At the time of the American war, a gentleman (a mere youth) entered the army, and saw some little service.  One day, during an engagement, he was, in the hurry and confusion of it, knocked down; and a soldier, setting his foot upon his chest in passing over him, hurt him so exceedingly that he became senseless; upon recovering, he found himself still stretched on the ground, and a singular, looking female stood beside him, who, as he opened his eyes, exclaimed in an ill-boding voice, “Ay, young man, mark my words:  that hurt will be the death of you in your forty-second year.”  He immediately recognised in this old raven one of those soothsayers who usually followed the army, and gained a livelihood by their oracular powers.  Mr. L. certainly did mark her words, inasmuch as returning to England, he quitted the army, entered the church, and amongst other red-coat reminiscences, used frequently to mention (and mention but to ridicule) the American soothsayer’s prediction.  Nevertheless, true it is, that he did die in his forty-second year, and of a disease in his chest too, although he had never suffered from the hurt beyond the period at which he received it.

Imagination.

The measles (it is pretty well known to all voyagers) is at St. Helena a hideous and fatal disorder, although generally mild at the Cape, which is about a fortnight’s sail from the former island:  every ship, therefore, from the Cape, upon touching at St. Helena, undergoes examination, and, if the measles are known to be prevalent at the former place, is put into quarantine, and no officer, however urgent his business may be, allowed to land without making oath or affidavit that he has not been on shore at the Cape, or approached an infected person.  Some years since, a naval officer, acquainted with the then governor of St. Helena, General P——­n, was invited to dine with him, and met at dinner another officer from another vessel, who, it is to be presumed, had eluded undergoing the usual precautionary measures, and was perhaps ignorant of their existence, since he mentioned, during the repast, that the measles were prevailing at Cape Town, and admitted that he had entered it.  Now, he had just arrived at St. Helena, and though he expressly stated that he had not gone near any infected person, poor Mrs. P——­, uttering a shriek, fled from the table, exclaiming that she knew she should have the measles; in fact, she immediately fell sick of that disorder, (and died, I think I understood.) All her family took it, and it raged through the island, proving dreadfully destructive.

Mysterious Incident.