he was at a distance from those men who were concerned in so wretched a case, by the breaking of his shoebuckle, which prevented his coming near them while it was in agitation; that is, he was not so close up to them as to be concerned, much less charged with what was acted, but yet he was not so far off neither, but that he heard Townshend beg a little money to get a drink, for truly that he had none to purchase a sup; whereupon Mr. King said that he had no more than three halfpence, which he readily gave him. But Mr. Jackson seemed a hero in defence of what he had, and told him, if he expected any, he must fight for it first. I am of opinion, that had Mr. Jackson been assaulted by a common footpad with a pistol, his courage would soon have been cooled from making resistance, and I wish his mind did not then give him, that these poor fellows without weapons, could not be such as he, for a cursed reward, was willing to prove them; and, on the other hand, no doubt but Townshend was surprised at such a proposition, which made him reply that he was nowise inclined for fighting, which argues he had no design of committing a robbery; and I think so too, for few stanch rogues are not only for taking what they can, but for blows, and often worse, in order to make their escape, and prevent discovery. Barron, employed in fastening his shoe, was not come up until all was over, and separated; and, therefore, solemnly declared that none of his companions, he believed, and for himself he was sure of, had the least thoughts of committing a robbery: for the reason of their going out of town, was to seek a deserter, who had been drinking with them at the Cart and Wheel, in Feeze gate, and for whose loss the serjeant had threatened he would make them pay; whereupon, rightly conceiving the fellow was gone to his father's, at Northallerton, they took the road to Clifton, wherein this unhappy action of three halfpence happened. But a thought striking into their heads that they would return to York, and declare to the officers their intent, by the information they had where he was gone, which it proved by being seen there next day, they stopped from their intended journey, to put in practice their resolution: but it was not long before they met with Bing and Jackson, accompanied by assistants, to secure them as offenders! surprised and grieved, they scorned to be taken as such, and so went to their quarters. There it was that Barron and Bourne were secured, which, when Townshend heard of , who only had the three halfpence, he secured himself by making off, and never was heard of after, whilst they were strictly examined, hard sworn against, and led to prison, though entirely innocent. This was the effect of Barron's apology; but at his death, his charity went further; he freely forgave them, however, what they had done, though he never committed that or any other crime that merited heavy punishment from mankind, but, indeed, that he had been guilty of too immoderate love towards women of pleasure, drinking, and keeping company; "things," he said, "that were but too common in the world, and the ready ways to misfortune."

As to Bourne, he challenged any person to say he ever did the least wrong, and accused Jackson of down right perjury, insisting that he never demanded any money of them, or offered the least abuse. Thus these two poor creatures died for being unhappily in the company of a foolish fellow, who yet was so wise as to shun theirs when under impending danger, when he was the most highly concerned.

Such a speech, howsoever just it might have been, (which none but heaven and the criminals satisfactorily knew,) had I then worked with Mrs. White, I should have endeavoured to have dissuaded her from the printing thereof; at least, I would have omitted those names, and dressed it in such language as might have as fully displayed their innocence, without falling under those losses which designing persons, who valued not the lives of the most harmless people, would rejoice should also be made their prey. But she, not having the least love for the reputation of Jackson, who served an apprenticeship with her husband, (nor was there any the like respect lost on his side,) she was resolved to print the same, as it seemed to tend to his disinterest, not considering of those disadvantages she became thereby obliged to sustain.

Her son-in-law, from Newcastle, unsatisfied with the share his father had left him, was at York at that time, and, as I heard, incited her to the completion of it, either, I presume, not carefully reflecting on the danger, or, perhaps, not caring how much his kind stepmother, (if I may so use the epithet for she was more kind, I believe, than he deserved,) might be oppressed, so that he might wickedly profit by the ruin of her and her grandson, whose name was joined with hers in the said printed paper, though, as I wrote before, she acted as entire mistress, by agreement. This publication of the late prisoner's last sayings so wounded the reputation of Mr. King amongst the people in general, that he sent his wife to complain of the same to Mrs. White, and to persuade her to ask pardon as publicly in print, by way of recantation. But madam was rather too obstinate, and indeed, I think much to blame, (since so small a matter would have prevented what followed,) in refusing to yield to be in any error, or give the least satisfaction by owning that she had been imposed upon, matter growing to a ferment, there wanted no advice to her enemies, who had little to lose, and so much to expect; by suing her to take the advantage of the law, which quite gave its sentiment against her, Mr. Bourne being cleared by the judge, as a minor under tuition, by which judgment she lost near fourscore pounds.

This success to her adversaries emboldened them to attack Mr. Morphew, the publisher at London, in whose monthly pamphlet the same speech, or words like it, had been inserted. But he was so wise as to prevent their sinister design, by applying himself to the judge, who, no doubt, gave him that advice which he took by submitting to a recantation; by which means he pleased Mr. Serjeant, and saved his purse from their mercy. But the unfortunate Mrs. White's troubles were not ended; for now, Jackson began to send his puffs abroad, how he would bring her once more under the lash, for wounding the reputation of so honest a man! And, 'tis not to be doubted but, pushed on by his ancient hatred, the action had certainly been brought against her, a second time, for the same paper, if his hands had not been palmed with twenty guineas, paid him by Mr. Martin Lantro, barrister at law, nephew to Mr. White, who was uneasy to leave his aunt, being her heir, till she was freed from this vexation also, and then he returned to Lyon's inn, at London, where he received his learned education. He was a worthy gentleman, who, at my writing to him of the poverty that the sister of Mrs. White was fallen into, and but indifferently used by a snarling husband, he allowed this poor aunt of his six guineas a year, which I paid to her by his order, till death released her from all care and necessity.

As to King and Jackson, they gloried awhile with the money they got as a reward for taking up highwaymen, and with what was obtained through Mrs. White's misfortunes. But they were often twitted with it not withstanding their threatenings to any that should tell them of it. One of them did not long survive, but the other did, till after the time that Bower was condemned for the robbery of Mr. Harris, of Giggleswick; at the pardon of whom, and his being defended by a learned pen, (in consideration that Garbut, one of the high party, had before been cleared,) his son being employed in printing for Bower's side, in his newspaper, an answer was put up at the Common Hall gate, which complained that Jackson was believed for an action done at twilight, as he said, by men who robbed them of three half pence, for which they had been hanged, and had not the money neither; and that it was strange, plain testimony of the young gentleman against Bower, the verdict of a jury, and just sentence of the law, should be questioned, through a partial defence of such a wretch who more richly deserved hanging, by all appearance. This so nettled old Jackson, who indeed was not to be blamed for what his foolish meanspirited son printed, that he did not long survive it.

I assure my reader that I have related the case with the greatest impartiality; and as I believe the unfortunate sufferers who died at Tyburn, through his evidence, were happy as to the enjoyment of their fleeting souls, so I wish that of Mr. Jackson, through a secret repentance, may appear without any accusation against it at the great tribunal.

I should not have mentioned this shocking digression, if I had not ascertained how much Mrs. White was affected at my absence. Often would she say to my dearest, "Alas, had poor Gent been with me! though young, he was adorned with prudence, and I am sure would not have done any thing whereby I could have been hurt in this barbarous manner: how does he do? does he never write to you? I wonder what's the reason he never lets me know so much as how he lives." After this, her illnesses came on apace, and she suffered extreme afflictions, though she had all the assistance that learned doctors or other skilful persons could afford. Her first husband was a clergyman at Wakefield, and she was very happy in her last. She was of comely stature, pretty features, and generally goodconditioned, but of too great passions when put out of quiet temper. However, her charity to the poor could wipe away a multitude of faults that way; so that, when she sickened, none could be more deservedly lamented by them. She continued for a long while in a languishing pitiful condition, attended carefully by my dear, whom she looked upon little less than if she had been her own daughter. All this while I was as careful in saving what I earned as possible, but yet could not perceive a prospect of settlement, whereby to maintain a spouse like her as I judged she deserved; and I could not bear the thoughts to bring her from a good settlement, without I could certainly make us both happy in a better.

In the year 1717, I had the great happiness of being made freeman of the company of Stationers, at their spacious hall, in Warwick lane; and afterwards, on the 9th of October, in the same year, commenced citizen of London, at Guildhall, notwithstanding the false objection raised against me in the court, by one Cornish, that I had been married in my apprenticeship; but my master, Midwinter, proved him a notorious liar, and he was reprehended by the warden and others. We dined at a tavern that day, and my part of the treat, with other expenses came to about three pounds. A little time after, my parents sent me word that they had given the five pounds I ordered for my first master Powell's discharge, if he would accept thereof; which, at length, he received with a willing heart, and wished me all manner of happiness. Thus I became absolutely free, both in England and Ireland, which made me give sincere thanks to the Almighty from the inward recesses of my soul.

And now, thinking of my kind usage in the Isle of Man, I endeavoured, in some poetical lines, to give it the best character I was able to do. Thus I diverted myself in expressing my gratitude to God and man for benefits received; and now no place of good business was denied me, neither wanted I that diligence that was necessary for my profit. But still it was my fortune, though I entirely loved the young woman, to dread wedlock, fearing so great an expense as that state of life requires, especially from a servant to become superior to others. However, I kept correspondence with my dear, my intent being, some time or other, to set up in a proper place in the country, for as yet my purse was far from being sufficient; nor would it have been for a long time, had I stayed with Mr. Midwinter, for the maintenance he allowed I should take at York, which were but the same as he afforded till I became a citizen, when I thought I could provide for myself, and perhaps others, in a much better manner. In short, as I told him I was for going, he took it so much to heart that, to vex me, I was ordered to depart immediately, without a fortnight's warning in such cases, which fixed in my mind as deep a resentment. What I acted, I modestly judged to be agreeable to reason, though he called me a jesuitical dog, for carrying myself so humbly till I had gained my ends: but I told him that I had learnt that submission from none but Jesus, who took on him the form of a servant for our sakes; and if he wished me ill, it was more than ever I should suppose of him or his spouse, both of whom, I hoped, would ever be blessed with perfect happiness; that whatever they thought of me, I imagined my case was the harder, since I knew they were not unprovided with servants, though their anger would not allow me time to seek a new master; however, I would not aggravate them by more words. " Sir," said he, "have you no copies of mine in your trunk, which you may think to get printed in another place?" "Well, master!" answered I, "this wounds me more than the worst action you could have done by me; here's the key, open it; take them if you find such, and seize every thing I have, for a just forfeit for my infidelity." At which Madame Midwinter said "My dear, don't be too hard, neither, upon the young man, since he will go; perhaps he may repent first, when he finds the want of business; don't spoil what you have done for him, nor hinder him from getting a living in the best manner he is able." Hereupon I returned her my dutiful thanks, and meekly departed.

Some hours had not passed when I waited on Mr. Watts, who promised me business upon the first occasion he had for a new journeyman. Thinking it would not be long I took a lodging at the King's Head court, in Drury lane, at eighteenpence per week, and had a bed in the first fore room, a pretty sort of a parlour, to myself, for I cared not to have any man as a companion, through cheapness, but would give more to lie alone. After some days, the landlady, who took notice of that deep melancholy which afflicted me for being out of business, proved very kind, and said a great many pretty things to comfort me. I suppose to know my pulse, she asked me if I knew the picture of the Chevalier which was in my chamber? But I had other things to think on, or I might, on play nights, have seen Prince George and Princess Caroline visiting the theatre. My notions were not so much fixed on great personages, (though, in a political thought, I did not want the least sense of the most humble and dutiful respect to our superiors in church and state,) as how to spend my time well, and procure an honest livelihood in a troublesome world. I was obliged with sorrow to remove into the city, and constrained to labour at the press, with jobs done at various houses, since work at case was not so brisk but what there were enough of hands to perform. My strength was now put to its utmost stretch, till it happened that I applied to the courteous and ingenious Mr. Wilkins, in Little Britain; on his asking with whom and where I served my time, he thought, as it was a ballad house, that I must, in consequence, be insufficient for his polite business; but upon my desiring him to try me, and if disliked, to discharge me without wages, he became, upon trial of me, so satisfied with my work and behaviour, that he resolved I should be one of his constant servants. In his house I wrought alternately at press and case, the latter mostly on the Bishop of Bangor's Answer to the Convocation; but was much maligned, without the least occasion, by Samuel Negus, [Of Watts, Wilkins and Negus, notices may be found in the Literary Anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century, by Mr Nichols; where is, also, (vol. i, p.305,) a copy of the list of printers distinguished according to their political bias, of which Gent, not without reason, afterwards complains.JH] a journeyman, who had been for a time apprentice with Mr. Midwinter as well as I: that invidious creature, wanting more homage than there was occasion for, used often to twit me that it was through his means I was kept in. How that was, I did not know; but I am sure his peevishness made me long to be out again, to which I may add my great fatigue at the press, furthered on such a desire when I could be employed more suitable to my genius and constitution. My landlord, Mr. John Purser, the joiner, informing me one night, that the aforesaid Mr. Watts wanted a compositor, and would willingly accept me, which he could not do before, I gladly waited on that gentleman, and gave warning to Mr. Wilkins, who, sorry to part, would fain engage me, that if I left Mr. Watts, I should apply to him again. So I went from him; but a little after, the same Negus quarrelling with an apprentice, "What!" said the lad, "will you drive me from my master, as I am sure you did poor Mr. Gent, that harmless young man?" which Mr. Wilkins happening to hear of, protested that if he had known it before, (which my generous temper scorned to take notice of,) he would not have permitted him to order me to the press, but rather parted from him, and kept me entirely to the case, which would have prevented my going to any other; which grieved Negus to such a degree, that the base wretch sent a complaint to the house where I was, by an old printer called Father Peyte, as if I intended to leave Mr. Watts and return, and have the bringing up of an apprentice, to his prejudice; but his apprehensions appearing groundless, plainly shewed what he afterwards proved, for this very fellow composed a list of all the master printers in England, (and, through malice, put me in amongst them, at a time when I was not arrived at that careful degree, but actually working as a journeyman with old Mr. Henry Woodfall, exhibiting the titles of "high" and "low," and those of which he was uncertain as to their principles. This he sent to the secretary of state, in hopes to have a power as messenger of the press; a copy of which, from the office, being given to Mr. Watts, his petition and catalogue were printed and distributed amongst the profession, especially the masters, among whom the wretch was one at that time; but the rascal being sufficiently exposed, lost his credit, and was obliged to return into the condition from whence he came. One Clemson, whom he had made a pressman, as being brother to his wife, went as a common soldier to Gibraltar, the daughter of whom was a poor hawker, though, I believe, the most harmless of the family.

In the year 1718, the venerable Archbishop Dawes came to London, having either been indisposed the year before, or, as a good prelate, did not care to be present or concerned when the executions were obliged to be performed on some illustrious criminals. This was only owing to the tenderness of his spirit, ever inclined to mercy, whilst his loyalty, like the sun in glory, shone with conspicuous rays of lustre, and his piety soared even to heaven itself. As I heard him preach in York, I was comforted to behold him in the pulpits of St. Magnus and St. Clements Danes, in London; and his discourses were so heavenly, his deportment so sweetly majestic, with so charming an elocution, that unusual transports could not fail to bless me, and all who heard him, with sincere devotion.

And now I thought myself happy, when the thoughts of my dearest often occurred to my mind: God knows, it is but too common, and that with the best and most considerate persons, that something or other either gives them disquietude, or makes them seek after it. It was my chance, one day, to be sent for by the Rev. Mr. Smith, near Foster lane, who told me he had heard of my character, and as Mr. Crossgrove was breaking off partnership with Mr. Hasbert, of Norwich, if I would accept of his place, or take so much standing wages as would subsist me, and part of the business for encouragement, he would recommend me: after some consideration, we struck up an agreement; and, a few hours after, I had a letter of encouragement from Ireland, as also a mournful one from my parents, that they were very infirm, and once more extremely desirous to see me before they died. On this I relinquished my intended journey to Norwich, though the stagecoach was ordered to receive me; but took care to recommend Mr. Robert Raikes in my room, who is now settled master in Gloucester. I parted also from Mr. Watts; wrote a lamenting letter to my dear in York, bewailing that I could not find a proper place, as yet, to settle in; told her that I was leaving the kingdom, and reminded her, by what had past, that she could not be ignorant where to direct, if she thought proper so to do; that I was far from slighting her, and resigned her to none but the protection of heaven. But sure never poor creature afflicted with melancholy that I was upon my journey! my soul did seem to utter within me, Wretch that I am, what am I doing? and whither going? my parents, it's true, as they were constantly most affectionate, so indeed they are, especially in far advanced years, peculiar objects of my care and esteem: but am I not only leaving England, the Paradise of the world, to which, as any loyal subject, I have now an indubitable right, but am I not also departing, for ought I know, for ever from the dearest creature upon earth? from her that loved me when I knew not well how to respect myself, who was wont to give me sweet counsel in order for my future happiness, equally partook of those deep sorrows which our tender love had occasioned, was willing to undergo all hazards with me in this troublesome life, whose kind letters had so often proved like healing balm to my languishing condition, and whose constancy, had I been as equally faithful, and not so timorous of being espoused, through too many perplexing doubts, would never have been unshaken, and without question would have promoted the greatest happiness for which I was created. Thus were my agitations so great that, coming near Chester, I fell so suddenly ill one night, that I expected death before the morning; but recovering, and hearing that passengers had waited long at Park Gate for a passage, I would not stay to ask Mr. Ince, a master printer, newly set up for business, but travelled to Holyhead in about four days, and sailed in the packet boat, commanded by Captain Avery. I was very wet, and much fatigued, but one of the sailors was so good, for a small matter, to let me have his cabin, dried my garments, and carefully attended me, for which I generously rewarded him. Early in the morning we took boat in the harbour; but not being able to make up to Dublin, we crossed three leagues, to get to Dunleary, about five miles southeast of the city: we were so numbed with cold, that when we landed, we could scarcely stand upon the sands; but striving till the blood returned into its channels with heat, we got to a house, awakened the people, had a fire lighted of furze bushes, and got some refreshments. The captain, and postboy, with some gentlemen, got horses, but I ventured on foot, without fearful apprehension; on the rising of the sun, I had almost agreeable prospect of the gentry's seats near the shore, and soon after arrived once more at the house of my father.

None could be more kindly received by my friends than I was; our neighbours used to plague me, in asking What news? Some time after, we heard of that wicked intention of John Sheperd, to slay the Lord's anointed; the Irish are very loyal to King George and the royal family, and judged it well done to execute so strange a youth, who had much better have minded his painting, than to harbour the least unworthy thought of our gracious sovereign. So much do they honour the memory of King William the Third, that it is punishable in the least to traduce it, whose equestrian effigy, in brass, is fixed as a great ornament, in College green.

I had the pleasure here of visiting my sister Standish's family, when I pleased, walking in the garden joining to their pleasant house, near the Strand, and conversing with my pretty nephews, and beautiful nieces, as I often did; especially with my dear niece, Mrs. Anne Standish, many a pleasant hour by ourselves, talking of history, travels, and the transactions of the most illustrious personages of both sexes: but now and then, when she would touch of their love, I believe, to know if ever I had felt its unerring dart, my dearest in England quickly recurred to my wandering thoughts, and filled my heart with such strong emotions, that my sudden sighs could not but reveal my inward trouble, which did not pass by unobserved, though I strove to hide them.

But indeed, after some time, I found cause enough to give me uneasiness, for the business, though I wrought with kind Mr. Hume, who gave me what he could well spare, was not near so beneficial as what I had at London; but the affection I bore to my dear parents, so I could but obtain common subsistence, took all thoughts of further advantages away, till Mr. Alexander Campbell, a Scotchman, in the same printing office with me, getting me in liquor, obtained a promise that, when he was determined, I should accompany him to England, where there was a greater likelihood of prosperity. Accordingly, he so pressed me, and gave such reasons to my dear parents, that it was not worth while to stay there for such small business as we enjoyed, that they consented we should go together; but alas, their melting tears made mine to flow, and bedewed my pillow every night after that I had lodged with them: "What, Tommy," my mother would sometimes say, "this English damsel of yours, I suppose, is the chiefest reason why you slight us, and your native country; well," added she, "the ways of Providence, I know, are unsearchable, and whether I live to see you again or no, I shall pray God to be your defender and preserver."

I thought it not fit to accumulate sorrows to us all, by returning any afflicting answers, but taking an opportunity whilst she was abroad on her business, I embarked, with my friend, once more for England; but it was our hard fortune, through contrary winds, to get no farther than Holyhead. From hence, loaded with clothes, after painful steps, we ascended the high mountain of Penmaenmawr, a promontory of a prodigious height, which gave us a sweat to some purpose; the narrowness of the passage, though made more safe than formerly, as it might strike a terror, so its prospect was someway pleasing, to behold so vast a space on the ocean, and contemplate the wonders of the Almighty on the deep. With greater joy we descended the hill, or rather a number of them contained on the large extent, as it were, like the Alps in France; but greater still, to find a house of good entertainment subsiding near the bottom thereof: there taking refreshment, there luckily passed by some carmen with horses not over loaden, who, for four shillings or thereabouts, carried me and my goods to West Chester; and I must confess, the poor honest Welshmen took great care of me, so that we had a hearty drink at parting.

I left my friend as a journeyman to Mr. Cook, the printer, (who had bought the materials of the executors of the late Mr. Ince,) and arriving at London, I applied myself again to Mr. Watts, who readily employed me; but at a new lodging, near Long Acre, through carelessness of the landlady laying wet sheets on the bed, I had such a terrible night, with pain all over me, that, what with the sweat of my body, and the dampness through moisture, the sheets were as wet as if newly washed in the Thames; for my part, I could scarcely walk to the printing house, and when I came there, my ghastly appearance made the men desire me to return, for I was more fit for my bed than to work; but when I desired them to let me stay, and told what I thought was the reason, they cursed my kind hostess: when I returned at night I found her drying the sheets, she was sorry for what happened, and ever after took special care of my safety.

After all, that I had undergone, I must confess, I thought were but my just deserts for being so long absent from my dear, and yet I could not well help it. I had a little money, it is very true, but no certain home wherein to invite her. I knew she was well fixed; and it pierced me to the very heart to think if, through any miscarriage or misfortune, I should alter her condition for the worse instead of the better; upon this account my letters to her at that time was not so amorously obliging as they ought to have been from a sincere lover by which she had reason, however she might have been mistaken, to think that I had failed in my part of those tender engagements which had passed between us. But to proceed in my long narrative.

My friend and fellow traveller, Mr. Campbell, coming from Chester to London, got into the same house with me, when there happened an affair, soon after that, which entirely lost me that place. Near the office, it happened, that Mr. Francis Clifton, who had a liberal education at Oxford, but proved a Roman Catholic, had set up a press, and printed a newspaper. His journeyman sickening, he was in great distress for a hand; so hearing of me and others, we were sent for to an alehouse, where, opening his want, I ventured to assist him for a day or two. But this being discovered, was very ill interpreted, and Mr. Clifton offering me largely, though himself was in poor circumstances, made me resolve entirely to take my chance in his affairs; and so I did in that kind manner that, upon his being arrested for debt, I attended him while under custody of one Earle, so named, a rascally and cruel bailiff, to get out of whose clutches, I paid the money, without expecting any interest, and only took, as security, some furniture he could spare for my lodging.

The usage he received whilst in hold, gave me such horrid distaste to that sort of vermin, that I never cared to have the least society with them; for scarce one action was cleared, but another was ready to be clapped on, and a follower sent about to the creditors to prepare fresh ones. But Mr. Clifton had not been long delivered when he became apprehensive that an extent was designed to be levelled from powerful enemies; to shun the merciless effects of which, he moved his goods into the liberty of the fleet, and there became entered as a prisoner. Here an old Yorkshire gentlewoman who lived in St. John's street, let him have whatever he wanted; the Catholics often relieved him; and he was equally as ready to oblige them in his publications. He paid me honestly almost every week, as my constancy and labour deserved. Some time, in extreme weather have I worked under a mean shed, adjoining to the prison wall, when snow and rain have fallen alternately on the cases; yet the number of widemouthed stentorian hawkers, brisk trade, and very often a glass of good ale, revived the drooping spirits of me and other workmen. I have often admired at the success of this person in his station; for, whether through pity of mankind, or the immediate hand of Divine Providence to his family, advantageous jobs so often flowed upon him, as gave him cause to be merry under his heavy misfortunes. I remember once a piece of work came in from a reverend bishop, whose pen was employed in vindicating the reputation of Mr. Kesley, an honest clergyman, who was committed to the King's Bench prison, through an action of scandalum magnatum, though many thought the truth was, he had only hinted in private to a certain noble an heinous crime, that once brought down fire from heaven, and which was revealed to him by a valet de chambre upon a bed of sickness, when in a state of repentance. And, though I composed the letters, and think, if my memory does not fail me, that I helped to work the matter off at press, too, yet I was not permitted to know who was the author thereof but, however, when finished, the papers were packed up, and delivered to my care; and the same night, my master hiring a coach, we were driven to Westminster where we entered into a large sort of monastic building.

Soon were we ushered into a spacious hall, where we sat near a large table, covered with an ancient carpet of curious work, and whereon was soon laid a bottle of wine for our entertainment. In a little time, we were visited by a grave gentleman in a black lay habit, who entertained us with one pleasant discourse or other. He bid us be secret; "for," said he, "the imprisoned divine does not know who is his defender; if he did, I know his temper: in a sort of transport he would reveal it, and so I should be blamed for my good office; and, whether his intention was designed to show his gratitude, yet if a man is hurt by a friend, the damage is the same as if done by an enemy; to prevent which, is the reason I desire this concealment." "You need not fear me, sir," said my master; "and I, good sir," added I, "you may be less afraid of; for I protest I do not know where I am, much less your person; nor heard where I should be driven, or if I shall not be drove to Jerusalem before I get home again; nay, I shall forget I ever did the job by tomorrow; and, consequently, shall never answer any questions about it, if demanded. Yet, sir, I shall secretly remember your generosity, and drink to your health with this brimful glass." Thereupon, this set them both a laughing; and truly I was got merrily tipsy, so merry, that I hardly knew how I was driven homewards. For my part, I was ever inclined to secrecy and fidelity; and, therefore, I was no wise inquisitive concerning our hospitable entertainer; yet I thought the imprisoned clergyman was happy, though he knew it not, in having so illustrious a friend, who privately strove for his releasement. But, happening afterwards to behold a state prisoner in a coach, guarded from Westminster to the tower, God bless me, thought I, it was no less than the Bishop of Rochester, Dr. Atterbury, by whom my master and I had been treated! Then came to my mind his every feature, but then altered through indisposition, and grief for being under royal displeasure. Though I never approved the least thing whereby a man might be attainted, yet I generally had compassion for the unfortunate; I was more confirmed it was he, because I heard some people say at that visit, that we were got into the Dean's yard; and, consequently, it was his house, though I then did not know it; but afterwards learned that the Bishop of Rochester was always Dean of Westminster. I thanked God from my heart, that we had done nothing of offence, at that time, on any political account; a thing that produces such direful consequences.

During my stay with Mr. Clifton, which, without my design, drew many of Mr. Midwinter's customers from him, I was often solicited by the latter to return again, and he would allow the same premium as the former did, of twenty shillings per week. But not only was I afraid of an inducement to beguile me, and so turn me out, destitute of a friend, when his turn was again served, but also could not be without a just reprehension of acting a very dishonourable part, in causelessly leaving a person who had not, as yet, given me the least reason for separation.

Madam Midwinter did often desire that I should return again to their service; and, for that purpose, sent Mr. Robert Turner, who was formerly my fellow apprentice. But that awful reverence I knew I should be obliged to submit to, the fear of an alteration in their tempers, or that I should offend them so as to feel their displeasure, as I had done before, made me resolve to keep, as long as I could, where I seemed to be more steadily settled. Thus our affairs continued, both persons opposing each other; of which there happened this year, 1719, an unhappy occasion, through the execution of Mr. John Matthews, a young printer, for no less than high treason. I think, eleven of the judges were upon the bench at his trial; his own brother, happening to be in the court, proved his hand writing, as others did of his printing a work, called "Vox Populi, Vox Dei." I beheld him drawn on a sledge, as I stood near St. Sepulchre's church; his clothes were exceeding neat, the lining of his coat a rich Persian silk, and every other thing as befitted a gentleman. I was told he talked, like a philosopher, of death, to some young ladies, who came to take their farewell, and suffered with a perfect resignation. He was the son of an eminent printer in Towerditch, who died about three years before: and his body, through favor of the government, his corpse unquartered, was laid in the church of St. Botolph, near Aldersgate. One Vesey, a journeyman, who was principal evidence against him, did not long survive the youth; at his burial, in an obscure part of Islington churchyard, many of the printers' boys, who run of errands, called devils, made a noise like such, with their ball stocks, carried thither for that purpose; the minister was much interrupted thereby in the burial service, and shameful indignities were committed at the grave. But these indignities being taken notice of, what printers had been at Islington that day, had their names sent off to the courts at Westminster, where it cost their pockets pretty well before their persons were discharged from trouble. Happily I was informed, at Wood's close, of the intended procession; but desirous to be out of harm's way, I shunned the crew of demons, with their incendiaries to a mischief, and took another contrary way.

But, after some months, I went to the same town of Islington upon a very dutiful occasion, inspired with pure gratitude in memory to her, whom I shall remember whilst the sense of thought remains within me. 'Twas occasioned by the much lamented death of Mrs. Elizabeth Midwinter, [Interred in Islington, near the steeple, on Sunday the 14th. TG] who departed this mortal life on Wednesday, February 10th, 1719Ú20. Indeed, considering her former goodness, though it was sometimes mixed with severity, when she pleased to chastise her children and servants when she thought them deserving of punishment, yet being tempered with quick reconcilement, many times with presents, that overbalanced our light sufferings.

I was resolved to attend at her funeral though uninvited, were I obliged even to walk on foot ten miles from London. I procured a lock of her hair, which I intended to have curiously set in a neat stone ring, and so have worn it as a dear memorial. Her body, within a fine coffin covered with black cloth, was respectfully placed in a hearse, attended by her spouse in a mourning coach, by himself, who was followed by two or three more, filled with relations or friends. Arriving at the parish church of Islington whilst the office for the dead was reading, many tears were shed, particularly by a fellow servant, accompanied with mine, with the greatest sincerity, I am sure, for my own part. People of whom she had taken country lodgings in that town, and others, were not wanting in tender respect towards her. She was deposited on the west side of the churchyard, near her first husband, Mr. James Walker; and when the minister had ended this mournful solemnity, and the company departed, I concluded, upon a tombstone adjacent to her remains, the following

EPITAPH.

Lo! underneath this heap of mould,

My mistress dear is laid;

A wife, none better could behold,

None chaster when a maid.

Weep, passenger, when you pass by

This little space of earth;

And think the same death you and I

Must pay, with loss of breath.

In certain hope to rise again,

'Tis here her body lies,

'Till it ascends, with Christ to reign

In Heaven, above the skies.

So, reader, meditate your state,

And let your thoughts prepare

To meet, with solid joys complete,

Your Saviour in the air.

My behaviour whilst attending her funeral, did not pass unobserved by Mr. Midwinter, or his friends; he sent for me that night, and would fain have persuaded me to have given lawful warning to Mr. Clifton, and come to him. He told me that his daughter-in-law's unhappy marriage with a mean fellow had gone a great way to break the heart of his late spouse. He now urged his heavy grief and great distress; how honourable it would be to me, and acceptable to him, if I would but comply, or if not, to do it as soon as I could with convenience. Thus knowing the impetuosity of his desires, I soothed him as much as I could with obliging words; but inwardly was resolved to keep my station, till I had a juster reason than an invitation, which I thought, as before, somewhat precarious; though I judged wrong, I need must confess, as by what hereafter will appear. Nay, such was my strong attachment, that it made me also resist the arguments of some of the profession, against working for such a foreigner as Mr. Clifton was styled, and, as it were, slight that imminent danger which my master had vainly brought upon the family and particularly touched himself, for bold touches on political affairs.

Thus estranged, from certain hopes of quietude, I so continued for several months; in which time, I confess, I was willing to part from him, if I could gain his consent. But his averseness was beyond measure, even when I told him I could procure him a servant equal, if not superior, to me. His temper was very obstinate in relation, but this I looked upon as proceeding from respect and impartiality, though I afterwards found the contrary from him. As he had a desire for those goods that were in my hands, I let him have them without a penny interest; and thought it a particular satisfaction that I was able to relieve him in his extremity. He had, besides, obliged me in printing a little book I wrote, intitled, "Teague's Ramble," a satire I had written on some of our profession, who richly deserved for their unmerciful usage to me and others, their fellow creatures; wherein only the guilty were made to feel its sting, and the innocent commended. But, at length, an accident happening, and the strange violence of his temper therein, (contrary to the sentiment of the comic poet,) to preserve his reputation against the vile assault of a recorded villain that could not hurt it, caused a final separation, and a thorough annihilation of friendship; which, God knows, at least I think, I had never given the least occasion for. The matter was thus: There lived then a common hackney writer, named Richard Burridge, who sold written pamphlets, for about half a crown each, to the printers. This man I had known from the beginning of my apprenticeship at London; for my master used to send me to him, in Newgate, for copies: whether, at that time, he was confined there for debt, or for writing a burlesque, called "The Dutch Catechism," I will not positively affirm; but, to me, he appeared a cursing, profligate wretch, as any of his fraternity in that woeful prison. He, afterwards, was released; but, in a little time, came to be immured, for debt, I think, within the Gate house, at Westminster. So that it being too long a walk, and Mrs. Midwinter being fully satisfied with my genius at the pen, obliged me, in my apprenticeship, to turn author for them too; in which office, my harmless style in relating occurrences that daily happened, proved very acceptable to the public. This was not pleasing to Burridge, no more than he himself became agreeable to human and divine laws; for, whilst drinking Geneva to excess, he would frequently quarrel with the other prisoners; and one time, in company with George Taylor, he drank such healths, in a blasphemous manner, that I almost think are too nefandous to be repeated, though in pious detestation thereof. But, by what they said, 'twas plain they owned the power of Beelzebub as their master, against divine omnipotency, to whom they wished confusion! and, to the souls of the departed, horrid condemnation at the resurrection! words, that in some places would have brought them to the flames, as diabolical testimonies of wickedness. It was thought by some, that this their infernal policy was thus wickedly exhibited to get free of that prison, and to obtain a hole in Newgate, which they might think more proper for their interest. Whether themselves thought so or not, it proved, however, true; for they were moved thither by virtue of habeas corpus, tried at the Old Bailey, ordered to be pilloried; and I once saw them exalted without Temple bar. They had gotten skullcaps made of printing balls, stuffed with wool, which I was desired to carry to them, but these proved but weak helmets to avoid the eggs and stones that were made to fly at them by the furious mob, who had almost knocked out one of Burridge's eyes, who was thought the greatest villain of the two: but, with the other, he deeply marked the person whom he thought had hit such an unlucky blow; so that, when he came down, he drew out his penknife, strove to make up to the youth he mistrusted; and, I believe, would have stabbed him to the heart, were it not for the interposition of the attending officers of justice. Afterwards, he wrote a book, called "Religio Libertini," giving an account of his past life, humbly desiring pardon of God and man, and professing that, from an atheist, he was become a convert. People who did know him were deceived, and likewise those who had given him good advice; so that, what was said by the poet, of such who endeavoured to wash the Ethiopian, might have been applied: "Abluis Æthiopem, quid frustra? ah, desine; noctis;" "Illustrare nigræ nemo potest tenebras:" for the same Burridge afterwards stole a book of mine from out of Mr. Midwinter's printing house; and I lamenting and telling whom I suspected, he so taxed the fellow with it, that he brought it back to me, and said he only took it in jest, and designed to return it when he had read the Epicurean philosophy contained therein. My easy temper went so far as to believe him still a convert: but my opinion changed when invited to our weighgoose; he following the course of a disloyal health, I scorned to pledge the monster, to the great offence of the company; but giving them the reason, that I had lately taken allegiance to King George, on my commencing citizen of London, and that I should abide by my principle, without concerning myself about what they did, they appeared easy; otherwise, I believe I should have been basely treated, only that my master told them, if they hurt me, they would deprive him of his best servant. Besides, in truth, I judged it very dangerous to pledge one, on such an occasion, who, without the least remorse, had shot his blasphemous speeches against Heaven to such an high degree as I have mentioned; a wretch who valued not, for his ends, to turn informer against even those he had a hand in corrupting. However, neither Mr. Clifton or I were shortened as to our kindness towards this unworthy scribbler; supplying him not only with money, but even necessaries of life, till the following piece of villainy set us for ever against him in our defence.

Burridge having sold a copy to Mr. Clifton, likewise disposed of a transcript of the same to another printer, which is very unfair dealing, as it was done without consent, in a private manner; for there should be no more proprietors but the first, to whom it is disposed, since he that is first published will render the other's endeavours of none effect, but rather a great loss to one of them that is so deceived. And now, as Kingston assizes was approaching, my master would not trust him on another account, lest, in a careless manner, he should take the trials so as not to be acceptable to the public; therefore, by him, and the family, it was resolved that I should be sent on Saturday, when judge Eyre was to enter into that town. I had not been long there before I perceived him, attended with a numerous company of gentlemen, and others, who, either in respect or curiosity, besides business, compose such like grand appearances; whilst, on the other hand, the poor creatures, either through crimes or misfortunes, turn to our view the different scenes of infelicity and misery.

I heard the trial of one Carrick, a young man who looked like a subaltern officer, for killing one of his companions, at which a soldier standing by, said he deserved to he hanged: he came off with "guilty of manslaughter," but was afterwards executed at Tyburn, for a robbery of Squire Young, in Lincoln's Inn Fields. I took notice of a very pretty young damsel, of the town of Dorking, in Surrey, who had unhappily given a lad a blow or two in a ditch, where she had followed him, of which, it was presumed, he sickened and died; but she was cleared, as having no intention of his death. There was also tried Mr. Reeves, whose wife kept an haberdasher's shop on the Strand, while he, with one Ryley, an Irishman, were unlawful collectors on the highway. Never did I hear a person plead for his life with greater argument or eloquence: he got clear of about three indictments, though one swore he had met him disguised in a minister's gown and cassock; and I well knew, by sight, the gentleman he borrowed them of, near St. Bartholomew close, after he had escaped from jail, who was taken up and put there in his room, and irons put upon him: which so affected the good clergyman, that though his innocence soon cleared him, he died with grief, at the very thoughts of the scandal that had been thrown upon him. But at last, a gentleman, who had been robbed of about seventy pounds, and knew him, by the crape mufflers being blown from his face, swore so positively that he was the very man that took it from him, when he could ill spare it from his family, that the jury could do no less than find him guilty, and, according to his sentence for death, he suffered with resignation: it was a pity a man, who understood the French and other tongues so well as he did, had not taken to good ways, whereby he might have been an ornament to his country. Another trial was of a wretched sexton, (who seems to have been imitated lately by one Burton, a glazier, in York,) for stealing dead bodies out of their graves, and selling them, as represented in the Beggar's Opera, to those fleaing rascals, the surgeons: but he was cleared of the new indictment, in consideration that he had already suffered a year's imprisonment on former accusations of the like nature. But a poor old man being brought to the bar for sheep stealing, loaded with age and infirmities, was as moving a spectacle as could demand compassion: weeping and trembling, he was led to the bar, craving mercy, saying it was his first crime, and that, if he was pardoned, he would not do so any more. It was so brought in, that the judge ordered him a smart whipping but not with too much severity, and immediately after to be discharged, in consideration of his poverty. But a man, who had been a builder, had passed through several offices in the parish, was sentenced to be transported, because, having an house to repair for another, and there being goods locked up in one particular room, he and his servants mistook them for their own, and disposed of them to make themselves merry: but I believe this judgment was in terrorem to others, lest they should happen to commit the like mistake, for I never heard that the prisoner was sent beyond the sea. These, and other trials, too many to enumerate here, I carefully wrote down, and sent to Mr. Clifton, then in Old Bailey, who took care to get them composed, till I should return with their determinate acquittals, or condemnations.

Whilst from the court, I had leisure time to take notice of the antiquity of the town so called from an ancient royal castle, which had been the residence of the Saxon kings, and where the two Ethelreds, Athelstane, Edwin, and Edward the martyr, had their coronation; for several of their pictures, as also that of King John, are in the church, as benefactors. Abundance of pretty epitaphs ornament the stone pavement, one of which I particularly took notice of, was that of a pious young lady.

But one morning, rising very early, I passed over its stately bridge with twenty arches; and being told his lordship would not be very early that morning on trials, I was resolved to see Hampton Court. Never had I a pleasanter walk, of about two or three miles, between such lofty trees on each side of the road, while the birds were singing their early matins, and every natural production looked with a solemn majesty, as became the work of the divine Creator of the universe; but art shone with a surprising perfection whilst I viewed the three grand areas of that illustrious palace, the noble staircases, the lofty stately pillars leading to the park, near the pleasant banks of the river Thames, that I thought myself blessed within a terrestrial paradise; neither did the stream, when all was over, afford me less entertainment, whilst I returned in a large boat, with several others, towards London: the shores on each side being adorned with fair towns, with adjacent gardens, such as Richmond, Brentford, Thistleworth, and other delightful views, as were sufficient to melt or raise the soul into various ecstasies or raptures; from contemplation of which, I am sorry to return to talk of the rogue who occasioned this excursion.

I had not been, I think, above two days at London after this journey and voyage, and happening to stand at Mr. Clifton's door, but up comes Burridge, and called me many abusive names, telling me I had taken his property from him, and without much more formality, I suppose through a previous knavish design, struck me over the face. I could do no less, I thought, than defend myself, by kicking up his heels, and laying him upon his back, just before the gate of Black and White court, in the Old Bailey; and for all his repeated blows, methinks I should have dealt pretty even with him, if my master had not come out of the house, to whom he had the greatest malice, for then he left me, and I went in; but he flew directly at Mr. Clifton, who laid him sprawling in the middle of the kennel, and then came in likewise. The villain, quick at revenge, first broke the windows; and then, in his mad fit, went directly to Sir William Withers, and unjustly swore that we had robbed him of half a guinea in the king's high way, or open street, at four o'clock in the afternoon: whereas, I never saw a piece of gold with the fellow in my life, but, on the contrary, had often relieved him, as I wrote before. But the magistrate, who was suspicious that what he said was through malice, was very unwilling to grant such a warrant, till he violently insisted upon it; and then he went about vapouring that as for him, he did not value his own reputation, but as he knew we did ours, he would take it from us, by sending us to jail, which then neither he would not do, till the near approaching sessions was just past, that so we might have the longer confinement before the succeeding meeting of the court. This I was acquainted of, by Mr. Pollington, an Exeter gentleman; upon which, I went to Sir William Withers, and when I told him the whole affair, to which he gave most serious attention: "Young man," said he, "I thought, indeed, that the fellow was a mere villain, by his words and actions; and by your coming to me, whom he has sworn against, I take you to be an honest person, and therefore wont secure you, which I might, if I pleased; and if he should get the constable to serve my warrant, though I cannot free you from prison, yet I shall be your friend so much as to acquaint the court with your behaviour." So I parted, between joy and sorrow; for as I did not care to be falsely imprisoned on a rogue's account, if I could avoid it, 1 got some of my friends to argue with the wretch himself; nay, his wife and children cried " Don't hurt poor young Mr. Gent, whatever you do with Clifton," they so wrought with the fellow, who, knowing his guilt, was for letting all cease, if Mr. Clifton would do so too. But far from that, Mr. Clifton insisted to have his character openly justified, and, arresting him for breaking the windows, Burridge was sent to the Compter.

Upon this, I represented to Mr. Clifton, that the oath of a villain could never affect his character, but imprisonment, though innocent, might hurt it, and mine, on whom my daily bread depended; for malicious persons would never then want matter of reproach when they were evil-minded: if, as a master, he was above the frowns of fortune himself, I besought him to consider me, and my friends, who would be much afflicted by such a report; that the trouble and expense would be great on our side, and would be nothing to him, who had neither money nor reputation to lose; and that if he would not oblige me so far, since I was sure I could make all envy cease, he must not wonder if he had obliged me to seek peace in another place, where I could find it. I could not help bursting into tears at our condition; but all was in vain, he would scarcely listen to me; and a little after, Burridge, though in prison, got the warrant served upon Mr. Clifton, stuck to his false oath, and sent him to Newgate, whilst I was obliged to keep awhile concealed.

My neighbours and friends knowing that, if I was taken, I must have been committed also, they thought it pity that I should suffer through the villainy of one, or the folly of the other; I visited the pleasant country towns, taking a useful book or two for my comforters, when I fetched many a melancholy sigh; and when I returned, used to amuse my spirit with the antiquities of Westminster abbey.

I received a letter from Mr Clifton, to visit him in his confinement; but as I heard he was enraged that the warrant had not reached me to bear him company, I had the less reason to trust myself to a man of so ungovernable a temper, who thought his opinion was always to be preferred. I then considered the axiom, "Non fidendum iis, qui impetu voluntatis, non ratione feruntur," and he seemed to be one of those whose will would grasp at more power than reason sometimes allowed; besides, I did not care to come to a jail governed by keepers little inferior to so many infernal devils, who, like Democritus's head on a mopstick, were laughing at the miseries of mankind, living by the crimes, and, too often, the deplorable misfortunes of others. Whilst I remained in this melancholy condition, Mr. Midwinter set on some persons to find my retirement, and to persuade me now to leave Mr. Clifton; who accordingly represented to me, that he deserved it for his obstinacy, and for his desire to have me in prison with him; that I could never expect to live safe with such a man hereafter, who taxed me with ingratitude for deserting him, when, with greater reason, that bad vice might have been applied to him; that I should have eight weeks' payment beforehand, for working so long a time, which would be some comfort, though a future disagreement should happen, which should not be Mr. Midwinter's fault, and hoped it would not be my own.

These pressing reasons, added to my distress, prevailed with me to comply; and then it was I became loaded with reproaches from Mr. Clifton and his friends. God knows if I deserved them, for I am not my own judge in that case; but many said that I chose the better way in such a dilemma. Still I escaped the warrant, though sought after as if I had really been a highwayman. But the sessions being come, as Mr. Clifton was brought to the bar, the court (who well knew the vile character of the prosecutor,) smiled upon the prisoner; and the learned judge, having heard of the villain's malice, seemed angry that such a cause should be brought before the bench, commanding immediately that Mr. Clifton should be set at liberty; by which judgment I became released from any apprehension on account of the warrant. Nor was it long before Burridge, by some flaw he found, or advantage taken, by omission in the law, got clear of his imprisonment for breaking the windows; so, being equally malicious, they were thought the fittest persons to deal with one another. But my greatest friend was Mr. James Read, a worthy master printer, who, in a manner, obliged Burridge to forbear hurting of me, however he used his mortal adversary, Mr. Clifton, who was ill respected; and, indeed, I soon after found, that the latter deserved the usage) in part, that he had received; for it was contrived, that some of his friends should get into my company, and, to extort money, draw words from me that might bring me under the lash of the law, though they perjured themselves by this combination.

When they could not get their vile ends as they would of me, a Scotch rascal, with a vile harlot, and himself, heinously contrived to terrify me, by asserting I had abused their characters, which, truly, then was not worth mentioning; aye, and revenge they would have, if they ransacked the common law and ecclesiastical court for justice; and to such an amazing height of impudence and nonsense were they grown, that they abused me in the open streets. But I, bearing their vile usage with utter silence, and yet resolving to spend the last farthing in my just vindication, they never durst attack me, fearing I might bring them to open shame.

Afterwards, the same Clifton proved himself a villain, in moving off to France with the money of a brewer, to whom he was steward, and left his bondsmen to answer for what damage he had done thereby. There he died, but his family returned to London; and his son, I believe, though he did not discover himself, visited me, as a wretched traveller, at York, some years after, whom I kindly entertained, as my general custom is to strangers. I continued with Mr. Midwinter, happy enough, till such time that he was resolved to marry again: his choice was of Mrs. Elizabeth Norris, a young widow, daughter of Mr. Thomas Norris, a very rich bookseller, on London Bridge, whose country seat was at Holloway, about a short mile from Islington. Mrs. Ann Desternell, [She died in childbed about the year 1725. TG] a poetess, used to carry his letters, under pretext of being a customer.

His presents were extraordinary, as I heard, proportionable to his expectations: he presented her with a fine necklace, worth thirty pounds; and so much got the master of her affections, that she resolved, at all hazards, to be married to him, though her father was rather against it, but, being his only child, and fearing her loss, would not lay any absolute commands upon her; in short, she obtained her desire, and our new mistress was brought home, who, indeed, was a very meek, good-natured gentlewoman. Both the dwelling house and printing office, in Pye Corner, were made larger, by addition of the next tenements thereto; and a lease being granted, my master, at his own expense, had employed workmen, in a manner, to metamorphose the whole. They told him, at first, a less charge, by half, than what they wrote in their bills; and I know not how, from being thought rich a little before their courtship, there suddenly appeared a visible alteration to the contrary. I was much grieved thereat, and fain would have gotten another place, as thinking my wages were too extraordinary for him to pay; and I ever was for having Good hands, good hire, neither more nor less than what I honestly had earned, which would be good both to master and man. But while I was in this tottering condition, I was sent for by a young man, of late married to a widow, to the Fortune of War alehouse, near the entrance into West Smithfield and being seated, he told me, he was sure that I was a kinsman of his, for he had often inquired for me amongst the sadlers, thinking I had been one, as my father was, but happily heard, by a lodger of his, one Mrs. Mickle, that I was a printer, for her husband had been fellow workman with me at York. He also declared that his name was Thomas Gent, as well as mine; that his own father, Ralph, once a creditable baker at Uttoxeter, came up to London after his mother deceased, and died at his house, the sign of the Unicorn, in Kent street, Southwark; was own brother to my dear father in Ireland, who, long since, had visited his English relations, with his daughter, Rebekah; and giving other plain testimonies, desired me to write to my dear father, if it was not true. I was very glad to see him, believed what he said authentic, because Mr. Mickle, then dead, had been my fellow workman at York, and an honest Scot he was, if ever there was such; and when I wrote to my dear father of these things, he answered he was sufficiently satisfied that I might own him for my kinsman. Accordingly, I often visited Southwark; and his spouse, he, and I, respected one another as kindred.

A little after, I happened to take lodgings at a widow woman's house, opposite Sea Cole lane; there I had a bed to myself, because I never cared, after my 'prenticeship was expired, to lie with any man whatever. The landlady, it seems, made a journeyman barber in the place to lie in another room, that I might have a little one fitting for me, which I knew nothing of, or had any desire after what was another's property. The fellow owed me a grudge, however; and the old jade, I believe, was a very wicked woman, as may appear, by the danger that I fell into. It happened, that one Sunday, being invited to dine with Mr. Dodd, a master printer, (whose wife, the daughter of Mr. Bliss, from Exeter, I knew before he married her,) I was shewn, afterwards, the beauties of his house, and turning the last stairs, which went a different way from the rest, and not minding them, through talk of the pictures on the staircase, I fell slanting over the bannister to the bottom, and bruised my side in a very sad manner. I soon, upon that accident, took my leave, and went from thence, which was opposite the ancient palace of St. Bride's Well, to a brandy shop, near the stairs ascending to the Black Fryars, where, in as proper spiritual liquor as they gave me, I pretty well bathed myself, and then went to tell the misfortune to my kinsman and his spouse. At night, as I returned by water, I had scarce landed from one boat, but a person was brought in another, who had been taken out of the river, where he was cast by the oversetting of one of those vessels, by which his companion was drowned, and the waterman had swam to shore. "Lord! thy name be praised," said I, privately, "that through thy providence I am yet preserved, though worthy, for my omissions, to be punished with thy heavy displeasure!"

Coming to my lodgings, who should I see, but my landlady and the said barber drinking Geneva, or drams, together, which I did not know, till then, she had sold: the fellow asked me how I did, and if I would keep them company, but I innocently told them my misfortune, got a candle, and so went to bed. I had scarce got between the sheets, but the rogue came up, and whilst he was bursting open the door, I slipt out, and stood on one side in the dark, trembling, whilst he struck violently against the boards at the bed's head: the cowardly scoundrel, for aught I know, designed to ruin me, and took the advantage by my illness; but as I was escaping down stairs, he got hold of me, at which, finding my life was at stake, I fell furiously at him, and brought him down to the lowest room. The hussy, taking his part, would have had me up again, but calling a watchman, I would not return, but lay in her bed, while she ascended with the villain. In the morning, I ordered my trunk to be carried away: and, by ten o'clock, she waited on me at the printing office, to excuse the matter; she offered to fall on her knees, to beg pardon for herself and the fellow, knowing that if I had catched him by a constable, I might have sent him to Newgate; but her crocodile tears proved vain; I paid the wretch what I owed. She lost a good lodger; and that day, or next, I purchased a bed, which cost me forty shillings, with a chair, table, candlestick, earthenware, and other little necessaries, till, by degrees, I had many pretty things to fill a larger room than what I had taken from Mr. Franklin, watchmaker, in Fleet lane; and found great comfort that I could live as I pleased, whilst master of my own habitation.

Happening, at a lucky time, to meet my old friend, Mr. Evan Ellis, who printed the bellman's verses at Christmas, for which, sometimes, I had the honour of being the poet, and used to get heartily treated: "Tommy," said he, "I am persuaded that, some time or other, you'll set up a press in the country, where, I believe, you have a pretty northern lass at heart; and, as I believe you save money, and can spare it, I can help you to a good pennyworth, preparatory to your design." Accordingly, they proved to be some founts of letters that Mr. Mist designed for the furnace, of which I bought a considerable quantity: that gentleman using me very courteously, in regard of a paper I wrote, which was printed and sold, concerning his misfortunes whilst under the government's displeasure, before his news became, as it were, lost in a Fog. [That is, Mist's journal was after called "Fog's." TG] For, as I treated his moral character with great tenderness, as indeed he deserved, so he was now pleased to remember it, in a very kind manner, in the price that he set me to give for them. Some time after, I purchased a fount of Pica, almost new, of the widow Bodingham, resolving to venture in the world with my dearest, who, at first, gave me encouragement; but my purse being much exhausted by these two purchases, I still worked on for further supplies: after which, I bought my little press, with which I did, now and then, a job of my own, for diversion, though these preparations, I found, were not very pleasing to Mr. Midwinter, which were not bought with a design to hurt him; but it was purely the effect of Providence, that seemed to push me forward in this continually transient life. Having a promise of business from a bookseller, when I did set up entirely, I bought of Mr. James a new fount of Small Pica, which cost, one time or other, above twenty pounds, and several other materials, of various people, till my stock became much enlarged: but still I worked with Mr. Midwinter.

I hope it will not seem downright enthusiasm if I mention a strange dream that I had one night: it was, that being seized by some men, I was conducted by them to a small room, shaped like an oblong, at one end of which seemed a smoky hole, wherein they told me was hell itself, but that they had not commission to put me therein. I desired to peep if I could spy Elysieum, but thought I perceived nothing but vapours and flames mingle together; that then I was taken into another apartment, rather larger, where they consulted awhile: and then they locked me in a third, as though I was, by its awful gloominess, to prepare for death, where were a bed, chair, table, book, and candle. Being left here to meditate, as I thought, the face of a fine grey haired old man, I remember, much like a grandfather of mine, appeared on the wall, with his eyes moving, that I was satisfied could be no image or picture; that, in amazement, I took the courage to ask, Why he seemed to visit me in that melancholy situation? He answered, 'Twas through Almighty goodness and power. "If so," said I, "I pray you then assist me:" at which, smiling, he seemed to vanish in a gliding manner; and I awoke, much surprised, about the deadtime of the night. I slept little after, till towards the morning, and the clock struck seven before I awakened, when, rising, I went to work; but about ten, a deep oppression seized my spirits, and my body was affected with an unusual trembling. I left the printing office, and returned to my lodgings, where, complaining to my neighbour, I was advised to take something that might make me sweat; and telling them my dream, "I pray God," said Mr. Parry to his spouse, "that nothing soon befalls the poor young man, for I do not like it."

When I went to bed, and they concluded I was warm, they sent what they had prepared I should take, by their young daughter, of about eleven years of age: after I had supped it, the child locked the door, and returned to her parents. I was blessed with fine slumbers till, about one or two o'clock in the morning, I was alarmed by a strange thundering noise at the door. I asked who was there; and what they would have? They answered they must and would come in; and, without assigning any other reason, they violently burst open the door. Being undrest, and all over in a sweat, in miserable pain, I looked in a woeful condition; when Mr. Crawford, one of t