why then, Farewell, say
I, to all Governments, Ecclesiastical and Civil! But, I thank my better
stars! I am alive to confront this false and audacious Predictor, and to
make him rue the hour he ever affronted a Man of Science and Resentment.

The Cardinal may take what measures he pleases, with him: as His
Excellency is a foreigner and a Papist, he hath no reason to rely on me
for his justification. I shall only assure the World that he is alive!
but as he was bred to Letters, and is master of a pen, let him use it in
his own defence!

In the meantime, I shall present the Public with a faithful Narrative of
the ungenerous treatment and hard usage I have received from the virulent
Papers and malicious practices of this pretended Astrologer.

A true and impartial ACCOUNT OF THE PROCEEDINGS OF ISAAC BICKERSTAFF,
Esq., against Me.

The 29th of March, _Anno Dom_., 1708, being the night this Sham Prophet
had so impudently fixed for my last; which made little impression on
myself, but I cannot answer for my whole family. For my wife, with a
concern more than usual, prevailed on me to take somewhat to sweat for a
cold; and between the hours of 8 and 9, to go to bed.

The maid as she was warming my bed, with the curiosity natural to young
women, runs to the window, and asks of one passing the street, "Who the
bell tolled for?"

"Dr. PARTRIDGE," says he, "the famous _Almanack_ maker, who died suddenly
this evening."

The poor girl provoked, told him, "He lied like a rascal!"

The other very sedately replied, "The sexton had so informed him; and if
false, he was to blame for imposing on a stranger."

She asked a second, and a third as they passed; and every one was in the
same tone.

Now I don't say these were accomplices to a certain astrological Squire,
and that one BICKERSTAFF might be sauntering thereabouts; because I will
assert nothing here but what I dare attest, and plain matter of fact.

My wife, at this, fell into a violent disorder; and I must own I was a
little discomposed at the oddness of the accident.

In the meantime, one knocks at the door. BETTY runneth down and opening,
finds a sober grave person, who modestly inquires "If this was Dr.
PARTRIDGE's?"

She, taking him for some cautious City patient, that came at that time
for privacy, shews him into the dining-room.

As soon as I could compose myself, I went to him; and was surprised to
find my gentleman mounted on a table with a two-foot rule