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 THE LIFE 
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT, 
 
 PRINTER, OF YORK; 
 
 WRITTEN BV HIMSELF. 
 
 Honfcott: 
 I 1 HINTED FOR THOMAS THORPE, 
 
 -', KI.DFORD STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 1832.
 
 C. A 1)1. Ml I), PRINTER, BARTHOI.OMKW CI.OSi:.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 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 charac- 
 ter 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 publi- 
 cations; 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 1 746, 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
 
 IV. PREFACE. 
 
 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 per- 
 sons 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 per- 
 ceive good conduct rinding 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 qua- 
 lities 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 per- 
 ceive that this narrative is throughout quite charac- 
 teristical. 
 
 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 pa- 
 rents, 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 narra- 
 tive 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 with- 
 out a rational prospect of gaining any.
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 
 
 - THE 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 
 
 B
 
 THE LIFE 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 fol- 
 lowing 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 
 
 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 my- 
 self 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 
 
 n2
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 com- 
 pany with a jolly fat Englishwoman, and an anchor- 
 smith, 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 
 
 * Kened king of Scotland, Malcolm king of Cumberland, Maccure 
 king of the Isles, Dufval, Griffith, Huwald, Jacob, and Judspill, 
 kings of Wales. T. G.
 
 Mil. THOMAS GENT. 
 
 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 swim- 
 ming 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 no- 
 tion 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 parch- 
 ment 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 fel- 
 low-travellers, the two men, to take on with them; this 
 made me like company the worse: so, delivering my
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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." "Per- 
 haps, 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 
 
 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 good- 
 ness 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 two- 
 pence 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 plain- 
 ness 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.
 
 8 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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.] 
 
 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 Jeru- 
 salem before he returned ; that his ambition was to be- 
 hold many parts of Asia, if he could; to visit Constanti- 
 nople, 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 be- 
 sought one for me from Madam Midwinter: he was tall, 
 exceedingly beautiful, and had a fine address. So much
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 9 
 
 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 endearino-r 
 
 O 7 
 
 "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
 
 10 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 appren- 
 ticeship in Ireland, when my master, Midwinter, exhi- 
 bited 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 send- 
 ing 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. Sache- 
 verel's sermon after his suspension, for which I waited
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 1 1 
 
 from morning till evening to hear him, he had given me 
 what I wanted, and a crown-piece beside, because he 
 took near 30 that week by it; yet still, as he had 
 taken it as a great affront, I imagined resentment con- 
 tinued 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 ap- 
 prehensions, 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, smil- 
 ing, 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 illnature 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
 
 12 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 13 
 
 do no more than return my most humble thanks, for 
 whose prosperity I should pray as long as life con- 
 tinued 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 pa- 
 tience 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
 
 14 THE LIFE OF 
 
 should carefully endeavour to shun the paths of wicked- 
 ness, 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 elas- 
 ticity I flew, as it were, homewards, to the great satis- 
 faction 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, soing- to work 
 
 * / O O 
 
 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 15 
 
 clothes, of about three pounds price, which Mr. Mid- 
 winter had given me, exclusive of my other apparel, 
 I thought that I might do pretty well in the world j in 
 order to which, I furnished myself with a new com- 
 posing iron, called a stick, because anciently that use- 
 ful 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 Ben- 
 money, 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
 
 16 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 ex- 
 plain 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 forget- 
 fulness, they allowed me godfathers, the first I ever had 
 before, because the Presbyterian minister, at my chris- 
 tening, allowed none at his office; and these, my new 
 pious fathers, were the un-reverend Mr. Holt and Mr.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 17 
 
 Palmer. Nay, there were witnesses also, such as Mr. 
 Fleming, Mr. Gibbins, and Mr. Cocket, stanch jour- 
 neymen 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 jave- 
 lin 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; there- 
 fore 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 
 
 c
 
 18 
 
 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, happen- 
 ing 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 gui- 
 nea 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 19 
 
 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, al- 
 lowed 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 Satur- 
 day, reached Sherburn; on Sunday, was much de- 
 lighted 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 
 
 c2
 
 20 THE LIFE OF 
 
 lay something ill in bed ; but the old gentleman was at 
 his dinner, by the fireside, sitting in a noble arm-chair, 
 with a good large pie before him, and made me partake 
 heartily with him.* 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, 
 
 * 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. ED.
 
 Mil. THOMAS CENT. 21 
 
 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 3d of August following, at York; 
 it was on the steps of the magnificent cathedral that I 
 perceived the comely tall presence of that most illus- 
 trious prelate, Sir William Dawes, the archbishop, in 
 company with the lord mayor and chief citizens, when 
 the ceremony was performed. On the 9th of Novem- 
 ber, 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 jour- 
 ney 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* 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, 
 
 * In Apnl 1715. T. G.
 
 22 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 the following lines of what, so young, I had un- 
 dergone in this mortal life: 
 
 i. 
 
 IN fair Hibernia first I sucked in breath, 
 A pleasant isle, where spreading plenty flows, 
 
 A kingdom which, of all the realms on earth, 
 Is, sure, most happy, free from mortal foes, 
 
 Where wars and animosities do cease, 
 
 And, midst of war, enjoys a silent peace.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 23 
 
 II. 
 
 Of meek and gentle parents dear I came, 
 Whose great delight was once in me, their son; 
 
 Who though for greatness they bore not a name, 
 Yet, for proximic virtue, bright have shewn; 
 
 Were rich in grace, though not in shining ore, 
 
 They had enough, and who need value more ? 
 
 in. 
 In gentle sort they did me fair maintain, 
 
 My habit graceful, as I grew in age ; 
 They sowed in me the seeds of future gain, 
 
 Made me to read, betimes, each sacred page; 
 And what successive learning might be gained, 
 They did their best for me to be obtained. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Both writing and arithmetic were taught, 
 
 With Latin, too, for to adorn the tongue; 
 But most, my mother's care, who would have nought 
 
 Be wanting, makes her subject of this song; 
 Whose wisdom with her piety did shine, 
 That rendered her like one a though divine.
 
 24 THE LIFE OF 
 
 "Whate'er you do, my son," she'd often say, 
 "Or in what place you happen for to be, 
 
 In foreign lands, or on the raging sea, 
 Think of the Lord in most sublime degree; 
 
 Then either will He your blest soul defend, 
 
 Or send his guardian angels for that end. 
 
 VI. 
 
 "Whatever wicked men of you may say, 
 However they may strive to do you ill, 
 
 Cease not to Him who made thee for to pray, 
 And doubt not but He will defend thee still : 
 
 Believe me, then, you'll have no cause to fear; 
 
 If God be for you, none to hurt you dare. 
 
 VII. 
 
 " If fortune frowns, bear it with sweet content, 
 Nor blame kind heav'n for partiality; 
 
 But rather take it as a punishment 
 
 Due to our sins, from which no mortal's free." 
 
 And such dear exhortations would she give, 
 
 That in tl>e school of virtues I might strive.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 25 
 
 VIII. 
 Whilst thus I lived, my days went gliding on; 
 
 But far from vice she strove me still to part; 
 Would not excuse the least offence I'd done; 
 
 She'd make me bring the rod, right used with art, 
 Not furiously, as simple mothers use it, 
 But mild, correct, and never once abuse it. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Nor ever did she whip her children dear, 
 But she would wound us with her kinder speech ; 
 
 Ne'er gave a stripe, but we might see a tear 
 In her swoln eye, as if she would beseech 
 
 That, for the future, we might take great care 
 
 No more t'offend, that she the birch might spare. 
 
 x. 
 
 But when, at length, grown up to be put out, 
 
 And as a servile poor apprentice bound, 
 Hard words, and harder blows were laid about, 
 
 Far worse than parents give, or schools are found : 
 My thirteenth year began to find new forms, 
 Like Ocean's rage when windy Boreas storms.
 
 26 THE LIFE OF 
 
 XI. 
 Three years I with a tyrant strove to live 
 
 In easeless days, and more uneasy nights; 
 Sleep that kind nature doth in darkness give 
 
 He'd banish from our lids, and all delights; 
 Severe beyond allowance, like a Turk, 
 Cared for no servant, only for his work. 
 
 XII. 
 
 By nature lustful, and by drink made worse, 
 Fierce over those he knew were bound t'obey, 
 
 Nero he seemed, to us a greater curse, 
 Whilst on our bones he furiously would lay, 
 
 A wretch so furious in his wrathful ire, 
 
 As filled us all with heat, and set our souls on fire. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Such was the wretch, so were his actions vile 
 As worthy proved of just reproach and shame, 
 
 As pushed me sooner to forsake my isle, 
 To be a stranger, and to merit blame; 
 
 Which might, alas! my utter ruin been, 
 
 Had not Jehovah interposed between.
 
 MK. THOMAS GENT. 27 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Unknown to parents, then of friends most dear, 
 Whose hearts for me were with much sorrow filled; 
 
 Unknown to tyrant drunk, devoid of care, 
 Or sober, like a brute, to creature mild; 
 
 Away I moved, loaded with heavy grief, 
 
 And little else to yield my mind relief, 
 
 xv. 
 
 Into a vessel, where I got safe hold, 
 
 Tho' not exempt from high and boisterous storms; 
 Sometimes I could the ocean wide behold, 
 
 To my stray'd eyes display most hideous forms ; 
 Then did I wish myself free from the main, 
 Wish on I might, but wishing was in vain. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 I can't express the sorrows I endured; 
 
 But few, I knew, there were could pity me: 
 Just like the deer, who from the hounds allured 
 
 Himself, but in the lion's paw fell he; 
 So I, escaping from a cruel master, 
 Did seem to plunge myself in worse disaster.
 
 28 THE LIFE OF 
 
 XVII. 
 
 When worst of saliant waters I past o'er, 
 And came at last in sight of British ground, 
 
 Soon after landed on fair Albion's shore; 
 A glimpse of sweet contentment there I found; 
 
 On Providence I solely did depend, 
 
 Praised be the Power Divine that proved my friend ! 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 To London, then, my wandering feet I traced, 
 
 Pinched much thro* want, but more by travel sore ; 
 
 The days seemed long, and nights too quickly ceased, 
 Yet empty pockets made me ne'er give o'er, 
 
 Till I beheld, with joy, its towering spires, 
 
 And fresh became inflamed with new desires. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 In London four long years I did remain, 
 In servitude three years three quarters spent; 
 
 Three years, four months, and fifteen days, in vain, 
 In fair Hibernia I underwent; 
 
 So, I may say, I've serv'd seven years or more, 
 
 My freedom I will seek, my liberty explore.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 29 
 
 XX. 
 
 Dear Mr. Midwinter, this must I say, 
 Though unto me ofttimes I thought you hard, 
 
 For that severity whilst you did sway, 
 You for my service had no small regard ; 
 
 When like a worthy man you set me free, 
 
 Well knowing I deserved my liberty. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Nor was this all which I esteem most dear, 
 
 You like a parent unto me did prove, 
 Well knowing that my friends were not me near, 
 
 Your goodness flowed as blessings from above : 
 May comforts thence surround you from the same, 
 Whilst I your noble virtue shall proclaim! 
 
 XXII. 
 
 I'm not ashamed to own what I have writ, 
 
 Or mourn of poverty, which many scorn ; 
 Nor can I think that I betray my wit, 
 
 If still I add, I was no beggar born; 
 My father dear is of an honest trade, 
 My mother's decent and genteelly bred.
 
 30 THE LIFE OF 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 The best of men are subject unto woes; 
 
 The richest ofttimes fall in poverty; 
 The thoughts of which I ever did suppose 
 
 Could be no wrong to mine, no hurt to me : 
 They 're only poor and woful is their state, 
 Who seek not God, and whom the Lord doth hate. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 'Twas Him alone has been my lonely friend, 
 Whether in shady groves, or mounts, or plains ; 
 
 He 's dried my tears, whilst tears I had to spend, 
 And made me change my joy to mournful strains; 
 
 My flattest notes has turn'd to sprightly sharp, 
 
 Inspired me as that king who played like David's harp. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 O may I ne'er forget a person here, 
 Dear Madam Midwinter, of lustrious fame ! 
 
 Sweet darling woman! Heaven's peculiar care! 
 Worthy in annals bright to shine; your name ! 
 
 What ear has heard, what eye has piercing seen, 
 
 That good displayed? such has my mistress been!
 
 Mil. THOMAS GENT. 31 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 By nature prone to virtue from her birth, 
 
 Made of the finest and genteelest mould; 
 One of the fairest products sprung from earth, 
 
 Her mien and stature pleasant to behold : 
 But though her lov'd perfections seemed divine, 
 Above all these her virtues far did shine. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 I may compare her to that empress bright, 
 
 Matilda, daughter to First Henry king, 
 Whose graces sweet composed, gave such delight, 
 
 Of every action justice loud did ring; 
 Able to wound, yet mercy in her reign'd, 
 And, oft offended, freely pardon deign'd. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 To live unbounteous never did she know ; 
 
 Whilst speaking, pleasant was her speech to hear; 
 Prompted to give, she quickly would bestow; 
 
 If silent, silence seemed to all severe; 
 But when she smiled, transcendent charms were seen, 
 And all were pleased while she appear'd serene.
 
 32 THE LIFE OF 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Farewell, dear madam, if 'tis so decreed 
 That I no more shall thee again behold ; 
 
 But whether God, who knows what all do need, 
 Says live awhile, or soon fall into mould, 
 
 In heaven for ever blessed be thy soul, 
 
 Where virtues glittering most transcendent rule. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Now from a seven years' servitude, at last, 
 I'm sent abroad, to seek my daily bread; 
 
 Through many torments of my mind I've past, 
 And still must look what painful steps I tread; 
 
 For some rejoice I can't as yet be free, 
 
 Whilst others hope that I shall never be. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Printing is sure a fine and curious art, 
 
 Esteemed by princes, great and mighty men, 
 
 Because that things obscure it doth impart 
 
 More quick than numbers e'er could do by pen : 
 
 So cheap withal what manuscripts contain, 
 
 As saves a world of time with little pain.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 33 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 But men who do at press this art profess, 
 
 Do work like horses wild, as seem themselves ; 
 
 Whilst those at case, styl'd asses, seem not less, 
 Though for the most part both are drunken elves : 
 
 Famous for knowledge which they strict pursue, 
 
 But when o'er pot, for dullest scandal too. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Some time amongst these herds I did remain; 
 
 As they appeared to me like grunting swine, 
 Envious at what I earn'd with no small pain, 
 
 And grudging that I had therewith to dine: 
 Till moved at length by kind auspicious ray, 
 I'm far from them, o'er hills and far away. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 I shall not now such characters declare, 
 
 Nor would I, gen'rally, be understood, 
 For though the most are bad, yet some there are 
 
 Of honest hearts, sincerely just and good; 
 But few indeed, compared unto those 
 Who shamefully this art sublime expose.
 
 34 THE LIFE OF 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 And now to ancient Ebor's city come, 
 Perchance I may some time recline my head, 
 
 Till future years shall make me spring in bloom, 
 Or I, through fate, or all my foes, be dead : 
 
 Which way it will, I trust that God will be 
 
 My guardian here and in eternity. 
 
 Young sure I am, and yet have felt much wo, 
 
 But happy 'tis, I own, to be so tried; 
 In vale of tears, we sorrow undergo, 
 
 Before we can in happiness abide : 
 Tremendous Being ! let me never sever, 
 But love Thee still, whose love will last for ever. 
 
 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 35 
 
 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, conse- 
 quently, more able to provide such a handsome main- 
 tenance 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, (be- 
 cause my irresolution should not anticipate her advance- 
 ment,) 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 accom- 
 panied, as far as Bramham Moor, by my rival, on 
 Saturday, the 15th of May; being attended also with
 
 36 THE LIFE OF 
 
 my late companions, Mr. John Mickle, Mr. Penman, 
 Mr. John Harvey, and others. In Yorkshire I travelled 
 through Leeds, Brighurst, Ealand, and over Black- 
 stone Hedge ; in Lancashire, through Ribondale, Roch- 
 dale, 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 37 
 
 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 resolu- 
 tion 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 immedi- 
 ately 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 pay- 
 ment, 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
 
 38 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 con- 
 cluded 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 39 
 
 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 com- 
 manded, 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 occa- 
 sioned 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
 
 40 THE LIFE OF 
 
 Kendall, who was a last-maker, 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 1 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 41 
 
 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
 
 42 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 inno- 
 cence 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 power- 
 ful 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 immor- 
 tal 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 43 
 
 was not a sufficient retaliation, or expiation of his guilt, 
 without a thorough repentance for what he had com- 
 mitted 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 public-house, an exciseman was 
 also at the fire-side 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
 
 44 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 45 
 
 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 ca- 
 pacity, 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
 
 46 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 centered in Him who gave 
 us being, and from whom we derive all celestial im- 
 provements that will reinstate the soul in greater glory. 
 And I reiterated that his care and love became mani- 
 fested chiefly in giving his own son to die for our sal- 
 vation, and sending his Holy Spirit to guide and com- 
 fort 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 con- 
 fessors, 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 47 
 
 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, wil- 
 lingly treated me, and told me he was continually af- 
 fronting 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 spark- 
 ling liquor in clear glasses, we were all exhilirated to an 
 high degree, and sat rather too long, as I felt by an 
 aching head the next morning.
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 de- 
 signed 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 over-
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 49 
 
 took 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 cus- 
 tom is there, I fell on my knees to ask his blessing. The 
 good old man took me up, with tears in his eyes, kiss- 
 ed 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 disco- 
 vered 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 
 
 E
 
 50 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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,* who employed officers to seize me for 
 
 * 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 51 
 
 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 trou- 
 ble,) 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, 
 
 it; he is a man of a great deal of wit and sense, and, I hope, of as much 
 honesty ; and his repartees are so quaint, apposite, and genteel. It is 
 a pleasure to observe how handsomely he acquits himself; in the mean 
 time, he is neither scurrilous nor profane, but a good man and a good 
 printer, as well as a good companion." 
 
 E2
 
 52 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 
 
 O 
 
 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 
 was 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 53 
 
 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 public-house, 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 pro- 
 ceeds, he is on his way to London, having, as it appears, 
 spent some time in York; the years are 1715 and 1716.]
 
 54 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 everyplace 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,
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 55 
 
 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 lye-trough standing at the bottom, he 
 happened to fall with his head therein, when that 
 unholy liquid smeared him to some purpose: we de- 
 scended down another pair of grades, where the paper- 
 bank tumbled after us for company into tha- back 
 kitchen; and, notwithstanding his great strength, it 
 was my happy fortune, through God's good providence,
 
 56 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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,
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 57 
 
 while on my master's business, I had been shamefully 
 abused by one Banks, a copper-nosed 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 capa- 
 city, 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 Barren 
 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
 
 58 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 con- 
 cerned in so wretched a case, by the breaking of his 
 shoe-buckle, 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 59 
 
 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 him- 
 self he was sure of, had the least thoughts of commit- 
 ting 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
 
 60 THE LIFE OF 
 
 put in practice their resolution: but it was not long 
 before they met with King 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 Barren'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, drink- 
 ing, 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 61 
 
 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,
 
 62 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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. 
 Matters 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 sentiments against her, Mr. Bourne 
 being cleared by the judge, as a minor under tuition 
 by which judgment she lost near fourscore pounds.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. C3 
 
 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 an- 
 cient 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 
 Mrs. 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
 
 64 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 tes- 
 timony of the young gentleman against Bower, the 
 verdict of a jury, and just sentence of the law, should
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 65 
 
 be questioned, through a partial defence of such a 
 wretch who more richly deserved hanging, by all ap- 
 pearance. This so nettled old Jackson, who indeed 
 was not to be blamed for what his foolish mean-spi- 
 rited 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 unfor- 
 tunate sufferers who died at Tyburn, through his evi- 
 dence, 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 
 
 r
 
 66 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 good-conditioned, 
 but of too great passions when put out of quiet temper. 
 However, her chanty 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 con- 
 dition, 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 set- 
 tlement, 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 ob- 
 jection raised against me in the court, by one Cornish,
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 67 
 
 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 hap- 
 piness. 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 the following lines, to give it 
 the best character I was able to do. 
 
 BLEST, happy isle ! of thee I now must write, 
 And for thy kindness, in these words requite: 
 When threatening storms did drive me to thy shore, 
 Thy sight was pleasing more than golden ore ; 
 With languid eyes thy lofty rocks I viewed, 
 With rapturous joys our fainting hearts renewed, 
 Sickness, and grief, and want, relief did find, 
 Joys pushed us on, whilst terrors stalk'd behind. 
 
 F2
 
 68 THE LIFE OF 
 
 Life of our souls! who gave me life near death, 
 Prolong'd my days, to find a grave on earth. 
 
 In ancient manner for to treat thy worth 
 Requires a skilful pen to set it forth; 
 I only as a traveller indite, 
 And in peculiar manner mean to write. 
 Thou hast a power, and unerring law, 
 Within thy bounds, to hang, or burn, or draw; 
 And tho' thy king's a subject, from thy land, 
 Yet, I am certain, he 's a king in Man. 
 Thy parliament consists of twelve, 'tis known, 
 Whose wisdom by their government is shown: 
 Thy priests and church like ours. This you may boast 
 That, from all sects, you are unmixed most. 
 No Papists here, or Presbyterians dwell 
 Within your isle, as I am informed well. 
 Religious strictness, sure, in thee is found, 
 And innocence and honesty abound. 
 Let other nations never call thee poor, 
 Thou hast God's blessings, what can they have more? 
 What though thou hast not silver much, or gold, 
 Provisions for the cheapest rates are sold : 
 Good bread, fish, butter, and meat, though the least, 
 Is sweet, and very pleasant to the taste: 
 Fourteen-a-penny eggs, the drink most clear 
 And smooth, to relish down your harmless cheer.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 69 
 
 These, sure, the meanest want not, are not scant 
 Of that which many, in some places, want. 
 Their coin, which way you turn it, always stands, 
 And ever goes, but not in foreign lands. 
 No noisy factions or divisions be, 
 And war or tumult scarce is found in thee : 
 Thy people honest, tho' some count 'em mean; 
 Yet they by nature wholesome are, and clean : 
 Their children, too, (who need not give me thanks 
 For this just praise,) can English speak, and Manx; 
 What tho' they barefoot walk upon the sand, 
 To save their shoes, How pleasing is the strand ! 
 How beautiful the waves, when gliding on ! 
 How soft are not the paths they tread upon ! 
 With homespun garments, they in winter dress ; 
 Make honesty, not pomp, their happiness : 
 A good old age they see, are blest with health, 
 Which do exceed the greatest pomp or wealth. 
 Lo, Nairne ! 'tis said that lordly Scot is sent, 
 For rebel's act, there to meet banishment. 
 But is this exile, when that he can see 
 Not only Man, but likewise kingdoms three? 
 Scotia the north, Albion the north-east, 
 And fair Hibernia, too, upon the west. 
 Not punishment he, for his sins, can call, 
 Or if it be, there's mercy mix'd with all.
 
 70 THE LIFE OF 
 
 Let him, then, bless King George. Nairne cannot crave 
 What's fit for man but he in MAN may have: 
 Doth he want liquor that is strong and stout? 
 No better brandy in the world throughout : 
 There good and wholesome beer and ale is found, 
 There foreign products plenteously abound ; 
 That lord with pleasure circle may the isle, 
 And view ships sailing many a distant mile; 
 From town to town on little horses ride, 
 Or should he tumble off, scarce hurt his side ; 
 Live near the bishop, in fam'd Castle Town, 
 And, acting well, not value mortal's frown. 
 Farewell ! adieu ! thou pretty happy isle, 
 Peaceful and just, which causeth heaven to smile, 
 Relief of ships, and passengers distress'd, 
 By both made happy, may you still be blest; 
 No spunging there, but Christian pity shown 
 To sick or weak, as I have truly known ; 
 Not like Park Gate, where liv'd a griping race, 
 Enough to eat the nose from off your face. 
 If e'er in storms I'm on the surging main, 
 May I be driven to Manx' isle again ! 
 
 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 71 
 
 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 1 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
 
 72 THE LIFE OF 
 
 I should suppose of him or his spouse, both of whom, 1 
 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 aggra- 
 vate 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 ac- 
 tion 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 73 
 
 long I took a lodging at the King's Head court, in 
 Drury lane, at eighteen-pence 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
 
 74 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 con- 
 stant 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,* 
 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 
 
 * 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 ac- 
 cording to their political bias, of which Gent, not without reason, 
 afterwards complains.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 75 
 
 which I may add my great fatigue at the press, fur- 
 thered on such a desire when I could be employed 
 more suitable to my genius and constitution. My land- 
 lord, 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, pro- 
 tested 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,
 
 76 THE LIFE OF 
 
 to his prejudice ; but his apprehensions appearing ground- 
 less, plainly shewed what he afterwards proveo, 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 pro- 
 fession, 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 77 
 
 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
 
 78 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 desir- 
 ous to see me before they died. On this I relinquished 
 my intended journey to Norwich, though the stage- 
 coach 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 79 
 
 esteem: but am I not only leaving England, the Para- 
 dise 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, com-
 
 80 THE LIFE OF 
 
 manded 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 south-east 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 furz 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 
 a most 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 81 
 
 family, and judged it well done to execute so strange 
 a youth, who had much better have minded his paint- 
 ing, 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 punish- 
 able 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 Stan- 
 dish'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 our- 
 selves, 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 emo- 
 tions, 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 
 
 o
 
 82 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 melt- 
 ing 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."
 
 MR. THOMAS (ilJNT. 83 
 
 I thought it not fit to accumulate sorrows to us all, 
 by returning any afflicting answers, but taking an op- 
 portunity whilst she was abroad on her business, I 
 embarked, with my friend, once more for England; 
 but it was our hard fortune, through contraiy 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 prodi- 
 gious 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 pros- 
 pect 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 sub- 
 siding near the bottom thereof: there taking refresh- 
 ment, 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. 
 
 G 2
 
 84 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 em- 
 ployed 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 85 
 
 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 lest me that place. Near the office, it hap- 
 pened, 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
 
 86 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 secu- 
 rity, some furniture he could spare for my lodging. 
 
 The usage he received whilst in hold, gave me such a 
 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 Ions; deli- 
 
 O 
 
 vered 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 con- 
 stancy and labour deserved. Some time, in extreme 
 weuthcr, have I worked under a mean shed, adjoining to
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 87 
 
 the prison wall, when snow and rain have fallen alter- 
 nately on the cases; yet the number of wide-mouthed 
 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. Ken sley, 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
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 vi- 
 sited by a grave gentleman in a black lay habit, who en- 
 tertained 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 grati- 
 tude, 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,
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 
 
 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." There- 
 upon, 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 in- 
 clined 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, happen- 
 ing 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
 
 90 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 reprehen- 
 sion 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
 
 Mil. THOMAS GENT. 91 
 
 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 hap- 
 pened 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 bro- 
 ther, 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 Tower-ditch, 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 church-yard,
 
 92 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 ic 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 remem- 
 ber whilst the sense of thought remains within me. 
 'Twas occasioned by the much lamented death of Mrs. 
 Elizabeth Midwinter,* who departed this mortal life on 
 Wednesday, February 10th, 17 Jg. Indeed, considering 
 
 * Interred in Islington, near the steeple, on Sunday the 14th. T. G.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 93 
 
 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 reconcile- 
 ment, many times with presents, that overbalanced our 
 light sufferings. 
 
 I was resolved to attend at her funeral though unin- 
 vited, 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 mourn- 
 ing 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, particu- 
 larly 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.
 
 94 THE LIFE OF 
 
 James Walker; and when the minister had ended this 
 mournful solemnity, and the company departed, I con- 
 cluded, 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 f 
 
 Must pay, with loss of breath. 
 
 In certain hope to rise again, 
 
 7 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.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 9/3 
 
 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 honour- 
 able 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 invita- 
 tion, 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.
 
 96 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 con- 
 sent. 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 friend-
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 97 
 
 ship ; 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 
 Bui-ridge, 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 woful 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 occur- 
 rences 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
 
 98 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 mas- 
 ter, 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 de- 
 sired 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 99 
 
 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 /Ethiopem, quid frustra? ah, desine; noctis 
 "Illustrare nigrae 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 
 
 H 2
 
 100 THE LIFE OF 
 
 therein. My easy temper went so far as to believe him 
 still a convert : but my opinion changed when invited 
 to our weigh-goose ; he following the course of a dis- 
 loyal 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; other- 
 wise, 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 villany set us for ever against him in our 
 defence.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 101 
 
 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 j 
 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 curi- 
 osity, besides business, compose such like grand appear- 
 ances; 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
 
 102 THE LIFE OF 
 
 deserved to be 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 
 w r ell 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 gentle- 
 man, who had been robbed of about seventy pounds,
 
 Mil. THOMAS GENT. 103 
 
 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 infirmi- 
 ties, was as moving a spectacle as could demand com- 
 passion: 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 whip-
 
 104 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ping, 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 par- 
 ticular 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 
 sea. These, and other trials, too many to enumerate 
 here, I carefully wrote down, and sent to Mr. Clifton, 
 then in the Old Bailey, who took care to get them com- 
 posed, till I should return with their determinate acquit- 
 tals, 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, Athel- 
 stane, Edwin, and Edward the Martyr, had their coro- 
 nation; for several of their pictures, as also that of 
 King John, are in the church, as benefactors. Abuu-
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 105 
 
 dance 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 para- 
 dise ; 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
 
 106 THE LIFE OF 
 
 raise the soul into various extacies 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 de- 
 fend 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:
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 107 
 
 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 sus- 
 picious 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 j ust 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
 
 108 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 per- 
 sons 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 con- 
 sider 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 109 
 
 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
 
 110 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 condi- 
 tion, 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, pre- 
 vailed with me to comply ; and then it was I became
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. Ill 
 
 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 ano- 
 ther. 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
 
 112 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 ecclesias- 
 tical 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 113 
 
 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,* a poetess, used to carry his 
 letters, under pretext of being a customer. 
 
 His presents were extraordinary, as I heard, propor- 
 tionable 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, goodnatured gentlewoman. Both the dwelling- 
 
 * She died in childbed al>out the year 172"). T. (i. 
 
 I
 
 ] 14 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 ale- 
 house, near the entrance into West Smithfield; and 
 being seated, he told me, he was sure that I was a kins- 
 man 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 115 
 
 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, 
 South wark; was own brother to my dear father in Ire- 
 land, 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 kins- 
 man. Accordingly, I often visited South wark; 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 'prentice- 
 ship 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 
 
 i 2
 
 116 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 dan- 
 ger 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 mind- 
 ing 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 1 17 
 
 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 hussey, 
 taking his part, would have had me up again, but call- 
 ing 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
 
 118 THE LIFE OF 
 
 o'clock, she waited on me at the printing office, to ex- 
 cuse 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, earthen- 
 ware, 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
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 119 
 
 of letters that Mr. Mist designed for the furnace, of 
 which I bought a considerable quantity: that gentle- 
 man using me very courteously, in regard of a paper I 
 wrote, which was printed and sold, concerning his mis- 
 fortunes whilst under the government's displeasure, be- 
 fore his news became, as it were, lost in a Fog.* For^ 
 as I treated his moral character with great tenderness, 
 as indeed he deserved, so he was now pleased to remem- 
 ber it, in a veiy 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 
 
 * That is, Mist's journal was after called "Fog's." T. G.
 
 120 THE LIFE OF 
 
 business from a bookseller, when I did set up entirely, 
 I bought of Mr. James a new fount of Small Pica, 
 
 O ' 
 
 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 grand- 
 father of mine, appeared on the wall, with his eyes 
 moving, that I was satisfied could be no image or pic-
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 121 
 
 ture; that, in amazement, I took the courage to ask, 
 Why he seemed to visit me in that melancholy situa- 
 tion ? " 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 dead- 
 time 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 slum- 
 bers till, about one or two o'clock in the morning, I was 
 alarmed by a strange thundering noise at the door.
 
 122 THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 woful condition; when 
 Mr. Crawford, one of the king's messengers, took hold 
 of my hands, and seized a pretty pistol that lay near 
 me, a pair of which I had procured, from Holland, as a 
 defence against thieves or housebreakers, which was 
 never after returned me : but the insolence of Kent, his 
 companion, I could scarce bear, when, helping on my 
 clothes, he went to search my pockets for what written 
 papers he could find therein. I called him blockhead, 
 and told him, had I been in another condition, I might, 
 perhaps, have laid him by the heels; at which he scorn- 
 fully said, he never should fear a ghost, intimating 
 that I seemed little better than a spirit at that time. 
 Being obliged to submit, I only besought them to let me 
 know if their warrant specified any crime that I had 
 done, for I was truly insensible of any that could occa- 
 sion such usage ? They then told me of an information 
 lodged at the Secretary's office, before Mr. De la Faye, 
 about some lines concerning the imprisoned Bishop of
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 123 
 
 Rochester, that had given offence, and which I should 
 be, in time, made sensible of; but as I knew it was a 
 notorious falsity, and, as I thought, contrived by some 
 wicked enemy, whom I partly guessed, I insisted no 
 further, only desired, whilst I was fully dressing myself, 
 that, as they beheld me defenceless, without a family 
 to look after my effects, they would be so good as to 
 see the door fastened which they had broken, so that I 
 might not be robbed, during my confinement, of what 
 I had so honestly and painfully earned. This, indeed, 
 they complied with, and descending the stairs with 
 them, I found the passages below and the court-yard 
 filled to the very gate with constables, watchmen, and 
 others, which called to my remembrance my injured 
 Saviour's apprehension in the garden of Gethsemane, 
 where He, all innocence and divine, sweat drops of 
 blood ; but I, a poor sinful wretch, thought much, at 
 this time, to feel what only seemed like water. They 
 made me get into a coach, which they ordered to drive 
 towards Newgate; and coming near St. Sepulchre's 
 church, I was brought to the pavement on the east side, 
 into a public-house, and placed in a room with a guard
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 at the door, so that I could not stir, but I was carefully 
 attended by a grim-looked, illnatured fellow. 
 
 My pains came to that extremity, that I was obliged 
 to alleviate them with a quartern of brandy; after 
 which, I was amazed to find my master, Mr. Midwinter, 
 brought in as a prisoner, and left with me also. "What, 
 sir," said I, "have they made me appear greater than 
 you, by placing me first in the warrant for our appre- 
 hension ? me, who am but your servant, and, you know, 
 has wrote nothing for you this long time, except an 
 abridgment of three volumes of 'Crusoe' into one, or 
 being otherwise employed in the affairs of printing 
 only?" But we had not long communed, before others 
 were brought in, and who, amongst the rest, but my 
 beloved friend, Mr. Clifton, also ! upon which, I observed 
 a profound silence. But when we were to be carried to 
 Westminster, I besought the messenger that I might 
 not be seated in the same coach with him, but accom- 
 pany Mr. Midwinter, which he granted. 
 
 At length we arrived at Manchester court, where we 
 found a very fine house, with a centinel at the door; 
 but within, though very spacious, we felt the fusty
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 125 
 
 smell of a prison. When I came into my apartment, it 
 answered exactly, in the bigness and form, to that I had 
 imagined in my dream: in the morning, I viewed on 
 the staircase a fine picture of St. Augustine, which, I 
 judged, had once been the property of some state 
 prisoner; I could, from the high window, behold the 
 spacious river Thames, and hear the dashing of the 
 flowing waters against the walls that kept it within due 
 bounds. Such a pleasant prospect appeared from my 
 humble back apartment, where I had a bed without cur- 
 tains, a table, with a little looking-glass, and a chair to 
 sit on ; but in the next room, forward, was confined that 
 unhappy young Irish clergyman, Mr. Neypoe: unhappy 
 gentleman indeed! through the reflections of the Bishop 
 of Rochester, (how deserving I cannot tell,) as well as 
 of the noted Mr. Dennys Kelly, then both prisoners in 
 the Tower. I used to hear him talk to himself, when 
 his raving fits came on; and now and then would he 
 sing psalms with such a melodious voice as produced 
 both admiration and pity from me, who was an object 
 of commiseration myself, in being awhile debarred 
 from friends to see me, or the use of pen, ink, and 
 paper, to write to them.
 
 126 THE LIFE OF 
 
 But scarce two days were past, when I was ordered 
 to have my apartment changed to one below, more 
 gloomy, but larger, where I had opportunity to inquire, 
 of the genteel and handsome maiden, Hannah, what 
 was the reason of Mr. Neypoe's confinement: she told 
 me it was something in a high degree relating to the 
 Bishop of Rochester. Here my friends were allowed 
 to visit me, my bed was decently curtained, and softer, 
 and my table handsomer spread. I had, afterwards, 
 further liberties in the house and yard; and, after three 
 days more, as nothing could be proved against me, I 
 was honourably discharged. Immediately I took boat, 
 I think it was from palace-yard stairs, in which my 
 head seemed to be affected with a strange giddiness; 
 and when I safety arrived at home, some of my kinder 
 neighbours appeared very joyful at my return. My 
 poor linnet, whose death I very much feared would 
 come to pass, saluted me with her long, pleasant, chirp- 
 ing notes, and, indeed, the pretty creature had occasion 
 to be the most joyful, for her necessary stock was 
 almost exhausted, and I was come just in the critical 
 time to yield her a fresh supply. 
 
 I had not been long at liberty before Mrs. Hannah,
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 127 
 
 the messenger's maid, by whom I was used very cour- 
 teously, made me a visit, and acquainted me that the 
 Rev. Mr. Neypoe was found dead in the Thames, as 
 though he had been drowned. "When you left us," said 
 she, "the high room you first was in was judged, by the 
 messenger, to be the securest place to keep him from mak- 
 ing an escape." "It's very strange to me," said I, "if 
 that was the reason; because I think no apartment was 
 stronger than where he was confined, through the nails 
 that I see driven into some of the boards; nor any 
 place fitter, from which he might have been secured 
 by the sentry at the door of the house, had he attempted 
 to break from thence: but proceed, I pray." "Why," 
 said she, " the evening before, I went up to wait ,on him, 
 as usual, and found him sitting on the bed in a very 
 melancholy condition : he had on his hands a new pair 
 of white gloves, which, he supposed, would serve him 
 till his funeral; and that he thought his death was ap- 
 proaching: that same night he tied the sheets and 
 blankets fast together, and made all to the stancheon 
 of the window; descending, without noise to wake us, 
 from that vast height into the paved yard. He then 
 must have climbed over the high walls, and passed over
 
 128 THE LIFE OF 
 
 two or three others, till he came to the river, into which 
 descending, hoping, no doubt, it might not have been 
 out of his depth, he experienced the contrary, for there 
 he was immerged and lost! The neighbouring justice," 
 added she, "made inquiry as if he had been on purpose 
 made away with; but it coming to nothing but a noise, 
 the corpse was interred." Thus ended the maiden 
 Hannah, whom I went to see afterwards, but never could 
 find her. But I often pitied the poor gentleman's fate, 
 because, if he had lived, he might have defended his 
 reputation, which was so bitterly inveighed against by 
 the learned Bishop I have mentioned, as well as by the 
 speech of his countryman, Mr. Kelly, the year after; 
 for a nation has a right to be satisfied on such impor- 
 tant occasions. 
 
 My stock of goods growing larger by my careful 
 industry, I moved into the next house, where I set up 
 my press and letters in a light room that was adjoining 
 to the garden of the Fleet prison, where the gentlemen 
 prisoners took their diversion; and here I published, 
 truly, some things relating to the Bishop, worked by 
 hired servants, that made some amends for what I had 
 suffered through wrong information on his account;
 
 MU. THOMAS <;KNT. 
 
 and whilst I pleased the people by an artful taking 
 title, I strove to instil into them the principles of loyalty, 
 love, and obedience. Thus I helped an under class of 
 my fellow-creatures by keeping servants on occasion, 
 and Mr. Midwinter, as a servant, by my constancy in 
 his business; though, I confess, the fatigue was exceed- 
 ingly great, and almost above what I could manage. 
 I imagined that, after some little time, things would so 
 fall out, that I should have occasion to invite my dear 
 to London; but one Sunday morning, as my shoes were 
 japanning by a little boy, at the end of the lane, 
 there came Mr. John Hoyle, who had been a long time 
 in a messenger's custody on suspicion for reprinting 
 "Vox Populi, Vox Dei," under direction of Mrs. 
 Powell, whom he wrought with as journeyman: "Mr. 
 Gent," said he, "I have been to York to see my parents, 
 and am but just, as it were, returned to London; I am 
 heartily glad to see you, but sorry to tell, that you 
 have lost your old sweetheart, for I assure you, that she 
 is really married to your rival, Mr. Bourne." I was so 
 thunderstruck, that I could scarcely return an answer: 
 all former thoughts crowding; into my mind; the con- 
 
 O / 
 
 sideration of spending my substance on a business I 
 
 K
 
 130 THE LIKE OF 
 
 would not have engaged in as a master but for her 
 sake, my own remissness that had occasioned it, and 
 withal, that she could not, in such a case, be much 
 blamed for mending her fortune: all these threw me 
 under a very deep concern, and occasioned me to mis- 
 judge on many occasions. My old vein of poetry 
 flowed in upon me, which gave some vent to my pas- 
 sion; so I wrote a copy of verses, agreeing to the tune 
 of "Such Charms has Phillis," &c., then much in re- 
 quest, and proper for the flute, that I became acquainted 
 with. 
 
 THE 
 FORSAKEN LOVER'S LETTER TO HIS FORMER SWEETHEART. 
 
 I. 
 
 WHAT means my dearest, my sweet lovely creature, 
 
 Thus for to leave me to languish alone? 
 Why so preferred, if not to be greater, 
 
 Must a strange lover then take what's my own ? 
 How did you promise, when we were walking 
 
 In the sweet meadows and gardens so fair, 
 That you were blest in me, as I was blest in thee, 
 
 And ever, till death, we should be as one pair.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 131 
 
 Fate, most unkindly, you know it, has parted, 
 
 And forced from you some years have I been; 
 It is long absence makes me broken-hearted, 
 
 Yet I adored you as much as a queen; 
 And ne'er ambition could make me slight you, 
 
 So much devoted was I to your charms : 
 My heart rends asunder, to think this world's splendor 
 
 Should make you fly to a rich lover's arms. 
 
 How could you slight me, your only sweet jewel, 
 
 Ready to die when this news he did hear! 
 Surely you cannot, cannot be so cruel, 
 
 But, when you think of me, to shed a tear. 
 Think of those treasures for you I have slighted ; 
 
 Think of my travels, by land and by sea: 
 Little I thought your love would, my dear, so remove, 
 
 Or that mine heart should be changed away. 
 
 K2
 
 132 THE LIFE OF 
 
 IV. 
 
 You wish me happy! pray keep back your wishes; 
 
 Give them to him that you have made your own ; 
 Number them, dearest, amongst all your riches, 
 
 And only think of me when dead and gone! 
 Or, if I live, grief will be my portion, 
 
 Rambling about, like a poor distressed swain; 
 Strangers do kinder prove than my false-hearted love, 
 
 Whom I am never for to see again. 
 
 When we embraced with circling sweet pleasure, 
 
 Who would have thought that so soon we should part ! 
 True love is better than Indian treasure, 
 
 Curse on the gold which has broken my heart ; 
 For none on earth I, like her, admired, 
 
 Whom I desired most loyal to be; 
 But, like a treacherous maid, she has poor me betrayed, 
 
 Proving there's none can be falser than she.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 133 
 
 VI. 
 
 Had I my heart, that once I could boast on, 
 
 Ne'er would I give it to woman again, 
 Tis like a vessel, that on a rock's lost on; 
 
 False womankind is that rock I do mean. 
 Winds of ambition, glory, and splendor, 
 
 Set their sweet, beauteous hearts all on fire; 
 Make them true lovers' scorn, and leave 'em quite forlorn, 
 
 Bleeding and dying for love they expire. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Now to the woods and the groves I'll be ranging; 
 
 Free from all women, I'll vent forth my grief; 
 While birds are singing, and sweet notes exchanging, 
 
 This pleasing concert will yield me relief. 
 Thus like the swan, before it's departing, 
 
 Sings forth its elegy in melting strains, 
 My dying words shall move all the kind pow'rs above 
 
 To pity my fate, the most wretched of swains.
 
 134 THE LIFE OF 
 
 However, once more, farewell, thou dear creature! 
 
 May you be bless'd, 'till life pass away ; 
 But may it ever be in your sweet nature 
 
 To think upon me, though laid in cold clay ; 
 And often sigh, alas, my true lover, 
 
 What have I done, my dearest, to you ! 
 Ever I shall deplore, if we must meet no more, 
 
 For though you fly from thought, thought will pursue. 
 
 When I had done, as I did not care that Mr. 
 Midwinter should know of my great disappointment, 
 I gave the above copy, except the last stanza, to Mr. 
 Dodd, who, printing the same, sold thousands of them, 
 for which he offered me a price j but as it was on my 
 own proper concern, I scorned to accept of any thing, 
 except a glass of comfort or so, and became so gracious 
 with him and his spouse, that if I did not often visit 
 them, they were offended. Yet here I perceived some- 
 thing in matrimony that might have weaned me from 
 affection that way; for this couple often jarred for very
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 135 
 
 trifling occasions, as I thought; she would twit him 
 with a former lover of his, and this jealousy of hers 
 would just drive him to madness. Once he threw a 
 thing at her, which struck me in the forehead, and set 
 me bleeding, with which they both appeared mightily 
 concerned, and craved pardon, which I readily granted, 
 though 1 came not so frequently afterward; but one 
 time, taking notice of a stone ring on my finger, in 
 which was some of my dear mother's hair, she requested, 
 that if I died first, I might bequeath it to her: "Pray, 
 madam," said I, "and what, on the like consideration of 
 death, will you please to leave me?" "This pretty pic- 
 ture of Narcissus," answered she, "which my own 
 hands painted on the glass." To this we agreed, only 
 speaking to her husband: "My dear," said she, "if I 
 die first, pray let it be handsomely framed, and delivered, 
 for my sake, to Mr. Gent." The dear creature shortly 
 after fell ill; so bad that, expecting death, she earnestly 
 desired that I would receive the blessed sacrament with 
 her; though unworthy, I could not refuse it; but the 
 parson, being brought from a coffee-house, was extremely 
 illnatured, quarrelled with the nurse about the cleanli- 
 ness of a cup, and, having administered it, hoped that
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 she would die in pleasure, without giving him much 
 more trouble. Her devotion in receiving it was extra- 
 ordinary; she embraced the heavenly viaticum in a 
 degree of transport, and she had the goodnature not 
 to answer his indifferent speech at departure. It was 
 not long before she sweetly departed this life: I saw 
 her coffin when brought home, which indeed was very 
 handsome; but I thought it strange that her lovely 
 corpse (for she was a beautiful young gentlewoman,) 
 should be laid therein by the joiner's servants, whilst the 
 unconcerned husband and his relations were joyfully 
 carousing below-stairs. She was buried in St. Bride's 
 church-yard; and before my acquaintance ceased with 
 him, he delivered me the picture, handsomely framed, 
 which I now keep in my bedchamber. I made him no 
 more visits, because I did not know if they might be 
 acceptable; especially I thought it prudent to omit them 
 when I heard of his sudden new marriage, little think- 
 ing that I should afterwards become her servant: she 
 was a neat person, daughter to a sea captain, who had 
 her educated at the boarding-school at Hackney. She 
 was a widow, left with a pretty son, when Mr. Dodd 
 married her, who only lived till he also had a child by
 
 MR. THOMAS GKNT. 137 
 
 her; and on his death-bed desired, if possible, she 
 might procure me as a journeyman to manage the busi- 
 ness, which came to pass, as towards the sequel of the 
 first part of my life will appear. 
 
 It was, as near as I can remember, about the begin- 
 ning of the year 1723, when Mr. Midwinter ordered 
 me to paper up all the printing letters, in so extraordinary 
 a manner that is seldom or never done but with a de- 
 sign of removal to move off, and prevent a seizure for 
 debt. I implicitly obeyed, without the least inquiry 
 why he did it, but I was not so blind as not to perceive 
 the drift, nor well pleased that others were acquainted 
 with the secret, and my fidelity mistrusted; but as I 
 had a sincere respect for him, I kept all within my 
 breast, till I knew the carts were to come in the night 
 time, and carry all away into the Mint; then it was I 
 took my little box, in which I had my own necessaries, 
 and several pounds in silver, for I never trusted all my 
 money in one place, I had put an hundred pounds out 
 to use in Ireland, the interest of which I allowed to my 
 dear parents, who were my faithful stewards; but Mr. 
 Midwinter falling out with me, as I had it privately 
 under my coat lap, fearing it should be lost, gave me
 
 138 THE LIFE OF 
 
 some uneasiness, before I could get liberty to convey it 
 to my own lodgings. "Sir," said I, "you never need 
 fear any discovery through me: your misfortune be- 
 comes mine, since, I know, I am never to serve you any 
 more; but I always dreaded such a parting, which 
 never was through any fault of mine, nor do I impute 
 it to yours, but your misfortune, not to be described, 
 since, by this means, our mistress is separated from you 
 too, in being sent home to her father, or, as I hear, will 
 soon be." He looked fiercely sullen at me, neither pay- 
 ing my accustomary wages, or requiring my attendance 
 the next day, as he had done others. This I took very 
 unkindly, but thought it my duty to submit, except in 
 privately moving off my own, without the least inten- 
 tion of hurt, nor was there in that the least occasion of 
 fear, it being a very dark night. However, I waited 
 upon him at his new habitation in the Mint, on Monday, 
 where I found him so strange that he would scarcely 
 speak to me: God forgive the wretch who made the 
 difference! I think I have guessed him; and if so, I 
 lent him what he never had the honesty to pay. As I 
 found my master not willing I should so much as look 
 into the house, for fear, I suppose, I should learn how
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 139 
 
 to order my own materials, as I afterwards heard, I 
 turned about to depart; but told him, that his coldness 
 was more grievous to me than any woful prospect I 
 could conceive. He said it could not be helped : I said 
 I wished him and his all imaginary happiness, and that 
 what I came for was, purely to crown our separation in 
 a friendly manner. "Nay," said he, "rather for the 
 money I owe you." "For that," I answered, "you are 
 heartily welcome to, and more, sir, if you please, since I 
 have earned sufficiently in your service." "Why then," 
 said he, "it shall not be said that your old master, 
 though now a Minter, shall now be out-done in point of 
 generosity:" and so, obliging me to go into an ale- 
 house, he gave me my money to a farthing, with as kind 
 wishes as I used to him; "Though," added he, "I must 
 act against you in trade, as the world, through necessity, 
 obliges most people to do, even amongst the nearest 
 relations." Thus parting, I became quite out of sub- 
 jection to any master. 
 
 Being near Kent street, I thought it proper to visit 
 my new relations : but alas ! they, too, were flown in 
 the Mint, from whence I was but just come. Strange 
 vicissitudes in life ! and happy asylum, thought I, for
 
 140 THK LIFE OF 
 
 the distressed! I sought and found my poor cousin 
 sick in bed of a fever, his spouse attending him, and 
 their numerous goods huddled together in very little 
 room: having mutually comforted each other, I went 
 to my apartments, and put my goods in better order. I 
 printed a collection of songs proper for the summer's 
 entertainment: a little book of Emblems, and a 
 "Preparation for Death," kept me at work for some 
 months after, with bills for the cockpits, which were 
 done twice a week; but business failing, and journey- 
 work being brisk in great houses, I applied to Mr. 
 Henry Woodfall, who readily accepted me, and I helped 
 to finish the part that he had of a learned Dictionary. 
 
 Whilst with him, I got servants of my own to print, 
 at my press, "the Bishop of Rochester's Effigy," to 
 which were added some inoffensive verses that pleased 
 all parties, which sold very well. When I finished 
 what Mr. Woodfall had to do, I kept at home a little 
 while, and was sent for again, with whom I continued 
 till the banishment of the aforesaid prelate, and the 
 execution of Counsellor Layer: on whose few dying 
 words I formed observations in nature of a large speech, 
 and had a run of sale for about three days successively,
 
 Mil. THOMAS (1KNT. 141 
 
 which obliged me to keep in my own apartments, the 
 unruly hawkers being ready to pull my press in pieces 
 for the goods. After the hurry was over, I returned to 
 my master, and continuing some time, he, one morning, 
 told me that, the night before, being in the club of 
 master printers of the higher class, he laughed heartily 
 upon my account. "Pray, why so, sir!" said I; "how 
 came I to be the theme?" "Why," said he, "has not 
 that fellow, Sam Negus, put you amongst the catalogue 
 of masters, and placed you in Pye Corner?"* "It's 
 like his blunders," said I; "but how came he to print 
 such a catalogue?" "Why," replied he, "the creature, 
 who is now set up as a master himself, is not satisfied, 
 but wants to be messenger of the press ; so that he has 
 exhibited what printing houses there are in England to 
 the Secretary of State, to shew his readiness to visit 
 them, provided he is furnished with authority and pro- 
 fit; he has mentioned who he thought were of high or 
 low principles, but is sadly mistaken, for he has called 
 whigs tories, and tories whigs, as wretched in calcula- 
 
 * "GENT, Pye Corner," occurs among the printers, whom Negus 
 denominates "High Flyers." The list may be seen in "Literary 
 Anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century," vol. i. pp. 289. 312.
 
 142 THE LIFE OF 
 
 tions as Sir John Wronghead in his vote; and I'll assure 
 you, Mr. Gent, that you're amongst the tories." "Tis 
 through such a rascal as him," answered I, " that I was 
 made a state prisoner; but has he obtained his ends?" 
 "No," said Mr. Woodfall, "the Secretary, laughing at 
 the list, bantered Mr. Watts with what a hopeful com- 
 pany there was of the profession, and gave him a copy, 
 which being brought into Wild court, the men joyfully 
 put it to the press, and dispersed the paltry petition, too 
 much honoured by the names of creditable persons he 
 had traduced, throughout the members of the profes- 
 sion, that so the vile wretch might be justly exposed." 
 "He well deserved it!" thought I, and so dropt him. 
 
 Our business not being so brisk as usual, I returned 
 to my own apartments; and, joining in work with a 
 master in the Fleet, printed some small pieces on reli- 
 gion. An old schoolfellow, who had studied physic in 
 foreign parts, and really commenced doctor, John 
 Greev, M.D. having found me out, invited me to his 
 house, near the Minories. I dined with him and his 
 spouse, who had lately borne him a pretty infant: and 
 King George the First returning from Germany, I 
 printed for him this year (1724) an ode thus intituled,
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 143 
 
 "Ad Caesarem Britannicum e Germania redeuntem 
 Ode; Londini, typis Thomse Gent, in vico vulgo dicto 
 Fleet lane, pro usu Authoris, aim. 1724." After this, 
 Mr. Woodfall was so kind to recommend me to the in- 
 genious Mr. Richardson, in Salisbury court; with whom 
 I staid to finish his part of the Dictionary which he 
 had from the booksellers, composed of English, Latin, 
 Greek, and Hebrew. On my return home, I adven- 
 tured to do a book of Emblems, in duodecimo, imita- 
 ting the learned Hermanius Hugo, of the order of the 
 Holy Jesus; and Mr. Hotham, on London bridge, being 
 partner, we ventured to print off a thousand, which, at 
 this time, seem to be near sold off. This, I think, was 
 the last work 1 did of any great consequence in London: 
 and, having little to do at home, I wrought in the 
 house of Mrs. Susannah Collins, an ancient gentle- 
 woman, who lived near me, in Black and White Court, 
 in the Old Bailey. For some weeks, 1 lived in great 
 felicity, for I found the art of gaining her temper. She 
 had a wicked son, called Master John, who, contracting 
 debts by his extravagant living, was thrown into the 
 Counter: she, good gentlewoman, forgetting how he 
 once sued her for some legacy, almost to an excommu-
 
 144 THE LIFE OF 
 
 nication, had pity for him, who had not the least regard 
 for her. She gave me money to release him, which, 
 with some difficulty, I did, from that close prison ; and 
 took the loathsome wretch from his filthy bed on the 
 ground, in a coach with me home. It was great Pro- 
 vidence that, in the unpleasant action, I became not 
 smitten with the jail distemper that he was then af- 
 flicted with; considering that, a little afterwards, it fell 
 to his aged mother's lot, and then a wicked maid- 
 servant took opportunity to make off with some of her 
 riches, and particularly a gold repeating watch, with all 
 the costly trinkets about it; but, whilst sailing in a 
 boat, towards Gravesend, the striking thereof alarmed 
 a gentleman that was therein, who, perceiving her 
 person nor habit to agree with so rich a prize, com- 
 manded the boatman to land near the next town, 
 carried her before a justice, to whom she confessed 
 the whole matter, was, by habeas corpus, brought to 
 Newgate, at the sessions received condemnation to 
 death, but through the goodness of her mistress, lan- 
 guishing on her death-bed, she was sent beyond the 
 sea; after which, Madam Collins departed this mortal 
 life, it was on Sunday the 2d of June'; and about two
 
 Mil. THOMAS GENT. 145 
 
 days after, was interred in the west end of St. Sepul- 
 chre's church, near the north isle ; I believe, near the 
 body of the deputy of the ward, her once affectionate 
 husband. The executors continued me in their service, 
 at twenty shillings per week, in bringing the materials 
 from their confused condition, and helping to weigh the 
 letters, in order to make a division of the substance 
 amongst them, and cease their jarring disagreements. 
 After which, I was paid very honestly, and honourably 
 discharged, which set me once more at liberty, either to 
 contrive business in my own habitation, or else to work 
 as a journeyman with others. 
 
 And now it happened, that the widow of the late 
 Mr. Dodd, who had desired, on his death-bed, to get 
 me to assist her whenever opportunity served, wanted a 
 person to manage her printing business. Mr. Richard 
 Purser, whom I used to employ, informed me of it; and 
 that she was willing to allow what others had given me. 
 Indeed, I had formed an intention to dispose of my 
 materials, since I was disappointed of my first love; 
 and, therefore, was more willing to enter into the ser- 
 vice of this gentlewoman. Accordingly, I made my 
 application, to which she readily consented. I found
 
 146 THE LIFE OF 
 
 the printing office in great confusion; but, by hard 
 working, convinced her that she did not part with her 
 money in vain. Indeed, she was a most agreeable per- 
 son, and I thought her worthy of the best of spouses : 
 for, sure, there never could be a finer economist, or 
 sweeter mother to her dear children, whom she kept 
 exceedingly decent. I have dined with her, but then, 
 as in reason, I allowed what was fitting for my meals; 
 and her conversation, agreeably to her fine education, 
 almost wounded me with love, and, at the same time, 
 commanded a becoming reverence. What made her 
 excellent carriage the more endearing was, that I now 
 must never expect to behold my first love at York; 
 though I heard, by travellers, that not only she, but 
 her husband used to inquire after me. Indeed, I was 
 sensible that Mr. Bourne, though a likely young man, 
 was not one of the most healthful persons, but far 
 from imagining otherwise than that he might have out- 
 lived me, who then was worn almost to a shadow. 
 But see the wonderful effects of Divine Providence in 
 all things ! 
 
 It was one Sunday morning that Mr. Philip Wood, 
 a quondam partner at Mr. Midwinter's, entering my
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 147 
 
 chambers, where I sometimes used to employ him too, 
 when slack of business in other places, "Tommy," said 
 he, " all these fine materials of yours must be moved to 
 York:" at which, wondering, "What mean you?" said I. 
 "Aye," said he, "and you must go too, without it's your 
 own fault; for your first sweetheart is now at liberty, 
 and left in good circumstances by her dear spouse, who 
 deceased but of late." "I pray heaven/' answered I 
 "that his precious soul may be happy; and, for aught 
 I know, it may be as you say, for indeed I think I 
 may not trifle with a widow, as I have formerly done 
 with a maid." I made an excuse to my mistress, that 
 I had business in Ireland, but that I hoped to be at my 
 own lodgings in about a month's time; if not, as I had 
 placed every thing in order, she might easily, by any 
 other person, carry on the business. But she said, she 
 would not have any beside me in that station I enjoyed; 
 and, therefore, should expect my return to her again: 
 but, respectfully taking leave, I never beheld her after, 
 though, I heard, she was after very indifferently mar- 
 ried. I had taken care that my goods should be pri- 
 vately packed up, and hired a little warehouse to put 
 them in, ready to be sent, by sea or land, to where I 
 
 L2
 
 148 THE LIFE OF 
 
 should order; and I pitched upon Mr. Campbell, my 
 fellow-traveller, as my confidant in this affair, desiring 
 my cousins to assist him; all of whom I took leave of at 
 the Black Swan in Holborn, where I had paid my 
 passage, in the stage-coach, which brought me to York 
 in four days' time. Here I found my dearest once 
 more, though much altered to what she was about ten 
 years before, that I had not seen her: there was no 
 need for new courtship; but decency suspended the 
 ceremony of marriage for some time. I wrote to her 
 uncle, Mr. White, at Newcastle; but he, having more 
 his own interest at heart than our good, not only was 
 very much against us, but did all that was in his power 
 to keep us asunder: however, acquainting my parents 
 with my design, they did not think fit to contradict my 
 inclinations, but sent me their blessing. My goods 
 being safely arrived from London, added greatly to the 
 former printing house; but very bad servants occasioned 
 great uneasiness to me. However, I continued peace- 
 able against all opposition of her uncle, or those who 
 unjustly cast reflections upon my being a stranger; till 
 my dearest, at length, considering the ill consequences 
 of delay in her business, as well as the former ties of
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 149 
 
 love that passed innocently between us, by word and 
 writing, gave full consent to have the nuptials cele- 
 brated, which were performed that very day of the late 
 Archbishop's* installation, by the Rev. Mr. Knight, 
 being the 10th of December, in the stately cathedral, 
 dedicated to St. Peter. 
 
 * Launcelot Blackburne, D.D. formerly Bishop of Exeter. T. G.
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 THE learned Bishop Pearson has given a rhetorical 
 abridgment of the life of man, from the time of weaning 
 till under the rigid discipline of the rod, either by pa- 
 rents at home, or teachers in the schools; and might 
 have added, the often too severe usage in long appren- 
 ticeships ; above which, he ascends to that of a master, 
 whom he wittily styles but as a servant-general to his 
 family: an office full of trouble, not to mention all 
 those griefs that accompany us besides, through the 
 strange vicissitudes that attend it, intermingled espe- 
 cially with the most serious thoughts of futurity, ac- 
 cording as we do our duty. 
 
 From the late condition of a servant, was I changed 
 to be a master ! from a citi/en of London, so much es- 
 teemed for urbanity, was become, through the virtue of 
 twenty-seven pounds, the like at York ; but over such 
 servants that, becoming reluctant to my new authority, 
 gave me exceeding great trouble in my proceedings, as
 
 152 THE LIFE OF 
 
 they had done before to their too kind mistress, by 
 neglect, in the time of her widowhood. What con- 
 
 O ' 
 
 cerned me too was, that I found her temper much al- 
 tered from that sweet natural softness, and most tender 
 affection, that rendered her so amiable to me while I 
 was more juvenile, and she a maiden. Not less sin- 
 cere, I must own, but with that presumptive air and 
 conceited opinion, like Mrs. Day, in the play of "The 
 Committee," that made me imagine an epidemical dis- 
 temper reigned among the good women, which too often 
 unreasonably prevailed, even to ruin themselves and 
 families, or if prevented by Divine Providence, fre- 
 quently proved the sad cause of great contention and 
 disquietude. However, as I knew I was but then a 
 novice in the intricate laws of matrimony, and that 
 nothing but a thorough annihilation can disentangle or 
 break that chain which oft produces a strange concate- 
 nation for future disorders, I endeavoured to comply 
 with a sort of stoical resolution, to some very harsh 
 rules that, otherwise, would have grated my human 
 understanding. For as, by this change, I had given a 
 voluntary wound to my wonted liberty, now attacked 
 in the maintenance partly of pretended friends, spunging
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 153 
 
 parasites, and flatterers, who imposed on goodnature 
 to our great damage; so, in this conjugal captivity, as 
 I may term it, I was fully resolved, likewise in a Chris- 
 tian sense, to make my yoke as easy as possible, thereby 
 to give no offence to custom or law of any kind. The 
 tender affection that a good husband naturally has to 
 the wife of his bosom is such, as to make him often 
 pass by the greatest insults that can be offered to hu- 
 man nature: such, I mean, are the senseless provoking 
 arguments that can be used by the latter against the 
 interest of the former, who is mostly concerned in de- 
 fence for her safety, who will not be awoke from de- 
 lusion till poverty appears, shews the ingratitude of 
 false friends in prosperity, and brings her to sad re- 
 pentance in adversity: she then will wish she had 
 been foreseeing as her husband, when it is too late; 
 condemn her foolish credulity, and abhor those who 
 have caused her to differ from the sentiments of her 
 truest friend, whose days she has embittered with the 
 most undutiful aggravations, to render every thing un- 
 comfortable to him. 
 
 My dear's uncle, White, as he called himself, kept 
 a printing office at Newcastle-on-Tyne, where, having
 
 154 THE LIFE OK 
 
 had no opposer, he heaped up riches in abundance ; and 
 yet so greedy of more, that, before our marriage, he 
 offered my dear, his niece, fifty pounds a year to re- 
 sign the materials and all that she was worth in stock 
 to his management. The wretch (for so I call him) 
 was formerly so much mistrusted by his own father, 
 that he would not trust my predecessor to his proffered 
 courtesy, but provided for him in his will : so obnox- 
 ious to his mother-in-law, Mrs. White, that she left him 
 but little, or next to nothing; so disregarded by his 
 nephew, that my dear could scarcely, through her good- 
 nature, prevail with him, whilst dying, to bequeath him 
 his watch, cane, and about seven guineas, which she 
 thought, perhaps, might induce him to future kindness 
 towards her; but she ungratefully found the contrary, 
 and had better reason to have kept it. He had done 
 all he could to prevent our marriage, and breathed 
 forth little else than the most destructive opposition 
 against us; giving, as it were, a sanction to his malice, 
 that what he intended was truly for the good of his 
 family, which every honest man ought to regard antece- 
 dently superior to all other motives; that nieceship 
 was now inconsistent with his interest: and told me
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 155 
 
 plainly, that he would oppose me in all my doings to 
 the veiy utmost of his power: though I had made it 
 plainly appear that he need not esteem me so contempt- 
 ible a person as he did, being sprung from reputable 
 people, was a citizen of several cities, that I was not 
 only free from debt but, by my great industry, had 
 cleared about two hundred pounds. But what I said 
 was disregarded; and nothing but a melancholy pros- 
 pect of future diskindnesses was placed before my eyes ; 
 though my circumstances, I think, were as good as 
 those of his niece, my spouse, who had a house, indeed, 
 that eastward, next the bookseller's in Stonegate, held 
 very precariously; which was, very unhappily, in the 
 year 1723, the remainder of a prebendal lease, in the 
 possession of Joseph Leach, a singing man, maker of 
 starch, and sheriff of this city ; which cost above two 
 hundred pounds, (I think two hundred and two pounds 
 ten shillings,) which was daily in danger of being lost, 
 through the falling lives of people, whose names had 
 been long inserted therein. An hundred pounds was 
 borrowed of Francis Barrowby, an attorney, who drew 
 the deeds, and who proved himself either fool or knave, 
 or both, in promoting such a bargain; because, being
 
 156 THE LIFE OF 
 
 prevented in the renewal, there was great danger of 
 losing the whole in a little time; and did not get what 
 was laid out during the fifteen years, &c. it was enjoyed, 
 the interest of which would have yielded about one 
 hundred and fifty pounds, and their principal secured ; 
 not to mention the various repairs, which cost conside- 
 rable sums, and the disappointment of dwelling therein, 
 to be freed from those wicked landladies that endea- 
 voured to distress them by raising their rents. 
 
 Here I found a newspaper printed, but utterly spoiled 
 by being compiled by a mean-spirited, self-conceited 
 Quaker, whom I discharged ; but who had the wicked 
 conscience to extort from me for half a year's service that 
 way, pretending an engagement for it, though I per- 
 formed the labour; and afterwards proved but a very 
 sorry friend, if not an enemy. The servants, who were 
 most ungovernable before our marriage, proved but 
 very little better after, though I used them with the 
 greatest lenity ; they loitered away the time, were quite 
 idle in my absence, and betrayed their malignity by 
 bitter aspersions, so unworthy to many of our London 
 youth, that I became sorry almost to death that I was 
 ever placed over such incorrigible wretches.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 157 
 
 1725. My dear parents, who approved of my mar- 
 riage, growing very ancient, desired once more to see 
 me, and to deliver into my own hands what money I 
 had intrusted them with. I yielded to their desire, 
 with the consent of my spouse, who was pretty far 
 gone with child; and, riding to Liverpool, I could find 
 no ship but one, bound for Ireland, a little vessel, com- 
 manded by a native of Portugal, who had no other 
 hands but those of a French lad, his apprentice, and 
 another tolerable sailor ; in a vessel very tight, but too 
 little and unfit, as she was heavy laden with earthen- 
 ware, for those troublesome seas. However, we sailed 
 pretty well the first day; and, at night, I was mightily 
 taken with the harmonious voice of the French lad, 
 who was guiding the helm, and singing really as de- 
 lightfully as the poets have feigned of the melodious 
 syrens of the Sicilian seas. The next day, as we ap- 
 proached nearer the Hill of Houth, a storm arose, which 
 put us in exceeding danger, for want of sufficient num- 
 ber of sailors. The captain feeling a terrible squall of 
 wind, as he called it, said he, "if such another comes 
 quickly, we shall be all overturned and lost!" and a 
 little after, he called to us under deck to prepare for
 
 158 THE LIFE OF 
 
 death. This caused tears to trickle down some of our 
 cheeks; for, indeed, the ship so terribly rolled, with such 
 violence, from one side to the other, and the waters 
 dashing in so fast, that we were more terrified every 
 moment with fear of being overwhelmed. 
 
 The passengers, beside me, were two women, one of 
 them a Quaker, and a youth from Yorkshire, who said 
 his intention was to apply for a gentleman's service. 
 "Captain," said I, "don't despair, in God's name, and 
 I'll help you as long as I am able." I got up, and 
 did so hard labour at the pump, that I was in a lather 
 with sweat, and frequently nigh covered with the waves. 
 At length, being near spent, I besought some of them 
 to call the young man, to ease me a little; but they 
 told me he was very sick in the bed, and could not 
 rise, nor would he lay down his beads, but resolved to 
 continue earnest in his devotions to the last: upon 
 which, taking breath, I reassumed my late post, till 
 my hands were piteously blistered ; but, unwilling to be 
 washed away, I was resolved that the ship should 
 serve for my coffin as well as others. As I was de- 
 scending, the good woman who owned the earthenware, 
 desired me to have them thrown overboard, that our
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 159 
 
 lives might be saved; but we, more profitably for her, 
 judged otherwise; and at last, our distress being es- 
 pied from afar, some skilful pilots came, in a large boat, 
 to our relief. We then cast anchor, as they directed; 
 drank a cheeruping glass, congratulated each other on 
 our happy deliverance, rallied the captain for his 
 timidity, and patiently heard the good Quaker woman 
 deliver such a sermon as made us conclude she was 
 filled with inspiration. 
 
 Thus pleasantly we continued, till the tide began to 
 flow towards the shore. " Captain," said the pilot, " had 
 you persisted whilst the tide was against you, an hun- 
 dred to one but, as night came on, you would have 
 certainly been lost, not knowing where to cast anchor; 
 but now, I thank God, you are safe for this voyage. 
 I suppose you was never on this coast before; and I am 
 very glad that it was my fortune to help a stranger." 
 Then we sweetly sailed into the bay; and, entering 
 into a large river, walled north and south, we viewed 
 the pleasant town of Ringsend ; and, soon after, landed 
 upon Aston's Key, from whence, once more, [ visited 
 the house of my parents. I was invited to lodge at 
 my rich sister Standish'?, but not thinking to leave
 
 160 THE LIFE OF 
 
 my dear father and mother while I stayed, I had a bed 
 spread on the floor, near beside them. Besides this, 
 as I heard that death had removed my beautiful fair 
 niece, Anne Standish, I was less mindful of visiting 
 the family ; though I paid them all other respect that 
 could be expected, and was acceptable to my nephew, 
 who belonged to Trinity College, and is now a clergy- 
 man in the north of Ireland. My mother I found lan- 
 guishing upon her death-bed, and my poor father but 
 in a weak condition ; but what added to my grief was, 
 that they were surrounded, as it were, by my sister 
 Clark's unruly children. I continued with them about 
 a fortnight, in which time I bought a quantity of linen 
 cloth, as thinking it the best commodity I could dispose 
 of in England. 
 
 Whilst I was thus employed, I received a letter from 
 my spouse, that her villanous uncle being come again 
 from Newcastle, was setting up, against us, a printing 
 office, with one Robert Ward ; and, therefore, she de- 
 sired my quick return. I was then truly amazed at the 
 knave's treachery, who, not long before, had desired my 
 correspondence as a relation; which being granted, 
 caused him, in writing, to approve of my dutiful
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 161 
 
 behaviour. I now perceived, as it were, that the axe was laid 
 to the root of ray tree of life, to fell it down ; or, at least, 
 a wedge was driven that in time, by continued strokes, 
 might split our needy affairs into pieces. I took ship- 
 ping as soon as possible; but, while my goods were 
 putting into stowage, I was much insulted, in a public 
 house on the quay, by one Taylor, a pragmatic, drunken, 
 and quarrelsome tinner, without any occasion, for which 
 God forgive him. I entered into a far better ship than 
 before; the master a stout comely man, and furnished 
 with able sailors. Our voyage was very pleasant till 
 we reached High Lake; and being, by stress of wea- 
 ther, obliged to anchor against the town, a seizure was 
 made of some brandy, by the hard-hearted officer, who 
 took even what belonged to the poor apprentices, 
 whose tears at that sad parting could not cause in him 
 the least remorse of conscience. But at Liverpool we 
 met with kinder usage ; where I was very fortunate in 
 getting my goods despatched away by the carrier, who 
 was just setting out for York, and left me a brave strong 
 horse to ride home at pleasure. 
 
 I had not rode above a few miles from the town but, 
 overtaking a good looking countryman, and falling into 
 
 M
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 discourse, I asked him what news was stirring ? who an- 
 swered "Sir, I know of nothing more or greater than 
 that, this day, (November 3d, 1725), is to be hanged 
 the greatest rogue in England, called Jonathan Wild." 
 I had seen that thiefcatcher several times about the 
 Old Bailey in London; and particularly took notice of 
 him when he rode triumphantly, with pistols before the 
 criminals, whilst conveying to the place of execution ; I 
 hated him, because John Monk, my fellow apprentice, 
 was seduced to become in his book, whom, peradven- 
 ture, he would have hanged also, if a violent fever had 
 not sent him to Islington Church-yard, to the alternate 
 grief and joy of his aged father, as I have mentioned 
 in the first part of my life. I thought the just judg- 
 ment of the vindictive hand of fate was fallen upon the 
 guilty wretch, so characterised in the Beggar's Opera, 
 by the name of Informing Peachum, which will remain 
 indelible to future ages; and I heard he was pelted by 
 the populace to the place of execution : so those fleaing 
 rascals, the surgeons, as the same piece styles them, 
 stole his corpse from its grave, in St. Pancras's church- 
 yard, in which sacred ground it seemed unfit he should 
 be interred amongst many noble and pious personages.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 163 
 
 The next day I continued my journey so briskly that, 
 about twelve o'clock at night, I arrived at rny house in 
 York, to the great joy of my spouse, who told me that 
 her barbarous uncle had dined with her in my absence ; 
 which shewed the fellow was a perfect compound of 
 nonsense, villainy, hypocrisy, and impudence. His full 
 malice appeared a little after, for he actually joined 
 with the aforesaid Ward, who had been his father's 
 footboy, but, having married a wife with a fortune, had 
 bought a press, with other materials, in order to set up 
 a master printer. They published a newspaper, which 
 whilst they cried up, almost in the same breath they 
 ran down mine with that eager bitterness of spirit which 
 they had instilled into them, in which they were assisted 
 by a relation, brother to his wife, with such a strange 
 phiz, by a piked nose, fallen mouth, and projecting 
 chin, that had he been likewise graced with a tail, 
 would have made as complete a monkey as Asia, Africa, 
 or America, nay, the whole world could produce. 
 
 His business was to go to the houses of my custom- 
 ers, and substituting his papers in the room of what I 
 sent; and the prices of goods were lowered by one third, 
 supposing their riches in Newcastle would support them 
 
 M2
 
 164 THE LIFE OF 
 
 through all expences, whilst they endeavoured to ruin 
 me at York. A melancholy reflection, to find that my 
 marriage had made me as criminal as a person guilty of 
 the greatest demerits; and that nothing appeared but a 
 gloomy prospect of rage and power I was to struggle 
 with, in order to preserve me and mine from seeming 
 destruction ! What a vast disparity was now from my 
 former condition ! in London, enjoying plenty of busi- 
 ness, and beloved by the best ; oppressed in York, and, 
 as it were, prosecuted by a tyrannical villain; and that, 
 too, after I had paid for a freedom, in order for a set- 
 tlement, to be turned out, with scorn, as the worst of 
 vagabonds ! and this, too, by wretches that were infe- 
 rior to me, as have been since proved in various res- 
 pects, as have been apparent to the world. But it was 
 not long before his partner, Ward, failed for debt; and 
 was glad to become my journeyman, whom I screened, 
 though he had threatened my ruin. 
 
 On Sunday the 10th of October, 1725, my dear 
 spouse was happily brought to bed of a son, whom I 
 had gotten privately baptized Charles, by the Rev. Mr. 
 Dingley, and publicly, in the cathedral, by the Rev. 
 Mr. Knight, at the font which then stood at the west
 
 MU. THOMAS GENT. 165 
 
 end of the nave, near the venerable remains of Arch- 
 bishop Melton. Mr. Lambert, a gentleman of the spi- 
 ritual court, and Mr. Dowbiggin, schoolmaster, of 
 Thornton, near Pickering, were godfathers; though one 
 Mr. Bateman, another schoolmaster, stood for the latter, 
 by proxy. It proved a beautiful child as possibly our 
 eyes could have beheld ; but, unhappily, was taken with 
 convulsion fits. One Sunday, in particular, as just 
 going to eat our dinner, (to which Mr. Ward and his 
 wife were invited,) the child was suddenly taken, and 
 turned as black as ebony itself; but, on its recovery, like 
 the sun appearing through a cloud, all the charms of 
 infant loveliness returned, and the features of an angel, 
 which he was soon to be, resumed their wonted place 
 in his amiable countenance. The Sunday following, 
 having such another fit, all the assistance possible was 
 administered on so mournful an occasion. I wished for 
 its life, and yet I scarce knew well why; I was not 
 very sorry to think of its death, considering what it 
 might have been exposed to, through oppression of its 
 woful parents by the villain aforesaid, who was plot- 
 ting our ruin to his utmost power, as that of his partner, 
 my journeyman, Ward; whom I took, on horseback,
 
 166 THE LIFE OF 
 
 August 19th, 1726, privately behind me to Hull, where 
 I saw him on board a ship riding in the H umber. 
 
 A servant of mine, being corrupted to print an un- 
 stamped newspaper, one that had been stamped was 
 taken from a customer's house, and the spurious one 
 put into its place; of which, information was made to 
 William Thompson, esq. that I had acted contrary to 
 act of parliament, and incurred a penalty of fifty 
 pounds. A search was made after more of them, but 
 they were found stamped; yet I was sent for, and, 
 knowing my innocence, my just anger rose in propor- 
 tion to my sudden surprise. Mr. Carty, the lord 
 mayor's clerk, perceiving me abused, examined the mat- 
 ter with the greatest scrutiny; and, on stamped paper, 
 the following testimonials were exhibited: 
 
 William Bradley, apprentice to Thomas Gent, of the city of York, 
 printer; John Macferson and William Nost, printers and journeymen 
 to the said Thomas Gent; and Mary Pybus, spinster, his servant; jointly 
 and severally make oath : and, first, the said William Bradley and John 
 Macferson, for themselves, say and depose that they were servants to, 
 and lived in the house of, the said Mr. Gent, some considerable time 
 before he received the instructions from the Stamp office, to print his 
 news upon stamped paper; and that, since his receiving the said in-
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 167 
 
 structions or orders, he was very exact, not only as to himself, but 
 also in giving these deponents frequent orders and strict charge to 
 yield all due obedience to the said instructions, by printing the news 
 upon stamped paper. And, accordingly, these deponents never printed 
 any newspapers for the said Thomas Gent, to be sold or published, 
 but what were duly stamped according to the directions contained in 
 the said instructions. Neither did he himself print or publish any 
 news, to the privity or knowledge of these deponents, but what were 
 duly stamped, as aforesaid. 
 
 And this deponent, William Nost, deposeth that, since his entering 
 upon the said Mr. Gent's service, he has observed the said Mr. Gent's 
 singular care and vigilance was very extraordinary, lest that any news 
 should pass the press unstamped, and his frequent giving directions, as 
 aforesaid. 
 
 And this deponent, Mary Pybus, heard her said master, Mr. Gent, 
 frequently repeat his directions concerning the said news, as aforesaid ; 
 so great was his care in relation to the stamping of them : from all 
 which, all these deponents, William Bradley, John Macferson, 
 William Nost, and Mary Pybus, verily and sincerely believe that the 
 said Mr. Gent never printed any news other than upon stamped paper 
 since he received the foregoing instructions ; and that he never de- 
 frauded, or intended to defraud his majesty of any part of the said, 
 duty; and that if a single sheet escaped, or came out of the press un- 
 stamped, it was intended for a proof sheet, and for no other use; and 
 that if any such sheet came out of the printing house, it proceeded 
 from the indiscretion of some of the servants at the press; who, through
 
 168 THE LIFE OF 
 
 inadvertency, may carry the same in their pockets, when useless to Mr. 
 Gent. And the deponent John Macferson, saith that he hath frequently 
 carried such sheets in his pocket, with no other view than to light a 
 pipe of tobacco ; and that one night, meeting with Telpha, servant to 
 Mr. John White, printer, he believes he gave him one of the said 
 proof sheets, or other sheet, which this deponent printed for his own 
 use, to keep for the use aforesaid, or to dispose of it as he thought fit, 
 a thing too common with journeymen. 
 
 By this it very plainly appears that Scotch Mac- 
 pherson, my journeyman, printed the paper unstamped, 
 unknown to me, and gave it to Telpha, the Scot, 
 White's journeyman. The two latter, the alehouse 
 woman Mrs. Reynoldson told me, came to her house, 
 and White asked for their newspaper, and privately 
 changed the unstamped one for it ; no doubt burning 
 the right one, and making an information with what 
 was as false as themselves were villainous. 
 
 White denied his having an hand in it; but Mr. 
 Thompson told me, it was from one that was related to 
 me, and yet my greatest enemy ! And who could this 
 be but White? in which, if he had proceeded, I might 
 have brought the fellow's ears to prove my innocence, 
 who thought to have forced me to London, before the
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 169 
 
 commissioners. Such almost nefandous usage, stirred 
 up Mr. Carty to write the following paragraph of my 
 vindication, in the news, which I thus exactly transcribe. 
 
 YORK, Feb. 6th, 1725. From an attempt lately made upon me, I 
 think myself obliged to beg my pardon and attention whilst I inform 
 them of the misfortune which I am now likely to labour under; and 
 which, I hope, may be applied by them severally, in some degree, to 
 a favorable^sense of me. Since I came into this city, I do not know 
 any person I have offended in word or deed; and such was, and still 
 shall be my desire and inclination to preserve and keep myself free 
 from offence. Yet one dangerous and designing enemy unjustly en- 
 deavours, as much as possible, to circumvent me in my business, and 
 transplant me from my place of settlement. And his efforts herein, 
 not subsisting altogether with his emulation, he had recourse to an 
 imaginary and]more powerful frightful remedy, to terrify me with the 
 approaching or ensuing fatal effects of it ; and, consequently, make me 
 fly, and thereby gain his ends. And in order to this, has been very 
 dexterous and artful in the contrivance of his malicious and precon- 
 certed design, by charging me with an information of having defrauded 
 his majesty of a duty of one halfpenny, imposed by Parliament upon 
 the single newspapers, or mercuries, sold and published by me; and 
 this, with a view of drawing upon me the displeasure of the govern- 
 ment, and subject me thereby, to the penalty of fifty pounds, limited 
 by Act of Parliament, for such fraud. I must, therefore, acquaint my 
 readers and the public that, since the prohibition I received in this
 
 170 THE LIFE OF 
 
 behalf, I have complied, and still shall comply, with the tencur and 
 meaning of the Act aforesaid; so as not to print, or direct to be printed, 
 or knowingly suffered or permitted to be printed, or sold, or received 
 money for, or published any newspapers since the receipt of the pro- 
 hibition above mentioned, any other than what were duly stamped, ac- 
 cording to the meaning of the said Act. 
 
 And for the truth whereof, I appeal to Heaven, and to the persons 
 who are pleased to favour me with their custom, and who, when the ways 
 by tempestuous storms, were rendered unpassable, were deprived of 
 being supplied with the news by me, for want of stamps being brought 
 to me, according to my expectation, as well as the deposition of my 
 servants and journeymen, taken before a proper person, reciting my 
 constant charge and direction to them, from time to time, to be cau- 
 tious and exact not to print any news but upon stamps; and which 
 they have sworn they have accordingly. And yet, after all this, my 
 designing adversary, has found a single sheet unstamped at a public- 
 house, as he says, which may be a proof sheet, carried by one of my 
 servants, inadvertently, in his pocket; or, by chance, misplaced; or, by 
 corruption, obtained by him; which could not be very difficult, when 
 the integrity of servants is not altogether to be relied on in this age. 
 And thus is the thunderingbolt of his prosecution founded and ba- 
 lanced. And as none but my adversary, who by the foregoing matter, 
 may be easily guessed, and hereafter shall be fully known in due time, 
 could discern or find out this fraudulent contrivance of mine; I hope 
 his judicious observation will furnish him with better reasons, and ar- 
 guments more prevalent, than his quickening spirit of spleen and ma-
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 171 
 
 lice can suggest to justify him. From what has been said, I hope it 
 will appear that the ruin of me, my wife, and family, is the only scope 
 and design aimed at by this information; all his other underhand means 
 proving weak and abortive. 
 
 Lastly, I humbly beseech my readers, to prevent this designing 
 man's gaining more of his ends over me, to secure the person who shall 
 bring, sell, or publish any news unstamped in my name; and that he, 
 my said adversary, would seriously consider how every honest man 
 will censure him for endeavouring to force an innocent person from 
 his spouse and family by such unaccountable ways, and unchristian 
 proceedings. 
 
 p.s. Any other might, notwithstanding the utmost precaution, be 
 made liable to the same unhappiness in the like manner and occasion. 
 
 Thus concluded Mr. Carty's kindness for me. 
 
 But, afterwards, I found Macpherson a corrupted vil- 
 lain to others; and well, by a perverse rascal, might be 
 made a rogue. For he was hired by Woodhouse, a 
 bailiff, to betray his fellow-servant, Ward, into his 
 clutches; for which he was obliged to run away from 
 my service, with fiddlers and pipers, before I returned 
 from Hull, fearing my just resentment for his knavery, 
 August 1726. 
 
 I would not have made this digression, were it not to
 
 172 THE LIFE OF 
 
 lay open the cruelty of our barbarous uncle, who yet 
 had some periodical fits of goodness, in considering 
 what he had done to us, when too late to be recalled. 
 
 One time he vouchsafed to visit the nurse, gave her a 
 shilling, and blessed my child, who, he said, was a 
 lovely creature. But, alas ! better had it been for his 
 interest and ours, that he had not commenced so great 
 an enemy. The child having its continuance of fits, 
 my spouse caused the nurse to bring it home; but its 
 cries and sighs being so piercing to our souls, she re- 
 turned with him to her house. 
 
 The last fit came on it on the 12th of March, 1725, 
 just as it was fully dressed in its perfect beauty, which 
 overcame that sable colour that was wont to shade its 
 lovely countenance in those terrible attacks; but then 
 it was conquered by death, who left its body in so sweet 
 a condition, that any spectator might have imagined it 
 an angel asleep, newly arrived in this transitory world. 
 It only gave a sigh, as the nurse told me, and then 
 parted for ever. 
 
 I paid the church funeral expenses to that covetous 
 priest Bradley, who did nothing for it, though I buried 
 its pretty corpse in the church of St. Michael le
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 173 
 
 Belfrey; where it was laid, on the breast of Mr. Charles 
 Bourne, my predecessor, in the chancel on the south 
 side of the altar. 
 
 I continued, though without profit, but rather lost, 
 to print the news, that our adversaries should not sud- 
 denly triumph over us. 
 
 1726. In these times, I printed some books learnedly 
 translated into English by Mr. John Clarke, school- 
 master, in Hull; the columns of the two languages 
 being opposite one to the other, for the greater ease of 
 young tyros in learning, as well as those who had ob- 
 tained some indifferent proficiency therein. Two edi- 
 tions I did of Erasmus. To my journeyman I had 
 Mr. Whitburne Wells, nephew to the celebrated doctor 
 in divinity of that surname, who wrote a book in geo- 
 graphy, in Greek and Latin; but having no goodwill 
 to his kinsman, he listed in the army, where his merit 
 and wit obtained him the honour of being a serjeant at 
 Gibraltar. Another journeyman was John Brooker, 
 originally from Ireland ; little better, when mellow, than 
 a lunatic, and, quite drunk, a perfect madman. Ano- 
 ther was called Thomas Dickenson, a sort of interloper, 
 but a good workman, considering his lameness; saucy, 
 sly, conceited, and very offensive when there was no
 
 174 THE LIFE OF 
 
 other occasion, but only requiring him to be cleanly, 
 and not offensive to others by his rubbish, which his 
 unreasonable covetousness would not allow time to make 
 away. He had been long in Scotland, where he mar- 
 ried; became a stroller; was sent from constable to 
 constable, to Belfrey's parish; afterwards wrought 
 at Doncaster with Mr. Ward; and, at length, died 
 in or near London. I had also for my journeyman, 
 Mr. Pattison, a goodnatured, honest Scot, the best that 
 ever I knew of the sort; and Smith, of the same coun- 
 try, but I think as false a loon as ever came out of it. 
 I was often grieved that my necessity should oblige me 
 to employ some of those ungrateful vermin, and others, 
 particularly one Jackson, a mean senseless wretch, to 
 whom yet I gave the best London prices. 
 
 1728. The opposition continuing still against me by 
 our unmerciful uncle, I was obliged to contrive some 
 business, rather than go back in the world ; and, by an 
 almost unheard of attempt, to seek a living by recalling 
 the dead, as it were, to life, to afford me and mine that 
 sustenance which the living seemed to deny me. The 
 thought sprung from some curiosities that I had found, 
 and by what I was likely to procure, relating to the 
 antiquities of York. My resolution became so rivetted
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 175 
 
 in me, and being spurred on by necessity, that I pub- 
 lished the proposals of my design in the year 1729. It 
 was very far from real pleasure when I heard that some 
 people had scrupled my real ability, and that others 
 feared to trust me with the subscription money. I was 
 one time, I believe, for half an hoar, very indecently 
 abused at a merry meeting, by a fellow who reflected on 
 Mr. Gent, as he called me, though he knew not I was 
 the very person he was talking to ; and should, for me, 
 have continued ignorant, through my innocent nature, 
 if one of the company, who had suffered him to prate 
 a long while, could bear no longer, but discovering his 
 mistake, called him a blockhead for his vile impru- 
 dence; and obliged him to leave the place. But what 
 most of all astonished me was the usage of old Hildyard, 
 a neighbouring bookseller, who sent to my shop his 
 then simple son John, to tell me that, if I printed any 
 thing relating to the city, he would sue me in an action 
 of two thousand pounds damages. I asked why, and 
 for what ? The silly fellow told me that his father had 
 printed a book of the mayors and sheriffs of York al- 
 ready, and would have no other to be done. So had 
 the impudence to mark out those periods of my propo-
 
 176 THE LIFE OF 
 
 sals that had given him offence, by clashing against his 
 interest. This put me upon viewing that book; and, 
 upon inquiry, I found that his production was mere 
 theft from a lawyer's copy, only with an addition of a 
 fulsome dedication or two, as much for instruction to 
 the readers, as the almost bare catalogue of names it 
 contained. Upon which, being provoked a second time 
 by the said simple coxcomb, I returned word to the old 
 fellow that, if I copied after such a wretched thread- 
 bare piece, he might arrest me if he pleased ; so turned 
 the blockhead out of my house. I still went on and 
 received subscription money, though my timorous 
 spouse, for some time, would have had me desisted, be- 
 cause the old man was powerfully rich ; and, beside, had 
 stood as a father when we were married. Thus was I 
 tormented with her whimpering note of, perhaps, sincere 
 love, on the one hand, and on the other, with reproaches 
 and threatenings, which were all counterbalanced with 
 the merry subscribers that displayed their goodness 
 on my pious design. As a grateful recompence, I took, 
 indeed, great pains in every church, having many of 
 the sepulchral monuments washed and cleansed, to 
 come as perfectly as I could to the characters; many of
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 177 
 
 which were almost delible, and diurnally conveyed them 
 to my press. It so happened that Lord Percival and 
 Mr. Scawen, viewing the antiquities of the Minster, 
 were informed by Mr. Moon, the verger, what I was 
 upon; and that it was a great pity if my generous pro- 
 posals did not meet that encouragement that was due 
 to so worthy an undertaking. And who should they 
 inquire of me, but of old Mr. Hildyavd, where I lived, 
 that they might subscribe! Unquestionably a great 
 mortification to him, who had thus insulted me, a citi- 
 zen as good as himself; and who should he send with 
 them but the empty-brained, puffing, puppy-like fellow 
 his son, to shew them the way, and to examine what I 
 had collected for that purpose. And though all seemed 
 in embryo, by the many divided pieces and interlinea- 
 tions of what I had written, they were pleased to give 
 my price for six books; and promised, if I enlarged 
 more than I then intended, they would reward me in 
 proportion to my industry. While I was upon the 
 work, Hammond, the quacking bookseller, who reported 
 he had some manuscripts relating to the purpose, in a 
 manner pretended to oblige me to take him in a part- 
 ner. He told Beckwith, his half brother, being a run- 
 
 N
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ning stationer, that he would print a book of York too, 
 if I did not let him join with me. I was not willing at 
 first, but thinking him a fit antagonist against old 
 Hildyard, I returned word by old Tom, he should have 
 his desire, provided he had no part of what I had re- 
 ceived from subscribers. Upon this, agreeing, the im- 
 pression, which I only designed to be five hundred, was 
 augmented to one thousand, with a clause that, who- 
 ever was out of books first, should sell for the other, 
 paying two shillings each in sheets, till the whole 
 number were disposed of.* 
 
 1730. When I had published the work, my joy was 
 inexpressible, to be told what a kind reception it met with 
 from persons of both sexes, and all ranks and conditions, 
 I returned thanks to Heaven that I had written what was 
 
 * I took Hammond in partly also to ease me in the great expense I 
 had been at; but the wretch would never communicate to me any of 
 his manuscripts, which might have done me some good, but reserved 
 them for sale to Dr. D ke, my contemporary historian : so that the 
 whole weight lay upon me, which made me venture to ascend the 
 most lofty dangerous places, to explore the curious paintings in glassy 
 as well as into gloomy cemeteries, to restore the long dead to recent 
 memory. T. G.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 179 
 
 thought worthy to be read; and not misjudged, by the 
 most learned, to have treated that church with the least 
 want of respect, which our ancestors had raised to the 
 glory of Almighty God; and which, I believe, for a fine 
 Gothic building, is not to be excelled by any illustrious 
 piece of architecture in the whole universe. That I had 
 done my best, was taken as candidly as the most beau- 
 tiful work of the ablest artist; so that, as I was sensi- 
 ble of my own inability, I held myself to be under the 
 highest obligation to the public. In a particular man- 
 ner, I could not but reverence that noble lord, my 
 generous subscriber, who wrote to me the following 
 letter: 
 
 Charlton; June 23, 1730. 
 SIR, 
 
 Your three books of the History of York were delivered me 
 yesterday in London, on my return from the Bath. I have not had 
 time yet to peruse them, but I perceive there is a great deal of curious 
 and uncommon matter laboriously collected, which cannot fail to enter- 
 tain and instruct. I thank you, sir, for your care in sending them so 
 punctually and safely, and am, 
 
 Sir, 
 Your very humble servant, 
 
 PERCFVAI .
 
 180 THE LIFE OF 
 
 But I had a very merry epistle on a serious subject, 
 concerning an omission; the author thinking I was 
 quite in the wrong to entitle my work a sacred history, 
 since, as he said, only evangelical writings ought to be 
 termed such. But yet he kindly seemed to excuse me, 
 as thinking I did it purely in honour of Almighty God; 
 and desired me, if ever I reprinted the book, not to 
 omit a memorial of the Rev. Anthony Wright, who was 
 interred beneath the great lantern, or largest tower; 
 which I took notice of when I came to publish a second 
 volume of antiquities, as hereafter will be mentioned. 
 
 I had several admirers, who were surprised to think 
 a person so obscure as I was generally deemed, should 
 have the courage to venture on so noble and pious a 
 design; nor was I free from the sarcastic scoffs of 
 others, whose envy was far superior to their judgments: 
 for, at a perambulation, one Mr. Wiseacre reported, in 
 ridicule, what a parcel of stuff I had collected, such as 
 old illegible monuments and inscriptions in churches, 
 before the days of their ancient grannams. "Aye," 
 said the Rev. Mr. Knight, "has he done so? And do 
 you, sir, call these affectionate memorials only wretched 
 stuff? I assure you I think quite contrary; that, instead
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 181 
 
 of base reflections, he deserves commendable praises; 
 and, please God, I will buy one of them for my serious 
 perusal:" which the good gentleman accordingly did, 
 and was pleased to tell me that, what I had collected 
 deserved a larger volume, and worthy of a better price. 
 Mr. Hildyard, from an enemy turned my friend also, 
 bought and sold many, and continued in kindness to his 
 dying day; being sorry, I had reason to believe, for the 
 great trouble he at first had given to me and my family, 
 by his unreasonable threatenings : so that I had an 
 almost general approbation, which so grieved our silly 
 uncle, and those people under him, as to presume to 
 disgrace my works in their newspapers ; but I returned 
 them such smart usage as cured them. 
 
 It was in this year, on the 3d of April, that I took 
 Henry Addison for my apprentice. He was nephew to 
 the Rev. Mr. James Addison, vicar of Bishopsthorpe, 
 near this city, who gave me with him fifteen pounds. 
 The lad was brought up at Sedbergh school, proved very 
 skilful in the business, honestly served his time, and 
 handsomely provides for his wife and three lovely 
 young daughters, brought up by an affectionate mother. 
 About the time of his first coming to me, I printed
 
 182 THE LIFE OF 
 
 Suetonius in Latin and English, for the aforesaid Mr. 
 John Clarke, of Hull, in a demy octavo, closely exhi- 
 bited. 
 
 In 1731, having printed a translation of Oppian's 
 Cynegeticks, for Dr. Mawer, the Supplement for the 
 Polyglott Bible passed through my press. And then 
 my dear and I, considering our woful purchase in Stone- 
 gate, in which we durst not enter lest, if the old gentle- 
 woman should die, we should fall into the mercy of the 
 great R , who waited for that melancholy period to 
 us ; we bought the house where we now live, in Peter- 
 gate, opposite Mr. Shaw's, which we let to the inge- 
 nious Mr. Henry Hindeley, clockmake-r, for seven 
 pounds a year. 
 
 1732. I printed a book for Mr. Thomas Baxter, 
 schoolmaster, in Crathorn, Yorkshire, intituled, "The 
 Circle Squared," but as it never proved of any effect, 
 it was converted to waste paper, to the great mortifica- 
 tion of the author. A different reception Mr. Clarke's 
 Justin received this year, which was learnedly trans- 
 lated. 
 
 1733. My nephew, Arthur Clarke, aforesaid, was 
 sent with materials to furnish a printing office in Scar-
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 183 
 
 borough; from which we had a fair prospect of the 
 ocean. The gentry from the Spa used to visit us, to 
 have their names, and see the playhouse bills and other 
 work printed; and, at York, I published my History 
 of Rippon, with the antiquities of the most noted towns 
 in the county. An eminent and learned clergyman 
 reading my Treatise of Christianity, with the sufferings 
 of our blessed Saviour and his apostles, was pleased 
 to tell Mr. Knowlton, that he had never perused a more 
 instructive and pathetic abstract, that melted him even 
 into tears. Too great an approbation I might, in mo- 
 desty, justly suppose; however, it gave me infinite satis- 
 faction to find those things approved, which some vile 
 wretches had condemned. 
 
 In 1734, I printed "Miscellanea Curiosa," for Mr. 
 Thomas Turner; a work which got credit both to the 
 author and to me, for the beautiful performance thereof: 
 it was published quarterly; but for want of sufficient 
 encouragement, the work ceased in less than a year's 
 time, when the mathematic types ceased also to be of 
 any use to me. On the 7th of June this year, I took 
 Francis Hildyard, grandson to the old bookseller afore- 
 said, to be my apprentice, but so dull and slow a fellow
 
 184 THE LIFE OF 
 
 I never had before or since. I oft repented I had such 
 an unprofitable servant, and had little redress upon ray 
 complaint to Mr. Lambert, his uncle, who put him to 
 me, or his poor father, of mean condition, who having 
 lost a place, for wrong voting, in the government, was 
 at length glad to be clerk to the company of the smiths; 
 whose fate it was to fall down dead in the open street. 
 His unfortunate son, to me, on King Charles's day of 
 martyrdom, as he was fowling, missed his mark, and 
 shot his fellow-apprentice, Stephen Clarke, into the 
 thigh, to my great loss ; but, providentially, no bone 
 was broken, and the most dangerous parts untouched ; 
 so that, by the skill and care of that ingenious surgeon, 
 Mr. Shipton, he became perfectly sound again, in about 
 a quarter of a year's time. But Hildyard, though sen- 
 sible of my damage, never exerted himself in his duty 
 to me ; but, instead thereof, worked in my absence some 
 senseless reflections upon election matters, for his own 
 profit, which my good nature passed by; and I assure 
 my reader that, at the expiration of his time, I delivered 
 his indenture with great satisfaction. 
 
 In 1735, a Scotchman, whom Mr. White had owned 
 for a servant seven years, seceding from the newspaper
 
 MR. THOMAS OENT. 185 
 
 as to the name which was mentioned, young Mr. 
 Alexander Staples, son to my old back friend, Mr. 
 Robert Staples, at London, the celebrated disposer of 
 Dr. Daffy's elixir, was instigated by White to do good 
 in York, which he was not able himself to accomplish 
 with satisfaction. The young man accordingly arrived, 
 took a gallant house in Coney street, printed the news, 
 and really was as great a puff as ever I had seen before. 
 I really judged him to be a goodnatured youth, till I 
 inserted some lines in my journal which gave him um- 
 brage; as though his pretty advertising pictures and 
 Daffy's elixir were reflected upon, though his name or 
 paper were not mentioned therein. 
 
 I was charged with being the author; the shorthand 
 writer of Turpin's Life, Kyle, fell into a passion, and 
 proceeded to lying interpretations: Staples was, like 
 Hudibras, going to the lawyer to find out in what man- 
 ner he could deal with me: but after full consultation 
 at a club, a resolution was taken to wound, and, if pos- 
 sible, jolt my brains out with English and Latin verses; 
 and truly, such jargon was printed against me, that 
 was enough to infect a man with Scotch scabbado, but 
 not in the least to impair his understanding. I never
 
 186 THE LIFE OF 
 
 took notice of their unlearned filth, or such like canni- 
 bal vermin as Dugdale writes of in the Monasticon, in 
 various centuries, utter enemies to our natives of Eng- 
 land or Ireland, especially to the latter, and even false 
 to themselves. But, by the by, in a future work, I 
 compared the devourers of people's reputations to those 
 cannibals whom the Conqueror, William the First, 
 punished : " Pictura vitrea quae, est in claustro de Strens- 
 hale monstrat Scotos, qui prope fines Anglorum habitant, 
 fuisse vel ad Gulielmi Nothi tempora anthropophagos 
 & hanc immanitatem & Gulielmi gladio fuisse punitam." 
 But as Mr. Staples, I knew, was born in England, and 
 seduced by Mr. White, I had a respect for him as a 
 youth, that was unacquainted with my nature. We 
 after became friends, and did mutual kindnesses for 
 each other; and as he became more entangled in the 
 world, and found the cruel deceit thereof, he treated 
 me the more obligingly in his requesting letters. To 
 his great expense, he courted a young lady at New- 
 castle, in which being unsuccessful, his circumstances 
 became more suspected by discerning people. 
 
 1736. This year I published my History of Hull: 
 after which my publisher, Mr. Wilford, failed in London.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 187 
 
 I comforted, instead of afflicting the man, under his 
 heavy misfortunes, which he after gratefully remembered 
 in mentioning my work in his " Lives of Illustrious Per- 
 sonages," in folio, and generously ordered one of them 
 to be given, as a present, as some small atonement (the 
 utmost he was able,) for the loss that I had sustained 
 by him. 
 
 In 1736, Mr. Francis Drake published his "Ebora- 
 cum," or York History, in two volumes : a noble work, 
 to give him his due, as my friend, Browne Willis, 
 esq. styles it in his letter to me, which contains also 
 most curious and entertaining accounts of the adjoining 
 Aynsty. But, amongst other writers, he has thus ex- 
 hibited these words of me and my humble performance : 
 "The last thing," saith he, "which I shall mention, 
 is to inform the public, that I have seen and read 
 a small octavo printed tract, the title-page of which 
 bears this inscription, 'The Antient and Modern History 
 of the Famous City of York, and, in a particular 
 manner, of its magnificent Cathedral, commonly called 
 York Minster, &,c.; the whole diligently collected by 
 T. G.: York, printed, &c., 1730.' I have nothing to 
 say to this work, but to assure my contemporary his-
 
 188 THE LIFE OF 
 
 torian, that I have stolen little or nothing from his 
 laborious performance, wherein Mr. T. G., as author, 
 printer, and publisher of the work himself, endeavour- 
 ing to get a livelihood for his family, deserves commen- 
 dation for his industry." 
 
 I could expatiate very justly and sharply on the whole 
 of this ridiculous paragraph, unbecoming his character 
 as a gentleman: but I shall touch on it a very little; 
 for he proved a threatener, too, by telling me, that 
 authors had already treated of the Minster, and that if 
 I did any thing to border on their copies, I should incur 
 the penalty of an Act of Parliament. What he uttered 
 in terrorem I could but inwardly smile at, which, no 
 doubt, he perceived well enough ; and, being ascertained 
 of my resolution, lent me Willis's Book of Cathedrals, 
 which I accepted of, but would not copy after, having 
 the church so near me, and perceiving the wretched 
 mistakes of that publication. Besides, Mr. Drake was 
 a subscriber to, but a reflector on me to Mr. Samuel 
 Smith, when he perceived a discourse I had made, intro- 
 ductory to History, in my newspapers. As to the small- 
 ness of the tract, I am sure the book was multum in 
 parvo, and it should have been larger, if the city had
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 189 
 
 but blessed me with one fourth of fifty pounds which 
 he received, which, with other contributions from a 
 willing party, and the generosity of others, could not 
 but impel him forcibly to make a shining work, whether 
 otherwise he would or no. And as to his stealing any 
 thing of mine, that expression, so exceeding vulgar, 
 might well have been spared in a polite doctor, since 
 such are seldom charged with theft, except stealing 
 people out of their graves; besides, he was very wel- 
 come to any thing that I had painfully collected. I 
 never called any a fool in folio, as the inveterately pro- 
 voked Sam Smith did, before an assembly in Scar- 
 borough: and if any of my friends had said that he 
 was obliged to what I had performed, their offence was 
 none of mine. And therefore, thinking his character 
 like his commendation, and both very ludicrous, [ es- 
 teemed myself under no obligation to thank him, in the 
 least, for what he had written; but much rather those 
 gentlemen and ladies who pleased to approve of my per- 
 formance, and took it as a pocket companion in their 
 pleasant journey on the roads, whilst riding in their 
 coaches, or as an entertainer in their closets.* 
 
 * There is no vindicating the manner in which Drake speaks of this 
 performance of Gent; which was not, like too many modern books of
 
 190 THE LIFE OF 
 
 This year, on the 4th of May, I took Stephen Clarke for 
 my apprentice: he was the son of the Rev. Mr. Stephen 
 Clarke, M.A., rector of Burythorpe, near Malton, who 
 gave me with him twenty pounds. The youth honestly 
 served his time, and went to London, where I wish him 
 all the good fortune that he can expect or desire, accord- 
 ing to his merits. 
 
 1737. Having but too much time to spare, rather 
 than be indolent, I studied music on the harp, flute, and 
 other instruments. And, on the 15th of August, I took 
 apprentice Robert Moon, nephew to Mr. Moon, one of 
 the vergers, who gave me twenty guineas with him: he 
 served his time, and is now a master in Preston, Lanca- 
 shire, where he wed a handsome young woman, who 
 brought him an agreeable fortune. 
 
 topography, a mere bundle of pillage from the works of ingenious 
 and pains-taking authors, but consisting, for the most part, of matter 
 honestly collected, and not, before his time, made public by the press. 
 The passage, therefore, deserves to stand ; but it must not be con- 
 cealed, as a trait of good feeling in Gent, that he has cancelled the 
 passage, and, with a hand enfeebled with age and misfortune, has 
 added this note : " 1766. The Doctor has proved, since, a great friend 
 to me, I pray God bless him most sincerely, and shall do, I trust, 
 to my life's end."
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 191 
 
 1738. This year I wrote and printed a pastoral dia- 
 logue on the much lamented death of the Right Hon- 
 ourable and illustrious Charles Howard, Earl of Carlisle, 
 who died the 1st of May, at Bath; which poem was 
 universally received with kindness and approbation, 
 more, I may well think, in regard to the merits of the 
 deceased, than to any of mine in the performance, 
 though I dressed it up in as soft a manner as I could 
 wish; with which a most learned doctor in divinity, 
 Dr. John Mawer, rector of Middleton Tyas, near Rich- 
 mond, and an excellent poet, was graciously pleased to 
 send me his kind approbation, to my no small consolation. 
 
 About the 13th of January, 1738, Mr. Alexander 
 Staples was quite broken up by Dr. Burton; and, not 
 long after, the Messrs. Caesar Ward and Richard 
 Chandler became possessors of his printing materials: 
 besides, they carried on abundance of business in the 
 bookselling way, having had shops at London, York, 
 and Scarborough. The latter collected divers volumes 
 on Parliamentary affairs, and by the run they seemed 
 to take, one would have imagined that he would have 
 ascended to the apex of his desires; but, alas! his 
 thoughts soared too high, and sunk his fortunes so low,
 
 192 THE LIFE OF 
 
 by the debts he had contracted, that rather than become 
 a despicable object to the world, or bear the miseries of 
 a prison, he put a period to his life, by discharging a pis- 
 tol into his head, as he lay reclined on his bed. As I 
 knew the man formerly, I was very sorry to hear of his 
 tragical suicide, an action that for awhile seemed to 
 obumbrate the glories of Caesar, who found such a de- 
 ficiency in his partner's accounts, so great a want of 
 money, and such a woful sight of flowing creditors, 
 that made him succumb under the obligation to a sta- 
 
 O 
 
 tute of bankruptcy; during which time he has been 
 much reflected on by a Scot, who had been his servant, 
 and obnoxious for awhile to many persons, who were 
 not thoroughly acquainted with him. But he now 
 brightly appears again, amidst the dissipating clouds of 
 distress, in the publication of a paper, that transcends 
 those of his contemporaries as much as the rising sun 
 does the falling stars. 
 
 In January 1739, the frost having been extremely 
 intense, the rivers became so frozen, that I printed 
 names upon the ice. It was a dangerous spot on the 
 south side of the bridge, where I first set up, as it were, 
 a new kind of press, only a roller wrapt about with
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 193 
 
 blankets. Whilst reading the verses I had made to 
 follow the names, wherein King George was most loyally 
 inserted, some soldiers round about made great acclama- 
 tions, with other good people; but the ice suddenly 
 crackling, they almost as quickly run away, whilst I, 
 who then did not hear well, neither guessed the mean- 
 ing, fell to work, and wondered at them as much for 
 retiring so precipitately as they at me for staying: 
 but taking courage, they stoutly returned back, brought 
 company, and I took some pence amongst them. After 
 this, I moved my shop to and fro, to the great satis- 
 faction of young gentlemen, ladies, and others, who 
 were very liberal on the occasion.* 
 
 1741. Having printed the news for several years, for 
 want of encouragement, I was obliged to give it up 
 about this time: I had studied and endeavoured, to my 
 utmost ability, to make it bear, but the strength of the 
 Craftsman, with my misfortunes, had now quite over- 
 come me. I peaceably dropt into oblivion, without any 
 
 * Here is introduced a long and uninteresting account of the man- 
 ner in which he was deprived of the liouse in Stonegate, which was 
 held under a prebendal lease. 
 
 o
 
 194 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ludicrous animadversions of my contemporary brethren. 
 I lost, by death, one of the best of lodgers, in room 
 of whom I got one of the worst; but, what grieved me 
 not a little, was the death of that fine tall personage, 
 my patron, the Rev. Mr. Hitch: he had, I believe, over- 
 heated himself at the strife about obtaining votes for 
 members of Parliament, that threw him into a mortal 
 fever, which, on the '26th of December, conveyed his 
 precious soul, I hope, into the blessed regions of a 
 glorious immortality.* Now all my hopes were arrived 
 at their final period ; what my late patron might have 
 gained, had he renewed, was entirely lost to his friends. 
 But he was of a honourable disposition, and scorned 
 that the church or his successors should suffer through 
 any base compliance: he well knew how I was served, 
 and what the alderman intended, as well as his right 
 interest, not to be imposed upon. I am told, had he 
 lived longer, such was the favor he found at court, that 
 
 * From York Courant, Number 846, printed by Caesar Ward, 
 York, December 29, 1741: "Last week, died, the Rev. Mr. Hitch, 
 rector of Boswell, and chaplain to H. R. Highness the Prince of 
 Wales/' T. G.
 
 MR. THOMAS OF.N 7 T. 195 
 
 he was in a fair way of getting a bishopric in Ireland, 
 but God thought fit to take him to himself; on whom 
 I made the following lines: 
 
 Lamented shade ! thy kindness done to me, 
 But, what was dearer, pity shewn to mine, 
 
 Though now amongst the shining saints you be, 
 Thy fate we'll mourn, and venerate your shrine! 
 
 Till heaven, like you, who stops our streaming tears, 
 
 Shall, through death's summons, free our souls from cares. 
 
 Mr. Laurence Sterne, nephew to a doctor of divinity 
 of that surname, having obtained his prebend, how he 
 agreed with the alderman I cannot tell; but I found it 
 was in vain for me to make application to him, since 
 Mr. Hitch could not relieve me; however, it was some 
 comfort to see how Henry Hitch, esq. wrote of me from 
 London to the Rev. Mr. Wilkinson, in the following year: 
 
 "By your directions," said he, "given me to you, I find you are 
 with Mr. Gent, the printer: that honest man had hard treatment from 
 Alderman Read. If my dead relation had had longer days, he would 
 have relieved him ; I wish you would recommend him to Mr. Sterne." 
 
 But as I perceived I was for ever ejected, my friends 
 thought it vain to make fresh application. God for- 
 
 2o
 
 196 THE LIFE OF 
 
 give the alderman ! with the same breath I pray, 
 sincerely, that none of my concerns may have any en- 
 tanglement with such a great r like him, that so I 
 may be freed from utter destruction. 
 
 But to the increase of my misfortunes, the then 
 steward, as he called himself, Jeremiah Rudsdell, a pres- 
 byterian baker, began to assert a right to receive the 
 rents of the house I lived in in Coffee yard, though, on 
 the 15th of June, the year before, he disclaimed all 
 right, for the future, to being concerned, before Mr. 
 Thomas Oliver, and told me to pay it to Mrs. Atkinson, 
 (widow of John Atkinson, vulgarly called Sir John 
 Cheese,) for she only was empowered to receive it, not 
 only as part of her own share, but to take the share of 
 her daughter and Mr. Gouge, to whom she was to be 
 accountable. After this, he troubled himself no further 
 about repairs, which were left entirely to the said Mrs. 
 Jane Atkinson, who lodged in my house about a year, 
 or a year within two or three days, and owed me for 
 board, and attendance given her by my servants as a 
 gentlewoman; but she, and her sister, and brother-in- 
 law, Gouge, falling out, Rudsdell gets, I suppose, 
 a new power, and (when I least expected any such
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 197 
 
 matter,) seizes part of my goods in the shop and kitchen, 
 and claps bailiffs into my house, through the direction 
 of Yawood, an attorney. My house inPctergate being 
 then empty, I was repairing it for another tenant, in the 
 room of the ingenious Mr. Hendley, who had given me 
 warning, and was removed into Stonegate, meanwhile, 
 Mrs. Atkinson repleving the goods. But a little after, 
 my spouse, fearing a fresh seizure, through what she had 
 heard, consented I should repair our own, so as to be fit 
 for a printing office, and leave our former abode for ever. 
 Through its wretched owners, that unhappy estate was 
 purchased in Stonegate, which the alderman before 
 mentioned had gotten possession from us. 'Twas fresh 
 oppression that, in 1729, had so provoked us, that we 
 were very near taking a lease of Mr. Sheriff Lambert's 
 house, in Petergate; and now this last insult which had 
 flown about, that I was near broke, besides other dan- 
 gers, were sufficient reason to give our landlady warning 
 to seek a new tenant, if she pleased : Mr. Blanchard, 
 of the Spiritual Court, was present when I spoke, and 
 more fully repeated after I had ceased, and then I pre- 
 sented her a paper, in which was written
 
 198 THE LIFE OF 
 
 "May 1, 1742. 
 "To MRS. JANE ATKINSON: 
 
 "MADAM, this is to give you notice, and your daughter, 
 likewise your brother and sister Gouge, and Mrs. Remmington, or any 
 who are, or may be concerned, as landlord or landladies of the house 
 in Coffee Yard and stable adjacent, that I shall leave entirely your or 
 their house and stable, and be no more a tenant to any of your or their 
 agents, in anywise, after Martinmas next: and as I have with you 
 (although with some reluctancy,) been, as it were, obliged to sign a 
 bond for replevin of my seized goods, I shall, God willing, clear them 
 of all demands, where appears a right upon balance, when the law 
 of the kingdom shall settle matters according to justice and equity. 
 You have been set over me as a landlady, and yet is my lodger and 
 boarder, notwithstanding, indebted to me, which, you know, must 
 be allowed. 
 
 "I am, madam, 
 
 "Your humble servant, 
 
 "THOMAS GENT." 
 
 She said she accepted ray warning, and I might go 
 when I pleased : I told her I blamed not her so much as 
 I did others, and gave her soft expressions to please 
 her. But I heard, when we were departed, she fell into 
 tears, and so alternately into other strange passions. 
 
 After this, I was at great expense and labour in mov- 
 ing my goods; and, I remember, my new building was
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 199 
 
 but just covered with the leads and surrounded by a 
 walk, when it was told me, that the house I was leaving 
 was advertised to be let, in the public newspaper, which 
 I purchased of Thomas Wilson, baker, in Stonegate. 
 It was in the "York Courant," number 868, printed for 
 Caesar Ward, bookseller, dated Tuesday, June 1, 1742, 
 viz. 
 
 "TO BE LETT, 
 
 "The house where Mr. Thomas Gent, printer, now lives, in Coffee 
 Yard, York, to be entered on at Martinmas next: inquire of Mr. 
 Bernard Awmonds, grocer, in Castle Gate, York. 
 
 "N.B. It hath been a printing office above an hundred years." 
 
 During my troubles, I received two letters from Browne 
 Willis, esq. which I beg leave to mention here, as a 
 grateful memorial of him. 
 
 " To Mr. Thomas Gent, in the City of York. 
 
 " Whaddon Hull, near Fenny, Stratford, Bucks. 
 
 "November 22, 1740. 
 "Si u, 
 
 "I AM concerned to let a brother antiquary's letter lie near 
 three weeks unanswered; but the truth is, I wanted some of my rela- 
 tions, members of Parliament, to frank my scroll; and also hoped 
 to have had your new work sent me down hither, and have wrote two
 
 200 THE LIFE OF 
 
 letters to my bookseller to despatch it to me : but he is in so bad a 
 state of health, and not like to live, that it is neglected, and so I sent 
 to a gentleman to take it at Mr. Overton's. If I am pretty well, as 
 indeed I am very much otherwise, T hope, at Christmas, or soon after, 
 to be in town, and shall be glad to recommend your performance. I 
 thought you proposed another edition of the History of York; if you 
 do intend it, exhibit one, perhaps -I may help you, as I would have 
 done had you put any queries to me. Cannot you give any dedica- 
 tions in Yorkshire, &c. not printed already by me? Any corrections 
 or improvements to what I have published will be very acceptable, 
 and shall rejoice if any forward your laborious designs, as being, good 
 sir, your most assured friend and devoted servant to command, 
 
 "BROWNE WILLIS. 
 
 "p. s. I hope Mr. Selby and Dr. Drake are well. If you find any 
 thing, you may send in this manner: 
 
 "'Ira Ainstie Deanery. 
 
 "' Rufford Capella. Billborough Cur. Fenton V. Burley Chapel. 
 Bray ton V. Garforth R. Horseforth and Kawden, Chapels to Guiseley. 
 Stainborne, Chapel to Kirby Overblows. Leathley R. &c.* 
 
 "If you can send me any tradesmen's halfpennies would be accept- 
 able, especially seven or eight marked thus, with a stroke . I want 
 also those of Wetherby, Tadcaster, Sherburne Co. York, Tuxford, 
 Blith, Work sop Co. Nottingham, cum multis aliis."
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 201 
 
 " To Mr. Thomas Gent, Printer, in the City of York. 
 
 " Whaddon Hall, near Fenny Stratford, Buckinghamshire; 
 "January 18, 1743. 
 
 "SIR, 
 
 "I RECEIVED yours, the 7th of last month, not till a week 
 ago, and am very willing to purchase your new book, as I have all 
 the others, though I am sorry you go out of your own county for matter, 
 as there is so much in Mr. Tort's manuscripts, that the world would be 
 glad of. Suppose you described all the churches in the market towns, 
 and gave all the epitaphs in them before 1600, viz. all the brassplate in- 
 scriptions, with the Orate, as in Mr. Torr's MS. Your account of York 
 City is, in my opinion, a very useful book, has multum in parvo; and 
 as you talk of a new edition, I could give the names of members of 
 Parliament omitted in Dr. Drake, whose book is a noble performance, 
 and it is surprising where he could get together so much. I wish I 
 could see Lincoln, or any other city, wrote half so particular: he 
 seems to have omitted nothing of labours or pains in his searches, 
 except about the city members, which I sent him from the returns at 
 London. These I supply were by the kindness of Mr. Strangways, 
 deputy town-clerk, when I was at York. I had not time to look after the 
 6th of Edward the Sixth, if they are entered in the Chamberlain's book, 
 who paid their wages. Pray describe the fabrics of York churches: 
 as, for instance, All Saints' church has a body and two side aisles, 
 leaded and embattled, with a tiled chancel; at the west end is a tower 
 with an octagon dome on it, in which hang three bells. This is by
 
 202 THE LIFE OF 
 
 way of specimen, to shew what I would say, and I don't put it down 
 as an exact account or description. 
 
 " I expect to be in town next week, and if you go on with your new 
 edition of York, shall be glad to recommend it, who am 
 
 " Your assured friend and servant, 
 
 "BROWNE WILLIS. 
 
 "p.s. I hope Mr. Selby is well, and goes on with his collection of 
 coins. When had you the account of Archbishop Montaigne? of his 
 parentage, &c.? 
 
 "Page 359, in 'Drake's History of York,' 
 
 " Names of members of Parliament to be added, omitted in Drake : 
 
 "EDWARD iv. 
 "22. Parliament at Westminster: Richard York, Miles Metcalfe. 
 
 "RICHARD in. 
 "1. Par. West.: Richard York, Thomas Wrangwich. 
 
 "HENRY vn. 
 
 "1. Par. West.: John Feriby, Robert Hancock. 
 
 1. Pan West.: Richard York, Robert Hancock. 
 
 3. Par. West.: Nicholas Lancaster, John Gilyot. 
 
 4. Par. West.: Richard York, Sir William Todd. 
 
 6. Par. West.: William Chimney, Thomas Scotton. 
 
 7. Par. West. : Thomas Scotton.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 203 
 
 11. Par. West.: William White, Thomas Gray. 
 
 12. Par. West.: George Kirk, John Metcalfe. 
 
 "HENRY vm. 
 
 "1. Par. W 7 est.: William Neleson, Brian Palmes. 
 3. Par. West.: William Neleson, Thomas Drawsword. 
 6. Par. West. : William Neleson, William Wright. 
 
 14 ) 
 
 ' ; In Drake bolh these returned. 
 <o. > 
 
 36. Par. West.: John North, Robert Hall." 
 
 The aforesaid letter, with those above-collected names 
 of Parliament men, was the last I received from Browne 
 Willis, esq., who, I hear, is departed this mortal life, 
 happy for him, I trust, though much lamented by others 
 who, with pleasure, have perused his indefatigable la- 
 bours. 
 
 About August 1744, I built a tower upon my house, 
 which very much strengthened the whole building and 
 platform, by joining the chimney with a communication 
 to the southern wall, so that there appeared a regular 
 conjunction and uniformity; besides, the floor of the 
 tower, was a shelter to the door of the leads, which, be- 
 fore, let in the rain, and rotted my new stairs. By this 
 addition, my house seems the highest in the city, and
 
 204 THE LIFE OF 
 
 affords an agreeable prospect round the country: we 
 have an wholesome air whenever we please to ascend, 
 especially the mornings and evenings, with great con- 
 veniency for my business, when over-crowded in the 
 narrow rooms below ; and several gentlemen have, occa- 
 sionally, taken a serious pipe, to talk of affairs in print- 
 ing ; as well as neighbours, to satisfy their curiosity, in 
 viewing the flowers that grow almost round about upon 
 the walls. One of my apprentices, Joseph Nickson, cut 
 the following sketch hereof, which I here place as a 
 memorial, to be remembered when I am in the grave, 
 should the building, by some future possessor, happen 
 to be demolished. 
 
 [This cut, which like too many of Gent's book- 
 embellishments will not bear to be copied, is at the 
 head of an advertisement, of which a copy is pasted 
 on the last leaf of the manuscript. It is characteristic 
 of him.]
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 205 
 
 THOMAS GENT, 
 
 JETAT. 50, 
 
 Laus Deo : 
 
 A person descended from the Gents in Staffordshire, freeman of 
 London, York, and two other remarkable cities, lawful printer and 
 stationer; a lover of these English northern parts, in which, as a right 
 master, he has brought up several reputable servants; and, under 
 God's divine providence, hitherto protected his family, to the comfort 
 also of some needy, but honest deserving people. Within his new 
 well-contrived office, abovesaid, printing work is performed in a 
 curious and judicious manner, having sets of fine characters for the 
 Greek, Latin, English, Mathematics, &c. He sells the Histories of 
 Rome, France, England, particularly of this ancient City, Aynsty, and 
 extensive County, in five volumes; likewise a book of the holy life of 
 St. Winifred, and her wonderful Cambrian fountain. He has stimu- 
 lated an ingenious founder to cast such musical types, for the common 
 press, as never yet were exhibited; and has prepared a new edition for 
 his York History against the time when the few remaining of that first 
 and large impression are disposed of, wherein will appear several remark- 
 able occurrences and amendments, if it pleases the Divine Majesty to 
 grant him life at the publication thereof. 
 
 Psallite Domino, in cithara, in cithara et voce Psalmi: in tubis 
 ductilibus, et voce tubae corneae. 
 
 Ipsi vero in vanum quaesierunt animam meam, introibunt in inferi- 
 ora terra : tradentur in manus gladii : partes vulpium erunt.
 
 206 THE LIFE OF 
 
 [Gent's affairs, we may perceive, were beginning to de- 
 cline at the time when this narrative is closed. It does not 
 appear that he ever continued the story: it would, it is 
 to be feared, have been but a narrative of a course of life 
 which was bound in shallows and in miseries. He 
 continued, indeed, to reside at his house in Petergate; 
 but new and more enterprising printers arose in that 
 northern metropolis; till, at length, Gent's press became 
 in little request. His topographical resources were ex- 
 hausted in his three works on York, Rippon, and Hull; 
 and it is little of valuable information of any kind that 
 is to be derived from his " History of the East Window 
 in York Minster," which he published in 1762, when, 
 as Mr. Gough says, he was sinking under age and 
 necessity.* 
 
 Still he had friends who respected him, and were wil- 
 ling to assist him. A portrait was painted of him by 
 one of the Drakes, a family who were particularly atten- 
 tive to him in his old age. This portrait appears to 
 have been exhibited for his benefit; and there was a 
 
 * British Topography, vol. ii. p. 428.
 
 MR. THOMAS GENT. 207 
 
 mezzotinto engraving from it by Valentine Green, of 
 which a copy is prefixed to this volume. It is said by 
 some who knew him, to be an admirable resemblance of 
 him, with his fine loose flowing silvery hair, and wanting 
 only the fresh and ruddy appearance of his counte- 
 nance. A play was twice performed for his benefit. 
 These things contributed 
 
 " To smooth the harsh severities of age;" 
 
 one of his own lines, and not the worst, in perhaps the 
 latest of his compositions. 
 
 Were any one to attempt to make a catalogue of the 
 works of Gent, he would find it a harder task than ever 
 bibliographer performed. All his principal writings have 
 been mentioned : but beside them, he who could be at 
 once author, printer, and publisher, and who was driven 
 by necessity to make every exertion, must, we are sure, 
 have produced numerous smaller tracts, some with his 
 name, and some without; neither, indeed, is it a very 
 tempting inquiry. 
 
 But the writer of this little supplementary notice 
 possesses one of the later tracts of Gent, which deserves 
 to be taken notice of, as being the longest of his at-
 
 LIFE OF MR. THOMAS GI-'.NT. 
 
 tempts in verse, and on account of the singularity of 
 its mode of publication : it is a translation into English 
 verse, with some additions, of the "Reliquiee Eboracen- 
 ses," an elegant poem, on the Roman affairs in Brigantia, 
 by Dr. Heneage Bering, sometime Dean of Rippon. It 
 is printed on the coarsest paper, and in the rudest man- 
 ner; it has no title-page, but the following note is pre- 
 fixed, in the handwriting of Gent himself: 
 
 Designed to be advertised and published, soon as proper paper 
 can be afforded, either through beneficent subscription, or generosity 
 to the laborious well-known author, whose Icon was lately exhibited, 
 to general satisfaction. 
 
 This must have been about the year 1772. He died at 
 his house in York, on the 19th of May, 1778, in the 
 eighty-seventh year of his age ; aud was interred in the 
 church of St. Michael le Belfrey. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 
 
 C. .41>LAlin, PRINTER, BARTHOLOMEW CLOSE.
 
 
 
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