It was in the morning that my unknown conductor took me through the busy streets into the city, and entering a coffee-house, near the Exchange, almost filled with company, he spent some time before he could resolve where to seat himself; at length he determined on a place, which, to me, appeared the most inconvenient one in the room, it being in a box that was already almost full; here he breakfasted and read the papers, but seemed more intent upon remarking the company, than on the news of the day. We stayed here about an hour, when my conductor rose up, and taking a gentleman’s hat instead of his own, was leaving the room. As soon as the owner observed the mistake, on acquainting him with it, he asked the gentleman pardon, and at the same time informed him, that he was so extremely near-sighted, that without the help of his glass, (which he had unfortunately left at home) he was continually mistaking; the gentleman begged he would make no apology, as every man was liable to mistake; shortly after he took an opportunity to go away without paying for his breakfast, which made me conclude he had likewise unfortunately left his memory at home. This caused me to reflect that I was very indifferently situated in being obliged to accompany a man that went into company without either eyes or memory, and I must own I began not to half like the prospect of this adventure.—Soon after leaving this coffee-room, he went into another, where seating himself as before, he drank a dish of chocolate, and on his leaving the place, his eyesight again failed him, and he mistook another gentleman’s hat for his own again, and went off with it without interruption or paying for his chocolate: this second mistake alarmed me greatly, fearing lest the owner of the hat should be in pursuit of us, who possibly might not shew so much regard for the infirmity of my conductor as the other gentleman had, or not entertain so favourable an opinion of his veracity, especially as the difference in value of the hat, was greatly in favour of this near-sighted spark, which circumstance I observed in the preceding mistake likewise; but my fears ceased, when coming into Corn-hill I heard him call a coach, and stepping in, ordered the coachman to drive to Covent Garden, but in Fleet-street he ordered him to stop in middle Temple-lane, and to set him down at a certain door there, on the coach stopping at the place appointed, he ordered the coachman to wait, and I imagined that he was calling upon his lawyer, but found he only went through a public office, which opened into two different places and was used as a thoroughfare. Having passed the other door, he very leisurely walk’d across the court, and so into Fleet-street, and from thence, without stopping, he conducted me to the piazza’s, Covent Garden. This extraordinary absence of thought in leaving the coachman to wait for him, when it appeared evident he did not intend to return to him,