way; accordingly he proceeded to the internal part of the building, and on opening the door, the apparition immediately not only appeared, but difappeared, and that fo instantaneously as not to afford time to apply the remedy intended. And what think you, was this dreadful fpirit? That you may exercise your ingenuity at gueffing, I will here conclude with, Dear Friend, Yours, &c. LETTER 66 LETTER V. Were thy education ne'er fo mean, Having thy limbs, a thoufand fair courfes "Offer themselves to thy election. BEN JOHNSON's Every Man in his Humour. Laugh if you are wife." DEAR FRIEND, MARTIAL. A CAT CAT.—An odd begin ning of a Letter, by the bye-but here highly important and proper, as tending to relieve you from the anxious thoughts which (no doubt) must have filled your mind on the fubject of the concluding part of my former letter. I must give you one laughable inftance more, which lately happened. Mr. Higley, the bookfeller famous for felling odd volumes or broken fets of books, lived next door to a public-houfe in Ruffell-court, Drury-lane; this public-house was separated from his habitation only by a flight wainscot partition, through which Mr. Higley caufed an hole to be cut, and a flider put over it, fo that when he wanted any beer, he always drew back the flider and had it handed to him through this convenient aperture. The night after Mr. Higley's death, which happened a few months fince, the man who was left to take care of the corps, about twelve o'clock hearing the landlord and his family going up ftairs to their beds, on a fudden drew back the flider and halloo'd through the hole, "Bring me a pint of beer." This order the landlord and his family heard, and were terribly alarmed, as they really thought it had proceeded from the ghoft of their neighbour Higley; the poor maid let fall the warming-pan, which came tumbling down the ftairs; the landlady being within the reach of her husband's legs, caught faft hold of them, which in his fright he miftook for poor Higley. But the man bursting into a hearty laugh, restored the fpirits of our hoft and his family. 1 Having now, I dare fay, had enough of Ghofteffes, I will proceed with my narration. During the time that I lived with the Baker, my name became fo celebrated for felling a large number of pies, puddings, &c. that for several years following, application was made to my father, for him to permit me to sell Almanacks a few market days before and after Christmas. In this employ I took great delight, the country people being highly pleased with me, and purchasing a great number of my Almanacks, which excited envy in the itinerant venders of Moore, Wing, Poor Robin, &c. to fuch a degree, that my father often expreffed his anxiety left they should fome way or other do me a mifchief. But I had not the leaft concern, for poffeffing a light pair of heels, I always kept at a proper distance. O, my friend, little did I imagine at that time, that I should ever excite the fame poor mean spirit in many of the booksellers of London and other places! but, "Envy at laft crawls forth, from hell's dire throng, Sucking black blood from thence: which to repair, "Both day and night they left fresh poisons there. "Her garments were deep-ftain'd with human gore, "And torn by her own hands, in which she bore "A knotted whip and bowl, which to the brim, "Did green gall, and the juice of wormwood fwim; With which when she was drunk, fhe furious grew, "And lafh'd herself: thus from th' accurfed crew, "Envy, the worst of fiends, herself presents, "Envy, good only when the herself torments." 66 The true condition of Envy is, "Dolor alienæ felicitatis; to have "Our eyes continually fix'd upon another COWLEY. "Man's profperity, that is, his chief happiness, "And to grieve at that.” I was fourteen years and a half old when I went with my father to work at Taunton, feven miles from Wellington. We had been there about a fortnight, when my father informed our mafter, George Bowden, that he would |