mistake, he was very sorry for it, and would beg the lady's pardon. On hearing this the company was more surprised than before, and demanded of the gentleman who had informed him that that house was a bad house? He, without hesitation, replied, "The ostler at the White Hart." Upon this the ostler was sent for, and on his being asked if he had directed that gentleman to Miss A-d-n's as to a bad house, the poor fellow, with marks of terror and surprise, answered "No; the gentleman never asked me for a bad house, he only asked me for a house where they took in the news." So that the ostler's understanding him in a literal sense caused all the confusion. The affair however had got so much air, that our spark was glad to leave the town immediately.

A very strange unaccountable circumstance happened in this inn about the same time: one of those occurrences that puzzle the philosopher, and strengthen superstition in weak minds. Three or four gentlemen of the neighbourhood were drinking wine in one of the rooms, when the landlord of the inn (as it appeared to them) walked into the room, and coming up to the table around which they were seated, they addressed him with " Mr Baldwin, how do you do? Sit down, and take a glass of wine with us." But instead of doing as requested, the supposed innkeeper walked out of the room, without making any reply; which not only surprised but offended the company, who rang the bell violently, and on the waiter's appearance, they ordered him to send in his master. The waiter informed them that his master was not at home. The gentlemen replied that he was at home a few minutes since, and therefore they insisted on seeing him; but the man assured them they were mistaken, as his master was in Bristol, and had been there several days. They then ordered the waiter to send in Mrs Baldwin, who immediately appearing, the gentlemen

asked her where Mr Baldwin was, and she informed them, as the waiter had already done, that he was in Bristol, and had been there for several days: on which the gentlemen grew very angry, and swore that Mr Baldwin had just before come into the room, and on their requesting him to partake of their wine, had insulted them by going out of the room without deigning to give them an answer. Mrs Baldwin then drew out of her pocket a letter she had that morning received from Mr Baldwin, by which it was apparent that he really was in Bristol. The story was then told round the neighbourhood, and all the old women concluded that Mr Baldwin must certainly be dead, and that he died at the very instant that the gentlemen saw him come into the room; but Mr Baldwin returning two days after, rendered it necessary for them to vary their story; they then asserted that it was a token or some warning of his death, and had no doubt but it would very soon happen. It was generally thought that Mr Baldwin was weak enough to pay such attention to the story and the inference as to hurt his health, as he really died within a year after, and the old women were not a little pleased at the event, as it tended to justify the truth of their prediction.

A more ridiculous affair happened about ten years since at the Two Bells, opposite Whitchapel church. The landlord was sitting one night with some jovial company, one of whom happening to say that he prayed to God that such a thing should not come to pass, the landlord replied, in a good-humoured manner, "Your prayers will neither do good nor harm;" upon which the other said a deal to persuade the host that his prayers would do great things; but the more he said in praise of his prayers, the more the landlord laughed at and ridiculed him. The man at last insisted that he could pray the landlord to death in two months time, and offered to bet him a crown bowl of punch to the truth of it, which the landlord

accepting, the wager was laid, and almost every night after this the man came to the house, and constantly laughed at the landlord, and assured him he would lose his wager; and, however strange it may appear, our host did die within the time, and his widow paid the wager. I think there cannot remain a doubt that the ridiculous talk of the fellow actually affected the landlord's mind, and hastened his death; and the following instances tend also to show how easily the lives of some are shortened.

Joseph Scales, esq., about five years since, in turning short one day in one of the streets of London, met a man whom he had not seen for some time, and innocently addressed him with, "Ha! what are you alive yet!" which had such an effect on the poor man that he died a few hours after.

Being at Bristol about four years since, I inquired after a worthy leatherseller whom I had formerly known, and was informed that he was lately dead, and that his death was supposed to have been hastened by a famous fortune-teller who, having cast his nativity, declared he would die within six months, which affected his mind so as to accomplish the prediction. The story of the late Dr Pitcairn, of Edinburgh, and the collier, is well known. This strong healthy collier was, on his way to Edinburgh, made to believe by the doctor's students, although in perfect health, that he was really very ill, and went home to bed and died.

I have set down the above instances, in order to show how easy it is to trifle away the lives of our fellow-creatures; and surely such who wantonly do it, must afterwards have very gloomy reflections.

I am, dear friend, yours

LETTER XIII.

"I had a friend that lov'd me:

I was his soul: he liv'd not but in me.

We were so close link'd in each other's breast,
The rivets were not found that join'd us first."

DEAR FRIEND,

DRYDEN'S All for Love.

In my last I mentioned my arrival at Bristol, where I took a lodging in a street called (I think,) Queenstreet, in Castle-street, at the house of a Mr James; a much more decent residence than commonly falls to the lot of journeymen shoemakers.

In this house I found a Mr John Jones, a genteel young man, just turned of twenty-one years of age; he was also a son of Crispin, and made women's stuff shoes, which he sold by the dozen to warehouses. This Mr Jones and I were very soon intimate; we kept ourselves neatly dressed, and in general worked hard, spending our money chiefly in the company of As

women.

"All men have follies, which they blindly trace
Through the dark turnings of a dubious maze.
But happy those who by a prudent care
Retreat betimes from the fallacious snare."

POMFRET.

We followed this course about four months. During this time Mr Jones once persuaded me to go with him to the playhouse, where we saw Shakespear's fine comedy of "As you like it." This was a feast indeed to me, who had never before seen nor even read any theatrical production. It is impossible for me to describe my sensations on the occasion. Between the play and the entertainment (which was the "Mayor of Garratt”) Mr Edward Shuter performed a short piece called

"The Drunken Man." This was the only time that I ever saw that extraordinary genius, but he made such an impression on my mind that it is impossible I ever should forget him. I believe it is not generally known, as few would have ever suspected, that this child of Momus was also a child of grace.

Since the publication of the first edition of these Memoirs, I have read "The Memoirs of Mr Tate Wilkinson, Patentee of the Theatres Royal of York and Hull," and was much surprised to learn that the famous Ned Shuter was a gracious soul. I will give you a passage or two out of Mr Wilkinson's Memoirs, vol. iii. page 27, &c. "My imitation of Mr Whitefield was beyond compare. Mr Foote was struck by stepping in by chance and once hearing Whitefield; the mixture of whose absurdity, whim, consequence and extravagance pleased his fancy and entertained him highly, as Whitefield was that day dealing out damnation, fire and brimstone, as cheerfully as if they were so many blessings. What pity it is that our fears only and not our reason will bring conviction ; but reason handled by unaffected pure piety and religion would be a day of woe to methodism.

"Mr Foote was only a spy at Whitefield's academy, while I (says Mr Wilkinson) had been a zealot; for some seasons before my encounter at Covent-garden with Mr Foote, my attendance had been constant with my friend Shuter, and as he actually was one of the new-born, and paid large sums to Whitefield, I was always permitted to stay with him, for he was really bewildered in his brains, more by his wishing to acquire imaginary grace, than by all his drinking; and whenever he was warm with the bottle, and with only a friend or two, like Mawworm, he could not mind his shop, because he thought it a sin, and wished to go a-preaching; for Shuter, like Mawworm, believed he had a call. I have gone with Shuter at six in the morning of a Sunday at Tottenham-courtroad; then before ten to Mr Wesley's in Long-acre;