the ground, with the exception of two suites of apartments belonging to the English East India Company, and three appertaining to the Dutch fac tory. At this juncture the wind shifted to the East, and shortly after the fire was in a great measure suppressed.

ན ་ ་ ་

The day was wet and lowering, which added considerably to the horrible grandeur of the scene. Our print represents the flames bursting but at a place called Hog Lane, close to the Company's factory, which latter is distinguished by the English flag. The American standard, tied in knots (called a Whift) is seen flying, as a signal for American boats. The long wall, with two doors, marks the house of Mowqua, a Hong merchant, whose losses on the occasion are said to have been immense. In the foreground is a war-junk. The boat in the centre, without a mast, is called THE FLOWER BOAT, and is generally inhabited by Chinese Cyrians, but on this occasion the ladies were ejected to make room for the European officers, who made it a temporary place of abode.

NIGHT-MARE.

The degree of consciousness during a paroxysm of Night-mare, is so much greater than happens in a dream, that the person who has had a vision of this kind cannot bring himself easily to acknowledge the deceit, unless he should wake out of the paroxysm, and find some incongruity with respect to time or place, which would prove the transaction an allusion. Of the varions deceptions of this kind, related by Mr. Waller, in a treatise on Incubus, we select one. As terrific dreams and nocturnal visions are all of the same complaint, they are prevented by similar means.

یکه

Mr. B (at this moment a student in London), was once living in lodg ings in the vicinity of St. Thomas's Hospital, and happening to wake in the middle of the night, as he imagined he heard the sound of footsteps approach his door, which was quickly opened, and he saw distinctly a man

enter the room, whom he described as having a blue coat with white buttons: the moon was shining into the room, and he could see every object distinctly: the man approached the side of the bed, when Mr. B. drew himself under the bed-clothes; in this situation he heard the ticking of his watch under the pillow, where he had always taken the precaution to secure it. In a short time he felt the hand of the man rummaging the pillow, as if with the design of seizing the watch; upon which Mr. B. drew the watch gently into the bed, and concealed it there: he still, however, felt distinctly the man's hand under the pillow, and was now in the greatest alarm ima'ginable, not only for his watch, but for his personal safety, and began to complain aloud of pain in the bowels, accusing the supper he had eaten as being the cause of the disturbance, with the idea, that by this stratagem he might succeed in getting up and going out of the room, without excit ing any suspicion in the man (who was still, as he supposed, standing by the bed-side) as to the true cause of his getting up. He at length ventured to get out on the opposite side of the bed, and hastened towards the door, the man followed him, and he says he felt distinctly the impression of the hand upon one shoulder, just as he was escaping out at the door. He ran instantly into the bed-room of the man who kept the house, and gave an alarm. This person immediately arose, and called in the watchman: the house was searched from top to bottom very strictly, but no person of any description could be found; the doors and windows were all secure, nor was there a possibility of any one getting in or out of the house not be satisfied on this score; the eviunobserved. Mr. B., however, could dence of his own senses, which had never before deceived him, appeared to him to be superior to all other evidence whatsoever. He quitted his lodgings the next day, and retained pertinaciously the opinion that what he had seen was real, until more than a year afterwards, when, being at sea, he was again visited by this extraor

dinary affection, and was equally certain of the reality of his vision; but, in this case, he had the opportunity of proving, in the most satisfactory manner, that it was a delusion.

This most distressing, and, in some cases, dangerous complaint, arises in general from an acid in the stomach, and may almost always be prevented by taking twenty or thirty grains of carbonate of soda in a little ale or porter going to bed, keeping the bowels open with some gentle medicine.

HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH

STAGE.

SECTION 9.-Having described the rise, progress, and internal economy of the Theatres existing at the commencement of the 17th century, what may be looked upon as the first great period of our Dramatic History, is now completed. At most of the houses noticed, performances appear to have taken place during the reign of James First, and the early part of his son's, but a period quickly arrived when this sunshine of histrionic prosperity underwent a long and total eclipse. One

of the first measures of the revolutionary parliament was an attack upon the Theatre, as is shewn by the following Ordinance, which was proposed by the Commons, and agreed to by the Lords, in September, 1642:

"An
ORDINANCE
Of both Houses of
Parliament

For the suppressing of Publike StagePlayes throughout the Kingdome, during these Calamitous Times.

WHEREAS the distressed estate of Ireland, steeped in her own blood, and the distracted estate of England, threatned with a cloud of blood, by a Civill Warre, call for all possible meanes to appease and avert the wrath of God, appearing in these judgments, amongst which, fasting and prayer having often been tried to be very effectual, have bin lately, and are still enjoyned; and whereas publike sports doe not well agree with publicke cala

mities, nor publike Stage-Playes with the seasons of humiliation, this being an exercise of sad and pious solemnity, and the other spectacles of pleasure, too commonly expressing lascivious mirth and levetie: it is therefore thought fit, and ordeined, by the Lords and Commons in this Parliament assembled, that while these sad causes and set times of humiliation doe continue, publike Stage-Playes shall cease and bee forborne. Instead of which, are recommended to the people of this land, the profitable and seasonable considerations of repentance, reconciliation, and peace with God, which probably may produce outward peace and prosperity, and bring againe times of joy and gladnesse to these nations.

"Die Veneris, Sep. the 2nd. 1642. "Ordered by the Lords and. Commons assembled in Parliament, that this Ordinance concerning StagePlayes be forthwith printed and published.

66

66

'John Browne, Cler. Parliament. September 3. London: printed for John Wright, 1642.".

This prohibition, however, appears not to have been so effectual as was desired by the framers of it, and Plays were still occasionally performed while the ultimate success of the republican arms was doubtful; but on the 3d of Feb. 1648, when the royal cause was in a desperate state, a more severe Ordinance, commanding the immediate and total suppression of Theatres, was issued by the Parliament. It enacted that all players who presumed to follow their profession, should be looked upon as rogues and vagabonds, and punished accordingly; and, that every person present as a spectator, should, upon conviction, forfeit 5s. to the poor of the parish in which the offence was committed. It, moreover, authorized the Lord Mayor of London, and the Magistrates of Middlesex and Surrey, to pull down all stagegalleries, seats, and boxes, used for the acting of Stage-Plays, within their several jurisdictions. The document may be seen at full in "Cobbet's Parliamentary History," v. 3. p. 816. The orders thus given were strictly carried into effect; most of the The

atres were demolished; the Players became completely dispersed, and never more dared to perform, except by stealth, till just before the Restoration of Charles Second. In the next Section we shall resume our History at that period, and relate the proceedings which took place upon the re-establishment of the Theatre. (Resumed at page 265.)

GHOST STORIES.-No. IV. [THE reader is requested to observe that the following relation forms a se quel to that inserted at page 180, to which he please to refer, previous to the perusal of the present article, in order to refresh his memory as to the antecedent particulars.]

The town clerk of Barnstable in Devonshire, in the year 1639, was one of the people called Puritans. He had an apprentice of about 16 years of age, a sturdy lad, whose name was Chamberlain, he complained often to his master that the house was haunted, and that he was frightened with apparitions. Sometimes he saw a young gentlewoman of about 18 or 20 years of age, all in white, with her hair dissheveled, leading a little child up and down the room, which seemed as if it were but new born; otherwhile, she would carry it in her arms, but very dejectedly and disconsolately; and she would look upon him in a very doleful manner. Afterwards there would come an old man in a gown, and set upon the bed by him, staring him in the face, but spake never a word: These apparitions being very troublesome to him, his pious master took him to several ministers, who con versed with him, and advised him to speak to it; and one of them who encouraged him to do it, watched some nights with him; but upon sight of the spectre was so affrighted himself, that he could not speak, nor would he suffer young Chamberlain to speak neither. But, one night, as he was sitting up, writing some instrument or engrossing a deed, he came to a place that was interlined and blotted, and just then comes into the room (as he thought) his master, who sits down

He

by him, wedging him in so that he could not get out; he reads the blur red paragraph over and over, but not being able to make any sense of it, he takes it up, and speaks (as he supposed) to his master. "Sir," saith he, "will you be pleased to read this to me, for I cannot tell what sense to make of it; but there was no answer given him. He, supposing that his master was busy in meditation, thought it good manners not to interrupt him, till having tired himself to pick sense out of the blotted writing, which he could not do, he takes it up the second time, and bespeaks his supposed master; "Sir," saith he, "will you be pleased- And with that casting his eye upon him, soon discovers the mistake, and finds that it was the spectre that had so long troubled him. would then have given his life for a halfpenny; but, plucking up his spirit, necessity and despair making him vali ant, he boldly asks him, "Sir, why do you trouble me?" To which the spectre replies, Do not be afraid, I will do you no harm."-" Well, what is it then you would have?”—“ Why," saith the spectre, "go thou into such a room in the house, and dig there up the planking, and you will find four boxes one upon the other; in the first, there is all sorts of wearing apparel, of silk, sattin, and velvet, for men and women. In the second, abundance of good table and bed linen, very fine, and choice of Holland and damask. In the third, there is a sum of money, in gold and silver ready coined, and two silver pots, one full of gold." Which, together with all the rest of these buried goods, the apparition bestowed upon him; but the other silver pot the spectre commands him upon pain of death not to look into, but to take it and carry it into Wales, to Mrs. Betty, his master's daughter; and told him that when he landed in such a place as he assigned him, he would meet him, and deliver him a further message; and he should dispatch all in ten days time; but bid him look to it that he did not so much as peep into that silver pot he was to carry over to her, for it was as much as his life was worth. Young Chamberlain fairly

promised to perform all that was en joined him, and at parting the old spectre tells him, "In the fourth and undermost box there are two cups of very precious stones inchased in gold; take them also, for I freely give them to thee, and so, good night."

Chamberlain was glad he was rid of the spectre's company, and goes to his rest, and the next morning acquaints his master with the last night's adventure; his master bids him do as he was commanded, and had promised.

Accordingly, he gets into the parlour where he was directed, breaks up the boards of the planking, and finds all that the spectre had discovered to him. He had in money near 12001. besides the other goods, pots, and cups, of which we shall here more anon. Never did any fellow's teeth water more after a sweet bit, than Chamberlain's eye did to be looking into the forbidden silver pot; but the fear of the spectre's menaces awed him, and kept him, much against his will, within bounds, though a hundred times a day he would be piddling about it, to see what was in it. However, at last he takes the pot, goes into a boat, crosseth over the barr at Barnstable and the Severn into Wales, and arrives at the place of the interview with the old apparition, which was about two miles and a half from the shore. At their first meeting, the spectre is very froward and angry, and tells him chidingly, "Sirrah, thou hast an earnest longing to be looking into this pot." "Not I," saith Chamberlain. "Nay, Sirrah, but thou hast," saith the spec tre, "and therefore do not lie to me, but get presently unto thy master's daughter, and declare to her that mes

sage

which I now tell thee, and take to her the pot." What this message was (though he was earnestly importuned by Madam Fortescue, the widow of John Fortescue, of Sprindlestone, in the Parish of Brixton, in the County of Devonshire, Esq.; from whom I had this relation in the year 1668, having been minister of that parish, to whom the aforesaid Chamberlain was steward of his manor, in the town and parish of Collumpton in the same County) he never would discover, but

craved the lady's excuse, because he had married the sister of her to whom he was to carry the silver pot, and he said it would cast a reproach upon his wife's blood and family. But to go on with the story, Chamberlain had a scrupulous conscience, and puts this case to the devil, "But what if Mrs. Betty won't take the pot?"—"Then," saith the spectre, "leave it with her; and tell her from me, that it were better she had and did take it, for she shall hear further from me.'

Concerning this Mrs. Betty (by the way) she was the dearest of her father's children, who was exceeding fond of her; but she having got a great belly without a husband, in her father's house, her parents very severely reproved her for her great sin against God and her own soul, and the scandal to religion, and infamy to their family. She, after she had gotten it away, as before you have heard, quits her father's house, withdraws herself from her relations, and lives privately in Wales for about seven years, upon a portion that had been left her by her aunt or grandmother.

Well, Mr. Chamberlain, the next morning, betwixt five and six, comes to her house, knocks at the door, and down comes a young gentlewoman of about 27, with her breasts naked, her hair disheveled in a very forlorn and disconsolate condition, asks him what his business is; to whom Chamberlain replies, "Mrs. Betty, I am commanded to deliver you such a message from a spirit that hath appeared to me;" and he then tells her what was given' him in charge, and delivers her the pot. She refuseth to take it; he tells her she must; she tells him she will not, but he must carry it to him from whom he had it. Chamberlain then replies, "Mrs. Betty, if you do not take it, it will be so much the worse for you, for I am ordered to leave it with you." With that fetching a deep sigh, and smiting her breasts, "Alas!" said she, "it was not for nothing that I have been so troubled this night, I was born to be miserable;" and so, without enquiring for her parents, or inviting him to drink, she takes the silver pot, and gets up into