[]THE Hiſtory and Reality OF APPARITIONS.

CHAP. I. Of Apparitions in particular, the Reality of them, their Antiquity, and the Diffe⯑rence between the Apparitions of former Times, and thoſe which we may call Modern; with ſomething of the Reaſon and Occaſion of that Difference.

NOTHING can be a ſtronger Teſtimony of the Reality of Apparitions in General, than to deſcend to the particular Appearances which we are aſſur'd have been ſeen and convers'd with from the ſuperior World. And firſt I begin with ſuch as have been evidently from Heaven it ſelf, and by the ſoveraign Appointment of Providence upon extraor⯑dinary Occaſions. And tho' I ſhall trouble my Rea⯑ders with as little as poſſible out of Scripture, eſ⯑pecially at the Beginning of my Work, becauſe I am unwilling they ſhould throw it by, before they read it out, which there would be ſome Danger of, if I ſhould begin too grave!

YET, as I cannot go back to Originals, or be⯑gin at the Beginning, without a little Hiſtory out of thoſe ancient Times, you muſt bear with my juſt naming the Sacred Hiſtorians. I'll be as ſhort as I can.

NOTHING is more certain, if the Scripture is at all to be believed among us, than that GOD him⯑ſelf was pleaſed, in the Infancy of Things, to ap⯑pear Viſibly, and in Form, to ſeveral Perſons, and [9] on ſeveral Occaſions, upon Earth; aſſuming or taking up the Shape of his Creature Man, when he thought fit to converſe with him, that he might not be a Terror to him.

THUS Adam was frequently viſited in Eden, and we have no room to doubt but it was in a viſible Form, becauſe Adam both heard him ſpeak, and as the Text ſays, They heard the Voice of the Lord God walking in the Garden in the Cool of the Day. Gen. iii. 8.

BY all the Hiſtory of the Antediluvean World, we have reaſon to believe, that as God did fre⯑quently ſpeak to Men, ſo he as frequently appear'd to them; for we find they converſed with God Face to Face. Cain, tho' wicked, talk'd with GOD, and GOD with him, when he was charg'd with the Mur⯑ther of his Brother Abel; and the Text is expreſs, Gen. iv. 16. that after it, Cain went out from the Preſence of the Lord. So that God not only ſpoke to him by a voice, but was Viſible and Preſent to him.

AND as I muſt carry the Devil along with me, hand in hand, in every Period of Time, ſo even in Paradiſe the Devil aſſum'd a Shape. For we muſt allow Satan to be a Spirit, and indeed, we have good reaſon to ſay he is a Spiri [...], free to CHUSE what Caſe of Fleſh and Blood he pleaſes to put on, or at leaſt ſeemingly to put on.

THUS he without doubt ſpoke in the Mouth of the Serpent in the Garden, or elſe took upon him⯑ſelf that Shape, tho' the former is the moſt proba⯑ble; becauſe the Serpent was curſt for being but the Inſtrument, however paſſive he might be.

MR. MILTON makes no doubt of the Devil's aſſuming a Shape of any kind, Beaſt as well as Man, when he brings him in whiſpering to Eve in her Sleep, and placing himſelf cloſe at her Ear, in the Shape of a Toad, which he expreſſes in his Sublime [10] Poem, and with that inimitable Manner, pe⯑culiar to himſelf.

FIRST he brings Satan leaping over the Mound or Fence, which God had placed round the Gar⯑den, as a Wolf leaps over the Hurdles into a Sheep-fold; and being gotten into Paradiſe, he places himſelf upon the Tree of Life, in the Shape of a Raven or Cormorant. There's the Devil's firſt Apparition.

THENCE he views the whole Garden, and all the Creatures in it, and at laſt he ſpies Adam and Eve, to his great Surpriſe. But after a while ſpent in admiring their Form, their Beauty, Felicity and Innocence, as he reſolv'd to ruin them, ſo he comes down from the Tree to be nearer them; and mixing among the Cattle, where he takes upon him now one Shape, then another, as it beſt ſuited him, to be near Adam and Eve, and yet to be unperceived by them; this the Poet deſcribes thus;

Again, when he makes the Angels find Satan, as I have obſerved, whiſpering evil Thoughts to Eve in a Dream, and in her Sleep, he ſays,

'TIS evident then, that the Devil can aſſume a Shape, whether of Man or Beaſt, and appear as ſuch, in order to diſguiſe himſelf from our Sight. We ſhall have a farther Account of him preſently, but in the mean time let us ſee higher, and go into the After-Ages.

ABRAHAM is the firſt Example, after Noah, of an open Converſe with his Maker; and the Scripture diſtinguiſhes the very manner; ſometimes 'tis ſaid, that the Lord had ſaid to Abram, Gen. xii. 1. and again, the Lord ſaid to Abram, Gen. xiii. 14. again The Word of the Lord came to Abram, and the Word of the Lord came to Abram in a Viſion. Gen. xv. 1. 4, to the 7th.

BUT there are other expreſs Places in which it is ſaid in plain Words, God appeared to him. Gen. xii. 7. The Lord appear'd unto Abram: and Gen. xvii. 1. The Lord appeared to Abram, and ſaid unto him: and ver. 22. And he left off talking with him, and God went up from Abraham. 'Tis undeniable that God appeared, and was with him, and left off talking with him, and went from him: all Marks of a viſi⯑ble Apparition.

AGAIN, Chap. xviii. here it is ſtill more ex⯑plicit, and God not only appeared, but appeared in a Human Shape. Ver. 1. And the Lord appeared to him in the Plains of Mamre, as he ſat in the Door of his Tent. Firſt 'tis ſaid, he lift up his Eyes and looked, and behold, three Men ſtood by him. So viſible were they, that he entertains them, [12] invites them to Dinner, and prepares a fat Calf to be dreſs'd, and Cakes, and Butter, and Milk. In ſhort, he made a Feaſt; ſo much was he, as it may be ſaid, deluded; ſo real was the Appearance; nay, when he ſat it all before them, 'tis ſaid thy DID EAT.

NOW, ver. 13. 'tis ſaid expreſly one of theſe was the LORD; nay, in the Original it is JEHOVAH; that was when he charg'd Sarah with laughing, and ſhe deny'd it.

N. B. Sarah was the firſt of Human Kind, that ever told GOD a LYE to his Face. But ſhe was frighted, that's certain; the Text ſays ſo.

IN the 17th Verſe, when God tells Abraham what he had reſolv'd to do to Sodom; 'tis plain, he ſpeaks in the firſt Perſon as God; And the Lord ſaid, ſhall I hide from Abraham the thing that I do? Hereupon Abraham takes upon him to plead with God in be⯑half of Sodom; and in this he ſpeaks as to God him⯑ſelf, ver. 30. O let not the Lord be angry, and I will ſpeak: and before that, ver. 27. Behold now I have taken upon me to ſpeak unto the LORD, which am but Duſt and Aſhes.

THUS I think 'tis evident, that God himſelf did appear in Humane Shape to Abraham, and that more than once. The next Chapter is as plain, that he did the ſame to LOT; or if it ſhould be obje⯑cted that it is not ſo clear that it was God himſelf, it was two Angels; tho' Interpreters do generally agree, that it was Chriſt himſelf, who is called an Angel, the Angel of the Covenant. But if that were doubtful, then it will ſtill be allow'd that it was an Apparition of Angels in Human Shape, which will ſtand good in my next Article.

BUT as I am upon the Higheſt and Supreme Inſtances firſt, I muſt finiſh it by two particular [13] Quotations, which cannot be diſputed. (1.) One is of Jacob, Gen. xxxii. 24. There wreſtled a man with him: and ver. 28. the Man is ſaid to be GOD him⯑ſelf, as a Prince haſt thou Power with GOD, and haſt prevail'd: and ver. 30. after he had bleſſed him, Jacob call'd the Place Peniel, that is the Face of GOD. For, ſays he, I have ſeen GOD Face to Face. Again Jacob ſays, Gen. xlviii. 3. God Almighty ap⯑peared to me at Luz in the Land of Canaan, and bleſ⯑ſed me.

(2.) BUT there is yet a ſtronger Teſtimony than all this, for it is ſpoken from the Mouth of GOD himſelf upon a very particular Occaſion, which was to honour Moſes, and eſtabliſh him in the Reve⯑rence and Regard of the People, when the Se⯑venty Men or Elders were appointed to take Part of his Work off his Hands, and judge of ſmaller Matters among the People; which is nobly ex⯑preſs'd, Numb. xi. 17. They ſhall bear the Burthen of the People with thee. In the next Chapter Miriam, and even Aaron himſelf, ſpake againſt Moſes; that is in ſhort roſe in Rebellion; and God, to honour his Servant, tells them how he had, and would diſtin⯑guiſh Moſes from all the reſt. ver. 8. With him will I ſpeak Mouth to Mouth, even APPARENTLY, and not in Dark Speeches, and the Similitude of the LORD ſhall be BEHOLD.

HERE is a poſitive Declaration from Heaven, that GOD would appear viſibly to Moſes; the like Inſtance is not to be ſeen in the whole Bible. The Word Apparently is plain, it can be no otherwiſe underſtood, without groſs Equivocating with the Text.

COME we next to the Times of our Bleſſed Sa⯑viour, and there we have two eminent Appear⯑ances within the Compaſs of our preſent Argu⯑ment.

[14] 1. THE HOLY GHOST appearing in the Shape of a Dove.

2. THE Appearance of JESUS CHRIST after his Reſurrection, when in the glorify'd Body where⯑with he aſcended; and that this was an Apparition, is plain, from the ſeveral Circumſtances of his Ap⯑pearance.

FIRST, When he join'd the two Diſciples go⯑ing to Emaus: that he appear'd as a Man, the Text is plain from his walking with them, and Diſcourſe to them; and that it was but an Apparition is alſo plain. Luke xxiv. 16. Their Eyes were holden that they ſhould not know him: and ver. 31. when their Eyes were opened to know him he vaniſhed out of their Sight.

SECONDLY, When he appear'd to Mary Mag⯑dalen at the Sepulchre, but forbad her to touch him, John xx. 17. And again ver. 19. when he came into the Room where the Diſciples were aſſembled, and when the Doors were ſhut, and ſaid, Peace be unto to you. Thus it is evident Chriſt has appear'd, and he has told us he ſhall appear again, coming in the Clouds of Heaven; and we look for that bleſſed Hope, and glorious Appearing.

THUS then you have GOD himſelf, Father, Son and Holy Ghoſt, appearing in diſtinct Times, in ſe⯑veral Shapes or Forms of Appearance, all giving Teſtimony in general to the Reality of this Truth, That Spirits can aſſume Humane or other Shapes, and be made viſible to Mankind; and this is what we call Apparition.

HAVING thus brought an Inſtance of the moſt exalted Kind, even the Appearance or Apparition of God himſelf, 'tis needful to ſtate a little the Difference between thoſe Appearances, and that which we are now to diſcourſe of.

'TIS an Objection natural to the Caſe in hand, We do not queſtion, much leſs enquire, whether [15] infinite Power, to whom all things are not poſſible only, but eaſy, can aſſume a Humane Shape, or any other; and appear, when, where, how, and in what Form he thinks fit; and that he has, or may have ſo appeared. But there is a manifeſt Difference between what God is able, or may pleaſe to do up⯑on extraordinary Occaſions, and what any of his Creatures may or can do.

BESIDES 'tis evident, or at leaſt we have rea⯑ſon to believe, that God himſelf did appear in thoſe Times upon thoſe extraordinary Occaſions only, and that he has never appear'd ſince; except that ſhould be call'd an Appearance or Apparition which ſpoke to St. Paul at his Converſion, when it is ex⯑preſly ſaid, he ſaw a Light, and heard a Voice, but ſaw no Man; tho' afterwards he calls it ſeeing him, 1 Cor. xv. 8. Laſt of all he was ſeen of me alſo. Where⯑as St. Paul, we all know, did ſpeak there of ſeeing Chriſt in the Fleſh, while he was on Earth. But I ſay, except this, we have no Example of any Appearance of the Divine Majeſty in Humane Shape, or in any other manner whatſoever.

THAT therefore we muſt diſtinguiſh this from the Subject we are now entering upon, for [...]hat the Appearances of God are extremely different from the Apparitions of Creatures, whether Angels, Devils, or Souls of Men. That the Queſtion is not, Whe⯑ther God can do this or that; but, Whether the Spi⯑rits, Spirits Inferior, can do it: and, which is yet more to our Purpoſe, Suppoſe it has been ſo for⯑merly, and in ancient times, whether they do con⯑tinue to do ſo ſtill, or have power to do it, let the Occaſion be what it will.

THUS the Enquiry is reduc'd to a narrower Compaſs. I take upon me the Affirmative; and we are now to look back into Time for the Confirma⯑tion or Proof of it, and by enquiring what has been, inform our ſelves of what may be, is, or is to be expected, as occaſion may require.

[16] AND firſt to deſcribe the Thing, and explain what is generally underſtood by the Apparition of Spirits; that I may not hold you in Suſpence, or Criticiſe upon the bare Words Spirit and Appari⯑tion, I come plainly to the Meaning, as I am to be underſtood in this Work: By Apparition of Spi⯑rits, then, I mean, when the Inviſible Inhabitants of the unknown World, be they who they will, aſſume Humane Shapes, or other Shapes, and ſhow themſelves viſibly to us, ſo as that we can ſee them, ſpeak to them, hear them ſpeak, and the like.

THIS is what our People vulgarly call Walking; and when any ſuch thing appears, they know not what otherwiſe to call it, they ſay Something walks; and if it be the Appearance of any known Perſon lately dead, they ſay Such a one Walks.

THUS I lay every thing down with the utmoſt plainneſs, that I may leave the Reader in no Un⯑certainty about my Meaning in the Subject I am upon, or give room for Cavilings or Diſputings at either the Thing it ſelf, or the manner of Ex⯑preſſing ti.

ASKING Pardon for giving this Looſe to m [...] Thoughts, I return to the Subject, left I ſhoul [...] be but an Apparition my ſelf.

THE Apparitions I am to ſpeak of are theſe.

1. THE Appearance of Angels.

2. OF Devils.

3. OF the departed Souls of Men.

[17] THESE are thoſe, who we mean by the Inhabi⯑tants of the Inviſible World, or Worlds; the World of Spirits, and the Superior Beings, who are ſaid to converſe with the Spirits embodied, by Viſion or Apparition, or any other Superior Way.

BY Apparition alſo I am to underſtand ſuch Ap⯑pearances of theſe ſuperior Beings as are Spontane⯑ous and Voluntary, or at leaſt ſo far as relates to us; that is to ſay, I diſtinguiſh between thoſe Apparitions which appear of their own accord, or by ſuperior Miſſion and Authority; and thoſe which that dark Race of People among us, who would be call'd Ma⯑gicians, talk of; Spirits, or things call'd Spirits, which are raiſed, as we fooliſhly call it, by the Arts of Men; by Witchcraft, Sorcery, Magick, and ſuch other Infernal Arts, as are, or have been made uſe of for that Purpoſe; and by which they tell us Spi⯑rits are call'd down from the ſuperior Regions (o [...] where-ever their Abode has been) to ſhow them⯑ſelves viſibly, ſpeak to, and converſe with Man⯑kind, anſwer Queſtions, foretel Events, and the like; as Samuel is ſaid to be brought to appear to Saul, 1 Sam. xxviii. 14. How far theſe Magicians, Witches, and other Dealers in theſe dark Things, [...]ave or have not Power to cauſe ſuch Appearan⯑ [...]es, and to ſorm Apparitions; and how far they [...]mpoſe upon, and delude the World in it, That I may ſpeak of by it ſelf, and indeed it well deſerves Conſideration. But for the preſent, I ſay, I am talk⯑ [...]ng of another Kind of Apparitions.

CHAP. II. Of the Appearance of Angels immediately in Miſſion as from Heaven; and why we are to ſuppoſe thoſe kinds of Apparitions are at an End.

THAT Angels have appeared to Men, we have abundant Teſtimony in the Hiſtories of Times Paſt, as well Sacred as Prophane; nor ſhall I ſpend one Moment of your Time to examine, or confirm it, except as it comes neceſſarily in by the occaſion of other Diſcourſe: For it is not the Appearance of Angels as ſuch, but the Appearance of Angels in the Shape of Men, that is the preſent Enquiry.

THAT this has been, is evident, and in general the Scripture gives this Teſtimony to it: when the Apoſtle adviſes to Hoſpitality, and to entertain Strangers, he adds, For thereby ſome have entertain'd Angels unawares. Heb. xiii. 2. This muſt be meant of Angels in Humane Shape, otherwiſe the hoſpi⯑table Perſon could not be miſtaken in ſuch a manner: Beſides, it plainly refers to Abraham, Gen. xviii. 1. ſitting in the Door of his Tent, ver. 2. three Men ſtood by him; two of theſe were certainly Angels; who the third was, I have ſhewn already. It may likewiſe include Lot, in whoſe Story, Gen. xix. it is expreſs'd, ver. 1. that they were two Angels, and ver. 8. Lot calls them theſe Men, and ver. 10, 12, 16. they are called the Men; ſo that LOT believ'd them to be Men only, and as ſuch he not only in⯑vited them unto his Houſe, ver. 2. but he made them a Feaſt, and they did eat, ver. 3.

[19] THESE Apparitions of Angels, in the Shape of Men, are undeniable on other Occaſions; but when they appear as Angels, it is ſaid ſo plainly, and in ſo many Words; as in the Caſe of Abraham, when he was going to offer his Son Iſaac, Gen. xxii. 11. The Angel of the Lord called to Abraham out of Hea⯑ven; and again ver. 15. The Angel of the Lord called the ſecond time.

THERE are innumerable Examples of Angels appearing as Angels; but we are upon the Ap⯑pearance of Angels as Men, and in the Shape and Habit of Men. The next Inſtance is, of an Angel appearing to Joſhua, and who is called the Captain of the Lord's Hoſt, Joſh. v. 13. Joſhua looked, and behold there ſtood a Man over-againſt him, with a Sword drawn in his Hand. Immediately Joſhua, Sol⯑dier-like, gives him the qui vive, or in Engliſh, who are you for? art thou for us, or for our Adverſaries? and the Spectre or Apparition ſpoke immediately again, ver. 14. and then Joſhua perceived that it was not a Man, but an Angel in Apparition; and in the Heads or Contents of the Chapter, 'tis ex⯑preſly ſaid, an Angel appears to Joſhua.

ANOTHER Example is, of the Angel that ap⯑pear'd to Manoah the Father of Sampſon; his Wife indeed calls him a Man of God, and that he ap⯑pear'd to her; but ſays, that his Countenance was like an Angel of God, very terrible; Judges xiii. 6. But ſtill when he appear'd a ſecond time, it was in the Shape of a Man, or elſe why did Manoah de⯑ſire him to ſtay 'till he could dreſs a Kid for him? and the Words are expreſs, ver. 16. He knew not that it was an Angel of the Lord.

THERE are other Examples in Scripture, where the Angels have appeared in Humane Shape, and convers'd with Men upon Earth, beſides ſuch as have appear'd in their real Angelick Form as An⯑gels. How and in what they were known to be [20] Angels, in what Form they have been ſeen, and in what Voice they ſpoke, is not diſcover'd to us in the Scripture. Some are of Opinion, that even thoſe Angels appear'd in the Shape of Men, and cloathed as Men; as the Angel that met Balaam with a flaming Sword in his Hand; the Angels which Jacob ſaw aſcending and deſcending on the Ladder; the Angels that ſpoke to Zacharias in the Temple, to the Virgin Mary in the Chamber, and that ſat in the Sepulchre after Chriſt was riſen, and asked the Diſciples, why ſeek ye the Living among the Dead? and ſo in ſeveral Caſes: All that can be anſwer'd is, that the Text call'd them Angels, and ſo far we are not to doubt it; but I muſt alſo al⯑low, that they ſeem to me to have been in the Figure of Men; as for thoſe in the Sepulchre, St. Luke ſays expreſly, they ſaw two Men in ſhining Garments, Luke xxiv. 4. and in the ſame Chapter, ver. 23. 'tis ſaid, they had ſeen a Viſion of Angels.

THUS far it relates to good Angels, ſuch as have been ſeen on Earth in Apparition, but have made ſuch an Appearance by vertue of the ſuperior Miſſion, as the Angel Gabriel, who tells Zacharias, I am ſent to ſpeak unto thee.

THAT theſe have upon many occaſions been ſeen in Humane Shape is evident; and tho' much more time might be ſpent upon the Proof, I think 'tis needleſs; indeed the Evidence is ſufficient.

THERE is a Queſtion ſtill remaining, relating to this Part, (viz.) How comes it to paſs that all this is ceaſed, and that the Angels have done coming, or are no more ſent of ſuch Errands? but that all the Angels we have any Account of in theſe Days, are of a worſe kind, and generally come upon worſe Errands? and which particular Obſer⯑vation is the very reaſon of our Doubts, whether the Appearance of the other is real or not.

[21] THIS Queſtion might be anſwer'd many Ways, but 'tis too grave for the Times; and as we are not writing Divinity, I ſhall not load you with ſerious Points: The ſhort Account of it is this: We have now a more ſure Word of Prophecy: (that is) that ſince the Preaching of the Goſpel, and the Revelation of God by a written Word, there is no more need of what the Text calls a miniſtra⯑tion of Angels. The Scripture is a daily Revelation, and the Spirit of God, who is promiſed to lead us, is a daily Inſpiration, there is no more need of Viſion and Apparition; and this is that glorious Dif⯑ference between the Revelations of thoſe Days, and theſe of ours, and the reaſon of the Difference between the Apparitions of theſe Times and of thoſe.

WHEN I am ſpeaking things ſerious, I am to ſpeak very ſhort, that I may not ſhock your rea⯑ding; the Taſte of the Times happening at this Jun⯑cture to lye another way: but my next Article per⯑haps may make you amends, I mean the Appear⯑ance of the grand Arch-Angel of all, and, as I ſup⯑poſe, the only Arch-Angel out of Heaven, namely the Devil.

CHAP. III. Of the APPEARANCE of the DEVIL in Humane Shape.

PRAY obſerve, when I am ſpeaking of the Ap⯑pearance of the Devil, it is not to tell you that he can and does appear among us at this time; ſo you need not look over your Shoulders to ſee for him, or at the Candles, to ſee [22] if they burn BLUE, at leaſt not yet; 'tis time enough for that by and by.

BUT I am examining now the matter of Fact only, as (1.) Whether the Devil can appear here, yea or no; whether he is allow'd to come, that his Chain reaches ſo far, and that his Tether is long enough? alſo, (2.) Whether he is ever ſent or directed to come, or that he comes of his own accord, and a⯑bout his own Buſineſs? And as all theſe will lead me to enquire what has been; from thence we may beſt judge, what is, or may be.

THAT he has upon ſpecial Occaſions appear'd in former Times is certain, as well from Scripture as ancient Hiſtory, and a ſmall Retroſpect will ſatisfie you in that Point. If it appears that he has been here, then 'tis very probable his Chain is long e⯑nough, and that he is allow'd the Liberty to come ſo far from Home. For we have no Authority to ſay, or to believe, that his Tether is ſhorten'd, or that he is more reſtrain'd now than ever he was before.

HIS entring the Garden of God in the begin⯑ning of Time, and the Havock he made there, the turning Adam and Eve out, and even turning the whole frame of Nature upſide down by his vile Doings there; all this I have mention'd: But we have more yet to ſay of him; for he is ſtill in Being, and ſtill the ſame malicious Devil, the ſame De⯑ſtroyer and Accuſer that ever he was; the Flame of Fire ſet to guard the Garden, did not burn him; the Deluge didn't drown him: Nor has Juſtice thought fit yet to take him into its Iron Hands, tho' it will certainly do it at laſt; and, as the Scri⯑pture ſays in another Caſe, his Damnation ſlum⯑bereth not; for Juſtice is truly repreſented

[23] THE firſt time we meet with the Devil's per⯑ſonal Appearance upon Earth, I mean after the Flood, is in the Story of Job; nor by all the Cal⯑culations of Times, which the learned Chronolo⯑gers of thoſe Days have made, could that be long after it; for Eliphaz the Temanite could not be far⯑ther off than the Grandſon of Eſau, or thereabouts. Gen. xxxvi. 11.

IN Job's Time, the Text ſays that the Sons of God came to preſent themſelves before the Lord, and Satan came alſo among them. So that it ſeems the Angel of Light was dreſs'd up like the Sons of GOD, even in thoſe ancient Days; and it is not likely that this was the firſt Time neither: Again, it ſeems by the Text, that tho' GOD himſelf might know Satan in that Diſguiſe, yet the People, among whom he came, did not know him.

THE Anſwer likewiſe which he makes to the Que⯑ſtion, implies ſtrongly, that Satan had been wont to walk among thoſe Sons of God in Diſguiſe long before that; for when God ſa [...]s to him, whence comeſt thou? his Anſwer ſeems to be a kind of gene⯑ral, I come from following my known Buſi⯑neſs, my old Trade; doeſt thou know I am a roar⯑ing Lion, and doeſt thou ask me whence I come? Why, I come from ſeeking who I may devour, ranging the World, going to and fro in the Earth, and walking up and down in this Diſguiſe, as thou now ſeeſt me, that I may do all the Miſchief I can.

GOD'S Return again to Satan confirms it, as if the Lord had ſaid; Well, Satan, then thou muſt have ſeen my Servant Job? Haſt thou conſider'd him, that there is none like him in the Earth?

THE Devil makes an Anſwer that implies he knew Job very well. Do I know him to be a good Man! yes: But then I know him to be a rich Man too: 'Tis an eaſy thing for a Man to be honeſt, that is ſo rich; he can have no room for asking [24] more: What ſhould he ſteal for, or be a Knave for, that is the richeſt Man in the World? What ſhould he covet, that has no room for Deſire? But if thou haſt a Mind to try his Honeſty, and his Piety, his Fear of thee, and his Hatred of Evil, blaſt his Wealth, and take his prodigious Flocks and Herds of Cattle away; level him, bring him to be like other Men in Riches, and reduce him to Beggary, and then ſee if he won't be like other Men in Crime; nay, he'll be raging and furious, and curſe thee to thy Face.

THIS, tho' it may ſeem remote, is to my Pur⯑popſe thus: it ſhows that the Devil was no Stran⯑ger among the People. He had walk'd up and down in Diſguiſe, ſo as to know them all, and their Circumſtance; He had been dreſs'd up like one of the reſt in Human Shape, ſo that he could not be known from the very beſt of Men, no not from the Sons of God.

SOME are of Opinion, by the Sons of God there, is meant the patriarchal Heads of Families, who had, in right of Primogeniture, the Prieſthood in Courſe, and were the only Sacrificers at that Time, as Abra⯑ham, and as Job were; ſo that in ſhort Satan has long ago dreſs'd himſelf in the Habit of the Clergy. Bleſs us all! we hope he does not do ſo ſtill; for if the Devil ſhould put on the Gown and Caſſock, or the black Cloak, or the Coat and the Cord, and be walking about the World in that Diſguiſe now, how eaſily may we be cheated, and miſtake the Sons of God for the Prince of Darkneſs? and how could we tell one from t'other? But of that here⯑after.

CHAP. IV. Of the Apparition of Spirits Unembodied, and which never were Embodied; not ſuch as are vulgarly called Ghoſts, that is to ſay, departed Souls returning again and appear⯑ing viſibly on Earth, but Spirits of a ſupe⯑rior and angelick Nature; with an Opinion of another Species.

THERE appears a Qu [...]ſ [...]ion here in the very Beginning of the Debate, which will be ve⯑ry hard to decide, and perhaps impoſſible: How⯑ever, that we may not ſtumble at the Threſhold, I will touch it as gently, and yet as clearly as I can. The Queſtion is this; Whether are there any Spirits inhabiting the inviſible World, which have never yet been embodied, and yet are not to be reckon'd of the Species of Angels Good or Bad?

BY Angels Good and Bad, I ſuppoſe I may be eaſily unde [...]ſtood to mean what you all think you mean when you ſort or rank them into only two Kinds, viz. Angels or Devils; in which vulgar and gene⯑ral, not to ſay fooliſh way of expreſſing it, I hum⯑bly conceive the ſelf-wiſe World much miſtaken. It is true it is a Speculation, and every one is at Liberty to think for themſelves, and among them ſo am I; in which, tho' I have a better Opinion of my own Judgment than always to ſacrifice it to vulgar Notions, and that too at the Price of my Reaſon; yet I have withal ſo little Pride, and ſo mean an Opinion of my own Thoughts, that I ſhall not venture to advance any thing, in a Caſe ſo ex⯑ceedingly liable to Cavil and Exception.

TWO Places in Scripture ſpeak of Angels in a dif⯑ferent Style from the ordinary and uſual way of underſtanding [26] the Word. Mat. xviii. 10. ſpeaking of little Children, Chriſt ſays, that in Heaven their An⯑gels do always behold the Face of my Father which is in Heaven: the other is Acts xii. 15. when Peter knock'd at the Door where the Diſciples were ga⯑ther'd together, and they believing him to be in Chains, and in the Priſon, ſaid it is his Angel.

THE learned Expoſitors and Annotators ex⯑tremely differ upon the Meaning of theſe Texts, and 'tis not my Buſineſs here to reconcile them. Some will have it to mean nothing but a kind of an Exclamation or Admiration; What can it be! is it an Angel! And of the firſt, about Children, they ſay it only intimates, that their Souls, when glorify'd, ſhall always, if they go away in Peace, behold the Face of GOD in Heaven.

OTHERS run out to an imaginary Scheme of Guardian Angels attending every Man and Woman while they are upon Earth; a Notion ſo uncertain, if granted, and that has ſo many Difficulties to re⯑concile, before it can be believed, that 'tis much better to leave it where it is, and which I ſhall ex⯑plain preſently a much eaſier Way.

NOW, I ſay, 'tis not my preſent Buſineſs to re⯑concile theſe diſtant and claſhing Opinions, at leaſt not in this Work. I have ſtarted a Queſtion; poſſi⯑bly my Opinion is with the affirmative, at leaſt I think it poſſible, and that it is Rational to believe it; perhaps I may name you as improbable a Notion, and much more inconſiſtent with the Chriſtian Religion, which yet Philoſophy bids us call rational, and directs us to believe.

HOW are we put to it to form Inhabitants for the Planetary Worlds: Philoſophy ſays they are ha⯑bitable Bodies, ſolid, opaac, as this Earth, and we will have them be inhabited alſo, whether it be with or without, for or againſt our Reaſon and Un⯑derſtanding; 'tis no Satisfaction to them, or will it [27] ſtop their Cavils, to ſay 'tis not Fact; that they are not habitable; that both Saturn and Jupiter are un⯑comfortably dark, unſufferably cold, would congeal the very Soul (if that were poſſible) and ſo are not habi⯑table on that Account; that Mercury and Venus are inſufferably hot, that the very Water would always boyl, the Fire burn up the Vitals; and that, in ſhort, no human Creatures could ſubſiſt in ſuch Heat: But this is not ſatisfactory neither; but rather than not have all thoſe opaac Worlds be inhabited, and even their Satellites or Moons about them too, they will have God be obliged to create a Species of Bo⯑dies ſuitable to their ſeveral Climates.

IN Saturn they are to live without Eyes, or be a Kind ſo illuminated from their own internal Heat and Light, that they can ſee ſufficiently by their own Beams.

IN Jupiter there muſt be another Kind, that can live in Twilight, and by the Reflection of its own Moons, and ſubſiſt in continued Froſt.

IN Mercury the Species muſt be all Salamanders, and live in the continued Fire of the Sun's Beams, more intenſe than what would be ſufficient to burn all our Houſes, and melt our Copper, Lead, and Iron in the very Mines; ſo the Inhabitants muſt be of a Kind better able to bear the Fire than thoſe Metals, and would ſtill live tho' they were continu⯑ally calcining if not vitrifying into Glaſs.

IN Venus the Heat would boil the Water, and con⯑ſequently the Blood in the Body, and a Set of hu⯑man Bodies muſt be form'd that could live always in a hot Bath, and neither ſweat out their Souls, or melt their Bodies.

IN Mars, ſo very dry in its Nature, no Vegetables or Senſatives could ſubſiſt that we have any Notion of, for want of Moiſture; and the Men that liv'd there muſt be dried up ſufficiently for pulverizing on any ſuitable Occaſion, I mean human Beings, and of our Species.

[28] NOW if God muſt not be ſuppoſed to have crea⯑ted ſo many habitable Bodies without peopling them, and that it would reflect upon his Wiſdom to lay ſo much of his Creation waſte; that all the Planets ſhould ſeem to be made for nothing but to range about the Waſte as a kind of dark Inhabitants; of no uſe but to ſhine a little, and that with but bor⯑row'd Beams too, upon this little Point called Earth, where only a Set of Rationals can exiſt; I ſay, if this muſt not be ſuppoſed, but on the con⯑trary there are certainly People of one Kind or another in all thoſe Bodies, let the Trouble of ma⯑king them be what it will; if this be the Caſe, and that this muſt be believed in ſpight of ſo ma⯑ny Difficulties and Inconſiſtencies; then allow me to argue a little upon the following Enquiry.

WHY may I not as well ſuggeſt, and that with every jot as much Probability, that there are, or at leaſt may be, a certain Number of appointed Inha⯑bitants in the vaſtly-extended Abyſs of Space, a kind of Spirits (other than the Angels good or bad, and other than the unembodied or uncaſed Souls of Men) who dwell in the inviſible World, and in the Vaſt No-where of unbounded Space, of which we can neither ſay what it is, what it contains, or how determined: That Great Waſte, of whoſe Extent 'tis hardly poſſible even the Soul itſelf can conceive, and of which all the Accounts we give, and Gueſſes we make, are ſo remote, look ſo Enthuſiaſtic, ſo improbable, and ſo like impoſſible, that inſtead of informing the ignorant Part of the World by it, we only arm them with Jeſt and Ridicule, and re⯑ſolve them into incurable Unbelief; depending that what it is not poſſible to Conceive of, is not poſſi⯑ble to Be.

NOW is this immenſe Space indeed a Void? is it all a Waſte? is it utterly deſolate? or is it inhabited and peopled by the Omnipotent Maker, in a manner [29] ſuited to his own Glory, and with ſuch Inhabitants as are ſpirituous, inviſible, and therefore perfectly proper to the Place?

I MUST needs ſay, 'tis much more rational to ſuggeſt this to be, than to bring out a Species of human bodies to live in the Intenſe Heat of Mer⯑cury, or the acute Cold of Jupiter and Saturn. The latter is agreeable to the general Underſtanding we all have of ſpirituous Beings: We are well aſ⯑ſured there are ſome always there, and that they can very well ſubſiſt there; that the Place is ſuit⯑able to them, and that there are Spirits of ſome Kind or other; and why not ſuch as we ſuggeſt?

IT remains then only to examine what Commu⯑nication theſe Spirits have with us, whether they are or are not able to hold Converſation with us, and whether they really do converſe familiarly with us, yea or no?

IF it ſhould be granted that there are ſuch Spi⯑rits in Being, and that they paſs and repaſs, exiſt, and have Egreſs and Regreſs there; that they inha⯑bit, as a certain bombaſtic Author has it,

I ſay, if this ſhould be granted, then it remains that here is a fourth Species that may aſſume Shapes; for Spirits may do that, and may appear among us, may converſe with our embodied Spirits, and from thoſe we may receive abundance of additional In⯑telligence from the World of Spirits, whether by Dream, Viſion, Appearance, or any ſuperior way, ſuch as to them in their great Knowledge of things ſhall ſeem meet. To ſpeak as diſtinctly of this nice Part as I can, admit me to explain my ſelf a little.

IF we grant that Spirit, tho' inviſible in it ſelf, may aſſume Shape, may veſt it ſelf ſo with Fleſh and Blood, that is ſeemingly, ſo as to form an Appearance, [30] then all Spitit may do it; ſince we have no Rule given us by which we may diſtinguiſh Spirits one from another, I mean as to their act⯑ings in the Capacity of Spirits: We may indeed, as I have ſaid already, diſtinguiſh them by the Ef⯑fect, that is to ſay, by the Errand they come on, and by the manner of their Operations, as whe⯑ther they are good or evil Spirits; but not by their Nature as Spirit. The Devil is as really a Spirit, tho' a degenerated, fallen, and evil Spirit, I ſay, he is as much a Spirit to all the In⯑tents and Purpoſes of a Spirit that we are capable to judge of, as an Angel; and he is called the evil Spirit; He has Inviſibility, and Multipreſence, as a Spirit has; he can appear tho' the Doors be ſhut; and go out, tho' bolted and barr'd in; no Priſon can hold him, but his laſt eternal Dungeon; no Chains can bind him, but the Chains faſten'd on him by Heaven, and the Angel of the bottom⯑leſs Pit; no Engine or human Art can wound him; in ſhort, he is neither to be ſeen, felt, heard, or underſtood, unleſs he pleaſes; and he can make him⯑ſelf be both ſeen and heard too, if he pleaſes; for he can aſſume the Shape and Appearance of Man or Beaſt, and in theſe Shapes and Appearances can make himſelf viſible to us, terrify and affright us, converſe in a friendly or in a frightful manner with us, as he thinks fit; he can be a Companion and Fellow-Traveller in the Day, an Apparition and a horrible Monſter in the Night: in a Word, he can be among us, and act upon, and with us, viſibly or inviſibly as he pleaſes, and as he finds for his purpoſe.

NOW if he does, and can do thus, meerly as he is a Spirit, and by his ſpiritual Nature, we have a great deal of Reaſon to believe, that all Spirit may do the ſame; or at leaſt I may ask, Why may not all Spirit do the ſame? and if there are any Kinds [31] of Spirit, as is not improbable, beſides thoſe we have hitherto conceiv'd of, they may be reaſonably ſup⯑poſed to be veſted with the ſame Powers, and may exert thoſe Powers in the ſame or a like manner.

IF any Man asks me how I make out the Pro⯑bability of theſe differing Species of Spirits? I an⯑ſwer as above, by this, That it appears there are inviſible Operations and a ſecret Converſe carried on among Men from the World of Spirits, where-ever that is, which cannot, at leaſt to our Underſtandings, b [...] ſuppoſed to be the Work either of thoſe particular or proper Angels which reſide in Heaven, or the in⯑fernal Angels either; that theſe Spirits, or if you pleaſe to call them Angels, appear and converſe for Good, and therefore may not be ſuppoſed to be the De⯑vil, or from the Devil: It is ſaid indeed, that they act by a viſible kind of Reſtraint, in doing Good with a ſort of an Imperfection and manifeſt Debility; ſo as ſometimes to act, as it were, to no purpoſe, being not able to make the Good they aim at effectual, and therefore cannot be from Heaven, the Foun⯑tain of Good; who, as he is Good, ſo he is in⯑finitely able to do all the Good that he appears willing to do: But this, I think, confirms rather than confutes my Opinion; for, it proves them to be ſent, and under particular Commiſſion; it only ſuggeſts, that 'tis probable there are Spirits who may be more confin'd and reſtrain'd in their Power of acting, ſome than others, and this is not at all inconſiſtent with the Nature of the thing.

THE great, and perhaps the ſtrongeſt Argu⯑ment which our learned Men produce for the Credit of their new Philoſophy is, that by this they can the better ſolve the Difficulties of ſeve⯑ral other Phoenomena, which before were hardly intelligible, or at leaſt which they could not ac⯑count for any other way.

[32] IN like manner, tho' the Certainty of my Sug⯑geſtion cannot be arrived to, or ſuppoſing it can⯑not, and that at beſt it is but a Speculation, ſcarcely can be called an Hypotheſis, and that no Evidence can be given fo [...] it, yet this muſt be ſaid of it, that by this Notion we may ſolve ſeveral other Difficulties which we cannot underſtand any other Way: ſuch as,

FIRST, HOW it is, and from whence, or by whoſe Agency we frequently receive ſuch kind No⯑tions of Good or Evil as 'tis certain we do, and yet without receiving any farther Aſſiſtance, which perhaps it is not in the Power of the kind Infor⯑mer to give us, either for the avoiding or embracing the Evil or the Good which they give us No⯑tice of?

WHAT can it be that communicates theſe ap⯑proaching diſtant things, and which it is ſo much our Intereſt and Concern to know? If it were an evil Spirit, I mean a Devil, as I have ſaid above, he would never concern himſelf ſo much for our Bene⯑fit, ſeeing he is known to will our Ruin to the ut⯑moſt of his Endeavour, and to wiſh us to fall into all poſſible Miſchief and Diſaſter.

ON the other hand, it cannot be from Heaven or from the Angels; for the Works of God are all, like himſelf, perfect, and he would not ſo far diſho⯑nour his Meſſengers, as to allow them, nay to ſend them (for they could never come unſent) to give us Notice of Evil, and yet take it out of our Power to avoid it; or to foretell good things at hand, and then give us no Power to embrace them, or to lay hold of them; and it would neither conſiſt with the infinite Goodneſs, or with the infinite Juſtice, to do thus by his Creatures.

BESIDES, 'tis a kind of incongruous acting, un⯑worthy of the ſupreme Power, unworthy an An⯑gel's appearing; it rather ſhews that it is the Product [33] of ſome intelligent Being, who tho' it means Good, and has a beneficent Nature that would contribute to our Safety and Proſperity if it could, yet is under ſome Limitations of its actings, is not able to proceed in the Good it has attempted, that can juſt do us ſo much Service as to give us Notice of what may await us behind the dark Curtain of Futurity; but has no Power to go any farther, or to give any Aſſiſtance to us in purſuing proper Me⯑thods for our Deliverance; no, not ſo much as to give Directions, much leſs Powers to act; as a Child diſcovering a Fire begun in a Houſe, may cry out and alarm the Family, but is able to do no more, no no [...] ſo much as to tell them where⯑about it is, or which way they ſhould go about to eſcape from it, much leſs to quench or prevent it.

THESE imperfect Notices, I ſay, ſeem to proceed from ſome good and kind Being, which is n [...]ar us, exiſting, tho' out of our Knowledge, yet not ſo remote, but that it is in Condition to ſee and know things good or evil, which tho' approaching, is yet out of our View, and which, if we could take the ſilent Hint, it might be infinitely for our Advantage, but is able to do no more.

NOW, if ſuch Notices, whether to the Mind by Dreams when aſleep, or by waking Impulſe, or by Voice, or by Apparation; if they were from Heaven they would never be ſo imperfect and unaſſiſting; we cannot ſuppoſe Heaven would concern itſelf to give us Notices of Danger impending, of Enemies [...]ying in wait, of Miſchiefs approaching, and would [...]hen leave us to fall into the Snare by an unavoid⯑ [...]ble Neceſſity.

AS to what theſe Spirits therefore are, where [...]hey reſide, what Circumſtances they are in, and [...]ow they have acceſs to our Underſtandings, I ac⯑ [...]nowledge the Difficulty to be great, and do not pre⯑ [...]nd to enter upon it here; that they may ſometimes [...]pear is not improbable: But I hope I may ſay, [34] that all Apparitions are not the Devil, nor yet may they be Angels immediately from Heaven, for ma⯑ny Reaſons.

FIRST, From the Meanneſs of the Occaſions, I mean of ſome of the Occaſions, on which theſe things happen. That there are Angels ſent from Heaven on particular Meſſages and Errands, to ful⯑fil the Mind and Will of their Maker and Sove⯑reign, all Men muſt grant; I have already prov'd it, and abundance of Examples may be given of it, be⯑ſides thoſe already named; but we never find thoſ [...] Angels coming upon trifling Errands, and for thing [...] of mean Import. The Angel of the LORD appear'd to Gideon at the Threſhing-floor, to ſummon hi [...] to the Deliverance of the whole Nation of ISRAEL [...] The Angel of the LORD appear'd to David wit [...] his drawn Sword, threatning Deſtruction of Jeru⯑ſalem: The Angels appear'd to the Shepherds to ſig⯑nify the Birth of CHRIST; as an Angel had don [...] to the Virgin to ſalute her, and tell her what grea [...] a Work was to be wrought in her: Angels ap⯑pear'd to miniſter to CHRIST after his Temp⯑tation in the Wilderneſs; and an Angel appear' [...] ſtrengthening him in his Agony, and Angels hav [...] appear'd on many other ſuch eminent Occaſions [...] but not except ſuch Occaſions were eminent, an [...] that particularly ſo.

But here you have an old Woman dead, one tha [...] it may be, has hid a little Money in the Orchard o [...] Garden; and an Apparition, is ſuppos'd, comes an [...] diſcovers it, by leading the Perſon it appears to to the Place, and making ſome Signal that h [...] ſhould dig there for ſomewhat; or a Man is dead and having left a Legacy to ſuch and ſuch, th [...] Executor does not pay it, and an Apparition com [...] and haunts this Executor 'till he does Juſtice. Is [...] likely an Angel ſhould be ſent from Heaven to fin [...] out the old Woman's e [...]then Diſh with thirty o [...] forty Shillings in it? or an Angel ſhould be ſent t [...] [35] harraſs this Man for a Legacy of perhaps five or ten Pounds? and as to the Devil, will any one charge Satan with being ſollicitous to have Juſtice done? they that know him at all, muſt know him better than to think ſo hardly of him.

WHO then muſt it be? and from whence? To ſay it is the Soul or Ghoſt of the departed Perſon, and that he could not be at reſt, 'till the injur'd Perſon be Righted, is advanc'd upon no Principle that is agreeable to the Chriſtian Doctrine at all; for if the Soul is happy, is it reaſonable to believe that the Felicity of Heaven can be interrupted by ſo trivial a Matter, and on ſo ſlight an Occaſion? if the Soul be unhappy, remember the great Gulph fix'd; there is no room for us to believe that thoſe miſerable Souls have any Leiſure or Liberty to come back upon Earth on an Errand of ſuch a Nature.

IN a word, there is nothing but Difficulty in it on every ſide: Apparitions there are, we ſee no room to doubt the Reality of that Part; but what, who, or from whence, is a Difficulty which I ſee no way to extricate our ſelves from, but by granting that there may be an appointed, deputed ſort of ſtationary Spi⯑rits in the inviſible World, who come upon theſe Oc⯑caſions, and appear among us; which Inhabitants or Spirits (you may call them Angels if you pleaſe) Bo⯑dies they are not, and cannot be, neither had they been ever embodied; but ſuch as they are, they have a Power of converſing among us, and particularly with Spirits embodied, and can by Dreams, Impulſes and ſtrong Averſions, move our Thoughts, and give Hope, raiſe Doubts, ſink our Souls to-day, elevate them to-morrow, and many ways operate upon our Paſ⯑ſions and Affections; may give Intimations of Good or Evil; but cannot, thro' ſome unknown Reſtraint upon their Power, go any farther, ſpeak any plainer, or give the leaſt Aſſiſtance to us, no, not by Council or Direction to guide us or tell us how to act for our own Preſervation.

[36] I AM told that theſe may be good Angels for all that, and that it is no juſt way of arguing, to ſay ſuch things are too trifling to ſend an Angel from Heaven upon ſo mean an Errand, and upon ſo in⯑conſiderable an Affair; ſince we ſee Providence daily giving Teſtimony, not of its Government only, but of its Care and Concern, in and about the meaneſt Affairs of Life: and that the Scri⯑pture it ſelf frequently gives Examples of it, in his feed [...]ng the Ravens, taking care of the Sparrows, clothing the Graſs of the Field, numbring the Hairs of our Head, &c. So that Infinite is not li⯑mited or ty'd up, to or from any degree of acting [...] Nor is there any thing great, or any thing ſma [...]l, but as God is ſeen [...]n his leaſt Creatures, Inſects, Mites, and the like; ſo he is active in the moſt trifling Event: Nor does that Providence, who yet pro⯑tects us in, and delivers us from Danger, always act [...] alike, but as the Sovereignty of his Actings is no [...] to be diſputed, ſo neither is his Wiſdom impeach'd by ſuff [...]ring Evil to fall upon Man, which the leaſt hint from his Light might have guided him to prevent.

I THINK this is the utmoſt that can be ſaid in the Caſe, and yet it does not reach us at all [...] for this is not the meaning of my Objection, n [...] nor is it the Subſtance of it; I am not ſpeaking o [...] Providence concerning it ſelf in the Care of i [...] Crea [...]ures, I acknowledge all that; but then this Pro⯑vidence acts in its own Way, and by its own inviſi⯑ble Operations; nor is there any occaſion for th [...] Agency of ſuch extraordinary Inſtruments, an [...] therefore it may be, that Angels are never ſent a [...] Expreſſes upon ſuch Things.

THE King or Government of a Nation may in⯑fluence the whole Body of the People, at what⯑ever Diſtance, by the Power of his Laws, directin [...] the Magiſtrates, and the Inferior Officers, to act i [...] [37] the Name of the Supreme; and this is done with⯑out any Step out of the ordinary way of the Admi⯑niſtration. But if any extraordinary Occ [...]ſion re⯑quire, then a Meſſenger is diſpatch'd with particu⯑lar Inſtructions, and [...]pecial Power, as the particular Caſe may require.

SO Providence, (which is, in a word, the admini⯑ſtration of Heaven's Government in the World) acts in its ordinary Courſe, and in the uſual Way, with an univerſal Influence upon all Things, and nothing is below its Concern; but when extraordi⯑nary Things preſent, then the particular expreſs Meſſengers from Heaven, (viz. the Angels) are ſent with Inſtructions on that particular Affair which they are diſp [...]tch'd about, and no other. And I may venture to ſay, theſe are never ſent upon Trifles, never ſent but on extraordinary Occaſion [...], and to execute ſome ſpecial Commiſſion; and this comes directly to the Caſe in hand.

IN the next Place I demand, when cou'd it be ſaid, or what Example can be given, where an Angel from Heaven has been ſent to give any par⯑ticular Perſon Notice of approaching Dangers, and at the ſame time left the Mind unalarm'd, and in a ſtate of Indolence, not capable of rouzing it ſelf up to ſhun and avoid the Danger threaten'd, or without Direction and Aſſiſtance to prevent or eſ⯑cape it; this is what I alledge is unworthy of the Divine Wiſdom and Goodneſs.

LOOK into all the Meſſages or Notices that have been given from Heaven on ſuch Occaſio [...]s, in all the Hiſtories of the Scripture, or almoſt [...]lſewhere, and you will ſee the difference evidently. Take a few for Example.

TWO Angels are ſent to Sodom, not only to de⯑ſtroy the City for its Wickedneſs, but to ſave L [...]t. Well, they come to him, they tell him what they are about to do, and that they are ſent to do it; [38] namely, to burn the City. This might have been enough; and perhaps, had it been notic'd to him by the Spirits I am ſpeaking of, this had been all; and if Lot had not taken their kind Information, it had been his own Fault; nay, as it was, the Text ſays, Lot linger'd, and 'tis plain he left the City with a kind of Reluctance.

BUT the kind Meſſengers do not ſatisfie them⯑ſelves with giving him the Warning, but they rouſe up his Indolence. See Gen. xix. 12. Haſt thou any here? any that thou haſt a Reſpect for, or Intereſt in, bring them out of this Place. ver. 13. We will deſtroy this Place. There's a hint of the Danger approaching, and which is a wiſe Direction what to do, but this does not ſatisfie: the Man is not barely caution'd, and directed, but he is to be ſav'd; and therefore the beneficent Hand is not content to allarm and counſel him; but, ver. 15. When the Morning aroſe they haſten'd LOT; they ſtirred up his unconcern'd Temper, ARISE, leſt thou be conſum'd in the Iniquity of the City; and even this being not enough, for LOT linger'd ſtill, and, as I ſaid, ſeem'd loth to leave the Place; they as it were dragg'd him out; ver. 16. they laid hold of his Hand, and upon the Hand of his Wife, and upon the Hand of his two Daughters, and brought him forth, and ſet him without the City; and what is the reaſon of all this? the Words are expreſs, the Lord being merciful to him.

THE reſt of the Story is well known: when they had brought him forth, they let him know he would not be ſafe even there; but adds, Eſcape for thy Life, look not behind thee: Nay, he tells him whither he ſhould go, ver. 17. Eſcape to the Mountain leſt thou be conſum'd. Here was a Meſ⯑ſage like a Work of Heaven; here was the War⯑ning of Danger, and Directions to take proper Meaſures for Deliverance, and thoſe Meaſures pointed [39] out even to the very Place where he ſhould be ſafe.

TAKE another Place exactly like this, Matt. ii. 13. An Angel is ſent to Joſeph in a Dream, to warn him of the Danger attending the Holy Infant, then in the Virgin Mother's Arms: the Words are expreſs; HEROD will ſeek the young Child to deſtroy him: Does the bleſſed Notice leave Joſeph to ſleep on, to ſay 'tis nothing but a Dream? I don't ſee any Danger, I believe there's nothing in it; as is our Language often on ſuch Occaſions. No, no; This Meſſage was from Heaven, who never gives ſuch Notice of Evil, and then leaves us unallarm'd, undi⯑rected, ſupine and eaſie, 'till it falls upon us without Remedy; the Angel adds preſently, ARISE and take the young Child and his Mother, and flee into Aegypt, and be thou there 'till I bring thee Word.

THUS you ſee the Nature of the Divine Pro⯑ceedings, the effectual manner of Notices from Heaven; the Danger is told, and then the Way to avoid it; and always with a haſting Allarm, Up, get thee out of the City; Ariſe, flee into Aegypt; and the like.

ANOTHER is in the Story of Peter in the Priſon: an Angel is ſent to deliver him, Acts xii. and what does the Angel do? a Light ſhin'd in the Priſon, and he ſmote him on the Side; this was to awaken and alarm him; this, and a Light to ſhow him the Way, was ſufficient to have put him upon trying to eſcape. But the Angel did not come ſo far to do his Work by Halves, but having awak'd him he goes on with his Work, and to perfect his De⯑liverance; ARISE QUICKLY Peter, and rais'd him up, and then made th [...] Chains fall off from his Hands.

NOR yet had he don [...]; gird thy ſelf, ſays the Angel, and bind on thy Sandals, or as we would ſay, put on your Shoes: ſtill Peter was at a loſs what to [40] do; then the Angel adds, caſt thy Garment about thee, and follow me. Then he leads him through all the Wards, and opens the Iron Gate for him, and never left him 'till he had brought him out into the Street; nay, through one Street, that the Keepers ſhould not know which way to purſue him.

THIS was an Appearance or Apparition to the Purpoſe; and ſuch have been all thoſe Tranſactions of Heaven, which have been under the Hands of expreſs Meſſengers. You ſee all theſe three were done by Angels ſent on purpoſe; Peter expreſſes it in ſo many Words, Acts xii. 11. Now I know of a ſurety, that the LORD has ſent his Angel, and hath deliver'd me.

NOW let us ſee how it has far'd with thoſe who have receiv'd Notices of approaching Danger from the inviſible World, by the Hands of other Meſ⯑ſengers.

JULIUS CAESAR had ſeveral Hints given him of his approaching Fate; one particular Southſayer pointed out the very Day to him, namely, the Ides of March, but he had no Power to avoid his Fate. The kind Spirit that foreboded, and gave hints to him, that he was in Danger, as if contented with having done his parr, left him to be murther'd. No Aſſiſtance given him to rouze up his Spirits to take the Alarm: He is not led by the Hand, and told, go not into the Senate Houſe, as was done for Lot; eſcape for thy Life. The kind Monitor does not name the Traytors and Aſſaſſinators to him, and ſay Brutus, and Caſſius, Caſca, and others, wait there to kill you; as the Angel to Joſeph, Herod will ſeek the young Child to deſtroy him.

AND on the other ſide, Caeſar, bold and unalarm'd, indolent, and having things not ſufficiently explain'd to him; (and the good Spirit, as may be ſuppos'd, able to do no more for him;) goes on, enters the Senate Houſe, mocks the Southſayer, and tells him [41] the Ides of March are come, who ſharply return'd, But they are not paſt. In a word, neglecting his own Safety, and wanting a compleat Information, he goes into the Senate, and is murther'd.

JULIAN the Apoſtate is another Example: He had a thouſand ill Omens, as they call'd them, which attended him at and before his undertaking the Perſian War; ſuch as the dying of the Conſul Julianus of his own Name, the burning of the Tem⯑ple of Apollo, and ſeveral other Accidents; and tho' he was the moſt ſuperſtitious of all the Heathen Emperors that were before him, and ſent to all the Oracles, to all the Augurs and Southſayers he could hear of, inſomuch that the Citizens of Antioch made a Jeſt of him for it; Yet he was ſo blinded by his Flatterers, or deluded by the Prieſts, who conſtrued the worſt and moſt portentous things, to mean the beſt Events; or, which is beyond it all, by the ſu⯑perior Decree of an appointed Vengeance; that he went on and was kill'd in the very beginning of the War; the firſt Battel with the Perſians carried him off.

I MIGHT multiply Examples of the like kind, even on both ſides, and eſpecially on the laſt; but 'tis ſufficient; our own Experience will confirm it: ſecret Notices are daily given us of capital Dangers attending, and yet how do the moſt vigilant Ob⯑ſervers of thoſe Signals, and the moſt eminent O⯑men-Hunters, even after thoſe Notices, ſit ſtill, and grow indolent? or elſe, amaz'd and bewilder'd, they ſay, I know there's ſomething a coming to me, ſome Miſchief attends me, I have plain Notice of it; but I don't know what it is, I can't tell what to do; I can do nothing to avoid or prevent it. And thus they fall into the Pit, as we may ſay, with their Eyes open, and in ſpight of the kind Spirit's beneficent Warning.

[42] WHAT can this be? but becauſe the Spirit, tho' really kind and beneficent, yet limited and impo⯑tent in Power, was able to do no more than to give the Hint, leaving the Perſon to his own Prudence to guard and direct himſelf?

I MIGHT add here what 'tis rational enough to ſuggeſt, viz. that Heaven in its infinite Wiſdom and Goodneſs may have appointed theſe Good Spirits to give ſuch Notices, yet allowing them to do no more, that the Mind of Man being duly alarm'd at approaching Evil, and believing ſome⯑thing very fatal to him is at Hand; but ſeeing no kind Being directing what M [...]thods to take for his Deliverance, or for eſcaping the impending Miſ⯑chief, ſhould turn his Eyes (at leaſt) a little upwards, and call for Direction and Council from that Hand, who alone can both direct and deliver.

BUT hold! whither am I going? This looks like Religion, and we muſt not talk a Word of that, if we expect to be agreeable. Unhappy Times! where to be ſerious, is to be dull and grave, and conſequently to write without Spirit. We muſt talk politely, not religiouſly; we may ſhow the Scholar, but muſt not ſhow a Word of the Chri⯑ſtian; ſo we may quote prophane Hiſtory, but not ſacred; and a Story out of Lucan or Plutarch, Tully, or Virgil will go down, but not a Word out of Moſes or Joſhua.

WELL, we muſt comply however; the Humour of the Day muſt prevail; and as there is no inſtru⯑cting you without pleaſing you, and no pleaſing you but in your own Way, we muſt go on in that Way; the Underſtanding muſt be refin'd by Alle⯑gory and Enigma; you muſt ſee the Sun through the Cloud, and reliſh Light by the help of Dark⯑neſs; the Taſte muſt be rectify'd by Salts, the Ap⯑petite whetted by Bitters; in a word, the Manners muſt be reform'd in Maſquerade, Devotion quicken'd [43] by the Stage not the Pulpit, and Wit be brighten'd by Satyrs upon Senſe.

THIS Hypotheſis, of a new ſuppos'd Claſs of Spirits, would lead me into a great many uſeful Speculations; and I might remark with great Ad⯑vantages from it, upon the general Indolence, which it is evident has ſo fatally poſſeſs'd ou [...] Men of Wit in this Age. To ſee a Fool, a Fop, believe himſelf inſpir'd, a Fellow that waſhes his Hands fifty times a-day, but if he would be truly cleanly, ſhould have his Brains taken out and waſh'd, his Scull Trapan'd, and plac'd with the hind-ſide before, that his Underſtanding, which Nature plac'd by Miſtake, with the Bottom upward, may be ſet right, and his Memory plac'd in a right Poſition; To this unſcrew'd Engine talk of Spirits, and of the inviſible World, and of his converſing with unembodied Soul, when he has hardly Brains to converſe with any thing but a Pack of Hounds, and owes it only to his being a Fool, that he does not converſe with the Devil! who if he has any Spirit about him, it muſt be one of theſe indolent Angels I ſpeak of; and if he has not been liſted a⯑mong the Infernals, it has not been for want of Wickedneſs, but for want of Wit.

I DON'T wonder ſuch as theſe go a mobbing a⯑mong thoſe meaneſt of mad Things call'd Free⯑Maſons; rough Cheats, and confeſs'd Deluſions are the fitteſt things to amuſe them. They are like thoſe fooliſh Fiſh that are caught in large Nets, that might get out at every Square of the Maſh, but hang by the Gills upon the meer Thread, and chuſe to hamper and tangle themſelves, when there is no occaſion for it, and are taken even in thoſe Snares that are not laid for them.

CHAP. V. Of the Appearance of Departed Unembo⯑died Soul.

I NOW come to the main and moſt diſputed Part of ſhadowy Appearance, viz. the Appari⯑tion of Unembodied Soul.

IT is a material Difficulty here, and ought to be conſider'd with the utmoſt Plainneſs, (viz.) what we mean by Unembodied Soul; whether we under⯑ſtand Souls which have been encas'd in Fleſh, but be⯑ing unhous'd are now moving about, in what State we know not, and are to be ſpoken of as in their ſeparate Capacity: Or whether there is any ſuch thing as a Maſs of Soul, as a learned but pretty much inconſiſtent W [...]iter calls it, which waits to be embodied, as the ſuperior Diſpoſer of that Affair, (be that who or what he pleaſes) may direct.

THIS I confeſs is to me ſomething unintelligi⯑ble, looks a little Platonick, and as if it were a-kin to the Tranſmigration-Whimſie of the Ancients; but if they would found it upon any thing rational, it muſt be upon the Suggeſtion mention'd above, viz. of a middle Claſs of Spirit, neither Angelick⯑Heavenly, or Angelick-Infernal: But Spirits inha⯑biting the inviſible Spaces, and allow'd to act and appear here, under expreſs and greatly ſtrain'd Li⯑mitations, ſuch as are already deſcrib'd, and of which much more may ſtill be ſaid.

BUT that I may clear up your Doubt as to the Part I am upon, I have added at the Head of this Section, the Word Departed, to intimate to you, that I am Orthodox in my Notion; that I am none of the Sect of Soul-Sleepers, or for impriſoning [45] Souls in a Limbus of the Ancients; but that, in a few Words, by the Appearance of Souls Unembo⯑died, I mean ſuch as having been embodied or im⯑priſon'd in Fleſh, are diſcharg'd from that Confine⯑ment, or as I call it unhous'd and turn'd out of Poſſeſſion. For I cannot agree that the Soul is in the Body, as in a Priſon; but rather that, like a rich Nobleman, he is pleas'd to inhabit a fine Country Seat or Palace of his own Building, where he reſolves to live and enjoy himſelf, and does ſo, 'till by the Fate of things his fine Palace being over-turn'd, whether by an Earthquake or otherwiſe, is bury'd in its own Ruins, and the noble Owner turn'd out of Poſſeſſion, without a Houſe.

THIS Soul, we are told, and I concur in the O⯑pinion, has ſometimes made a Tour back into this World; whether Earth, or the Atmo [...]phere of the Earth, call it where you will, and expreſs it how you will, it matters not much: Whence it comes, how far the Journey, how, and why it came hither, and a⯑bove all, how it goes back again, and what thoſe various Apparitions are which counterfeit theſe Spirits: enquire within, and you ſhall know farther.

THAT the Unembodied Souls of Men Dead, as we ſay Departed, have appeared, we have af⯑firm'd from the Authority of the Scripture; which I muſt allow to be an authentick Document, what⯑ever the Reader may pleaſe to do; 'till a Hiſtory more authentick, and of better Authority may be produc'd in the Room of it.

AS to the Appearance of Samuel, rais'd by the Witch, I deſpiſe it, as it is offer'd in the Capacity of a Soul, much more as the Unembodied Soul of Samuel; which tho' it might have been caus'd to appear, as the Sovereign of all Spirits, with whom the Soul of Samuel is at Reſt, had thought fit; yet could no more be ſummon'd from that Reſt, by [46] the Conjuration of an old Witch, than the Devil could fetch it out of Heaven by Force. Nor was it likely that God, who refus'd ſo much as to ſpeak to that abandon'd Prince, whom he had ſo righteouſly re⯑jected, and that would anſwer him neither by Urim, or by Thummim, that would neither hear his Prayer, or accept his Offering, would hear a Witch, a Creature likewiſe ſentenc'd to Death by his own righteous Law, and ſend Samuel at her Infernal Paw-wawing from Heaven, to tell Saul that to⯑morrow he ſhould be cut in Pieces by the Phili⯑ſtines; there ſeems to be no Conſiſtency at all in it, no, none at all.

THE Appearance of the Thing call'd Samuel, was, in my Opinion, neither more or leſs than a Phantaſm or Spectre, which (as the Devil is allow'd to do) might perſonate the old departed Prophet, and who, at the Witch's Summons, and by Hea⯑ven's Permiſſion, came up to pronounce the dread⯑ful Sentence upon Saul, and let him ſee what was the Effect of his forſaking God, and rejecting his Prophet Samuel. And thus it might be allow'd alſo to ſpeak in the firſt Perſon of the Prophet, as it did; nor do I ſay, or think, as ſome do, that it was the Devil in Samuel's Likeneſs; if it had, 'tis not likely the old Woman would have been ſo frighted as to cry out, ſeeing ſhe was better acquainted with the Devil, than to be ſurpriz'd, if it had been her old Familiar.

BUT ſhe ſaw ſomething ſhe did not expect, and perhaps had never ſeen before; for ſhe tells the King, ſhe ſaw Gods aſcending out of the Earth; by which I cannot but underſtand, ſhe ſaw ſome of thoſe Spirits which I have mention'd, which are not Infernal, and who might foreſee what the Devil himſelf cannot; for I have no reaſon to be⯑lieve that Satan knows any thing of Futurity.

[47] IF it be asked here, by what Authority the Witch could bring up one even of theſe Spirits; that in⯑deed may be difficult to anſwer, other than thus, that it might be as Balaam was over-rul'd to bleſs, when he intended to curſe; and that at her Call, and to pronounce the approaching Fate of Saul, and Iſrael with him, ſhe might be over-rul'd, and ſo call'd up, or call'd in, a good Spirit inſtead of the Devil.

AS for the Spectre's ſpeaking in the Name of Samuel in the Scripture, and the Text repreſen⯑ting it as if it were really Samuel himſelf, 1 Sam. xxviii. 15. And Samuel ſaid to Saul, why haſt thou [...]iſquieted me, to bring me up? I take it to be an Ex⯑preſſion ad Hominem, to the common Underſtanding, and to be underſtood as all Allegorick or Figurative Expreſſions are underſtood; and it no more proves that it was Samuel, and is no more to be taken lit⯑terally, than the other Words in the ſame Verſe are to be litterally underſtood.

1. WHY haſt thou diſquieted me? as if it was in Saul's Power, by the Conjurations of an ab⯑horr'd condemn'd Limb of the Devil, a proſcrib'd Witch, to diſquiet the departed Soul of Samuel; the Meaning is no more than this, What is your Bu⯑ſineſs with me, what do you trouble me for? You that deſpiſed me, and acted contrary to all my Di⯑rections, and would go on in your Perverſeneſs in ſpite of me, and of all I could ſay to you; what do you come to me for, now I am dead?

2. TO bring me up? intimating that Samuel was below, or was called ab Inferis; which is contrary to Reaſon as well as Religion, and neither conſiſts either with our Notion, or any body's elſe, except it be the Soul-ſleepers, who tell us, the Soul ſleeps with the Body in the Grave 'till the Reſurrection; and if ſo, then muſt the old Woman have had Power to awake him whenever ſhe pleas'd.

[48] UPON the whole, it ſeems this Woman was a Witch of ſome Eminency, and had more than or⯑dinary Power in her way. For when Saul applies to her, ſhe asks him, Whom ſhall I bring up? inti⯑mating that ſhe was able to bring up who ſhe would, either from Heaven or Hell.

THIS Boldneſs plainly infers, that ſhe had no Power at all, but this; that being a Witch, and one that had a Familiar Spirit, ſhe could cauſe her Familiar or Devil, call it what we will, to appear and perſonate who ſhe pleas'd to name. For why ſhould not the Devil be as able to dreſs himſelf up like one dead Perſon, as another? and why not appear as well in the Shape of a dead Man, as of a living One?

SO that to me there is no more Difficulty in his Dreſſing himſelf like Samuel, than there was in calling himſelf ſo, or than ſpeaking in the firſt Perſon of Samuel, as above; Why diſquiet ME, and why bring ME up? All that ſeems inexplicable in it is, how he ſhould be able to tell Saul what ſhould happen, (viz.) that GOD would deliver Iſrael into the Hands of the Philiſtines, and him (Saul) with them, and that to-morrow he ſhould be with him; that is, among the Dead, ſhould be killed in the Battel. This indeed has ſomething difficult in it, becauſe the Devil is not allow'd to be a Prophet, or able to predict what is to come. But theſe things may be all anſwer'd by the Story of Balaam, where the wicked Creature, tho' a Wizard, and a Conjurer, yet was directed, not only to bleſs Iſrael in ſpite of all the Gifts and Rewards that the King of Moab offer'd him, but was enabled to propheſy of Chriſt, and foretel the glorious appearing of the Meſſiah; Numb. xxiv. 17. I ſhall ſee him but not now, I ſhall bohold him but not nigh; There ſhall come a Star out of Jacob, and a Scepter ſhall ariſe out of Iſrael; and again, out of JACOB ſhall come he that ſhall have Dominion. This was a plain and direct Prophecy [49] of Chriſt, who is call'd in the Revelations the Morning-Star; and yet this Balaam [...]as a Witch, a Dealer with an Evil Spirit, and receiv'd the Wages of Unrighteouſneſs.

THE next Teſtimony which we find in [...]cred Hiſtory, of the Reality of Appa [...]iti [...]ns, [...]s it r [...]cts the Souls of departed Perſons, is the Appearance of Moſes and Elias with Jeſus Chriſt in the Mount, at his Transfiguration; they not only were there, really and perſonally, in their Habits, and ſo as to be known to the Diſciples, but they appear'd talking with Chriſt; ſo that it was a Perfect and Compleat Ap⯑parition, (viz.) the particular Perſons appearing, and known by the Perſons to whom they appear'd, Mat. xvii. 3. And in another Place, the manner of the Apparition is deſcrib'd, as alſo what they talk'd of, Luke ix. 38. Who appeared in Glory, and talk'd of his Deceaſe, which he ſhould accompliſh in Jeru⯑ſalem.

THIS is ſo plain and unqueſtionable an Appear⯑ance of departed Souls, that they who diſpute it, muſt not only doubt of the Divinity of Scripture, but muſt diſpute its being an authentick Hiſtory; which its Enemies will hardly deny.

WE have yet another Teſtimony, and this is as poſitive and expreſs as the reſt; Matth. xxvii. 52. And the Graves were opened, and many of the BODIES of the Saints which ſlept AROSE, and came out of the Graves after his Reſurrection, and went into the holy City, and appeared unto man [...]

THIS is a remarkable Place, and would admit of a long Expoſition; but I muſt not preach, and if I might, I am no Annotator; as far as it is to my preſent Purpoſe, the Bodies aroſe, that was extraor⯑d [...]ary but that their Souls were alſ [...] [...]h their Bodies, is not to be douted, at leaſt by me; for I have no Notion of the Body w [...]lking about without the Soul, nor do we ever read of bodily Apparitions.

[50] AN Apparition is vulgarly call'd by us a Ghoſt, by our Northern People a Gheſt; now the Ghoſt is a Spirit, and the Apparition of a Spirit has ſome Senſe in it; the Spirits alſo aſſuming a Shape or Body, whether Real, or in Appearance only, has ſomething in it to be talk'd about; but the Apparitions of Body, moving, appearing, walking, or whatever we may call it, without Soul or Spirit, is what was ne⯑ver heard of, and ſcarce ever ſuggeſted.

IT may be obſerv'd, that thoſe Apparitions quo⯑ted from the Scripture, are not Apparitions in Viſi⯑on; Dreams in the Night, or ſuppoſed Appearances only, but plain, open, day-light Viſions; the for⯑mer would not be to my purpoſe at all. Theſe were Apparitions that were ſpoken to, and con⯑verſed with; and this is a Proof of what I al⯑ledge, viz. that Spiri [...]s Unembodied may appear, may reaſſume humane Shape, their own former Likeneſs, or any other, and may ſhow themſelves to the World, or to as many Perſons as they pleaſe.

THE Difficulties which attend this are not a few, tho' none of them deſtroy the thing it ſelf; as (1.) Whether the Souls of good or bad People unembo⯑died, are really in a State or Condition for ſuch an Appearance? and whether it conſiſts with the juſt Notions we ought to have of the unalterable State? I mean ſuch Notions as conform to the Scripture, which, if the Parable of the rich Man and Lazarus be a juſt Repreſentation of it, ſeems impoſſible to be, except on ſuch an extraordinary Occaſion as that of our Saviour's Transfiguration and Reſur⯑rection; that is, by Miracle.

LAZARUS, ſays the Text, was, upon his Death, carried by the Angels into Abraham's Boſom; the rich Man died, and in Hell he lift up his Eyes. That this is ſuppos'd to be immediately, is evident, becauſe the rich Man ſpeaks of his Brethren that were then alive: If he was not carried thither immediately, [51] he would certainly not have been carried there at all 'till after the Great Audit; ſo that it was plain he was there preſently after his Death: and that Lazarus was carried immediately to Hea⯑ven is evident alſo; becauſe the rich Man is brought in ſeeing him there, and deſiring he may be ſent to him.

TO ſay this is but a Parable, is to ſay what may be granted without Prejudice to the Point in hand. For as it is a Parable, it would not have been ap⯑poſite, if it had not repreſented things as they were really to be; it would have been a Deluſion, and brought to deceive; whereas it is a Parable of our Lord's own bringing, and all thoſe Parables that Chriſt uttered, were the moſt perfect Repreſentati⯑ons and Illuſtrations of the things which they were brought to ſet forth; nor is any one of them lame in their Alluſions, but inſtructive in every Article; as the Parable of the Prodigal Son, for Example, and the Parable of the King making a Marriage for his Son, and ſo of the reſt. And why muſt this a⯑lone be lame, and unapt for the purpoſe?

IF then this Parable is ſuited to repreſent the State of the Souls of the Departed, thoſe Souls then can no w [...] be concern'd in the Apparitions which we are ſpeaking of; except as is before excepted, viz. on ſuch extraordinary Occaſions, as that of our Savi⯑our [...] muſt be acknowledg'd to be.

IF then, neither the Souls or Spirits of the Bleſ⯑ſed or the Curſed, the Happy or Miſerable, the Sav'd or the Condemn'd, are concern'd in thoſe Appearances, who then are theſe Inhabitants of the inviſible World? What are they that conſtitute and poſſeſs this World of Spirits, ſo much talk'd of? And if the immenſe Spac [...]s are taken up, if they are peopled by any ſpirituous Creatures, if any thing but Stars and Planets range through the empty Place, as Job calls it, Job xxvi. 7. what are [52] they, and what are the Spirits that inhabit thoſe Worlds?

THERE muſt certainly be a World of Spirits, or of Spirit, from whence we receive the frequent Viſits in Publick, and the frequent Notices in Pri⯑vate, which are ſo perceptible to us, and which we are ſo uneaſy about: if they are neither good Spirits or bad, if they have neither Power to do us Good or Hurt, as I ſee a great d [...]al of Reaſon to believe, then we have not ſo much Re [...]on to be terrified about them as we generally are: but of that here⯑a [...]ter.

AS to the Locality of the Devil, and his Ap⯑pearance, that indeed is another Ar [...]cl [...] and he may, as is ſaid already, cov [...]r him [...]lf with what Shapes, human or brut [...] h [...] pleaſes; but then this would bring all Apparition to b by the Ap⯑pearance of the Devil, and all the Empire of the Air to be poſſeſs'd by him; which I cannot grant: Particularly, becauſe, as I [...]aid, ſome of theſe Apparitions come of good Errands, to prevent Miſ⯑chief, to protect Innocence and Virtu [...], and to diſ⯑cover Injury, Injuſtice and Oppr [...]ſſion; all which are things very much out of [...]e Devil's way, re⯑mote from his Practice, and much more remote from his Deſign: The Spirits I ſpeak of muſt be of a higher Original; they muſt be Heaven-born, of the glorious Original of angelick Species; and as all things are known by their Conſequences, ſo they are known by their Actings; they do Heaven's Work, are under his immediate Government and Direction, and are honour'd with his ſpecial Com⯑miſſion; they are employed in his immediate Buſi⯑neſs, namely, the common Good of his Creature Man: They that do Good, demonſtrate in the beſt manner that they are good.

SO that every way we ſhould meet with ſome Difficulty in this Caſe, unleſs ſolv'd, as I ſaid before, [53] by the denominating another Claſs of Spirits nei⯑ther immediately celeſtial, or at all infernal; neither embodied, or that have been embodied, or that ſhall ever be embodied.

IT cannot be expected I ſhould deſcribe what theſe are, and in what Condition; it is ſufficient that I only ſay Such may be there, and that they may be ſuch as he thinks good to place there who made that empty Place; I may as well ask the Enquirer what ſort of Inhabitants they are who poſ⯑ſeſs the Moon or any of the Planets, and whether they dwell in a State of Innocence, or have con⯑tracted Guilt; and if the latter, whether there is a glorious Eſtabliſhment of Redemption, and a Co⯑venant of Life granted for them, as there is here, by the Purchace and Merit of a Saviour?

IT is no fair Queſtion to ask me a Demonſtra⯑tion for an Hypotheſis; or is it reaſonable to tell me they will not believe it, becauſe I cannot prove the Affirmative of what I do not affirm. I advance the Probability, and ſay, that it is the more Probable, becauſe (as they ſay of the new Philo⯑ſophy) by this we can ſolve ſeveral other Phoeno⯑mena, which we cannot otherwiſe account for; and I alledge it is much more probable and more ratio⯑nal to ſuggeſt it, than it is that the Planets ſhould be inhabited, for which 'tis certain that God muſt have created a new Sp [...]cies of Creatures, or that none can dwell there.

THE Waſte or the empty Space, as [...]ob [...] it is full of Spirits; I believe that may be t [...]ke [...] for granted: they are placed there, if they [...] by the powerful Hand of the Creator: the [...] is no Philoſophy can be pleaded againſt the Place being habitable; whereas the Objections againſt the Pla⯑nets being habitable are unanſwerable, but by th [...] Abſurdity of bringing Almighty Power in to [...] ſeveral new Species of Creatures, ſome to liv [...] [...] [54] Fire, ſome in Froſt, ſome in all Darkneſs and Ice, ſome in boiling Waters and ſcalding Air.

THE Inhabitants which I ſuggeſt are created for the Regions of the inviſible World, are Spi⯑rits, inviſible Subſtances, Bodies without Body, ſuch as are proper for the Expanſe in which they live, and eligible for us to conceive of; and tho' we cannot graſp a Spirit with our Hands, feel it and ſee it, yet we can in ſome manner conceive of it. But, for the planetary Inhabitants, we cannot ac⯑count for them to our ſelves or any one elſe, nor can we conceive any thing of them that we can ſay is probable or rational

IS it at all irrational to ſuppoſe, or improbable to be, that God may have made a Degree of An⯑gels or of miniſtring Spirits (whether they are angelick, or of other Species is not for us to de⯑termine) who may be of a differing Degree, ap⯑pointed for a differing Reſidence, and to different Employments from the ſuperior Angels, for a Seaſon?

AS there are different Degrees of Glory in Hea⯑ven, Stars of different Magnitude and Luſtre in the Firmament, ſo may there not be Angels or Spirits of differing Quality and Degrees of Power and Favour? why elſe are they called Thrones, and Dominions, Principalities, and Powers? they are all Titles of Honour given to the Angels in the Scrip⯑ture, Eph. i. 21. and vi. 12. If there be ſeveral Titles, there muſt be ſeveral Degrees.

THERE can be no Superior, if there are no In⯑ferior; what can we underſtand by Thrones and Principalities in Heaven, but Degrees of Angels? Beſides, what do we underſtand by Angels and Arch⯑Angels? 1 Theſſ. iv. 16. ſhall deſcend with the Voice of an Arch-Angel; and again, Jude ver. 3. Michael the Arch-Angel.

[55] IF there are Angels which are not Arch-An⯑gels, but of an inferior Degree; ſo there may be alſo different Degrees among the Angels which are not Arch-Angels; and ſome of theſe may be appointed their Reſidence in the Air or At⯑moſphere of this World, (Earth) or within the Compaſs of this particular Solar Syſtem, (for I al⯑low there may be ſeveral like Syſtems [...])

THUS thoſe that will ſuppoſe theſe Appear⯑ances to be of none but Angels, I ſhall not con⯑tend at all with them: I exclude no Species of Spirits, but the departed unembodied Souls of Men: I have allowed Apparitions to the Devil himſelf upon his own wicked and proper Occaſions. I only cannot grant, that becauſe God can, therefore he does employ him, upon his own gracious and bene⯑ficent Orders to his Creature; This muſt at leaſt ſeem to bring Providence to a Neceſſity of em⯑ploying him for want of other Officers, which I think is highly detracting, and diſhonouring of the divine Majeſty, as if he was oblig'd to employ the Devil, as we ſay, for want of a Better.

BUT excluding Satan, I think God does not want Agents; he has apparently poſted an Army of miniſtring Spirits, call them Angels if you will, or what elſe you pleaſe; I ſay, poſted them round this Convex, this Globe the Earth, to be ready at all Events, to execute his Orders and to do his Will, reſerving ſtill to himſelf to ſend expreſs Meſſengers of a ſuperior Rank on extraordinary Occaſions.

I MAKE no queſtion but theſe are the Angels which carried away Lazarus into Abraham's Boſom, I mean which are ſuppoſed to do ſo.

I DOUBT not, theſe are the Angels of which Chriſt ſays, his Father, if he had pray'd, would have ſent him more than twelve Legions for his Guard.

TO ſay it is not to be expected God ſh [...]uld cauſe ſuch an Hoſt of glorious Spirits to attend on [56] this little Point the Earth, and this deſpicable Species called Man, would be but to oblige me to ſay, What may not God be ſuppoſed to do for that Creature whom he ſo lov'd as to ſend his only begotten Son to redeem? So at leaſt that Queſtion is fully anſwer'd.

NOW, theſe Spirits, let th [...]m be what they will, and call them Angels if you pleaſe, I conceive theſe are they whoſe Appearances give us ſo much Difficulty to ſolve: Theſe may, without any Abſur⯑dity, b [...] ſuppoſed capable of aſſuming Shape, con⯑verſing with Mankind, either in the ordinary or extraordinary Way, ei [...]her by Voice and Sound, tho' in Appearan [...]e [...] a [...]d [...]orrow'd Shapes; or by private Notices of things, Impulſes, Forebodings, Miſgivings, an [...] ot [...]r [...]mperceptible Communica⯑tions to the Minds of Men, as God their great Employer may direct.

NOR are theſe Notions of them at all abſurd or inconceivable, tho' the Manner how they act may not be underſtood by us: 'Tis but Soul conver⯑ſing with Soul, Spirit communicating to Spirit, one intellectual Being to another, and by ſecret Conveyances, ſuch as Souls converſe by.

NEITHER is the Apparition of theſe Spirits any Abſurdity; theſe may be intimate with us, ap⯑pear to us, be concerned about us, without any thing unintelligible in it: Why may not one Spi⯑rit be ſo as well as another; and one Kind or Species of Spirits as well as another?

IF theſe are innocent, good-meaning, and bene⯑ [...]cent Spirits, why may it not conſiſt with the Wiſdom and Goodneſs of God to ſuffer ſuch to be converſant with Men, and to have Acce [...]s to the Spirits embodied; as well as to allow the Devil and evil Spirits to converſe ſo among us to our Hurt?

BUT let me give one Caution here, and enter my Proteſt againſt the Power, or Pretences to the Power, of raiſing, or as 'tis call'd, bringing up theſe [57] Spirits. To call them, and ſummon them up for In⯑telligence of human Affairs, and this by Magick and Conjurations, which we vulgarly and juſtly enough call the Black Art; I cannot allow this Part of Science to have any Influence upon, or Command over, any good Spirit: But that, as the Witch of Endor obtain'd of the Devil to perſonate the old Prophet Samuel, and appear in his Shape, ſpeak in his Name, and act the Prophet in Maſquerade; ſo theſe Men of Art may bring the Devil to mimick a good Spirit, call himſelf an Inhabitant of the World of Spirits, and ſo delude Mankind, as he does in almoſt every thing he ſays to them; But he cannot really call up one of theſe independent free Spirits, who are perfectly out of his reach where-ever they are; and whoſe angelick Nature places them above, not under him, or at his Command.

SATAN is a conquer'd, ſubdu'd Enemy; and theſe indeed were his Conquerors, and are ſtill his Terror; He abhors them, and hates them, and flees before them: And what if I ſhould ſay they were placed in this Situation, (namely, in the in⯑viſible Regions near and about this World) for this very Reaſon, viz. to keep under this Arch⯑Enemy and Rebel? as a conquering Prince having obtained a glorious Victory over a powerful Re⯑bel, tho' he retires from the Country with his Troops, the War being over, yet leaves a good Body of Forces to keep the Peace of the Coun⯑try, and to awe the Rebels from any farther Attempt.

THUS they are Guardian Angels really, and in the very Let [...]er of it, without being oblig'd to at⯑tend at every particular Man's Ear or Elbow. Mankind are thus truly ſaid to be in the Hands of God always; and Providence, which conſtantly works by Means and Inſtruments, has the Govern⯑ment of the World actually in his Adminiſtration, not only by his infinite Power, but by immediate [58] Deputation, and the ſubdued Devil is a Priſoner of War both chain'd and reſtrain'd.

CHAP. VI. Of the Manner How the Spirits of every Kind, which can or do appear among us, manage their Appearance; and How they proceed.

THE Poſſibility being thus ſettled, and it being granted that Spirits, or detach'd Angels, do converſe with Mankind viſibly as well as inviſibly, and have Acceſs to us, to our Souls as well as Bo⯑dies, as well by ſecret Communication, as by open and publick Apparition; it remains to enquire into the Manner how this Converſation is carried on.

I HAVE already entred my Proteſt againſt all thoſe Arts call'd Magical and Diabolic, by which Man is made capable (at leaſt) of being Aggreſſor in this Communication, that he can call up theſe Spi⯑rits, or call 'em down rather, and begin the Con⯑verſation when he pleaſes.

WHETHER by Compact and ſecret Helliſh Familiarity with the Devil he may not obtain Leave to uſe Satan with ſuch Freedom, I will not deter⯑mine; I doubt he may: for the Devil may depute ſuch and ſuch Powers and Privileges to his Confe⯑derates, as to his Honour in his great Wiſdom ſhall ſeem meet: But that he can empower them to do the like with thoſe good and beneficent Spirits of the inviſible World, who are (I have ſup⯑pos'd) Spirits, not Devils, that I deny, nor do I ſee any Reaſon to grant it.

I COME then to the Manner the Spirits, which I would ſuppoſe may inhabit the utmoſt Waſte, are able to correſpond with us: and firſt, as Spirits [59] or Angels, call them as you will, they are to be ſup⯑poſed, like other Spirits, to have an extenſive Knowledge, and a View of all created Subſtances, at leaſt on this ſide Heaven; a vaſt capacious Un⯑derſtanding, an unbounded Sight, a Liberty of Lo⯑co-mo [...]ion, paſſing from one Region to another, from one Planet to another; they are not congeal'd by Cold, or calcin'd by Heat; that they are able to exiſt in all Climates, even from Saturn to Mer⯑cury; that they may go and come, appear and diſ⯑appear, here or where elſe they pleaſe; in a word, that they are free Agents, as well in their Motions as Actings. Hence they are neceſſarily to be ſup⯑poſed to know all things needful to he known, re⯑lating to us, as well as to other things; that they can take Cognizance of human Affairs, and that not by Grant or Licenſe, or by ſecond hand Infor⯑mation from Hell, from the infernal Spirit, or any other Place, but by their own angelick and ſpiri⯑tuous Penetration; and that they have no Depen⯑dance upon Satan, or any Power or Perſon con⯑cern'd with him; that they act alſo as Spirit on all Occaſions.

THO' we ſee nothing of them, they ſee us; tho' we know nothing of them, they know and are con⯑verſant about us, are capable of being affected and moved in our Behalf, and to concern themſelves for our Good on many Accounts: Hence they often give us Notices and Warnings of Evils attending us, tho' they cannot act ſo upon material Objects, as to interfere with our Affairs, over-rule our Fate, or direct us how to avoid the Evils which they foreſee, or to embrace the Good which they ſee attending us; of which, and the Reaſons of it, I have ſpoken already.

AS they can thus communicate things to our Imagination, ſo we may ſuppoſe, that in Proſecu⯑tion of that beneficent Concern which they have [60] for us, they can and frequently do aſſume human Shape, and come to us, talk to us, and converſe intimately with us in Apparition and by Voice, nay even in Dialogue, Queſtion and Anſwer, a [...] they ſee Occaſion.

THIS converſing in Apparition, is what we call Walking; and when any ſuch thing is ſeen, we ſay a Spirit walks, or haunts ſuch a Place; and tho' this is a mighty terrible thing in the vulgar Appearance, and the People, when theſe things appear to them, are apt to ſay they ſee the Devil; yet it i [...] very often a Miſtake, and a very wide Miſtake, as appears by the Conſequence.

I HAVE heard of a Man who travell'd four Years thro' moſt of the Northern Countries of Europe with the Devil; if all thoſe Spectres or Ap⯑paritions are Devils, which I muſt not grant; nor was this Spectre ſo inſincere as to conceal it ſelf all [...]he while from him, but diſcover'd to him that he was but an Apparition, without Body, Subſtance, or any thing but Shape.

IF the Account I have of this Apparition be true, and I have had it by me many Years, he did him Good, and not Hurt; he guided him thro' De⯑ſarts and over Mountains, over frozen Lakes, and little Seas cover'd with Snow; he diverted him with Diſcourſes of various Subjects, always iſſuing for his Good, and for the Encreaſe of Knowledge: He went with him over the Sea from Ireland to the Coaſt of Norway: He procur'd Winds for him, without buying them of Witches and Laplanders: He did not raiſe Storms for him, becauſe being a Traveller and upon a Voyage, he had no Occaſion of them; but he foretold Storms punctually and exactly, prevented the Ship's putting out to Sea when Storms were approaching; found the Ship's Boat and Anchors, when the firſt was driven away in the Night, and the ſecond weigh'd and run away [61] with by the Norwegians in the Dark, the Ship having been obliged to ſlip and run up into Harbour; I ſay, he found them, that is to ſay, directed the Seamen where to find them, and to diſcover the Thieves.

HE did a thouſand things for him, and for his Accommodation, in his Travels; he was acquainted where-ever he came, and procured his Fellow-Traveller Entertainment and good Uſage; he knew the Affairs of every Country, and the very People too; he ſpoke every Language, German, Norſe or Norway, Poliſh Pruſſian, Ruſſian, Hungarian, Tartarian, and Turkiſh.

HE paſt Rivers without Bridges, tho' he would never let his Fellow-Traveller ſee him do tha [...], or help him to do it; nor would he let him ſee him mount into the Air upon any occaſion whatever; but would ſet him in his Way, give him very faithful Directions how to find the Places he was going to, and then ſtrike off ſome other Way, as if he had Buſineſs at this or that Place, and would not fail to meet him again punctually at the place he appoint⯑ed.

SOMETIMES he would be ſeen at a diſtance a Mile or more, to-day on his right, to-morrow on his left Hand, and keeping even pace with him, come into the ſame Village or Town where he lodg'd, and take up as it were at another Inn; but if he enquir'd for him in the Morning he was al⯑ways gone, and the People knew nothing of him, except that they juſt ſaw ſuch a Man the Evening before, but that he did not ſtay.

WHEN he had travelled thus with him from Ireland, as I ſaid, to the Coaſt of Norway, where they were driven in by Storm; and after that by Sea round the ſaid Coaſt of Norway to Gottenburgh, where they put in again by contrary Winds, he perſuaded the Traveller not to go any farther in that Ship.

[62] THE Traveller being Bound with the Veſſel to Dantzick, and having a conſiderable Quantity of Goods on Board, would by no means be prevail'd with to quit the Ship: His Fellow-Traveller told him he had the Second-ſight, and that he was aſſur'd the Ship ſhould never come to Dantzick. However the Traveller not giving ſo much Credit to him as that requir'd, and not knowing any thing of him at that time, but that he was a ſtrange, intelligent, fore⯑ſeeing Man (as he call'd him) would continue the Voyage; whereupon the Stranger left him, and the Ship purſuing the Voyage was ſurpriz'd with another dangerous Storm; I ſay another, becauſe they had had one before. In this Tempeſt the Ship was driven upon the Coaſt of Rugen, an Iſland on the German ſide of the Baltic, where with much Difficulty they put into Straelſund, a Sea-Port of Pomeren, and there the Traveller went on Shore.

HERE walking penſively and concern'd about the event of his Fortune, and fearing the Ship would really be loſt, as his firſt Man had foretold him; I ſay, walking very anxious upon the Key at Straelſund, there meets him a Man who he was ut⯑terly a Stranger to, but who ſalutes him in Engliſh, calls him by his Name, and asks him what he did there.

SURPRIZ'D with ſuch a Salutation, and glad to ſee any Man in ſuch a ſtrange remote Country that he was like to be acquainted with, and much more that could call him by his Name, he return'd his Compliment, and anſwer'd that indeed he had not much Buſineſs there, but that he came thither by a very unfortunate occaſion.

I KNOW you are, ſays the Gentleman; you came in here laſt Night in yon Ship; pointing to the Veſſel which lay in the Road betwen the City and the Iſland of Rugen.

I DID ſo, ſays the Traveller, and I am like to have but ill Luck with her.

[63] I DOUBT ſo, ſays the Stranger, and I ſuppoſe that made you look ſo much concern'd.

I CANNOT deny, ſaid he, but I might look troubled, I think I have Cauſe, for I am here in a ſtrange Country, without Acquaintance or Intereſt, and know not yet what Condition the Ship is in, or my Goods, which I doubt are damag'd.

I AM aſſur'd, ſays the Gentleman, the Ship will not be able to purſue her Voyage, but perhaps your Cargo may be ſafe. I underſtand the Goods you have on Board are Herrings.

THEY are ſo, ſays the Traveller; I have twelve Laſt of Herrings on board, and we have had a long Voyage already.

I KNOW you have, ſaid the Gentleman; but pull up your Spirits, your Fiſh is all ſafe, and you may get it on Shore; and you ſhall either ſell it here, or get Ships here to Reload it again for Dantzick; and ſeeing you are a Stranger, adds he, I will get you ſome aſſiſtance.

ALL this while he had not ask'd him his Name; but now he ſaid to him, Will you not let me know, Sir, who it is I am thus much oblig'd to?

FIRST, returns he, let me ſee and get you ſome help, that you may go cheerfully about your Buſi⯑neſs, and we'll talk of that afterwards; ſo he bad him walk a little there, and he would come to him again.

HE had not walked long but he ſees a Meſſen⯑ger coming to him, to tell him, that there was an Engliſh Gentleman deſir'd to ſpeak with him at ſuch a Houſe, and that he was to guide him to the place.

ACCORDINGLY he follows the Meſſenger, who brings him to a Publick Houſe where were Three Gentlemen ſitting in a Room, and the Man he had converſed with made a fourth, who call'd him in, and bad him ſit down, which he did.

[64] THE Three Gentlemen ſaluted him very kindly, and one of them alſo in Engliſh, and told him they had receiv'd an Account of his Circumſtances from [...]hat G [...]ntleman, and that they ſent for him to com⯑fort and aſſiſt him.

THIS was a kind and agreeable Surprize to him, and he could not but receive it with all Civility and Acknowledgment poſſible. After which they ask'd him to Sup with them, which he accepted of, and at Supper hearing the whole of the Caſe, they ſent for a Merchant of that City to come to them.

WHEN the Merchant was come they recom⯑mended the Stranger's Affair to him; and he, the Merchant, was ſo aſſiſtant to the Stranger that he bo [...]ght all his Cargo of Fiſh, or procur'd others to buy it, giving him a Price to his Satis [...]ction, and gave him as much Money there as he requir'd, and good Bills payable at Dantzick for the reſt.

IN the mean time, ( [...]or this was tranſacting ſe⯑veral Days) the Three Gentlemen continued ex⯑ceeding courteous and obliging to him; and after many other Civilities, they being travelling into Poland, invited the Traveller to go with them as far as Dantzick, which they knew he was bound for, and that they would ſubſiſt him at their own Charge ſo far. The Traveller conſidering his own Condition, and that the Ship he came in was not in Condition to purſue the Voyage, reſolv'd to ac⯑cept of the Offer, and accordingly prepar'd to go with them: But he was extremely concern'd that he could not ſee the kind Stranger who had firſt ſaluted him as above, and who brought him to th [...] Gentlemen that were now ſo extraordinary civil to him; he enquir'd after him of the Meſſenger that fetch'd him to that Houſe, but he knew him not; he ask'd the People of the Houſe, but they could give no A [...]count of him; he ask'd the three [65] Gentlemen about him, but they knew nothing of him; the Engliſh Gentleman among them ſaid, he thought he belong'd to that Gentleman, point⯑ing to another of the three who was a German; the German anſwer'd that he underſtood he was the third Gentleman's Friend, who was a Swede, that is a Pomeranian, for Pomeren is under the Dominion of the Swedes. But the Swede ſaid he thought he was the Engliſh Gentleman's Brother, for he ſpoke Engliſh very well; in a word, no body knew him, and he ſaw him no more.

IN a Week more or thereabout the four Gen⯑tlemen (for now they were ſo many) ſet out toge⯑ther, with every one a Servant; except our Traveller, who had none. Every one that knows the Coun⯑try from Stetin to Dantzick and Poland, knows that it is a deſart and wild Country very thin of Inha⯑bitants, and conſequently not full of Towns; with ſeveral Woods and Waſts in their Way, very difficult to Travel, and this oblig'd them ſeveral times to take Guides by the Way, ſo that they made up with their Guides always Eight, ſome⯑times Ten in Company, very well arm'd, and tolera⯑bly well mounted.

THE third Day after they were paſt the Oder, and began to come out of that Part of Pomeren which lies Eaſt of Stetin, and is call'd the Ducal Pomeren, they obſerv'd a Man mean in Apparel, but appearing ſomething more than meerly what Po⯑verty repreſents, travelling the ſame Way as they did, but always keeping at about the diſtance of half a Mile from them on their left Hand.

HE travelled on Foot, but kept full pace with them, and often was ſome way before them; whe⯑ther he was in a Track or Road, as they were, they could not tell, but he kept ſuch an equal Diſtance as if the Road he was in was Parallel with theirs; indeed ſometimes they loſt ſight of him for a while; [66] yet they were ſure to find him again at ſome little diſtance, either before them or behind them; and this continued three Days before they took any extraordinary notice of him.

BUT the third Day they were a little more cu⯑rious about him, and one of them (with a Servant attending) rode from the Company, intending to ſpeak with him; but as ſoon as he ſaw them come towards him, the Stranger fled farther to the Left from them; ſtill however keeping on his Way for⯑ward, but plainly ſhunning being ſpoken with; ſo the Gentleman and his Servant came back again, having made no Diſcovery; except this, that the Stranger kept no Path or Track, that there wa [...] no Road or Way in the Place where he marcht, bu [...] that he only kept at ſuch a certain diſtance from them; from whence they concluded that he was only ſome poor Man that was travelling ove [...] that wild Country, and having gotten ſome Intel⯑ligence of their Journey kept pace with them, to guide him the Way: But two Things amuſe [...] them ſtrangely that Third Day of their Travel.

1. THEY obſerved that Riding over a large Plain, where there were ſome few ſcattering Houſe [...] which lay on the other ſide of the Road South, (for he kept all along (before) on the North ſide o [...] them) I ſay, paſſing over this Plain, the Travelle [...] keeping a little behind them croſs'd the Road, and going up to one of the ſaid ſcatter'd Houſes, knock'd at the Door and went in.

UPON this they reſolv'd if poſſible to get ſome knowledge of him; ſo th [...]y rode all up to another of thoſe Houſes: Here calling to the Inhabitants, tho' it was no Inn or Houſe of Entertainment, but a Poor Husbandman's Cottage, they got Leave to refreſh themſelves, having Proviſions and Wine of their own, and giving the good Wife a [67] [...]mall Bottle of about half a Pint of Brandy at part⯑ [...]ng, the People were abundantly ſatisfied.

HERE talking of the Traveller, and at what Houſe he call'd in the Village, (for tho' the Houſes ſtood ſtragling over the waſte, yet as there were near twenty of them in all it was call'd a Town) here, I ſay, talking of the Traveller and of his knocking at the Door of one of the Houſes, the Woman of the Houſe underſtanding their Language, haſtily ask'd, What, ſays ſhe, have you ſeen the Owke Mouraski? Who ſhe meant, they did not know; but deſcribing [...]he Perſon to her, and ſhe alſo to them, they began to come to an Underſtanding. Did he not keep Pace with you, ſays ſhe, on the North ſide of the Road all the Way? Yes, ſaid they.

AY, ſays ſhe, and had you offer'd to ride towards [...]m, you would always have found him as far off as [...] firſt.

THAT amuſed them. Why, what is he? ſays one [...]f the Gentlemen.

NAY we know not, ſays ſhe, nor deſire to [...]now.

WHY ſo? ſays he.

BECAUSE, ſays ſhe, he brings no good luck; pray at what Houſe do ye ſay he knockt at the Door?

THEY deſcrib'd the Houſe, at which the Wo⯑man and all the Children fell a crying, and making [...] great ſign of Sorrow.

WHAT'S the Matter, ſays the Gentlemen, what [...]re you diſturb'd at?

O' ſays the good Woman, that Owke Mouraski ne⯑ver calls at any Houſe in the Town, but ſome or other of the Family dies that Year.

BY this it ſeem'd that he came often that Way, [...]o he ask'd the Woman how often he was uſed to [...]e ſeen thereabouts.

[68] SHE anſwered, Not often, perhaps once or twic [...] a Year; and ſays ſhe, ſometimes he paſſes by an [...] calls or knocks at no Houſe in his Way, and the [...] adds ſhe, we are glad to ſee him.

WHY, ſays the Gentleman, what do you ta [...] him to be the Devil?

NO, no, ſays ſhe, not the Devil, no, he is a ver [...] good Man.

BUT why are you ſo afraid of him then? ſays [...]

BECAUSE, ſays ſhe, he knows more than [...] the Men in the World; he knows if any o [...] is to die, and then he knocks at the Houſe to [...] them to be ready.

N. B. Here the Woman enquired more exac [...] about the Houſe where the Traveller called, a [...] the Gentleman going to the Door pointed it [...] to her, at which ſhe left off crying, and th [...] rejoyc'd as much as ſhe had lamented before; [...] it ſeems ſhe had miſtaken it for another Ho [...] which ſtood near it, and where her own Fath [...] and Mother lived.

THEN he asked her what Countryman the Tr [...] ⯑veller was.

SHE ſaid, they did not know that, for no Bo [...] ever ſpoke to him, they were afraid.

WHY, ſays he, when he knocks at the Doo [...] don't ye ſpeak to him?

NO, ſays ſhe, nor does he ſpeak a word; but ju [...] as he goes away he will ſometimes ſay—re⯑peating a word which I do not remember, b [...] ſignifies be comforted; and then they are ſure th [...] Perſon ſhall be ſick only, but ſhall not die.

BUT, ſays he, do they entertain him, or give hi [...] any thing?

YES, ſays ſhe, they ſet Bread before him, an [...] he takes a ſmall Piece in his Hand; but no Bod [...] can ſay they ever ſaw him Eat.

BUT what do you take him to be then? ſays he [...]

[69] A GOOD Angel, ſays the Woman; adding ano⯑ [...]er hard Word of their own, ſignifying that he [...]id no Hurt to any body; and, ſays ſhe, to ſome Families he is a Meſſenger of Good. All this gave them Amuſement, but no particular Satisfaction, and rather prompted their Curioſity to make farther En⯑ [...]uiry about him. After about an Hour's refreſhing themſelves at this poor Cottage, they proceeded on their Journey, and having rode about two Miles, they ſaw their old Object again on the left or north [...]ide of their Road, as before, and he kept in their ſight in the ſame manner all the reſt of the Day.

THERE was a Town, I think 'tis call'd Kint⯑zigen, or ſome ſuch like Name, at a few Miles di⯑ſtance, and where their Guide told them they ſhould lodge, and before they came to the Town there was a River, not a great or very wide River, but too large to ride thro' it, and at the Town there is a ve⯑ [...]y good ſtone Bridge; built, as they were told, by [...]he Anceſtors of the Kings of Pruſſia, that is, as I ſuppoſe, the old Dukes of Pomerania.

ACCORDINGLY they paſs'd this Bridge, and [...]hen went into the Town. It was moſt natural to them to obſerve what Courſe the Traveller would take to paſs the River, who as he went on muſt ne⯑ceſſarily come to the Bank, at near a Mile diſtance from the Town, ſo they halted a little, one of them alighting from his Horſe, as if ſomething had re⯑quired their ſtay, that the Traveller might go on before them, which he did.

OBSERVING him as narrowly as poſſible, they follow'd him (with their Eyes) down to the very Edge of the River, nor did he ſtop or take notice of them, tho' they ſaw him plainly to the very Bank; but here not being able to keep him exactly in their ſight every Moment, they immediately ſaw him going up the riſing Grounds, on the other ſide, [70] without being capable of giving the leaſt accou [...] how he paſs'd the Water.

THIS was the other Paſſage, which, I ſay, am [...]ſed them very much.

AS ſoon as they came into the Town where the [...] were to lodge, their Guide looking beyond th [...] Houſe where they ſtop'd, called to them, Lo [...] yonder, ſays he, is your Traveller ſitting at th [...] Door of ſuch an Inn or Houſe, pointing to th [...] Place; and there they ſaw him plain at the Door [...]ting a piece of Bread, and having a Pot or Jug [...] Poliſh Beer ſtanding by him. One of the Gentleme [...] (reſolving, if poſſible, to ſpeak with him) walk'd up [...] his Boots to the Place, ſeeing him ſitting all the wh [...] he was going, 'till coming very near, and happe [...] ⯑ing to turn his Eyes but one Moment from hi [...] when he look'd again, the Man was gone.

HE ask'd the People of the Houſe about hi [...] but they knew nothing of him, only that as th [...] ſaid there was ſuch a Man, but he was gone, [...] they neither knew who he was, or whither he w [...] gone.

THEN he ask'd them if they did not know th [...] Owke Mouraski; they ſaid Yes, they had heard [...] but they did not know him.

WHY, ſays the Gentleman, don't you know th [...] this was he that ſat upon the Bench?

NO, they ſaid, that could not be he, that was [...] poor Countryman, a Traveller.

THE Gentleman aſſured them that was he; [...] which they ſeemed very much concerned, but ſeeme [...] very willing not to believe him.

WHY, ſays he, are you afraid of him?

NO, ſays they, but we don't like his coming t [...] us, for, they ſay, he brings no good to the Fami [...] where he comes.

BUT this Diſcourſe ended, and the Gentlema [...] gain'd no Information there.

[71] THE next Day they had his Company again, as before; and paſſing by a ſingle Houſe upon the Road, near a Village, but ſtanding quite out of the Road, they obſerv'd the Traveller to ſtop at that Houſe, and go in.

BY this time their Curioſity was very much heighten'd, and they began to be ſomething uneaſy about him; it was not very pleaſant, they thought, to have the Devil ſo near them, and they could think him to be nothing leſs; ſo they all turn'd back, and reſolv'd to go to the Houſe, and if he was there to ſpeak with him, if poſſible; and if not, to inform themſelves as much as they could about him.

WHEN they came within about a quarter of a Mile of the Houſe, they ſaw the Traveller on the other ſide, having gone out at the back Door, and travelling forward as unconcern'd, and taking no notice of them, juſt as before.

THIS ſurprized them; however they went up to the Houſe, and enquired about him, as they did before: but here they receiv'd a quite differing Ac⯑count of him; here the People bleſs'd him, called him by the ſame Name, but took him for their good Angel, (as they call'd him,) that he always brought them good Tidings, that they were ſure it would fare well with them after he had been with them; and a great deal more.

BUT to bring this Story to a concluſion, ſo far as it ſerves the preſent Occaſion: This Spectre, or Apparition, for ſo I muſt call it, attended them 'till they came within two Leagues of Dantzick, where the Gentlemen ſeparated, after a Day or two ſtaying in the City; the three Gentlemen going from thence to Mariemburgh in Poliſh Pruſſia, and our Traveller was left in Dantzick.

WHILE he was here a Man made acquaintance [...]ith him who was bound to Koningsberg, and our Traveller bein [...] reſolv'd to go for Petersburg, was [72] glad to have this new Acquaintance, which he had, as we may ſay, pick'd up, to go with him; ſo they embark'd together in a ſmall Hoy, upon the Sea or Lake call'd the Friſchaff, which carry'd them to Ko⯑ningsberg. He gives a ſtrange tho' diverting Account of his Converſation with this Man, who told him ſo many Stories of ſeveral kinds, that it amaz'd him; and he look'd as if he knew all the World, and all the People in it, and all things that had happened in it, or would happen in it for ever to come, and ſomething longer.

HOWEVER, as the Friſchaff is not above three or four Days ſail, and they were quickly at Ko⯑ningsberg, the Converſation was ſoon over, and this new Acquaintance ended; but the Traveller conti⯑nuing his Journey, enquired in the City if there were any Paſſengers or Gentleman travelling to⯑wards Riga, either by Land or by Sea; and being directed to a Houſe where Strangers uſed to reſort, he found there ſeveral People bound for Riga, ſome Merchants, ſome Country-People, ſome Seafaring⯑People, but moſt enclin'd to go by Sea, there be⯑ing Veſſels always ready at the Pillan, which is a Town at the Mouth of the Haff, ready to Sail for Riga, if Goods or Paſſengers preſented.

BUT among them all there was an ancient Man, habited like a Ruſs, or rather like a Greek Prieſt, with a long venerable Beard, a purple Robe or long Garment, ſuch as the Ruſſians wear, a high ſtiff⯑crown'd Furr-cap, and a cloſe Veſt about his Body, girded with a Silk Saſh; and he declar'd himſelf for Riga; but that being an old Man, he would not go by Sea, but that he had two Horſes in the City beſides his own, having brought two Servants with him from Grodno in Lithuania, but one of them had left him; ſo he offer'd the Traveller to lend him one of his Horſes for his Company, if he would [73] travel with him to Mittan in Courland, and thence to Riga.

IT will take up too much Room here, to give a full Account of the Travels of this wandring Perſon, and how in almoſt every Place he found a new Shape ready to thruſt into his Company, and that for four Years intimate Ramble; but that at laſt, being in Turkey, his lateſt Companion diſco⯑ver'd to him that he was an Inhabitant of an inviſi⯑ble Region, that he had been in his Company in all his Journey in all the differing Figures that he had met with, and that in a Word he was the ſame Perſon that embark'd with him in Ireland, landed with him in Norway, left him at Gottenburg, found him at Straelſund, dogged him upon the way to Dantzick, ſailed with him to Koningsberg, lent him a Horſe to go to Riga, and ſo on; and that he had only put on ſo many Shapes and Appearances, that he might not be uneaſy with him, and tired of his Company.

HOW they went on together after that, and the Converſation that paſs'd between them after the Diſcovery; how familiar Friends they were for ſome Months after, and what Reaſons he gave why he would never believe that it was a Devil, but a good and kind Spirit ſent to take Care of him, and aſſiſt him in his Travels; all that, as foreign to my pre⯑ſent Purpoſe, I omit. Perhaps the Story may ſee the World by itſelf, and well worth reading it will be, if it does. But of that by the by.

AS I do not here enter into the Authority of the Story, (tho', as I ſaid, I have ſeen it in Manuſcript many Years ago) ſo I have no more to ſay from it than this, that if ſuch good Spirits are converſant with Mankind, and reſident in the inviſible Spaces, we know not where; if we have reaſon to believe they are not Angels, and yet really by their Actions can⯑not be Devils; then it follows that there are a [74] certain middle Species of Spirits in Being; let them be what they will, let them be employ'd, directed, limited and reſtrain'd, how and in what manner he pleaſes who is their Maker, and who ought to be their Guide and Director; that's not the matter, nor can it be enquired into here; the Queſtion before us is only whether ſuch there are, or no?

NOW if it be granted that there are ſuch, and that brings it down to the preſent Caſe, if there are ſuch, then all Apparitions are not Devils; no, nor are they walking diſturbed Souls of Men lately embodied and departed: a Notion empty and not to be defended; incongruous, and inconſiſtent either with Scripture, the Chriſtian Religion, or Reaſon, and founded only in the bewildred Imaginations and Dreams of ignorant People, who neither know how or by what Rules to judge of ſuch Things, or are capable of right Conceptions about them; who do not give themſelves time to ex [...]rciſe that little Power of thinking that they are Maſters of, and ſo are left to the Darkneſs of their own Fancies, thinking every thing they ſee is a Devil, meerly becauſe they know not what elſe to make of it, what other Name to give it, or that it can be poſſible any thing but Devils or Ang [...]ls can come of ſuch Errands.

BY this Miſtake they give the Devil the Ho⯑nour of many an Action, which he is too much a Devil to have any hand in; aſcribe Works of Cha⯑rity and Benevolence to him; make him move inju⯑rious and knaviſh Men to do Juſtice, Thieves to make Reſtitution, cruel and inhuman Wretches to be merciful, Cheats to turn honeſt, Robbers to de⯑ſiſt, and Sinners to repent.

STORY tells us, that Hind that famous out-law'd Robber, the moſt famous ſince Robin Hood, met a Spectre upon the Road, in a Place called Stangate⯑Hole, in Hunti [...]gtonſhire, where he uſed to commit [75] his Robberies; and famous for many a Highway Robbery ſince that.

THE Spectre appeared in the Habit of a plain Country Grazier; and as the Devil, you may ſup⯑poſe, knew very well the Haunts and Retreats that this Hind uſed to frequent; he comes into the Inn, and taking up his Quarters, puts up his Horſe, and makes the Hoſtler carry up his Portmanteau, which was very heavy, into his Chamber; when he was in the Chamber he opens his Pack, takes out his Money, which ſeemed to be in ſeveral ſmall Parcels, and puts it together into no more than two Bags, that it might make an equal weight to each ſide of his Horſe, and make as much ſhow of it as poſſible.

HOUSES that entertain Rogues are ſeldom with⯑out Spies to give them due Intelligence; Hind gets Notice of the Money, ſees the Man, ſees the Horſe, that he may know him again; finds out which Way the Countryman travels, meets him at Stan⯑gate-Hole, juſt in the bottom between the two Hills, and ſtops him, telling him he muſt deliver his Money.

WHEN he nam'd the Money the Grazier feigns himſelf ſurprized, puts on the Pannick, trembles, and is frighted, and with a pitiful Tone ſays, I am (as you ſee) but a poor Man; indeed, Sir, I have no Money; [there the Devil ſhew'd that he could ſpeak Truth when it ſerv'd his Occaſion.] O you old Dog, ſays he, have you no Money? Come, open your Cloak-bag, and give me the two Bags, one on one ſide your Saddle, and one on t' other: what, have you no Money, and yet your Bags were too heavy to lie all on one ſide? Come, come, deliver, or I'll cut you to Pieces this Moment. (There he was out too, and threatened more than he cou'd do.) Well, the poor Devil whines and cries, and tells him he muſt be miſtaken, he took him for another Man ſure, for indeed he had no Money.

[76] COME, come, ſays Hind, come along with me; and ſo he takes his Horſe by the Bridle and leads him out of the Road into the Woods, which are very thick there on both ſides, and the buſineſs was too long to ſtand in the open Road all the while to do it.

WHEN he had gotten into the Woods, Come, Mr. Grazier, ſays he, diſmount, and give me the two Bags this Minute. In ſhort he diſmounts the poor Man, cuts his Bridle and his Girts, and opens his Cloak-bag, where he finds the two Bags. Very well, ſays Hind, here they are, and heavy as before; ſo he throws them on the Ground, cuts them open, in one he finds a Halter, and in the other a piece of ſolid Braſs in the exact ſhape of a Gibbet, and the Countryman behind him call'd to him, There's your Fate, HIND, take care.

IF he was ſurprized at what he had found in the Bags, (for there was not a Farthing of Money but in the Bag where the Halter was, of which pre⯑ſently,) I ſay, if he was ſurprized at what he found in the Bags, he was more ſo at hearing the Coun⯑tryman call him by his Name, and turn'd about to kill him, becauſe he thought he was known; but he had no Life nor Soul left in him, when turning about, as I ſay, to kill the Fellow, he ſaw nothing but the poor Horſe. He ſunk down to the Earth, and lay there a conſiderable time; how long, that (being alone) he could not tell, but it muſt be ſome Minutes. At laſt coming to himſelf he goes away terrified to the laſt degree, and aſhamed, wondring what it ſhould be.

I HINTED that there was no Money but one Piece found, which the Story ſays was Scots, a Piece call'd in Scotland a Fourteen, in Engliſh, a Thirteen Pence Half-Penny, to pay the Hangman with; from whence it may be ſuppos'd that Saying is uſed to this [77] Day, that Thirteen Pence Half-Penny is Hangman's Wages.

NOW tho' the Story has ſome Mirth in it, and may with the many Stories of that Robber be laid by as Romances, yet it is thus far to my Purpoſe; That this was a Spirit, that muſt be ac⯑knowledg'd. A good Angel from Heaven wou'd hardly have been ſent to give him ſuch an ineffectu⯑al inſignificant Hint, which had no ſufficient Effect, whatever it might have juſt then to ſurprize him, for he rob'd continually after that, and was hang'd at laſt for it.

THE Devil, as before, cannot rationally be ſuſpe⯑cted in the Caſe; for why ſhould the Devil both bauk him, threaten and caution him? threaten him with hanging him, fright him with the Gibbet and Hal⯑tar, and caution him to take care. This was not for the Devil's Purpoſe, it was more for his Inte⯑reſt to have him go on, though he came to the Gallows at laſt.

IF then it was neither good Angel or Bad, what muſt it be, and how muſt we judge of it? what Name muſt we give him, and who was this Country Graz [...]er?

TO come off of this, ſome will have it be, that it is the Devil under Conſtraint, the Devil in Com⯑miſſion, that he is ſent on ſuch Errands by a ſupe⯑rior Power that has him at Command; and that when he is directed to do ſo and ſo, he muſt obey, he dare do no otherwiſe. This is begging the Que⯑ſtion in the groſſeſt manner imaginable. Beſides, why the Devil ſent of ſuch Errands?

1. IT is not probable, it is not to be gather'd from the ordinary Courſe of Providence. The Devil in⯑deed was permitted, or, if you will have it, he was commiſſion'd to ſtrip and afflict Poor Job; and he was again permitted to enter into the Herd of Swine; but this does not amount to a Paralel: In [78] both thoſe Examples he was only employ'd as an Inſtrument, and, as we may expreſs it, in his ordi⯑nary Buſineſs, in the way of his Calling, that is to ſay in doing Miſchief: But here he is ſuppos'd em⯑ploy'd in doing Good, cautioning a harden'd Rogue to leave off his wicked Courſe, and eſcape the Gallows. Now this is quite out of Satan's road of Buſineſs; 'tis alſo out of the ordinary courſe of Heaven's Conduct, for when do we find God employing the Devil in any good Work? I do not remember one clear Example of it, in all the ſacred Hiſtory.

2. IT would argue that Heaven ſhould want In⯑ſtruments, which is not at all juſt to infer; will they pretend, that, for want of more proper Agents, God ſhould employ the Devil to ſave a High-way Man from the Ga [...]lows? and, which is more than all the reſt, ſhould not bring it to paſs neither? But if you will allow that this was one of the Imaginary ſpecies of Spirits, who, willing to ſave a poor Wretch that was running head long to the Devil, took all theſe Meaſures to alarm him, and bring him to juſt Reflections, but was not able to reclaim him, was not admitted to give him Notice, when he was about the fatal Act he was ſurpriz'd in, or to warn him when the Officers came to apprehend him, this ſeems rational.

IF the Devil ſhould be ſuppos'd to be employ'd in ſuch a Work as this was, and ſo contrary to his Inclination, either he would perform it like him⯑ſelf, treacherous and unfaithful, or at beſt, reluctant and unwilling. Perhaps you will ſay he durſt not perform it treacherouſly and unfaithfully; and it may be not: But why muſt it be ſuppos'd Heaven ſhould employ his wor [...]t and wickedeſt Creature, whom he had long ſince disbanded, and caſt out of his Service, rejecting him as unworthy to be em⯑ploy'd; and who, if he was employ'd, and durſt [79] not decline the Work, yet, it muſt be acknow⯑ledg'd, would obey with the utmoſt [...]verſion and Unwillingneſs; when at the ſame time Millions of faithful Agents, willing and chearfully-obed [...]ent Servants, are ready at command [...] to execute his Will with the utmoſt Vigour and Fidelity?

BUT to leave arguing upon Inſcrutables, let us come to Narration of Facts.

I HAVE another Account received from a parti⯑cular Acq [...]aintance in a neighbouring Nation. I could name Perſons and Places in a more exact manner to theſe Accounts; but ſome Reaſons of State forbid us at this time to enter into the Cir⯑cumſtances of Families. For where Matters of Ap⯑parition and Witchcraft are the Subſtance of the Hiſtor [...], it has never been found reaſonable to name Hou [...]s and Families; and as this Apology will be all [...]w'd to be juſt, I expect it will be accepted by the R [...]ader in all the Examples I ſhall give of this kind.

A CERTAIN Perſon of Quality, being with his Family at his Country-Seat for the Summer⯑Seaſon, according to his ordinary Cuſtom, was ob [...]g [...]d up [...]n a par [...]icular Occaſ [...]on of Health to leave his ſaid Seat, and go to Aix La Chapplle, to u [...]e the Baths there: This was it ſeems in the Month of Auguſt, being two Months ſooner than the uſual time of his returning to Court for the Winter.

UPON thus removing ſooner than ordinar [...], he did not then di [...]furniſh the Ho [...]ſe, as was the ordinary Uſage of the Family, or carry away his Plate and other valuable Goods, but left his Steward and three Servants to look after the Houſe and the Padre or Pariſh Prieſt was deſired to keep his Eye upon them too, and to ſuccour them from the Village adjoining, if there was Occaſion.

THE Steward had no publick Notice of any Harm appro [...]ching; but for three or four Days ſucceſſively [80] he had ſecret ſtrange Impulſes of Dread and Terror upon his Mind that the Houſe was be⯑ſet, and was to be aſſaulted by a Troop of Banditti, or as we call them here, Houſe-breakers, who would murther them all, and after they had robb'd the Houſe, would ſet it on Fire; and this follow'd him ſo faſt, and made ſuch Impreſſion upon his Mind, that he could think of nothing elſe.

UPON this the third Day he went to the Padre, or Pariſh Prieſt, and made his Complaint; upon which the Prieſt and the Steward had the follow⯑ing Diſcourſe, the Steward beginning thus:

FATHER, ſaid he, you know what a Charge I have in my Cuſtody, and how my Lord has intru⯑ſted me with the whole Houſe, and all the rich Furniture is ſtanding; I am in great Perplexity a⯑bout it, and come to you for your Advice.

WHY, what's the Matter? you have not heard of any Miſchief threatned, have you?

NO, I have heard of nothing; but I have ſuch Apprehenſions, and it has made ſuch Impreſſion upon me for theſe three Days, that *

* Here he told him the particulars of the Unea⯑ſineſs he had been in, and added, beſides what is ſaid above, that one of the Servants had the ſame, and had told him of it, tho' he had communicated nothing to that Servant in the leaſt.

IT may be, you dream'd of theſe things?

NO indeed, Padre, I am ſure I could not dream of them, for I could never ſleep.

WHAT can I do for you? What would you have me do?

I WOULD have you firſt of all tell me what you think of theſe things, and whether there is a⯑ny Notice to be taken of them * —

* Here the Padre examin'd him more ſtrictly a⯑bout the Particulars, and ſent for the Servant and examin'd him apart; and being a very judicious honeſt Man, he anſwer'd him thus:

LOOK you, Mr. Steward, I do not lay a very great Streſs upon ſuch things, but yet I don't think they are to be wholly ſlighted; and therefore I would have you be upon your Guard, and if you have the leaſt Alarm let me know.

THAT is poor Satisfaction to me to be up⯑on my Guard, if I am over-power'd. I ſuppoſe, if any Villains have a Deſign to attack me, they know my Strength.

SHALL I reinforce your Garriſon?

I WISH you would.

WELL, I'll ſend you ſome Men with Fire⯑Arms, to lye there this Night.

ACCORDINGLY the Prieſt ſent him five ſtout Fel⯑lows with Fuzees, and a dozen of Hand-Granadoes with them, and while they continu'd in the Houſe nothing appear'd; but the Padre finding nothing come of it, and being loth to put his Patron to ſo continued a Charge, ſent for the Steward, and in a chiding angry Tone, told him his Mind.

I KNOW not how you will anſwer it to my Lord, but you have put him to a prodigious Ex⯑pence here, in keeping a Garriſon in the Houſe all this while.

I AM ſorry for it, Padre; but what can I do?

DO! Why, compoſe your Mind, and keep up your Heart, and don't let my Lord ſpend two or three hundred Livres here, to cure you of the Vapours.

WHY, you ſaid your ſelf, Padre, that it was not to be wholly ſlighted?

THAT'S true; but I ſaid alſo, I would not lay too great a Streſs upon it.

WHAT muſt I do then?

DO! Why, diſmiſs the Men again, and take what Care you can; and if you have any Notice of Miſchief that may be depended upon, let me have Notice too, and I'll aſſiſt you.

WELL then, the good Angel muſt protect my Lord's Houſe, I ſee, for no body elſe will.

Amen, ſays the Padre, I truſt the good Spirits will keep you all: So he bleſs'd the Steward, (in his way) and the Steward went away grumbling very much that he took away his Garriſon, and left him to the good Spirits.

IT ſeems, for all this, that the Steward's Notices, however ſecret, and from he knew not who, wer [...] not of ſo light an Import as the Padre though [...] they were; for as he had this Impulſe upon hi [...] Mind that ſuch Miſchief was brewing, ſo it reall [...] was, as you will ſee preſently.

A SET of Robbers, who had Intelligence th [...] the Nobleman with his Family was gone to A [...] La Chapelle, but that the Houſe was left furniſh' [...] and all the Plate and the things of Value were le [...] in it, had form'd a Deſign to plunder the Houſ [...] and afterwards to burn it, juſt as the S [...]eward h [...] ſaid.

THEY were two and twenty ſtrong in the whol [...] and thoroughly arm'd for Miſchief. Yet while th [...] additional Force, which the Padre had plac'd t [...] reinforce the Steward, were in the Houſe, o [...] whom, including the other four, three ſat up eve [...] Night, they did not dare to attempt it.

BUT as ſoon as they heard that the Guard w [...] diſmiſs'd, they form'd their Deſign anew, and, [...] make the Story ſhort, they attack'd the Houſe [...] ⯑bout Midnight. Having, I ſuppoſe, proper I [...] ⯑ſtruments about them, they ſoon broke open a Wi [...] ⯑dow, and twelve of them got into the Hou [...] the reſt ſtanding Centinel at ſuch Places as th [...] thought proper, to prevent any Succours from t [...] Town.

THE poor Steward and his three Men were [...] great Diſtreſs; they were indeed above Stairs, a [...] had barricadoed the Stair-Caſes as well as th [...] [83] could, hearing the Fellows were breaking in; but when they found they were got in, they expected nothing but to be kept above Stairs 'till the Houſe was plunder'd, and then to be burnt alive.

BUT it ſeems the good Spirits the Prieſt ſpoke of, or ſome body elſe, made better Proviſion for them, as you will ſee preſently.

WHEN the firſt of the Fellows were gotten in⯑ [...]o the Houſe, and had open'd the Door, and let in as many of their Gang as they thought fit, which (as above) was twelve in Number they ſhut the Door [...]gain, and ſhut themſelves in; leaving two without the Door, who had a Watch-word, to go and call more Help if they wanted it.

THE twelve ranging over the great Hall, found [...]ittle there to gratify their greedy Hopes; but brea⯑ [...]ing next into a fine well-furniſh'd Parlour, where [...]he Family uſually ſat, Behold, in a great eaſy Chair, ſat a grave ancient Man, with a long full⯑ [...]ottom'd black Wig, a rich brocaded Gown, and Lawyer's lac'd Band, but looking as if in great [...]urprize, ſeem'd to make Signs to them for Mercy, [...]ut ſaid not a Word, nor they much to him, ex⯑ [...]ept that one of them ſtarting, cry'd, HA! who's [...]ere?

IMMEDIATELY the Rogues fell to pulling [...]own the fine Damask Curtains in the Windows, [...]nd other rich Things; but One ſaid to Another [...]ith an Oath, Make the old Dog tell us where the [...]late is hid; and another ſaid, if he won't tell you, [...]ut his Throat immediately.

THE ancient Gentleman, with Signs of En⯑ [...]eaty, as if begging for his Life, and in a great [...]right, points to a Door; which being open'd [...]ould let them into another Parlour, which was [...]he Gaming-Room, and ſerv'd as a Drawing-Room [...]o the firſt Parlour; and by another Door open'd [...]to the great Salon, which look'd into the Gardens. [84] They were ſome time forcing their way into that Room; but when they came in, they were ſurpriz'd to ſee the ſame old Man, in the ſame Dreſs, and the ſame Chair, ſitting at the upper end of the Room, making the ſame Geſtures, and ſilent En⯑treaties, as before.

THEY were not much concern'd at firſt, but thought he had come in by another Door, and be⯑gan to ſwear at him, for putting them to the Trou⯑ble of breaking open the Door, when there was an⯑other way into the Room. But, another wickeder than the firſt, ſaid, with a heavy Curſe, the old Dog was got in by another Door, on purpoſe to convey away the Plate and Money, and bad knock his Brains out. Upon which the firſt ſwore at him that if he did not immediately ſhow them where i [...] was, he was a dead Dog that Moment.

UPON this furious Uſage, he points to the Doo [...] which opened into the Salon, which being a thi [...] Pair of Folding-Doors open'd preſently, and i [...] they run into the great Salon; when looking at th [...] farther end of the Room, there ſat the ancien [...] Man again, in the ſame Dreſs and Poſture as be⯑fore.

UPON this Sight, thoſe that were foremoſ [...] among them cry'd out aloud, Why, this old Fel⯑low deals with the Devil ſure, he's here afore u [...] again.

BUT the Caſe differ'd a little now; for whe [...] they came out of the firſt Parlour, being eager fo [...] the Plate and Money, and willing to find it ALL [...] the whole Body of them run out into the ſecon [...] Parlour; but now the ancient Man pointing to th [...] third Room, they did not all immediately ruſh ou [...] into the Salon, but four of them were left behin [...] in the Parlour or Gaming-Room mention'd juſ [...] now, not by order or deſign, but accidentally.

[85] BY this Means they fell into the following Con⯑fuſion; for while ſome of them call'd out from the Salon, that the old Rogue was there before them again; others anſwer'd out of the Parlour, How the Devil can that be? why, he is here ſtill in his Chair, and all his Rubbiſh: with that, two of them run back into the firſt Parlour, and there they ſaw him aga [...] ſitting as before. Notwithſtanding all this, far from gueſſing what the Occaſion ſhould be, they fancied they were gamed, or ſuggeſted that they were but jeſted with, and that there were three ſeveral old Men all dreſs'd up in the ſame Habits for the very ſame Occaſion, and to mock them, as if to let them know that the Men above in the Houſe were not afraid of them.

WELL, ſays one of the Gang, I'll diſpatch one of the old Rogues, I'll teach one of them how to make Game at us: upon which, raiſing his Fuzee as high as his Arm would let him, he ſtruck at the antient Man, as he thought it was, with all his Force; but behold! there was nothing in the Chair, and his Fuzee flew into a thouſand Pieces, wound⯑ing his Hand moſt grievouſly, and a Piece of the Barrel ſtriking him on the Head, broke his Face, and knock'd him down backward.

AT the ſame time, one of thoſe in the Salon run⯑ning at the antient Man that ſat there, ſwore he would tear his fine brocaded Gown off, and then he would cut his Throat: but when he went to take hold of him, there was nothing in the Chair.

THIS happening in both Rooms, they were all in moſt horrible Confuſion, and cry'd out in both Rooms at the ſame Moment, in a terrible manner.

AS they were in the utmoſt Amazement at the thing, ſo after the firſt Clamour they ſtood looking upon one another for ſome time, without ſpeaking a Word more; but at length one ſaid, Let's go back into the firſt Parlour and ſee if that's gone [86] too; and with that Word, two or three that were on that ſide, run into the Room, and there ſat the antient Figure as at firſt; upon which they called to the Company, and told them, they believed they were all bewitch'd, and 'twas certain they only fancy'd they ſaw a Man in the other Rooms, for there was the real old Man ſitting where he was at firſt.

UPON this they all run thither, ſaying, they would ſee whether it was the Devil or no; and one of them ſaid, Let me come; I'll ſpeak to him; 'tis not the firſt time I have talk'd with the Devil.

NAY, ſays another, ſo will I; and then added with an Oath, Gentlemen that were upon ſuch Buſineſs as they were, ought not to be afraid to ſpeak to the Devil.

A THIRD (for now their Courage began to riſe again) calls aloud, Let it be the Devil, or the Devil's Grandmother, I'll parley with it, I am reſolv'd I'll know what it is: and with that he runs forward before the reſt, and croſſing himſelf, ſays to the an⯑tient Man in the Chair, in the Name of St [...] Francis, and St.—(and ſo reckon'd up two or three Saints Names that he depended were enough to fright the Devil) What art thou?

THE Figure never mov'd or ſpoke; but looking at its Face, they preſently found, that inſtead of his pitiful Looks, and ſeeming to beg for his Life, as he did before, he was chang'd into the moſt horrible Monſter that ever was ſeen, and ſuch as I cannot deſcribe; and that inſtead of his Hands held up to them to cry for Mercy, there were two large fiery Daggers, not flaming, but red hot, and pointed with a livid bluiſh Flame, and in a word, the Devil or ſomething elſe, in the moſt frightful Shape that can be imagin'd. And it was my Opinion, when I firſt read the Story, the Rogues were ſo frighted, that their Imagination afterwards form'd a thing in their Thoughts more terrible than the Devil himſelf could appear in.

[87] BUT be that as it will, his Figure was ſuch, that when they came up to him, not a Man of them had Courage to look in his Face, much leſs talk to him; and he that was ſo bold, and thus came arm'd with half a Regiment of Saints in his Mouth, fell down flat on the Ground, having fainted away (as they call it) with the Fright.

THE Steward and his three Men were all this while above ſtairs, in the utmoſt Concern at the Danger they were in, and expecting every Moment the Rogues would ſtrive to force their Way up, and cut their Throats; They heard the confus'd Noiſe that the Fellows made below, but cou'd not imagine what it was, and much leſs the Meaning of it: but while it laſted it came into the Mind of one of the Servants, that as it was certain the Fellows were all in the Parlour, and very buſy there, whatever it was about, he might go up to the Top of the Houſe and throw one of their Hand-Granadoes down the Chimney, and per⯑haps it might do ſome Execution among them.

THE Steward approved of this Deſign, only with this Addition; if we throw down but into one Parlour, they will all fly into the Gaming⯑room, and ſo it will do no Execution; but, ſays he, take three, and put down one into each Chimney, for the Funnels go up all together, and then they will not know which Way to run.

WITH theſe Orders two of the Men, who ve⯑ry well knew the Place, went up, and firing the Fuzees of the Granadoes, they put one Shell into each of the Funnels, and down they went roaring in the Chimney with a terrible Noiſe, and (which was more than all the reſt) they came down into the Parlour where almoſt all the Rogues were, juſt at the Moment that the Fellow that ſpoke to the Spectre was frighted into a ſwooning Fit, and fallen on the Floor.

[88] THE whole Gang was frighted beyond Ex⯑preſſion; ſome run back into the gaming Parlour whence they came, and ſome run to the other Door which they came in at from the Hall; but all, at the ſame Inſtant, heard the Devil, as they thought it was, coming down the Chimney.

HAD it been poſſible that the Fuzees of the Gra⯑nadoes could have continued burning in the Funnel of the Chimnies, where the Sound was a thouſand times doubled by the hollow of the Place, and where the Soot burning fell down in Flakes of Fire, the Rogues had been frighted out of their Under⯑ſtandings; imagining, that as they had one dreadful Devil juſt among them in the Chair, ſo there were ten thouſand more coming down the Chimney to deſtroy them all; and perhaps to carry them all away.

BUT that could not be; ſo after they had been ſufficiently ſcared with the Noiſe, down came the Shells into the Rooms, all three together: It happen'd as luckily as if it had been contriv'd on purpoſe, that the Shell which came down into the Parlour where they all were, burſt as ſoon as ever it came to the Bottom, ſo that it did not give them time o much as to think what it might be, much leſs to know that it was really a Hand-Granadoe; but as it did great Execution among them, ſo they as certainly believ'd it was the Devil, as they believed the Spectre in the Chair was the Devil.

THE Noiſe of the burſting of the Shell was ſo ſudden and ſo unexpected, that it confounded them, and the Miſchief was alſo terrible; the Man that fainted and who lay on the Ground was killed out⯑right, and two more that ſtood juſt before the Chimney; five of them were deſperately wounded, whereof one had both his Legs broke, and was ſo deſp [...]rate, that when the People from the Country [89] came in, he ſhot himſelf thro' the Head with his own Piſtol, to prevent his being taken.

HAD the reſt of them fled out of the Parlour into the two other Rooms, 'tis probable they had been wounded by the other Shells; but as they heard the Noiſe in both the outer Rooms, and be⯑ſides were under the Surpriſe of its being not a Hand-Granado, but the Devil, they had no Power to ſtir; nor, if they had, could they know which way to go to be ſafe: ſo they ſtood ſtock ſtill 'till both the Shells in the other Rooms burſt alſo; at which be⯑ing confounded, as well with the Noiſe as with the Smoke, and expecting more Devils down the Chimney where they ſtood, they run out all that Way, and made to the Door, helping their wound⯑ed Men along as well as they could; whereof one died in the Fields after they were got away.

IT muſt be obſerv'd, when they were thus alarmed with they knew not, what coming down the Chimney, they cryed out, that the Devil in the Chair had ſent for more Devils to deſtroy them; and 'twas ſuppos'd that had the Shells never come down they would all have run away. But certain it was, that the artificial Devil joyning ſo critically as to Time with the viſionary Devils, or whatever they were, compleated their Diſorder, and forced them to fly.

WHEN they came to the Door to the two Men, they made ſignals for their Comrades, who were poſted in the Avenues to the Houſe, to come to their Relief; who accordingly came up, and aſ⯑ſiſted to carry off their Wounded Men: but after hearing the Relation of thoſe that had been in the Houſe, and calling a ſhort Council a little way from the Door, (which, tho' dark as it was, the Steward and his Men could perceive from the Win⯑dow,) they all reſolved to make off.

[90] THERE was another concurring Accident, which tho' it does not relate to my Subject, I muſt ſet down to compleat the Story, viz. That two of theſe Granadoes by the Fire of their Fuzes ſet the Chim⯑neys on Fire; the third being in a Funnel that had no Soot in it, the Room having not been ſo much uſed, did not. This Fire flaming out at the top, as is uſual, was ſeen by ſome Body in the Village, who run immediately and allarmed the Prieſt or P [...]d [...], and h [...] again rais'd the whole Town, be⯑lieving there was ſome [...]hief fallen out, and that the Houſe was ſet on Fir [...].

HAD the reſt of the Gang not [...]ſolv'd to make off, as is ſaid above, they had certain [...] fallen into the Hands of the Townſmen, who ran immediately with what Arms came next to Hand, to the Houſe. But the Rogues were fled, leaving, as above, three of their Company dead in the Houſe, and one in the Field.

I MUST confeſs, I cannot draw many Inferences to my purpoſe from the Particulars of this Story, which however I have told for your Diverſion; but from the General I may; namely, This Apparition was certainly not in favour of the Robbery; and if all the Particulars are true in Fact as related, we can hardly with Juſtice place them to Satan's Account. Take him as a Deſtroyer and a Father of Miſchief, he could not be ſuppos'd to have appear'd to pre⯑vent the Robbing the Houſe, or to aſſiſt the Steward in the Houſe in defence of his Maſter's Goods: what Good Spirit this muſt be, and from whence, is then a remaining Queſtion, and that brings it to my purpoſe again.

I SHALL give you another Story out of more Authentick Records, tho' related in a different manner by ſeveral People, as their ſeveral Intereſts inclin'd them.

[91] JAMES IV. King of Scotland being per⯑ſwaded by the Clergy [...] and the Biſhops to break with England, and declare War againſt Henry VIII, contrary to the Advice of his Nobility and Gentry, who were to bear both the Expence and the Blows of a Battel; I ſay, the King, thus over-ruled by the Clergy, raiſes an Army, and prepared to march to the Frontiers; but the Evening before he was to take the Field, as he was at Veſpers in the Chappel Royal at his Palace of Lithgo or Linlithgow, an an⯑tient Man appear'd to him with a long Head of Hair of the Colour of Amber, (ſome Accounts would repreſent it as a Glory painted round a Head by the Limners) and of a venerable Aſpect, having on a ruſtick Dreſs, that is to ſay, in that Country Lan⯑guage, a belted Plaid girded round with a Linnen Saſh. This Man was (as it ſeems by the Story) per⯑ceived by the King before he came cloſe up to him, and before he was ſeen by any of the People; and the King alſo perceiv'd him to be earneſtly looking at him, and at the Noble Perſons about him, as if deſiring to ſpeak to him.

AFTER ſome little time he preſs'd thro' the Crowd, and came cloſe up to the King, and, with⯑out any Bow or Reverence made to his Perſon, told him with a low Voice, but ſuch as the King could hear very diſtinctly, That he was ſent to him to warn him, not to proceed in the War which he had undertaken at the Sollicitation of the Prieſts, and in Favour of the French; and that if he did go on with it he ſhould not proſper. He added al [...]o, that he ſhould abſtain from his Lewd and Unchri⯑ſtian Practices with wicked Women, for that if he did not, it would iſſue in his D [...]ſtruction.

HAVING deliver'd his Meſſage he immediately vaniſh'd; for tho' his preſſing up to the King had put the whole Aſſembly in diſorder, and that every one's Eye was fix'd upon him, while he was delivering [92] his Meſſage to the King; yet not one could ſee him any more, or perceive his going back from the King; which put them all into the utmoſt Con⯑ſternation.

THE King himſelf alſo was in great Confuſion; he would fain have believ'd the Spectre was a Man, and would have ſpoken to it again, and would have ask'd ſome Queſtions of him. But the People con⯑ſtantly and with one Voice affirm'd that it was an Angel, and that it immediately diſappear [...]d after the Meſſage was deliver'd; that they plainly ſaw him and felt him thruſting to get by them as he went up, but not one could ſee him go back.

THE King upon this was ſatisfied that 'twas not a real Body, but an Apparition; and it put him into a great Conſternation, and cauſed him to delay his March a-while, and call ſeveral Councils of his No⯑bility to conſider what to do.

BUT the King being ſtill over-perſwaded by thoſe Engines who were employ'd by Mon⯑ſieur LA MOTTE, the French Ambaſſador; con⯑tinu'd in his Deſigns for a War, and advanc'd after⯑wards with his Army to the Tweed, which was in thoſe times the uſual Boundary of the two Kingdoms.

HERE the Army reſted ſome time, and the King being at Jedburgh, a known Town in thoſe Parts, as he was ſitting drinking Wine very plen⯑tifully in a great Hall of the Houſe, where his Head⯑Quarters was then held, ſuppos'd to be the old Earl of Morton's Houſe in that Town; the Spectre came to him a ſecond time, tho' not in the Form which it appear'd in at Lithgo; but with leſs regard or re⯑ſpect to the Prince, and in an imperious Tone told him, he was commanded to warn him not to proceed in that War, which if he did, he ſhould loſe not the Battel only, but his Crown and Kingdom: and that after this, without ſtaying for any Anſwer, like the Hand to King Ahaſuerus, it went to the Chimney, [93] and wrote in the Stone over it, or that which we call the Mantle-piece, the following Diſtich,

THAT the King did not liſten to either of theſe Notices, our Hiſtories, as well as Buchanan the Hi⯑ſtorian of Scotland, take Notice of very publickly; and that he marcht on, fought the Engliſh at Flodden-Field, and there loſt his Army, all his for⯑mer Glory, and his Life, is alſo recorded; I need ſay no more of it.

THESE two Apparitions were certainly from ſuch Spirits as we are ſpeaking of, viz. ſuch as mean well to Mankind, and being Good and Beneficent in their Nature, would prevent the ruin or de⯑ſtruction of thoſe whom they appear to: But have not always Power to direct the Meaſures, or to oblige the Perſons to hearken to their Advice.

HAD it been a Heavenly Viſion, 'tis more than probable it would have laid hold of the King's Hand, as the Apparition of Angels did to Lot, and as it were dragg'd him away, and ſaid You ſhall not go forward, that you may not be d [...]eated and ſlain, both you and your Army.

AGAIN, had it been the Devil, or an Appari⯑tion from Hell, the Meſſage would never have been for Good; it would never have warn'd him to avoid the Battel, which ſhould be ſo fatal to him, and in which ſo much Innocent Blood ſhould be ſhed to gratify the Prieſts, who 'twas not doubted were brib'd or otherwiſe influenc'd by France, and by which the King ſhould be ſure to loſe his Life.

THE Devil is too great a lover of Miſchief to concern himſelf in ſuch an eminent manner for a Publick Good; too great an Enemy to Mankind to take the Trouble to caution the King twice, and [94] ſend, as we may ſay, two Expreſſes to him to ſave his Life, and prevent a War; nor can we ſuppoſe the Devil concern'd to promote Peace in the World, but juſt the contrary; 'tis his buſineſs to Foment Diſtractions, publick Confuſions, and War.

BUT ſhould we ſuppoſe for once that the Devil ſtand [...]ng Neuter between the two Nations, ſhould go ſo far out of his way as to endeavour to keep the Peace for that time only; yet what ſhall we ſay to the other Part of the Meſſage at Lithgo, viz. That he ſhould abſtain from his Lewdneſs, and from his ſcandalous Life, his familiarity with Women, and the like? Did ever the Devil pretend to this in his Life? if this cou'd be the Devil, then he muſt be allow'd to act very much out of his ordinary Way, as ſome expreſs it; 'tis not his profeſs'd, avow'd Practice.

WHAT then muſt theſe Appearances be, and from whence? And how reaſonable is it from all theſe things to believe, that there are ſome other Spirits which we yet know nothing of, or but very little, who do ſo far concern themſelves for the good of Mankind, as that they frequently appear to us to warn us of Danger, to alarm us at the Approach of Impending Miſchief; adviſing and cautioning us from evil Courſes, and evil Actions, as what is deſtructive to our preſent as well as fu⯑ture Felicity?

IF it be Objected, that ſome have owned them⯑ſelves to be the Souls of departed Perſons, as of near Relations, Wives, Husbands, &c. and have appear'd in their Likneſs, and even in their Cloaths; it is anſwer'd, That is no Argument againſt the thing at all; becauſe as Spirits are allow'd in our preſent Diſcourſe to aſſume any Shape, ſo it is not doubted but they may take up the Shape of the Dead as well as of the Living, and may aſſume the [95] very Cloaths, Countenances, and even Voices of dead Perſons; and it muſt be ſo, or elſe we muſt fall into all the abſurdities of Souls remaining in a wandring, unappointed, unſettled ſtate after Life; which, if it ſhould be granted, we muſt in many things contradict the Scripture, and the receiv'd Opinions of all the re⯑form'd Churches, and almoſt of all good Men even in all Ages.

CHAP. VII. Of the many ſtrange Inconveniences and ill Conſequences which would attend us in this World, if the Souls of Men and Wo⯑men, unembodyed and departed, w [...]re at Li⯑berty to viſit the Earth, from whence they had been diſmiſs'd, and to concern themſelves about Human Affairs, either ſuch as had been their own, or that were belonging to other People.

I BELIEVE there are few ſpeculative Deluſi⯑ons more univerſally receiv'd than this, that thoſe things we call Spectres, Ghoſts, and Apparitions, are really the departed Souls of thoſe Perſons who they are ſaid to repreſent.

WE ſee, or pretend to ſee, our very Friends and Relations actually cloath'd with their old Bodies, tho' we know thoſe Bodies to be embowell'd, ſ [...] ⯑parated, and rotting in the Grave; as c [...]rtainly as the Head and Quarters of a Man [...]xecuted for Treaſon are drying in the Sun upon the Gates of the City: we ſee them dreſs'd up in the very Cloaths which we have cut to pieces and given away, ſome to one body ſome to another, or appli [...]d to this or that uſe; ſo [96] that we can give an Account of every Rag of them: we hear them ſpeaking with the ſame Voice and Sound, tho' the Organ which form'd their for⯑mer Speech we are ſure is periſhed and gone.

THESE Similitudes of things fix it upon our Thoughts, that it muſt be the ſame; that the Souls of our late Friends are actually come to reviſit us; which is to me, I confeſs, the moſt incongruous and unlikelieſt thing in the World.

FIRST, They muſt have a very mean Opinion of the future State, and the exalted Condition of the Bleſſed, that can imagine they are to be inter⯑rupted in their Joy; and even diſquieted, as Samuel ſaid to Saul, by the importunities of this World's Affairs: Why haſt thou diſquieted me, to bring me up? as if it was in the Power of a deſpicable Witch to bring him up, for it intimates a Force, whether he would or not; which does not at all correſpond with the high Thoughts we are directed to enter⯑tain of the perfect Felicity of that State, of which Eye has not ſeen, or Ear heard, or Heart conceived.

SECONDLY, They muſt have likewiſe very mean Thoughts of the State of everlaſting Miſery, who can think that the Spirits in Priſon can get looſe from thoſe determined Chains, to come hither and attend upon the Trifles of Life; nor do I know whether it would be worth their ſhifting Hell, and coming back to this World in the wandring Condi⯑tion thoſe Things call'd Ghoſts are underſtood to be; or indeed to reaſſume a Body, without mak⯑ing Life a State of farther Probation. For what would Life be here for a few Years ſubjected to hu⯑man Infirmity, want, diſtreſs, and caſualty, and no alteration poſſible of their future State, no Hope, no room for changing the Sentence? They know little of that Hell call'd Deſpair, that can think it more ſupportable in this World, than the Eternal State, which it is a proſpect of, is in that to come.

[97] BUT this is too grave abundance for the Times [...] and therefore I ſay no more of that Part; but I muſt bring the Caſe nearer to our preſent Taſte, as well as to our Capacity.

LET us next enquire into the Neceſſity of diſturbing or diſquieting our departed Friends, with or about the Concerns of their Families: If their coming is by the Permiſſion of Providence, then I demand what Occaſion is there for it? and of what Service is it? ſeeing the ſame Providence is able to employ other Servants of the ſame Errand, and to do the ſame Buſineſs, and who will not only do it as well, but to be ſure much better. It is anſwer'd, the Sovereignty of Providence is not to be diſputed, He may do what he pleaſes, and em⯑ploy who he pleaſes: but then the Wiſdom of Providence too is not known to act inconſiſtent with itſelf; and, which is a ſufficient Anſwer to all the reſt, we are allowed to judge of all theſe things by our reaſoning Powers, nor have we any other Rules to judge by; and it can be no Crime to rea⯑ſon with calmneſs, and with due reſpect to ſuperior Power, upon the ordinary Adminiſtration even of Heaven itſelf.

I'LL ſuppoſe that no Apparitions were allow'd to ſhew themſelves on Earth, but on Occaſions of ſome unuſual Conſequence, and that then they might always be expected; and there are many affirm it to be ſo; (tho' I openly ſay I do not,) but ſuppoſe it, I ſay; and that whenever theſe things have appear'd it was in eſpecial Caſes, ſuch as of manifeſtly injur'd Right, Oppreſſion of Widows and Orphans, Wrong done to Perſons unable to do themſelves Juſtice, depreſs'd Poverty, and many ſuch Caſes which Souls are ſaid to be anxious about, even after Death; I ſay, if it were ſo, the World is at this time (and, perhaps, has always been) ſo full of Violence, Injuſtice, [98] Fraud and Oppreſſion, that the Souls of our depa [...] ⯑ted Friends would hardly ever be at reſt.

HOW many weeping Widows, ſtarving Or⯑phans and oppreſs'd Families have in our Age ſuf⯑fer'd by the loſs of the Money which their Fathers and other Anceſtors left for their Subſiſtance and Eſtabliſhment in a certain City Chamber, or put into a certain Exchequer upon the publick Faith? According to this Notion, neither the viſible or in⯑viſible World would have been at Peace: the habi⯑ted viſible World would have been continually haunted with Ghoſts, and we ſhould never have been quiet for the Diſturbance of Spirits and Appa⯑ritions: the inviſible World would have been in a continued Hurry and Uneaſineſs; Spirits and Unem⯑bodied Souls asking leave to go back again to ſee their Wills rightly perform'd, and to harraſs their Executors for injuring their Orphans; and all the Ages of Time would have been taken up in giving Satisfaction to them in ſuch and ſuch Caſes.

IT was the Saying of a Roman, (indeed, I mean, a Roman in Religion) that it was a Sign to him, paſt all Diſpute, that the Dead could never come to the Quick, becauſe the Teſtators of all thoſe Cha⯑tities given by departed Souls of Saints for the Maintenance of Hoſpitals, Chantries, Colleges, Churches, and religious Houſes, as well in Money as in Lands and Inheritances, did not walk, and haunt King Hen. VIII, and pull him not out of his Throne only, but out of his Grave, for taking a⯑way, as he did, all thoſe Rents and Revenues, Lands and Eſtates from the religious Houſes to which they belong'd.

NOW if they were not diſquieted for ſo great a Piece of Injuſtice, why ſhould they be forcibly di⯑ſturb'd for Trifl [...]s, compar'd to thoſe great Events?

AGAIN, ſhould departed Souls get leave to come back to this World, to ſee Juſtice done to their Famili [...]s [99] and Relations, how comes it to paſs that they have not done it on ſuch frequent Occaſions as are daily given them in the World? And why do any People enjoy peaceably the Eſtates which they got wrongfully? The Works of Heaven are all perfect. Would he have ſent Angels or Spirits to procure Ju⯑ſtice to be done only in Part, and not in the Whole? And how much Arrears is the wicked Part of the World then in, to the better Part? And which way is it poſſible Right ſhould now be done?

BESIDES, to go back to publick Things; what Rage, what Violences, Rapins, Ruins, not of Perſons only, but of Nations, have we ſeen and heard of in the World? and yet we ſee Death puts an End to all Grievance, or Complaints of Grievance whatſo⯑ever; the departed Souls reſt undiſturb'd about it, Reſentment all dies with them; and whatever the Apparitions, which we call Souls, have pretended, or we have pretended for them, the Souls them⯑ſelves are perfectly unconcern'd at it all.

WHAT Apparitions have been, have certainly been of thoſe bleſſed Angelick Spirits, who may ſo far have concern'd themſelves in ſome Caſes of Violence, Op⯑preſſion, manifeſt and atrocious Frauds, to allarm the Offenders, and thereby bring them to do Right, as well for their own good as for the Relief of the oppreſs'd Sufferers, who, perhaps, have invok'd the Divine Juſtice againſt them.

HENCE give me leave to obſerve, tho' it is ſtill a little ſerious, and perhaps you may think it is out of the way, that 'tis not a thing of the leaſt Concern to us to have the Cry of the Poor againſt us, or to have the Widows and Orphans, who we have injur'd and oppreſs'd, look up to Heaven for Relief againſt us, when they, perhaps, have not Money to go to Law, or to obtain or ſeek Remedy againſt us in the ordinary way of Juſtice. I had much ra [...]her have an unjuſt Enemy draw his Sword upon [100] me, than an injur'd poor Widow cry to Heaven for Juſtice againſt me; and I think I ſhould have much more Reaſon to be afraid of the Laſt than the Firſt, the Effect is moſt likely to be fatal. Job. xxxiv. 28. and Exod. xxii. 22, 23. Ye ſhall not afflict any Widow or Fatherleſs Child: If thou afflict them in any wiſe, and they cry at all unto me, I will ſurely hear their Cry; and v. 24. And your Wives ſhall be Widows, and your Children Fatherleſs. But this is a Digreſſion, and of a kind I ſhall not fall of⯑ten into.

BUT as much as I think there is Reaſon to ap⯑prehend the Prayers of the oppreſs'd Widow and Orphan, or of any injur'd Fellow-Creatures; yet I muſt acknowledge I ſee no Reaſon to be afraid of their Ghoſts, or of their Souls viſiting me, in order to terrifie me into a Change of the evil Practice, and a humour or reſolve of doing Right to their Fa⯑milies.

CONSCIENCE, indeed, is a frightful Apparition itſelf, and I make no Queſtion but it oftentimes haunts an oppreſſing Criminal into Reſtitution, and is a Ghoſt to him ſleeping or waking: nor is it the leaſt Teſtimony of an inviſible World that there is ſuch a Drummer as that in the Soul, that can beat an [...]llarm when he pleaſes, and ſo loud, as no other Noiſe can drown it, no Muſick quiet it or make it huſh, no Power ſilence it, no Mirth allay it, no Bribe corrupt it.

CONSCIENCE raiſes many a Devil, that all the Magick in the World can't lay; it ſhows us many an Apparition that no other Eyes can ſee, and ſets Spectr [...]s before us with which the Devil has no Acquaintance; Conſcience makes Ghoſts walk, and departed Souls appear, when the Souls themſelves know nothing of it.

THIS thing called Conſcience is a ſtrange bold Diſturber, it works upon the Imagination with an []

[101] invincible Force; like Faith, it makes a Man view things that are not, as if they were; feel things that are not to be felt, ſee things that are not to be ſeen, and hear things that are not to be heard; it commands the Senſes, nay even the Tongue it ſelf, which is ſo little under Command, ſubmits to this ſovereign Mandate; and tho' I do not ſee that Conſcience always over-rules it to Silence, yet it often makes it ſpeak, even whether it would or no, and that to its own Ruin and Deſtruction; making the guilty Man accuſe himſelf, and confeſs what his Policy had before ſo effectually conceal'd, that no Eye had ſeen it, no Evidence could prove it.

THE Murtherer ſees the murther'd Innocent as plainly before his Eyes, as if he was actually ſent back from his Place to charge him; nay, he ſees him without Eyes, he is preſent with him ſleeping and waking; he ſees him when he is not to be ſeen, and teſtifies to his own Guilt, with no need of other Witneſs.

I HAVE heard a Story which I believe to be true, of a certain Man who was brought to the Bar of Juſtice on Suſpicion of Murther, which how⯑ever he knew it was not in the Power of human Knowledge to detect. When he came to hold up his Hand at the Bar, he pleaded, Not Guilty; and the Court began to be at a Loſs for a Proof, no⯑thing but Suſpicion and Circumſtances appearing; however ſuch Witneſſes as they had they examin'd as uſual; the Witneſs ſt [...]nding up, as is uſual, upon a little Step, to be viſible to the Court.

WHEN the Court thought they had no more Witneſſes to examine, and the Man in a few Mo⯑ments would have been acquitted; he gives a Start at the Bar, as if he was frighted; but recovering his Courage a little, he ſtretches out his Arm to⯑wards the Place where the Witneſſes uſually ſtood [102] to give Evidence upon Tryals, and pointing with his Hand, My Lord, ſays he, (aloud) that is not fair, 'tis not according to Law, he's not a legal Witneſs.

THE Court is ſurpriz'd, and could not under⯑ſtand what the Man meant; but the Judge, a Man of more Penetration, took the Hint, and checking ſome of the Court that offer'd to ſpeak, and which would have perhaps brought the Man back again to himſelf; Hold, ſays the Judge, the Man ſees ſomething more than we do, I begin to underſtand him; and then ſpeaking to the Priſoner,

WHY, ſays he, is not he a legal Witneſs? I be⯑lieve the Court will allow his Evidence to be good, when he comes to ſpeak.

NO, my Lord, it cannot be juſt, it can't be al⯑lowed, ſays the Priſoner, (with a confuſed Eagerneſs in his Countenance, that ſhew'd he had a bold Heart but a guilty Conſcience.)

WHY not, Friend, what Reaſon do you give for it? ſays the Judge.

MY Lord, ſays he, no Man can be allowed to be Wineſs in his own Caſe; he is a Party, my Lord, he can't be a Witneſs.

BUT you miſtake, ſays the Judge, for you are in⯑dicted at the Suit of the King, and the Man may be a Witneſs for the King, as in caſe of a Robbe⯑ry on the Highway we always allow the Perſon robb'd is a good Witneſs; and without this the Highway-man could not be convicted; but we ſhall hear what he ſays, when he is examined.

THIS the Judge ſpoke with ſo much Gravity, and ſo eaſie and natural, that the Criminal at the Bar anſwer'd, Nay, if you will allow him to be a good Witneſs, then I am a dead Man: the laſt Words he ſaid with a lower Voice than the reſt, but withal called for a Chair to ſit down.

[103] THE Court order'd him a Chair, which if he had not had, 'twas thought he would have ſunk down at the Bar; as he ſat down he was obſerved to be in a great Conſternation, and lifted up his Hands ſeveral times, repeating the Words, a dead Man, a dead Man, ſeveral times over.

THE Judge, however, was at ſome Loſs how to act, and the whole Court appear'd to be in a ſtrange Conſternation, tho' no body ſaw any thing but the Man at the Bar; at length the Judge ſaid to him, Look you Mr.—calling him by his Name, You have but one way left that I know of, and I'll read it to you out of the Scripture; and ſo calling for a Bible he turns to the Book of Joſhua, and reads the Text, Joſh. vii. 19. And Joſhua ſaid unto Achan, my Son, give, I pray thee, Glory to the Lord God of Iſrael, and make Confeſſion unto him, and tell me now what thou haſt done, hide it not from me.

HERE the Judge exhorted him to confeſs his Crime, for he ſaw, no doubt, an Evidence ready to convict him, and to diſcover the whole Matter a⯑gainſt him; and if he did not confeſs, Heaven would, no doubt, ſend Witneſs to detect him.

UPON this the ſelf-condemn'd Murtherer burſt out into Tears and ſad Lamentations for his own miſerable Condition, and made a full Confeſ⯑ſion of his Crime; and when he had done, gave the following Account of his Caſe, as to the Rea⯑ſons of his being under ſuch a Surprize, viz. That he ſaw the murther'd Perſon ſtanding upon the Step as a Witneſs, ready to be examined againſt him, and ready to ſhew his Throat which was cut by the Priſoner, and who, as he ſaid, ſtood ſtaring full upon him with a frightful Countenance; and this confounded him: (as well it might) and yet there was no real Apparition, no Spectre, no Ghoſt or Appearance, it was all figur'd out to him by the Power of his own Guilt, and the Agitations of [104] his Soul, fir'd and ſurpriſed by the Influence of Con⯑ſcience.

THE Soul of th [...] Murther'd Perſon ſeeks no Revenge; all that Part is ſwallowed up in the Wonders of the eternal State, and Vengeance entirely reſign'd to him to whom it belongs; but the Soul of the Murtherer is like the Ocean in a Tempeſt, he is in continual Motion, reſtleſs and raging; and the Guilt of the Fact, like the Winds to the Sea, lies on his Mind as a conſtant Preſſure, and adds to that, (ſtill like the Seas) 'tis hurry'd about by its own Weight, rolling to and again, Motion encrea⯑ſing Motion, 'till it becomes a m [...]er Maſs of Hor⯑rour and Confuſion.

IN this diſtracted Condition, Conſcience, like a Storm at Sea, ſtill breaks over him; firſt gathers about him in a thick black Cloud, threatning the Deaths that it comes loaded with; and after hove⯑ring about him for a-while, at laſt burſts with Lightnings and Thunder, and the poor ſhatter'd Veſſel ſuffers Shipwreck, ſinks, and is over-whelm'd in the Middle of it.

IF Juſtice does not overtake him, if he is not diſcover'd and detected, and brought to publick Shame, as the Laws of Go [...] and Man require; How is he put to the Queſtion (ſo they call it in Coun⯑tries abroad, when Men are put to the Rack to make them confeſs) how is he tortur'd with the Terrors of his own Thoughts, haunted with the Ghoſts of his own Imagination, and Apparitions without Apparition? the murther'd Perſon is al⯑ways in his Sight, and Cries of Blood are ever in his Ears, 'till at laſt, leſs able to bear the Torture of Mind than the Puniſhment of his Carcaſs, he even dies for fear of Death, murthers himſelf, and goes away in Horror; or, if Heaven is merciful to him, delivers himſelf up to Juſtice, and dies a Pe⯑nitent.

[105] I COULD give many flagrant Inſtances of this, enough to crowd up this whole Work, but I have not room for it; take one or two for Examples.

A GENTLEMAN, and a Man in good Circum⯑ſtances too, committed a Murther in or near St. Pan⯑cras Soaper-Lane, London, many Years ago; the Mur⯑ther was attended with ſome very cruel and bar⯑barous Circumſtances, ſuch as he could not ex⯑pect to be pardoned for, ſo he fled, and making his Eſcape into France, got out of the Reach of Juſtice.

HIS perſonal Safety was for a-while ſo much Satisfaction to him, that he did not make any Re⯑flections at all upon the Fact; but after a-while, he took ſhipping from France, and went over to Martinico, where he liv'd ſeveral Years; and even for two or three Years he carried it off well e⯑nough; but the firſt Shock given to his Soul was in a Fit of Sickneſs, when being in Danger of Death, he ſaw, as he was between ſleeping and wa⯑king, the Spectre, as he thought, of the murther'd Perſon, juſt as in the Poſture when he killed him, his Wound bleeding, and his Countenance ghaſt⯑ly; the Sight of which exceedingly terrify'd him, and at length awaken'd him.

BUT being awake, and finding it was but a Dream, and that the murther'd Perſon did not really appear to him, and, as he call'd it, haunt him, he was eaſie as to that Part; but being in a high Feaver, and believing he ſhould die, Conſcience began to ſtare at him, and to talk to him; he reſiſted a long time, but Death approaching, he grew very penſive, tho', as he ſaid, ſtill more a⯑fraid of dying, than penitent for his Crime.

AFTER he recover'd he grew eaſie, and began to forget things again; came over to Europe again, and being at Roan in Normandy, he dream'd he ſaw the murther'd Man again, and that he look'd [106] frightful and terrlble; and with a threat'ning Aſpect, and this threw him into a kind of Me⯑lancholy, which encreas'd exceedingly; the Spectre, as he call'd it, coming to him every Night.

BUT this was not all; for now as he dreamed of it all Night, ſo he thought of it all Day; it was, as we ſay, before his Eyes continually, his Imagination form'd Figures to him, now of this kind, then of that, always relating to the mur⯑ther'd Man; ſo that, in ſhort, he could think of nothing elſe: And tho' he was ſatisfied there was no real Ghoſt, as he called it, or Apparition, yet his own terrified Conſcience made the Thought be to him like one continued Apparition, and the murther'd Man was never out of his Sight.

HE was ſo reduced by the conſtant Agitation of his Soul, that he was in a very weak Condi⯑tion, and in a deep Conſumption: But in the midſt of theſe Tumults of his Soul, he had a ſtrong Impreſſion upon his Mind, that he could never die in Peace, nor ever go to Heaven, if he did not go over to England, and either get the Par⯑liament's Pardon (for it was in thoſe Days when there was no King in Iſrael) or that if he could not obtain a Pardon, that then he ſhould ſurrender into the Hands of Juſtice, and ſatisfy the Law with his Life, which was the Debt he owed to the Blood of the Man he kill'd, and cou'd no other way be expiated.

HE withſtood this as a wild diſtracted thing, and the Fruit of his diſturb'd Mind: What, ſaid be to himſelf, ſhould I go to England for? to go there is to GO and DIE; and theſe Words, GO and DIE, run daily upon his Mind: But tho' they came firſt into his Thoughts, as an Anſwer to his other Diſtractions, yet they turn'd upon him ſoon after, and he dream'd that the dead murther'd Man [...]aid to him, GO and DIE; and repeating it ſaid, [107] GO to England and DIE; and this follow'd him by Night and by Day, aſleep and awak [...], that he had it always in his Ears, GO to England and DIE.

IN ſhort, and to paſs over ſome Cirumſtances, tho' worth telling, which happen'd to him in the mean time, he was ſo continually terrify'd by the Reproaches of his Conſcience, and the Voice which he thought follow'd him, that he anſwer'd it once in his Sleep thus; Well, if it muſt be ſo, let me alone, I will GO and DIE.

IT was ſome time however before he did; but at laſt, unable to ſupport the Torture of his Mind, he reſolv'd to come over to England, and did ſo: He landed at Graveſend, and there took Paſſage in the Tilt-Boat for London.

WHEN he arriv'd at London, intending to land at Weſtminſter, he took a Wherry at Billinſgate, to carry him through Bridge. It happen'd, that two Lighters loaden with Coals run foul of the Boat he was in, and of one another, over-againſt Queen⯑Hith, or thereabouts; and the Watermen were ſo very hard put to it, that they had much ado to a⯑void being cruſh'd between the Lighters, ſo that they were oblig'd to get into one of the Lighters, and let the Boat ſink.

THIS occaſion'd him, contrary to his Deſign, to go on Shore a little to the Eaſtward of Queen-Hith; from thence he walk'd up on Foot towards Cheap⯑ſide, intending to take a Coach for Weſtminſter.

AS he paſs'd a Street, which croſſes out of Bread-ſtreat into Bow-lane, being almoſt Night, and he not well knowing the Streets, having been abſent eighteen Years, he heard ſome body cry, Stop him, ſtop him! It ſeems a Thief had broke into a Houſe in ſome Place, as he paſs'd by, and was diſcover'd, and run for it, and the People after him, crying Stop him, Stop him!

[108] IT preſently occurr'd to him, that being ſo near the Place where the Murther was committed, and where he had lived, ſome body that knew him had ſeen him, and that it was him they cry'd after; upon which he began to run with all his Might.

HAD the People cry'd ſtop Thief, he had had no need to be alarm'd, knowing, as he ſaid, that he had ſtolen nothing; but the Crowd crying only ſtop him, ſtop him, it was as likely to be him as not; and his own Guilt concurring, he run, as above.

AS he run with all his Might, it was a good while before the People overtook him; but juſt at the Corner of Soaper-lane, near about where now ſtands the Rummer Tavern, his Foot ſlipt, and his Breath failing him too, he fell down.

THE People, not knowing who he was, had loſt their Thief, and purſu'd him; but when they came up to him, they found he was not the right Perſon, and began to leave him; but his own Guilty Conſcience, which at firſt ſet him a run⯑ning, and which alone was his real Purſuer, continu⯑ing to follow him cloſe, and which at laſt had thrown him down too, ſo encreas'd his Fright, that believing they all knew him, he cry'd out, It is very true, I am the Man, it was I did it.

IT ſeems, when he firſt fell, ſome People, who upon hearing the Noiſe in the Street came run⯑ning to their Doors, as is uſual in ſuch Caſes; I ſay, ſome People, at the Door of a Houſe, juſt againſt where he fell, ſaid one to another, There he is, that's he, they have catch'd him; and it was upon that Saying that he anſwer'd, It is very true, I am the Man, and I did it; for ſtill he imagin'd they knew him to be the Murtherer, that kill'd the Man ſo long ago; whereas there was no body there that [...]ad any Knowledge of the Matter, and the very Memory of the thing was almoſt forgotten in the Place, as it might well b [...], having been done eigh⯑teen Years before.

[109] HOWEVER, when they heard him cry I am the Man, and I did it, one of the People that came a⯑bout him ſaid, What did you do? Why, I kill'd him, ſays he; I kill'd Mr.—and then re⯑peated his Name; but no body remember'd the Name.

WHY, you are mad, ſays one of the People; and then, added another, the Man's a diſtracted, diſorder'd Man. They purſu'd a little Shoplifting Thief, and here they have frighted a poor Gentleman, that they own is not the Perſon, but is an unhappy diſorder'd Man, and fancy'd they purſu'd after him.

BUT are you ſure he is not the Man?

SURE? ſays another; Why, they tell you ſo themſelves. Beſides, the Man is diſtracted.

DISTRACTED! ſays a third, how do you know that?

NAY, ſays the other, he muſt be diſtracted, or in Drink; don't you hear how he talks? I did it, I kill'd him, and I don't know what. Why, here's no body kill'd, is there? I tell you the poor Man is craz'd. Thus they talk'd a-while, and ſome run forward towards Cheap-ſide, to look for the real Thief, and ſo they were about to let him go. But one grave Citizen, and wiſer than the reſt, cry'd, nay hold, let's enquire a little further; tho' he's not the Thief they look for, there may be ſomething in it; let us go before my Lord Mayor with him: and ſo they did. I think the Lord Mayor then in Being, was Sir William Turner.

WHEN he came before the Lord Mayor, he voluntarily confeſs'd the Fact, and was afterwards executed for it: and I had the Subſtance of this Re⯑lation from an Ear-witneſs of the thing, ſo that I can freely ſay that I give entire Credit to it.

IT was remarkable alſo, that the Place where this Man fell down when he run, believing he was purſued and known, tho' at firſt he really was not, [110] was juſt againſt the very Door of the Houſe where the Perſon liv'd that he had murther'd.

MANY Inferences might be drawn from this Story, but that which is particularly to my Pur⯑poſe, is, to ſhew how Men's Guilt crowds their Ima⯑gination with ſudden and ſurprizing Ideas of things; brings Spectres and Apparitions into their Eyes, when there are really no ſuch things; forms Ghoſts and Phantaſms in their very View, when their Eyes are ſhut: They ſee ſleeping, and dream waking; the Night is all Viſion, and the Day all Apparition, 'till either by Penitence or Puniſhment they make Satisfaction for the Wrong they have done, and either Juſtice or the injur'd Perſon are appeaſed.

BUT to bring all this back to our Buſineſs: here's no other Apparation in all this, than what are form'd in the Imagination; the Ghoſts, the Souls of the moſt injur'd Perſon, whether injuri⯑ouſly murther'd, or injuriouſly robb'd and plun⯑der'd, ſleeps in Peace, knows nothing of the Mur⯑therer or Thief, except only that it gives that Part all up to the Eternal Judge: the Murtherer has the Horror of the Fact always upon him, Conſcience draws the Picture of the Crime in Apparition juſt before him, and the Reflection, not the injur'd Soul, is the Spectre that haunts him: Nor can he need a worſe Tormenter in this Life; whe⯑ther there is a worſe hereafter, or no, I do not pre⯑tend to determine. This is certainly a Worm that n [...]ver dies; 'tis always gnawing the Vitals, not of the Body, but of the very Soul—But I ſay [...] here was no Apparition all this while of any kind, no Spectre, no Ghoſt, no not to detect a Murtherer.

1. NO Devil or Evil Spirit; as for Satan, he would rather protect, or at leaſt ſhelter him, that he might commit another Murther.

2. NO Soul of the deceaſed, however injur'd [...] the Man acknowledg'd he never ſaw any real Ap⯑parition.

[111] WHAT was it then the Man was exercis'd with? I anſwer, he was harraſs'd by the Reflection of his own Guilt, and the Sluices of the Soul were ſet open by the Angels or Spirits attending, and who by Divine Appointment are always at hand to ex⯑ecute the vindictive Part of Juſtice, as well as the more merciful Diſpenſations of Heaven, when they have them in Commiſſion.

THESE abandon'd him to the Fury of an en⯑rag'd Conſcience, open'd the Sluices of the Soul, as I call them, and pour'd in a Flood of unſufferable Grief, letting looſe thoſe wild Beaſts call'd Paſſions upon him, ſuch as Rage, Anguiſh, Self-reproach, too late Repentance, and final Deſperation, all to fall upon him at once; ſo the Man runs to Death for Relief, tho' it be to the Gallows, or any where, and that even by the meer Conſequence of Things.

BUT if then Oppreſſion, Injury, Robbery, and even Murther it ſelf, will not bring the departed injur'd Soul back in Ghoſt or Apparition; if when it is once Uncas'd, Diſmiſs'd, or Unembodied, its State is determin'd, and that it can receive no ſuch Impreſſions as to be diſquieted afterwards, much leſs brought back hither to haunt or perplex the Perſons left behind, what then ſhall we ſay?

HOW then can we think they ſhould come back for Trifles, nameleſs Trifles, or Trifles not worth naming? and what are we to call thoſe real Appa⯑ritions which we have Reaſon to believe are, and frequently have been ſeen in the World? what are they, nay, what can they be, but theſe Angels or Spirits, call them what you will, who inhabit, or have their Station in the great Void or Waſt? who have the Guard, not of our Atmoſphere only, nay not of the Solar Syſtem only, tho' that is of Immenſe and Inconceiveable Extent, and full of diſtant Pla⯑netary Worlds, but even of the whole Syſtem of the Creation, the Syſtem of Empty Space.

[112] THESE may, and no doubt do viſit us every Day, whether they are viſible to us or no; their Buſineſs is among us, they are poſted in their Station as deſcrib'd, on purpoſe to take Cogni⯑zance of us, and of things belonging to us, and done by us.

IF Murther, Rapine, and Oppreſſion is exercis'd upon any, theſe frequently, if not always, concern themſelves, either to detect it, or to bring the Of⯑fender to Juſtice, or both, eſpecially in Caſes of Blood: And this is the beſt way we can account for the Diſcovery of Murther, which is ſo general, that it is our receiv'd Opinion, that Murther very ſeldom goes undiſcover'd; that Murther will out, that is, will come out to be known and puniſhed.

IF inſtead of ſaying Murther very ſeldom goes un⯑d [...]ſcover'd, they had ſaid ſeldom goes unpuniſh'd, I be⯑lieve it might have been univerſally true; for ſome⯑times ſecret Murthers are never diſcover'd to the Perſons who knew of the Fact, or in the Place where it was committed: but how are they purſu'd by the Divine Vengeance, that is to ſay under the Miniſtry of theſe happy Inſtruments, who fail not to purſue the Murtherer? perhaps it may be the only Caſe wherein they are Agents of Juſtice, without a mixture of Mercy.

HOW many ſecret, and 'till then undiſcover'd Murthers do theſe happy Inſtruments oblige the guilty Wretches to diſcover, which no Human Eye had been Witneſs to? Some are diſco⯑ver'd, as in the Example above, and brought to Puniſhment: Some at the Gallows, whither the Criminal is brought for other Crimes; ſome upon ſick Beds, and in View of Eternal Judgment; ſome in Shipwrecks, ſome in Battels, ſome one way, ſome another.

[113] NOR can it be deny'd, that tho' theſe angelick miniſtring Spirits were to be conſtant Meſſengers of Juſtice in ſuch Caſes, yet it would be much more merciful than to give the Soul of the injur'd murther'd Perſon leave to come back arm'd with Power, and with the Terrors of its inviſible State, to do it ſelf Juſtice, inflam'd with the Reſentments which it might be reaſonable to ſuppoſe it muſt have at the Injury receiv'd, able to tear the Murtherer in Pieces, and in Condition to ca [...]ry on its own Quar⯑rel, and execute the Divine Juſtice, in revenge of its private Quarrel.

1. THIS would be inconſiſtent with the ſu⯑preme Prerogative of Heaven, by which he has taken all executive Juſtice into his own Hand, all Retribution, all retaliating Juſtice; and that on purpoſe to reſtrain the Rage and Fury of Men, who would be unbo [...]nded in the vindictive Part, and ſet no Limits to their Vengeance; which for that very Reaſon, I ſay, God has declar'd he takes into his own Hand; Vengeance is MINE, I will re⯑p [...]y. Rom. xii. 19.

2. IF it were not thus, the World would be a Field of Blood and Confuſion, the departed Soul of a murthered Perſon would be always harraſſing, not the Murtherer only, but all the Perſons concern'd in his Injury; and without Mercy would call every one a Murtherer, that was on the ſide of his Ene⯑my, whether guilty or not; in a word, ſuppoſe he dy'd fighting, he would come back to revenge his own Death, fir'd with a double Rage, and arm'd with an irreſiſtible Ability to revenge.

BUT not to confine my ſelf to the Caſe of a Murtherer only; If Souls after Death could re⯑turn to viſit thoſe who they had any Concerns with here, let the Occaſion be what it would, the World would be all Confuſion and Diſorder; Q [...]ar⯑rels and Contentions would never ceaſe, Feuds [114] of Families would not die, but the injur'd Perſon would always come back to right himſelf.

AND how do we know that they would, even in that enlightned State of Being, be impartially juſt, conſidering they would act in their own Cauſes? Are we ſure they would not inſiſt upon pretended Right, as they did perhaps when living? if ſo, then we muſt have Appeals even from the Spirits themſelves; for they would be as liable to do Injury in their Revenge, as thoſe yet living had been to do to them.

HERE we might make a rational Excurſion up⯑on the preſent State of Things: What would be the caſe, if all the injur'd Souls now in a determin'd State, were able to come back, and demand Juſtice of the preſent Age? what work would it make a⯑mong us? how many wealthy Landlords would be turn'd out of Poſſeſſion, and rich Tradeſmen oblig'd to refund? How would the ſtrong Oppreſſor be chal⯑leng'd by the weak, the injur'd Poor be the ruin of the Rich? How many Adulterers would be bound to diſlodge from the Arms of the fair Intru⯑der? How many injur'd Ladies would claim their Properties, and turn the Uſurpers out of Bed?

HOW would young—be call'd upon to do right to a whole Family, whoſe Tears for the marrying one Siſter, and debauching the other, have hitherto been in vain? How would the civil Rape be diſcover'd, and the Artifices be detected, which broke two Hearts, for want of doing right to one?

HOW long ago would the Soul of—have appear'd to do her ſelf Juſtice, which a wheedl'd C—a brib'd—and a ſleepy—deny'd her, and to demand the Sentence, which the plain acknowledgment of her Murthe⯑rers cou'd not extort from them?

HOW would ſhe have haunted the Retirement of the guilty Wretch, and have beaten him out of all [115] his Subterfuges, 'till he had come upon his Knees to the Hangman, and begg'd to be diſmiſs'd from a Hell ſo much worſe than that he had reaſon to expect he was going to? or have been his own Drudge, and have anticipated Juſtice by an immediate diſpatch?

BUT they have been left to the Iron Hands of yet ſlumbring Juſtice; which Conſcience (however it may at preſent forbear) muſt ſoon tell them, will be not the leſs certain for the delay.

BUT let us leave the Mechanick Criminals, and enquire of the ſuperior Ranks of Men: How ma⯑ny uſurping Tyrants poſſeſs the Thrones of op⯑preſs'd, and perhaps murther'd Princes; while the Blood of Armies, nay, of whole Nations (ſpeaking as to Number) has been ſacrific'd to ſupport the Ambition of one Man?

WHAT Mercy to Mankind has the ſupreme Lord exhibited, in this wiſe allotment of Things? viz. That the Grave buries all the Rage of humane Reſentment: the Oppreſſed and the Oppreſſor reſt together; the Murtherer and the Murthered; the moſt inveterate Enemies; the conquer'd in Battel, and the Slain of the conquering Army, make one heap of quiet and peaceable Duſt, blended together, and mould'ring into the common Element of Earth.

ALL the Animoſity, being fled with the enrag'd Souls, carries with it the very remains of the Quarrel, and they no more appear Enemies, but freely encor⯑porate their Duſt with one another. The late D. Ha—n, might have been buried in the ſame Grave, nay, in the ſame Coffin, with the Lord Mo—n; and their Swords left in their Hands; the Souls of the noble Enemies would never have concerned themſelves again with the Quarrel.

HEAVEN, who thought fit to cool the Rage of their Minds, by their own unhappy Hands, and make 'em reciprocally the Executioners of the Divine [116] Pleaſure upon themſelves, has thought fit alſo to take from both the power of determining any more who was right, and who was wrong, and oblig'd them mutually to refer the further enquiry to himſelf.

THE two Daniſh Soldiers who fought at Be⯑verly, one kill'd upon the ſpot, and the other imme⯑diately ſhot to Death for fighting, and buried to⯑gether; there they lie quiet in one Grave, the Souls of them never viſit one another, to complain of the Injury.

COULD Souls departed come back to demand Redreſs of Grievances, and to put Men in mind of the Injuſtice done them; could they challenge the living Poſſeſſors of their Eſtates for the Frauds by which they were obtained; what Confuſion would Exchange-Alley and the Exchange of London be in? what diſtraction would it make in all the Affairs of Life? and how ſoon would the Men who amaſs'd immenſe Wealth, Ann. 1720, diſappear, like W—of Hack—, and ſink under the guilt of their good Fortune?

IN a word, it would invert the Order of Eter⯑nal Juſtice, for it would make this Earth be the Place of Rewards and Puniſhments, and take the Executive Power out of the Hands of the great Governour of the World.

DEPEND then upon it, the Souls of our de⯑parted Friends, or Enemies, are all in their fix'd and determin'd State; whether arriv'd at a full Conſum⯑mation of Felicity or Miſery, that is not the caſe, nor is it any part of the Queſtion; but they are ſo remov'd from all poſſibility of return Hither, or concern with us, that the very Suggeſtion, however it has for many Ages prevail'd in the World, is full of Abſurdity. The Joys of the Happy are ſo com⯑pleat, ſo exalted, ſo ſuperior, that the greateſt Af⯑fairs of this World are too trifling, to take up the [117] leaſt Moment, or give the leaſt Interruption to their Felicity; as a poor or mean Man, that having a vaſt Eſtate left him in his immediate Poſſeſſion, quits his decay'd out-of-repair Cottage upon the Waſte, and having his Hands full of Gold, or even Bags of Gold, ſcorns to take up the Rags and Rub⯑biſh of his old dirty Habitation; but ſays to his Servants, Let any one take 'em that will, I have enough here.

ON the other hand, the rejected and condemn'd Soul, loaded with his own Crime, and ſinking un⯑der the Weight of inexpreſſible Horror; ſhall he have any thought about the hated World he came out of! he who abhors and hates the place where he ſpent a long Life of ſuch Crime, as now loads him with inſupportable Puniſhment, is he at leiſure, or in compoſure for concerning himſelf in Life any more, where he has already ſo miſerably ruin'd him⯑ſelf, Soul and Body!

IF he was to come back hither for any thing, it would probably be to take the heaps of his ill⯑gotten Treaſure from the unjuſt Poſſeſſor, his Heir; and making reſtitution with it to the Poor, whom he had oppreſs'd, to the Widows he had robb'd, and in general to all thoſe he had injur'd, leave his Family in Poverty and Rags, inſtead of their Robes and Velvet; and in Hoſpitals and Alms⯑houſes, rather than Palaces and Parks, and with Coaches or Horſes. Proving the Proverb untrue, and ſhowing that the Son may not be always happy, tho' the Father be gone to the Devil.

I DOUBT it would make but ſad work among ſome Families, who now poſſeſs large Eſtates; if the Notion ſome People entertain about Spirits, and about haunting of Houſes, ſhould be true: Namely, that the Souls departed could not be at reſt 'till Sa⯑tisfaction was made in ſuch and ſuch caſes, where Injury had been done to Orphans and Widows; and [118] 'till ſuch Injuſtice was prevented as was farther like to be done by their means.

AS to what Reſt the Souls of thoſe departed would have, I am not to reſolve; but I doubt the Souls and Bodies too of thoſe that remain, would have ſmall Reſt here, if that were true.

IS it not rather a Proof that the Soul cannot re⯑turn hither, to do Right to the injur'd race of thoſe whom it had oppreſs'd with Violence, when embodied, that the Ghoſt or Soul of—ſleeps in its abſent State, and does not call upon his too happy Heir, and charge him to make reparation in its Name, for all the Ravages and Plunder, out of which he rais'd thoſe Millions he left behind? If Uſury, Extortion, Perjury and Blood are Injuries that diſquiet the Souls unembodied, How is it that the Souls of all the Families, and even Nati⯑ons of Families oppreſs'd and ruin'd by the late—do not come and do themſelves right out of the immenſe Wealth, left in poſſeſſion to thoſe, who, 'till that Juſtice be obtain'd, could have no Claim to it?

BUT to let the Injur'd and the Injurious ſleep together, as they do, without diſturbing or being diſturb'd by one another, let us ask a few Queſtions of the living? How would a certain wandring Right Honourable, moſt ſimply elevated Object of human Pity, be terrified at the Apprehenſions of meeting the diſhonour'd Souls of his Anceſtors? and particularly of his pious Grandfather, who would if it were poſſible chaſtiſe him for his Lunacy, and drive him home to the Feet of a merciful Sovereign, to ask Pardon for the moſt prepoſterous things that ever humane Rage drove any Man in his Senſes to be guilty of!

IF the Souls of wiſe Men could be diſquieted for the mad things done by their Poſterity, what Regret muſt the Anceſtors of all the exil'd Heirs of [119] Noble Blood now have, who ſee their Sons forfeiting the ple [...]tiful Fortunes they left them, by the moſt ridiculous and utterly improbable Scheme of the late Preſton and Dumblain Affair? an Attempt without Succeſs, becauſe without rational Proſpect, without humane Probability; and fo [...] which, as the late happy Lord Derwentwater ſaid, they ſhould not have been ſent to the Tower, but to Bedlam.

IF Souls could return, how ſhould our Friends the A—s and B—s and S—s ſleep in their Beds, while they enjoy the ruins of ſo many Fa⯑milies, and the fortunes of ſo many Sufferers, who hang'd themſelves in Deſperation for the loſs? and why do they not ſee Apparitions every Night from the injur'd Ghoſts of—L—Ba—W—Hu—and a thouſand more; who, could they re⯑paſs the Gulph, would certainly harraſs them, 'till they ſhould be glad to diſmiſs themſelves the ſame way, and run to that Hell which they know no⯑thing of, from that Hell of Self-reproach, which they would be no longer able to endure?

I COULD deſcend to Particulars, 'till I fill'd a Roll too long for your reading; and I know not whether it might not be true, as Sir W—B—d ſaid in another caſe, that he believ'd all would come up that was under Ground, and his Grandfather would come with the reſt and call for his Eſtate again.

THE Doctrine of diſquiet Souls returning hi⯑ther, to do or obtain Juſtice, to make or demand Reſtitution, and that they could not be at reſt 'till ſuch and ſuch things were ſettled, Wills perform'd, diſpoſſeſs'd Heirs righted, conceal'd Treaſons diſco⯑ver'd, conceal'd Treaſures found out, and the like, were it true, would make the World uninhabitable: Ghoſts and Apparitions would walk the Streets at Noon-Day; and the living might go on one ſide of the Street, and the dead on the other; the latter would be infinitely more numerous.

[120] NOTHING can be more propoſterous than ſuch a Notion. It is true, that the examples given, or pretended to be given, of it, are but few, and that very part is againſt them; for if the thing is real, why are they but few? It muſt be acknow⯑ledg'd, as the times go, the caſes of the injur'd and oppreſs'd are not few: On the contrary, as God ſaid of the old World, the whole Earth is fill'd with Violence. Whence is it then, if injur'd Souls, or the Souls of injur'd, oppreſs'd, ruin'd People could return, that there are not Millions haunting the Doors, nay the Cloſets and Bed-Chambers, of thoſe that enjoy the Wealth which was ſo unjuſtly obtain'd?

IF it could be at all, the Number would be in⯑finitely more; for why ſhould one guilty Soul be uneaſy, and not another? All the guilty would come back to make Reſtitution as far as they were able, and all the Sufferers would come back to obtain it.

AGAIN, the Condition of thoſe that enjoy the ill⯑gotten Wealth of their Anceſtors would be deplo⯑rable: the Souls of guilty Parents would harraſs their Sons for the Eſtate, to make Reſtitution; and the Souls of the oppreſs'd Sufferers would haunt them, to get their own reſtor'd: ſo that they only would be eaſy in the World, who had nothing to reſtore, or who enjoyed nothing but what was of their own getting; they only would ſleep at Night who had ballanc'd with the Day, who had earn'd what they Eat, and had Eaten no more than they earn'd.

BUT this we ſee is not the caſe: that the Souls of the moſt guilty remain where they are, and the Souls of the moſt oppreſs'd do not come hither to complain, ſtrongly implies, and is to me a ſufficient proof, that their State is determin'd; that the Gulph is fixed; that they can only look back with [121] Self-Reproach, but cannot come back to give them⯑ſelves the Satisfaction of doing Juſtice to thoſe they have injur'd; that the murther'd Perſon cannot come back, no, not to detect the Murtherer; or the plunder'd Traveller to diſcover the Highway⯑man. It is plain to me, and will paſs for Evidence, that they cannot, becauſe they do not; and 'tis plain to me that ſome do not, becauſe all do not; for if any, why not all?

IT does not conſiſt with the inlightned Juſtice of that State which we believe is beyond Life, to let one injured Soul come hither to obtain Juſtice a⯑gainſt the Oppreſſor of his Family, and not let ano⯑ther have the ſame Liberty; or to let one injuri⯑ous Soul return to make Reſtitution, and make his Peace, that he may be at Reſt, as they call it; and lock up another from it, who would be equally willing to do it, and is equally miſerable in the want of it.

THAT it is not ſo, is a ſufficient Teſtimony to me that it cannot be ſo; and the miſerable Con⯑dition the World would be in here, if it were ſo, makes it clear to me that the Wiſdom of Provi⯑dence has otherwiſe determined it.

NOR would the Advantage be any thing con⯑ſiderable, at leaſt not in proportion to the Diſor⯑der it would bring along with it; and were we to allow the Poſſibility, it would bring in ſo many Abſurdities with it in Points of Religion, that it would deſtroy the eſtabliſh'd Doctrines of all Reli⯑gion: For Example,

FIRST, We believe that the final Eſtate of the Soul is determined with Life, and as the Tree falls ſo it muſt lie; that This is the State of Tryal, That the State of Retribution: If ſo then, to what purpoſe ſhould the Souls of the Dead deſire to come back, unleſs they were to have a farther Probation, or that there was a Poſſibility of retrieving their State, [122] and recovering from the Sentence they were under? and if the divine Wiſdom had left room for that, it would have as well ſpared them in Life 'till it had been done.

SECONDLY, To what Purpoſe ſhould the Soul come back to do Juſtice, if doing that Juſtice could make no Alteration of its future State? If it could make any Alteration, then there muſt be room after Death to recover the Soul from eternal Death; and if there was, the Eyes may be ſup⯑poſed to be ſo open'd there, that none would omit or neglect it.

THIRDLY, If coming hither, or doing Ju⯑ſtice here, can be no Help to the Souls departed, and yet they deſire it, you muſt then ſuppoſe a ſtrong Deſire of doing diſintereſted Good may poſ⯑ſeſs the Souls of thoſe who are in a State of Con⯑demnation; which is inconſiſtent with the other Circumſtances of Hell, which we have juſt Rea⯑ſon to believe ſhuts out all good Deſires, and all good Principles, from the Souls that are there.

FOURTHLY, The Suppoſition of Souls being in a Condition after Death to return hither, deſtroys all the Deſcriptions which the Scripture gives us of the future Condition, either of the good or bad Souls: but that I hinted before.

UPON the whole, 'tis a Notion, however it may have been received here, perfectly inconſiſtent with either Reaſon or reveal'd Religion; and I may venture to ſay it cannot be, 'tis impoſſible, and that all the Pretences of a Ghoſt or Apparition ſaying it is ſuch a Perſon, and that it cannot be at Reſt 'till ſo and ſo be done, and that now it ſhall go to God, muſt be a Deluſion, and muſt be added by the Perſons relating the Story; for that no Ghoſt or Spirit really happy could ſay ſo, or would impoſe ſo much upon us.

CHAP. VIII. The Reality of Apparition farther aſſerted; and what Spirits they are that do really appear.

THE affirming, as in the foregoing Chapters, that the unembodied Souls of Men do not ap⯑pear again, or concern themſelves in the Affairs of Life; that the Good would not if they could, and the Bad could not if they would; does not at all de⯑ſtroy the Reality of the thing call'd Apparition, or do I pretend to argue from thence that there is no ſuch thing as any Apparition at all: on the contra⯑ry, I inſiſt it is reaſonable to believe (not withſtand⯑ing all that has been ſaid) that there are ſuch things as the Apparition of Spirits; and this I think I have already prov'd paſt the Power of any Scruple or Cavil, as alſo that there have been ſuch things in all Ages of the World.

THE Doctrine of the Exiſtence of Spirits is e⯑ſtabliſhed in Nature; where thoſe Spirits reſide, is Matter of Difficulty, and our Speculations are va⯑rious about them; but to argue that therefore there are none, that they exiſt not, that there are no ſuch Beings, is abſurd, and contrary to the Na⯑ture of the thing; we may as well argue againſt the Exiſtence of the Sun when it is clouded and eclips'd, tho' we ſee its Light, only becauſe we cannot ſee its Beams, or the Globe of its Body: But let us go back to the Principle.

SPIRIT, as it is to be conſider'd here, is to be re⯑duced to four general Heads.

[124] FIRST, The Author of all Spirit, the Fountain of all Being, the Original Cauſe of Life, and the Creator both of Spirit and of all the Subſequents of it. This we juſtly adore, as the Infinite Eternal Spi⯑rit: GOD is a SPIRIT.

SECONDLY, Angels or good Spirits; which [...]re real Spirits, we have Demonſtration of it, and they have and do appear daily, as the great Author of all Spirit directs, for the Service of Mankind, for they are miniſtring Spirits.

THIRDLY, Devils or evil Spirits; theſe are really Spirit too, of a ſpirituous N [...]ture; 'tis true they are deprived of their Beauty, their Original Glory, becauſe depriv'd of their Innocence; they are deform'd as well as defil'd by Crime, but they are not depriv'd of their Nature; they are Spirits ſtill, tho' caſt down and caſt out, and are call'd wicked Spirits.

FOURTHLY, Souls of Men, whether good or bad; their Condition may be as you pleaſe to ſpeak of it, Happy or Unhappy; the Caſe is the ſame, it does no way alter their Nature, but ſtill they are Spirits. The Spirits of juſt Men made perfect; there's the happy Spirits: the Spirits in Priſon, and there's the unhappy; but both are Spirits, and are to be diſcours'd of as ſuch in this Place.

NOW let us bring all this down to our preſent Purpoſe. I have aſſerted their Being, let me en⯑quire into their State, as it reſpects our Subject; how far they may or may not, can or cannot ap⯑pear among Men, in their preſent Circumſtances. How they have viſited this Earth at ſeveral Times, and on what Occaſions, has been mentioned alrea⯑dy, and as much at large as the deſign'd Brevity of this Work admits of.

IT remains to enquire what we have to expect of them for the future, and in particular, who we may expect to ſee at any time hereafter; which of them may viſit us for the time to come, and which [125] may not, or can not be reaſonably expected; and this I ſhall do with the ſame Clearneſs if poſſible, and in very few Words.

OF the four Kinds of Spirit, then, let us conſider the Firſt and the Laſt.

FIRST, GOD, the Soul and Life, the Being of all Spirit, has appear'd, as I have ſaid; but we are to expect him no more: I do not ſay he can⯑not appear to us, but I believe I may ſay he has determined to bleſs the World with no more ſuch glorious Exhibitions, no more perſonal Appear⯑ances of the Eternal Face, 'till the moſt glorious Appearance ſpoken of in Scripture, Tit. ii. 13. Looking for the bleſſed Hope and the glorious appear⯑ing of the GREAT GOD—

SECONDLY, The diſmiſs'd, departed, un⯑embodied Spirits, which we call Souls of Men, whether happy or miſerable, can by no means ap⯑pear among us; all Apparition of that Kind is ficti⯑tious and imaginary; never was practicable, except once by Miracle, and never can again be practi⯑cable, and therefore is not to be expected. We are told indeed, that once, on the extraordinary Occa⯑ſion of the Reſurrection of Chriſt, and to honour that Reſurrection with a Miracle of the moſt ſu⯑blime Nature, the Graves were opened, and the Bodies of the Saints aroſe and appeared, &c. The Word is they Aroſe, and came out of their Graves after his Re⯑ſurrection, Mat. xxvii. 53. I might enlarge upon the Nature of this Apparition of the Saints which ſlept; the manner of it, and eſpecially the Reaſon of it, and ſhew you how it was really miraculous, and done to convince the doubting Diſciples of the Truth of the Reſurrection, which ſome of them, being perhaps originaly Sadduces, might ſtill que⯑ſtion; but my Buſineſs is with an Age not too much delighted in ſerious Excurſions, ſo I muſt not make any Treſpaſs, however ſeaſonable, or turn grave, however uſeful.

[126] LET it then be ſufficient to the Purpoſe, this Apparition of Souls was extraordinary and mira⯑culous, and we are to expect them no more; their State is determined, the happy are too happy, and their Happineſs too firmly fix'd, to ſuffer any ſuch Interruption; the Unhappy have their Confine⯑ment too firmly fix'd, to break Priſon, and get out; in a word, theſe cannot, and the other would not if they could; and we are not to expect to ſee or hear from them any more on this Earth; 'till the Reſtitution of all things, and 'till they ſhall be all ſummon'd to that grand Appearance, which we believe will one Day happen, whatever our flaming Age pretend to ſay to the contrary.

ALL Apparition then of theſe two Heads or Species being concluded impoſſible in Nature, and not to be expected, we muſt look for it then a⯑mong the Angelick Spirits; and here indeed it is to be found: Angels of all the Kinds have appear'd, may and do appear, and of them alone are all the Apparitions, which have any Reality in them, form'd.

THIS is bringing the Matter into a narrow Compaſs, and putting an end to Cavil and Quar⯑rel about it; there is no need to wrangle upon it any more; but when you at any time ſee an Apparition, or Appearance of Spirit aſſuming Shape and Voice, and you are ſure it is really an Apparition, not a Deceptio Viſus, a Cloud, a Va⯑pour of the Imagination; I ſay, whenever you ſee ſuch an Apparition, depend upon it; 'tis an Angel, or a Devil.

I HAVE only one Diſtinction to make here, which tho' it be neceſſary, ſhall be very ſhort and clear, viz. That when I ſpeak of Angels I muſ [...] be underſtood as follows,

FIRST, The Word Angel is to be underſtood of good Angels; for the Devils, as I have ſaid, ar [...] alſo Angels: Satan is called an Angel of Light [127] but the evil Angels I ſhall always treat with their new Sirname, Devil; ſo that when I ſpeak of An⯑gels, I am always to be underſtood of the good Angels.

SECONDLY, But of good Angels, theſe I di⯑ſtinguiſh alſo into two Kinds:

(1.) THE Angels which are actually in Hea⯑ven, ſuch as we read of, Gabriel, Michael, and others not diſtinguiſhed by Name; theſe have ap⯑peared amongſt Men, upon this Earth, as I have alſo ſaid before at large; but even theſe, we have Reaſon to believe, we ſhall ſee no more; God having pleaſed to diſcover himſelf to his People now in a⯑nother Way, by another Miniſtration, namely, by his Spirit, and by an Evangelick, not an Angelick Miniſtry.

(2.) THAT Rank of Angels or Spirits, call them as we pleaſe, (and whether inferior or not, we are not to determine,) who are plac'd by the Direction of God himſelf in a nearer Situation to us; plac'd, I ſay, by their Maker, under his ſu⯑perior Providence, for the Direction and Conduct of human Creatures, and of their Affairs, or at leaſt to Guard them from the Invaſions, Threatning, and Helliſh Deſigns of the Prince of Darkneſs and his Angels; and theſe, as I ſaid, might well be call'd Guardian Angels to the whole Earth.

NOW, theſe two ſorts of Spirit, viz. the Guar⯑dian Angels, the good Spirits detach'd, as I may and did call it, from Heaven, to have the Inſpection over, and Care of his new Creation, as well here as elſewhere; theſe, and the Devils, that other ſort of Angels, of whom I may have Occaſion to ſpeak (more than a great deal) in this Work; Theſe, I ſay, may, and do appear, and all Apparition is really be⯑tween them; all Spirit you can ſpeak of, or pretend to ſee the Appearance of, muſt be one of theſe two, muſt be Angel or Devil, there is no other, there [128] can be no other: Miracle, and ſomething more than miraculous, and Things which we have no Reaſon to look for, only excepted.

BUT on the other hand, as certain as that no o⯑ther Spirit does, or can, and as certainly as they do not, or cannot appear; ſo as certain, and paſt diſpute is it, that theſe Spirits, both good and bad, do appear to us upon all Occaſions; I mean all Occaſions which they judge needful, and which happens to them, whether by choice or conſtraint. It is not indeed in us to determine how they are mov'd to go upon theſe Errands, or in what man⯑ner; I may perhaps give ſome probable Opinions about the Manner and Cauſes both of their Miſſion and Permiſſion; for I take thoſe two Heads to con⯑tain the Regulation of their Actings; I ſay Commiſ⯑ſion and Permiſſion, and without theſe we are ſure never to be viſited in this manner, either by one or other.

IT is true that this gives a conſiderable Sanction to the Thing call'd Apparition in general, and makes it appear to be more ſolemn than we are willing to make it; for by this Rule, neither De⯑vil or Angel appears but upon ſome extraordinary Occaſion; and if it be ſo, I do not ſee why we ſhould like it the worſe; for if they were to ſhew themſelves upon every trifling Occaſion, they would either terrifie Mankind ſo as to make the World intollerable to him, or familiariſe themſelves ſo as not to be regarded.

NOW as it would be the Devil, not the good Spirits, that would thus haunt the World upon Trifles; (for the other cannot be ſuppoſed to do it) ſo they would carry on the Familiarity too far, and Men would be ſo far from being frighted and ter⯑rified at him, that in ſhort there would be more Danger in the Intimacy; and, as we ſay in another [129] Caſe, Mankind and the Devil might be too well acquainted.

BUT firſt to the Fact, that theſe Spirits, both good and bad, Do thus APPEAR; and then to the Reaſon of it. That they do appear, the Hiſtory, Experience, and Report of all Ages confirm it; they always have, and ſtill do. The Appearances of Spirits are confirmed many ways, Hiſtory is full of Examples; and ſacred Hiſtory itſelf, tho' it does not give Relation of particular Apparitions, yet con⯑firms the thing, as a Reality, and out of Queſtion.

CHRIST himſelf, after his Reſurrection, ſeeing his Diſciples frighted and terrified at his Appearance, takes a great deal of Pains to convince them that he was not a Spirit or an Apparition, as they feared: Luke xxiv. 37. They were terrified and affrighted, and ſuppos'd that they had ſeen a Spirit. This would be what it is too diſhonourable to ſay of the ſacred Writ, if Apparition of Spirit in the Shape of Bo⯑dy did never come, and that there were no ſuch thing in Nature.

SEE then what our bleſſed Lord ſays to them upon it, v. 39. Behold my Hands and my Feet, that it is I myſelf: handle me, and ſee; for a Spirit hath not Fleſh and Bones, as ye ſce me have. This is as direct and poſitive as any thing of its kind can be ſuppos'd, or deſir'd to be. If there were no ſuch things as Spirits appearing, how could Jeſ [...]s Chriſt have expreſſed himſelf in ſuch a manner? the Language is plain, You think you ſee a Spirit, that is an Apparition, and you may have ſome Reaſons for your Apprehenſion, becauſe I came in thus un⯑ſeen, when the Door was ſhut: Now a Spirit may indeed aſſume a Shape, and look like the Per⯑ſon it appears for; but if you were to come near to it, you would find a Spirit, an Apparition, has only the Appearance, it has not Fleſh and Bones as [130] you ſee me have: Therefore I am not a Spectre or Apparition, but a real Body.

SO when he came walking upon the Sea to his Diſciples, and they were ſo frighted that they cried out, believing that they had ſeen a Spirit; it muſt be out of Queſtion that there were ſuch things, and that they, the Diſciples, had heard of them; nay, perhaps, they had ſeen ſuch Apparitions themſelves before that; why elſe ſhould they be ſo frighted as to cry out, Matth. xiv. 26. And when the Diſciples ſaw him walking on the Sea, they were troubled, ſay⯑ing, It is a Spirit; and they cried out for fear. And why, when our Saviour ſpoke to them, did he not reprove them for being frighted at their own Ima⯑gination, and fa [...]cy, (like Children,) that they ſaw a Spirit, when there were no ſuch things in the World, and no Apparitions to be ſeen?

ON the other hand he ſpeaks kindly to them, knowing that Apparitions are frightful Things to People not uſed to ſee them, and bids them be of good Cheer, it is not a Spirit, it is I, be not afraid; 'tis no Apparition, but myſelf in reality. So alſo you have the Story, Mark vi. 50.

AGAIN, you have a perfect Deſcription of an Apparition in the very manner we are juſt now diſcourſing about it, Job iv. 15, 16. Then a Spirit paſſed before my Face, the Hair of my Fleſh ſtood up. It ſtood ſtill, but I could not diſcern the Form thereof: an Image was before mine Eyes, there was ſilence, and I heard a Voice. Eliphaz [...]as a Man of Senſe, he was not deluded to ſpeak of Things not in Being, he ſaw an Apparition, not a Fancy.

AGAIN, Joſhua ſaw an Apparition, as I mention'd once before, Joſh. v. 13. A Man with a drawn Sword in his Hand. This was an Angel, that is to ſay a Spirit, and yet it ſpoke to him, and had the Shape of a Ma [...] in Arms, with a Sword in his [131] Hand. Had Joſhua offer'd to touch it, or been per⯑mitted to touch it, he would not have found it had Fleſh and Bones; we have our Saviour's Words for it, A Spirit has not FLESH and BONES; an Ap⯑parition is a Spirit aſſuming a Shape of Fleſh and Blood, but without the Reality.

AND this Anſwers all thoſe fanciful People who ſay to us, that they ſaw ſuch or ſuch a Perſon: I ſaw him, ſays the Ignorant frighted Viſioniſt, per⯑fectly! I know him well enough! I am ſure 'twas him! I ſaw him plainly! Hence they conclude it muſt be the Soul of ſuch a Perſon, becauſe, ſay they, it had his very Countenance and his Cloaths on: nay, riding on the ſame Horſe as he us'd to ride on: when the truth of the Caſe is this, the Man is dead, his Body rotting in the Grave, his Soul car⯑ried into the remote Regions of eternal Felicity or Horror unalterable, and that immoveable, as to returning this Way: his Cloaths that were ſeen, are lying in the Cheſt, or the Preſs, where they uſually lay, and the poor Horſe graſing in the Field, or perhaps quiet in the Stable, and not at all diſturb'd. All that is to be ſaid, the good An⯑gel that perhaps had ſome ſecret Commiſſion to the Relict or Remains of the Man's Family; to give them Notice of ſome Evil, to warn, to admoniſh, &c. aſſumes the Shape and Appearance of the Man him⯑ſelf, cloaths himſelf in his Likeneſs, forms the Apparition in Air, of his Cloaths, his Countenance, his Horſe, as a Painter cloathes the Cloth he paints on with Faces, Poſtures, Habits, Garments, all i [...] Colours, while the paſſive Perſon repreſented is no way affected with, or concerned in the Draught repreſenting him.

AND why ſhould not this Spirit, thus commiſ⯑ſion'd to go on ſuch an Errand, be able to amuſe us with the Appearance of a Perſon departed; ta⯑king up his Shape, Count [...]na [...]ce, Cloaths, &c. [132] tho' the Soul of the Pe [...]ſon is not affected with, or concern'd in it? when it is known that we of⯑ten ſee Apparitions of Perſons living, whom we ſee and ſpeak to, and converſe with; know their Faces, their Voices, their Cloaths; and yet the Perſons themſelves know nothing of the matter.

I HAVE by me a very diverting Hiſtory upon this Subject, which I ſhall abridge for the preſent purpoſe, as follows, viz.

A CERTAIN young Lady of—born in the County of—had been long courted by a young Gentleman, whoſe Father had a very good Eſtate in the ſame Town: ſhe had kept him Com⯑pany too openly, but had not yielded to his Im⯑portunities for a criminal Converſation, tho' her Reputation ſuffer'd for it as if ſhe had; but at length ſhe was ſo far over-perſuaded, that ſhe made an Appoin [...]ment to be at ſuch a time at a Far⯑mer's Houſe, a Tenant of his Father's, and who were, it ſeems, let into the wicked Secret. Ac⯑cordingly ſhe dreſſes herſelf up with the beſt of her Art, to recommend herſelf (to the Devil, I may ſay;) and away ſhe goes to meet him, having her Servan [...] Maid to attend her, becauſe it was over ſome Fields that ſhe was to go.

WHEN ſhe was n [...]ar the Houſe ſhe finds ſome Excuſe or Err [...] to ſend ba [...]k her Maid to the Town; the Wench, it ſ [...]ems, not being privy to the Buſineſs.

AS ſhe turns about to diſmiſs her Maid, the Maid offer'd to go farther 'till ſhe was nearer the Houſe; but her Miſtreſs ſees the Miniſter of the Town coming along the Path, and making that the Ex⯑cuſe, O, ſays ſhe, there's our Miniſter, Dr.—coming, ſo I ſhall have his Company; you may go back, Mary, I ſhall be ſafe enough.

THE Maid ſees the Miniſter alſo, and goes back accordingly.

[133] AS ſoon as the Miniſter came up to her, (for he ſeem'd to overtake her preſently) he gives her the uſual Compliment, and asks her how ſhe came to be in the Fields alone?

SHE anſwer'd ſhe had not been alone, but ha⯑ving Occaſion to ſend b [...]ck her Maid, ſhe diſmiſs'd her the ſooner becauſe ſhe ſaw him coming; and beſides, ſays ſhe, I am going but to that Houſe there, naming the Farmer's Name.

O, MADAM, ſays the Doctor, are you going thither? then I know your Errand.

SHE was ſurpriz'd and bluſh'd, but recovering a little, What Errand Sir? ſays ſhe

WHY, Madam, ſays he, it may not be proper for me to name the Buſineſs; but you know it well enough.

WHAT d' ye mean Sir? ſays ſhe. I don't un⯑derſtand you

WHY, ſays he, your Favourite the young Eſquire is there before you.

SHE was terribly ſurprized then, and could hardly ſpeak to him, being touch'd with Shame and Indignation; ſuppoſing the young Gentleman had boaſted of her Favours before he had receiv'd them, and had betray'd her: however, ſhe made ſtill ſtrange of it: and having, it may be ſuppos'd, conquer'd her Modeſty ſo far as to make a Promiſe or Appointment to ſacrifice her Virtue to him, ſhe might the eaſier conquer the Surprize; ſo ſhe ſeemed to ſlight it.

BUT, Madam, ſays the Miniſter, if you would take my Advice—and there he ſtop'd.

WHAT [...]dvice, Sir? ſays ſhe. I don't under⯑ſtand what you mean.

WHY, I wou'd adviſe you to go back to the Town again; and not go into the way of Miſ⯑chief.

[134] SHE ſtill withſtood, and put him off with the uſual Anſwer, I don't underſtand you; what do y [...] mean? and the like; but at laſt the Miniſter raiſing his Voice a little, like to that of a ſtern Reprover,

COME, come, young Lady, ſays he, you can't conceal your wicked Purpoſes; you have made Mr.—an Appointment; he prevail'd on you laſt Night, and you have now deck'd yourſelf up with your Ornaments to meet him, and proſtitute your Virtue, and your Honour, and your Conſcience, all to his corrupt vicious Appetite; and I know it, you may ſee that I do; my Advice to you is to go back and break your wicked Promiſe, and repent that you made it. I ſhall give him the ſame Advice pr [...]ſently.

IF ſhe was ſurpriz'd before, ſhe was confounded now, partly with Horror at the Fact itſelf, which now ſhe was ſtruck a little with the Senſe of; and partly, but Tenfold more, with the Shame of its being known. It put her into ſuch Confuſion, that at firſt ſhe could not anſwer a Word; but after a-while ſhe ſaid, If you know the Gentle⯑man is there, Sir, I ſhall not go, eſpecially ſince you have ſuch hard Thoughts of me: and upon ſaying this ſhe turns about and goes directly back again, and the Miniſter went from her towards the H [...]uſe. As the Farmer liv'd but a very little way from the Place where ſhe ſtood talking with him, ſhe look'd behind her and ſaw him go into the Houſe, and the Door ſhut after him.

ANY one will ſuppoſe upon this ſhock to her Deſign, and being not only diſappointed in her wicked Pleaſures, but expos'd and betray'd, as ſhe imagin'd, by her Lover; ſhe w [...]nt directly home without any ſtay, and there gave vent to her Paſſions with the utmoſt Rage, and with all the Re⯑ſentment that ſuch baſe Treatment could inſpire her with.

[135] THE Gentleman, on the other hand, being ex⯑tremely diſappointed, and not knowing what could be the reaſon of it, after he had waited a long time, came back to ſee what was the Matter, believing ſhe muſt be taken ill, or that ſomething had hap⯑pen'd very extraordinary.

WHEN he came to the Houſe, (ſhe liv'd it ſeems with an Aunt, whoſe Husband was alſo dependent upon the young Gentleman's Father,) he enquir'd for his Miſtreſs; but her Maid brought him Word, that ſhe could not be ſpoken with.

THAT Anſwer not being ſatisfactory, and having refus'd to be anſwered with two or three more ſuch Excuſes, at laſt ſhe ſent him Word plainly, that ſhe had nothing to ſay to him; and that ſhe not only would not ſee him now, but would never ſee him more.

SURPRIZ'D with this, and not able to gueſs the Meaning of it, he goes away; but the next Morning writes her a very civil obliging Letter, wherein, among abundance of the uſual Expreſſions of Lovers, he begs to know what he had done, that ſhould merit ſuch Treatment, and that ſhe would let him into ſo much at leaſt of the Cauſes of her Diſpleaſure, as ſhould put him in a way to clear himſelf; proteſting that he kn [...]w not the leaſt Step he had taken to diſoblige her, except in pun⯑ctually attending her Appointment; and having the Mortification of ſitting five Hours by himſelf, in Expectation of her Company.

IN Anſwer to this, ſhe ſent him a long Letter, full of Reproaches for his vile Uſage of her, draw⯑ing her into a ſinful, ſhameful Compliance with him, and then expoſing her, and triumphing over her Weakneſs; making her with one hand the pre⯑tended Object of his Amour, and with the other the Sport of his Companions. She upbraided him with telling her that he ſat five Hours alone, [136] whereas he had much better Company than ſhe could have been; ſeeing the good Doctor, who had admoniſhed her not to expoſe her ſelf in meeting him, had given him the ſame good Advice that he had done to her, and ſo had not made ſo bad a uſe of his Treachery in betraying her, as he expected.

SHE concluded with telling him, 'twas her Hap⯑pineſs that this came to her Knowledge, before ſhe had thrown her ſelf into the Arms of a Traitor; and tho' he had done her the Injuſtice to boaſt of her Weakneſs, ſhe thank'd God, he triumph'd when he had gain'd but half a Victory; hat ſhe was infinitely beholden to him for her Deliverance, and that it was the only Obligation he had ever laid upon her.

IF I could give you the Entertainment of all the Letters that paſs'd between them, while they were both under the Amuſement of the myſterious Part, and perfectly ignorant of the Occaſion, and then add the Surprize of the Diſcovery, it would make two Acts of a good Comedy; but I muſt ſhorten the Story as much as I can.

HE was ſo ſurpriz'd with this Anſwer from his Miſtreſs, that he could not tell what to make of it, and eſpecially thoſe Paragraphs which related to the good Doctor's admoniſhing her, and being in his Company; all which as he really had known no⯑thing of it, ſo there was no gueſſing at the mean⯑ing of it. 'Twas impoſſible ſo much as to have the leaſt Notion about it; 'twas all Confuſion and Dark⯑neſs, and without the leaſt Meanin [...] that he could come at. In a word, abundance of [...]etters paſs'd between them, but ſtill ſhe continu'd uſing him af⯑ter the ſame manner, talk'd the ſame ſtyle, about his betraying her, and that he acted the very Part of the D [...]il, firſt to tempt, and then to accuſe; firſt [...]o draw her in with a thouſand Importunities, and then expoſe her for complying. She reproach'd [137] him with the many Sollicitations and Proteſtations of Affection, and appeal'd to him to teſtifie, whether he had made an eaſie Conqueſt, and whether ſhe had not ſo long withſtood his moſt inceſſant Aſſaults; challeng'd him to tell how long he had beſieg'd her, and whether ſhe had yielded at laſt but on an honou⯑rable Capitulation, tho' unhappily ſhe had granted Poſſeſſion without the due Securities. She ask'd him why, when he triumph'd over her Honour, he had not had ſo much Generoſity to own what the Treaty had coſt him, and how long it was before he had gain'd that little he had to boaſt of?

HE proteſted at large, that he was perfectly ſur⯑priz'd at the whole Affair, underſtood not one Word of it, could not dive into her Meaning, ab⯑horr'd the Thought of what ſhe charg'd him with; and at laſt very warmly inſiſted upon her explain⯑ing her ſelf, and that otherwiſe, as ſhe did him ſo much Injuſtice, he would do himſelf Juſtice; for he heard ſhe made it too publick, and that tho' he had not done it yet, being tender of her Character, yet he could not bear to be treated in this manner, and not know ſomething of the Reaſon of it.

AT laſt he preſs'd her to let him but ſpeak with her; which, tho' it was long before ſhe would grant, yet ſhe did conſent to at laſt, leſt he ſhould expoſe her.

AT this Interview they began to come to an Underſtanding; ſhe own'd that ſhe was coming to the Place, but that ſhe ſaw the Miniſter go in juſt before her, which made her go back again; but ſhe did not tell him a Word of her ſeeing the Mi⯑niſter on the Way.

HE proteſted there was no Miniſter came to him, or into the Houſe; and afterwards brought the People of the Houſe to teſtifie the ſame; that he ſat all the while in the Parlour reading a Book, and that no Creature came near him, nor ſo much as to the Door.

[138] THIS ſtartled her; and at laſt, with much Im⯑portunity, ſhe told him the whole Story of her meeting with the Doctor in the Fields; and, in a word, how the Doctor told her where ſhe was going, and to who; that he was there wating for her; and, which confounded her worſe than all, had told her what ſhe was going about; adding, that ſhe had made the Promiſe the Night before, and that he, meaning the Gentleman, had told him ſo.

N. B. In this Part ſhe was miſtaken; the Doctor ſaid he had been told of it as ſoon as ſhe had made the Promiſe, and ſhe in her Surprize underſtood it, that he ſaid the Gen [...]leman told him.

HE was ſo full of this heavy Charge, and him⯑ſelf in every Part ſo clear of it, that it was impoſ⯑ſible he ſhould ſit ſtill with it. He knew not what to make of it, he knew very well that he had ne⯑ver open'd his Mouth to any one, Man, Woman or Child about it; that the Farmer, or any of his Fa⯑mily, knew not a Word of it, only that he was to me [...]t her there, as they had frequently done before, and innocently enough; and he could not ſuppoſe ſhe could be ſo weak to talk of it her ſelf; ſo that he could not yet imagine what it could be.

A FEW Days furniſh'd him with an Opportuni⯑ty to talk with the Miniſter himſelf, who came fre⯑quently to his Father's Houſe; and being one Day very free wi [...]h him, he jeſted with him, for hindring him of two or three Hours of very good Company.

THE Doctor anſwer'd him, he ſhould be very ſorry to be guilty of any thing ſo rude, and deſir'd to know how it could be.

WHY, Doctor, ſays he, we were with ſome Friends very merry at ſuch a Houſe; (inſinuating that there was more Company;) and ſuch a Lady, ſays he, (naming her,) was coming to us, and you met her, and perſuaded her to go back again.

[]

[139] SIR, ſays the Doctor, I have only one Satisfaction in the whole Story, and that is, that it cannot be true, as I ſhall ſoon ſatisfie you.

NAY Doctor, ſays the Gentleman, I don't tell it you as of my own Knowledge.

NO Sir, ſays the Doctor, and I ſhould not have ſo little Reſpect as to tell you it was falſe, if you had told it me as of your own Knowledge.

BUT do you aſſure me, ſays the Gentleman, that it is not true?

I DO aſſure you, ſays the Doctor, upon my Word, that I know nothing of it.

WHY, Doctor, ſays the Gentleman, do you give me your Word that you did not meet her in the Fields, next to Farmer Gi—'s Houſe on the eleventh Day of the very laſt Month, being Auguſt? for I have it all down in black and white * here.

* He pulls out his Pocket-Book, and looks for the Day of the Month.

NOT only not that Day, ſays the Doctor, but I never ſaw her in thoſe Fields, or any other Fields, in my Life.

WHY, you ſurprize me Doctor, ſays the Gentle⯑man; it is impoſſible.

I APPEAL to the Lady her ſelf, ſays the Doctor.

NAY, Doctor, ſays the Gentleman, if you appeal to her, you muſt be caſt; for I will ſwear ſhe told me ſo her ſelf.

THIS confounded the Doctor for a little while, but he preſently recover'd himſelf; Sir, ſays he, I was going to deſire of you, that we might wait upon Mrs.—together, and that I might hear it from her ſelf; but upon recollecting all the Cir⯑cumſtances, I am very happy in one thing, namely, that let her ſay ſo her ſelf, and forty Ladies more, I can prove to you, that it is impoſſible it ſhould be true.

THAT will indeed put an End to it all, ſays the Gentleman; but how can you do that?

[140] WHY, Sir, ſays the Doctor, are you ſure ſhe does not give you a wrong Day?

NO, no, ſays the Gentleman, I have a Reaſon why it can't be a Miſtake of the Day, for I have a Memorandum of the Day upon a remarkable * Oc⯑caſion.

* He had ſet it down in his Book upon the Occaſion of his being diſappointed.

AND it is not the Lady's Miſtake then, ſays the Doctor; for you know Women are not always the exacteſt in their Accounts of Days, nor Months, unleſs it be on worſe Accounts than I believe you were to meet about.

WELL, Doctor, ſays the Gentleman, but I am ſure of the Day, for I have it in my Book.

NAY, if it was miſtaken a Day or two, ſays the Doctor, it matters not; for, as I ſaid before, I never ſaw her in the Fields in my Life; or if I might ſee her among other People, I am ſure I never ſpoke to her. But beſides Sir, I tell you, this cannot be true, for I was at London all the laſt Month 'till the 27th Day, ſo that 'tis impoſſible.

HERE the Diſcourſe neceſſarily broke off: the Gentleman was loth to diſcover his Surprize, but told him he would enquire farther into it; and up⯑on that he goes immediately back to the Lady, re⯑proaches her a little wi [...]h her forming ſuch a Story to pick a Quarrel; but not telling her that he had been with the Miniſter at all; only, as he might eaſily know by other Circumſtances, that the Do⯑ctor was out of Town, he told her, that he would not have charg'd her with ſuch a thing in ſuch harſh Terms, if he was not, upon looking back a little upon things, come to a Certainty, that it was not only falſe, but that it was impoſſible to be true.

THEY had a long Dialogue upon that Head; and as he did not preſently tell her the Circumſtances, [141] thinking he had a little Advantage upon her, he jeſted with her pretty ſmartly upon it, ſeem'd to laugh that ſhe ſhould firſt put ſuch a Sham upon him, and then to tell ſuch a formal Story to make it good, and to excuſe her Breach of Promiſe, and that not a Word of Truth ſhould be in it.

SHE receiv'd his making a Jeſt of it with Diſ⯑dain, and told him ſhe began now to diſcover what a kind of a Man ſhe was ſo near being r [...]in'd by; and that ſhe had been in good Hands indeed, that could pretend to banter her thus; that ſhe ſho [...]ld have been fin [...]ly us'd, if the good Miniſter had not been ſent from Heaven to ſave her from being doubly undone.

HE told her ſhe was ſoon angry; but it touch'd her home; however Madam, ſays he, you ſhan't ſlander the good Man, for he had no hand in it.

WELL, well, ſays ſhe, I can better laugh at you for that Folly, than I ſhould have done for ſome⯑thing too vile to name, if I had fallen into your Hands: For, ſays ſhe, I had too much Reaſon to ſay now, that I was ſure to have been both be⯑tray'd, and expos'd.

HE ſaid ſhe grew ſcurrilous, and went from one Story to another; that ſhe told him a falſe Story, and wanted to drop it; he deſir'd her to ſtick to one thing, and go through that firſt.

SHE colour'd, and raiſing her Voice, told him 'twas below a Gentleman to give a Woman the Lie; that ſhe believ'd, if ſhe had been a Man, he durſt not have ſaid ſo to her.

HE told her ſhe was mad, and that ſhe had hap⯑pen'd to ſpeak a falſe thing, and was in a Rage be⯑cauſe ſhe could not come off of it.

SHE told him, he ſhow'd her again that he was no Gentleman; that if he gave her the Lie again ſhe would ſpit in his Face; and that if he would furniſh her with a Sword, ſhe would do her ſel [...] [142] juſtice, and give him Satisfaction as fairly as if ſhe was a Man; and that for his giving her the Lie, ſhe threw it back in his Face, he might make the beſt of it.

THAT'S Gallantly done, ſays he, Madam in⯑deed, there's a Sword for you; and offers her his own, laying it down upon the Table before her.

YOU an't even with me yet, ſays ſhe; I ſcorn as much to take up a Sword againſt a Naked Man; as you ought to have ſcorn'd, if you had been a Gen⯑tleman, to give the Lie to a Woman.

HE began now to find ſhe was too hard for him; but he came back to the Queſtion.

WELL Madam, ſays he, will you own your ſelf in the wrong, if I prove to you what I ſaid juſt now, that what you charge me with not only is falſe, but can't be true?

AY, ay, ſays ſhe, what can't be true muſt be falſe; but what does that do for you?

WELL, ſays he, will you venture ſo much upon it as—

HERE ſhe interrupted him with ſome warmth [...] ſays ſhe, I'll venture my Life upon it.

NO Madam, not your Life, ſays he, you ſhall only oblige your ſelf to perform your Promiſe, if I do prove it; and I'll promiſe never to ask you more, if I do not.

I CAN'T go that length again, to ſave Life; but I'll freely conſent to die any Death in the World, that is not by lingring Torture, if you can do it.

WHY then Madam, ſays he, you know our Ap⯑pointment was ſuch a Day: ſo he reckon'd up the Days to her, 'till ſhe underſtood the Calculation, and agreed that it was ſo.

WELL, it was ſuch a Day, ſays ſhe, and that Day I ſaw and talk'd with the Doctor in ſuch a place.

[143] WELL Madam, ſays he, and that Day, and all that part of the Month for ſeveral Days both be⯑fore and after it, the Doctor was at London. I re⯑member it, and you ſhall know it by very good Circumſtances, ſuch as cannot be deny'd. I know it by ſeveral Particulars.

HERE he related to her ſeveral Circumſtances, as if he knew them by his own Affairs, not let [...]ing her know at all that he had ſeen the Doctor and talk'd with him about it.

SHE laught at him at firſt, and told him, that he had been too old for her before; but ſhe was too old for this now: that ſhe might be impoſed upon in many things; but when ſhe ſaw a Man that ſhe knew, and had known from a Child, and talk'd with a Man ſhe had talk'd to a thouſand times, and had heard Preach for almoſt fifteen Years, he muſt not think to run her down with Words: that ſhe aſſur'd him 'twas ſo, and there was an end of the thing.

WELL Madam, ſays he, and you pretend he came to the Houſe too while I was there? How do you pretend to prove that?

ONLY, ſays ſhe, that I ſtood ſtill with my Eyes open, ſaw him at the Door, ſaw little Jacky G—s, the Farmer's Son, open the Door to him, make him a Bow, ſaw the Doctor go in, ſaw the Door ſhut to again when he was in; that is all, ſays ſhe, and ſmil'd.

WELL, ſays he, I can only ſay this, I will have the bottom of it out; for I will not be charg'd as guilty of uſing you ill, while I know nothing of it.

NO, no, ſays ſhe, I don't ſay I am us'd ill, I am us'd well, very well: and here ſhe puts on an Air of Satisfaction, and ſings,

HER Singing put him into a Paſſion; for he took her Song of the Devil to mean himſelf; and he told her 'twas all a ſcandalous Fiction of her own, and ſhe ſhould hear more of him; and ſo of⯑fered to go out.

SHE bad him do his worſt, and made him a Curtſy, as if ſhe ſuppos'd he had been juſt going away; and now ſhe laught outright at him.

BUT he cou'd not go away yet; he told her he would not have her expoſe her ſelf, that ſhe ought not to uſe him ſo, and ſhe would but force him to make her aſhamed of it.

[145] SHE told him it was good Advice, to bid her not expoſe her ſelf, and ſhe had the more need of it; becauſe he had expoſed her ſo much already.

THEN he told [...]er he would bring the Farmer and all his Family to her, to prove that the Doctor had not been there that Day, nor for five Months before; and the Boy ſhould teſtify that he never ſaw him, nor open'd the Door, nor let him in.

WELL Sir, ſays ſhe, now you come cloſe to the Point; pray let all this be done: But let me ask one thing for you to think of as you go on; Do you think I know Doctor—our Miniſter?

YES Madam, ſays he, I believe you know him well enough, and that makes me wonder at you the more.

WELL, and do you think my Maid Mary knows him? ſays ſhe.

YES, ſays he, I believe ſhe does; for ſhe was born in the Town.

WELL, ſays ſhe, then I have one Witneſs of my ſide; you ſhall hear what ſhe ſays.

WHY Madam, ſays he, was Mary with you?

YOU ſhall hear preſently, ſays ſhe.

So ſhe rings a little Bell, and in comes her Maid.

Mary, don't you remember you walk'd out into the Field with me one Day laſt Month?

WHAT, when you went to Farmer Gi—'s, Madam, and ſent me back again?

YES; don't you remember you would fain a gone further?

YES Madam, I was afraid you ſhould go over the laſt Field alone.

BUT what did I ſay to you, Mary?

WHY you would make me go back; by the ſame Token we ſaw our Miniſter Dr.—a coming after us, and you ſaid the Doctor would [164] ſee you ſafe; and ſo I came away contented when I ſaw him.

ARE you ſure 'twas the Doctor, Mary?

SURE, Madam! yes: why he ſpoke to me.

WHAT did he ſay to you?

HE ſaid, How d'ye do Mrs. Mary? and touch'd his Hat, juſt as he us'd to do.

WELL Sir, ſays ſhe, then you ſee I wa'n't drunk, nor I did not walk in my Sleep. If it were conve⯑nient I would ſend for the Doctor this Minute, and he ſhould tell you what he ſaid to me.

CONVENIENT or not convenient, ſays he, I'll ſend for him, or go to him, for I will find it out: and then he ſwore a little.

THAT'S much about as kind as all the reſt, ſays ſhe; rather expoſe any body than your ſelf; but do your worſt, the Snare is broken and I am eſcap'd, 'twill expoſe your ſelf at laſt.

COME Madam, ſays he, you ſhall ſee I can talk it with the Doctor, and that before your Face; and yet he ſhall know nothing of the matter.

I KNOW a little too much of that, ſays ſhe; he know nothing of it! and then ſhe ſmil'd.

THIS put him almoſt out of all Temper, and he gave her ill Words again; and at laſt added the whole Story, and told her downright, that he had talk'd with the Doctor already; and that he ſolemnly proteſted he knew nothing of it, and had never ſeen her or ſpoken with her for ſo long time, naming the time when he ſpoke laſt to her; like⯑wiſe he told her what the Doctor ſaid of his having been at London all thoſe three Weeks when this hap⯑pen'd.

SHE begun to be amaz'd, and a little confound⯑ed at this; but recovering her ſelf, ſhe told him, that if the Doctor was there himſelf, ſhe had a di⯑rect anſwer to give him, for ſhe was not a Papiſt [...]o believe a Prieſt againſt her own Senſes.

[147] WHAT anſwer can you give, Madam, ſays he, when the Doctor ſhall prove by twenty Witneſſes, if need were, that he was at London, almoſt a hun⯑dred Mile off, all the while?

WHY my Anſwer would be this, that 'twas either he or the Devil.

WELL then it was the Devil, ſays he; I won't diſpute that with you, Madam.

NO, no, ſays ſhe [...] I can ſatisfy you that it could not be the Devil; I can convince you; you will acknowledge it preſently: Do you think the Devil would have turn'd me back again, when he knew the dreadful Errand I was going on?

NAY, ſays he calmly, I confeſs that's the beſt thing you have ſaid yet; who then cou'd it be? ſays he; for 'tis plain it could not be the Doctor.

THEN, ſays ſhe, it muſt be ſome heavenly Ap⯑pearance in the Doctor's Cloaths, for I knew not his Face and his Voice only, but his very Gown; and if it was a good Angel, I have the more rea⯑ſon to be thankful that he hindred me from running into the Arms of the Devil: and with that ſhe fell a crying, ſhe could hold out no longer.

WELL, they parted after this Scuffle, for he was a little daunted himſelf.

BUT my Story does not end here; for a little while after ſomething happen'd that explain'd all the reſt: The Lady had a Viſit to pay at a Neigh⯑bour's Houſe, who liv'd a little out of the Town, only over one little Encloſure, which ſhe was ob⯑lig'd to croſs: Now as ſhe was going over that Cloſe or Encloſure, who ſhould ſhe meet but the Doctor again; and ſhe ſaw him a good while before he came up to her.

SHE was ſurpriz'd at ſeeing him; and if ſhe could have avoided him ſhe would: but 'twas im⯑poſſible. When he came up to he [...], he pull'd off his Hat very courteouſly, and immediately began to [148] diſcourſe of what he had ſaid to her before; but took no Notice at all of its having been deny'd.

SIR, ſays ſhe, I have been very ill us'd upon that Day's Work.

I KNOW it, ſays he, I know it, repeating the Words: But your Innocence ſhall be cleared up, I will do it my ſelf; do you be thankful that you eſcap'd the Snare: And ſo, giving her no time to an⯑ſwer, he paſs'd by her without taking any farewell: which being a little Particular, made her turn her Head to look at him: But tho' it was in the mid⯑dle of the Field, which was too large for him to be out of it if he had flown as ſwift as a Pidgeon, (for it was not above a Moment, not a Second of Time) he was gone, and ſhe ſaw nothing.

SHE was exceedingly ſurpriz'd, and ready to ſink into the Ground; ſhe was ſo frighted that ſhe could not help fitting down even upon the Graſs; for her Joints trembled under her, ſo that ſhe could not ſtand.

IT happen'd that a poor Woman of the Town came croſs the Cloſe at the very juncture, and knowing her, ſhe call'd to her to come and help her up. She did not tell the Woman what had hap⯑pen'd to her, but that ſhe was taken with a fit of trembling, and that if ſhe had not ſat down ſhe muſt have fallen down; all which was true: ſo the poor Woman help'd her up, and led her home, where ſhe continued very ill of the Fright for ſe⯑veral Days.

IN this time ſhe had a very great deſire to ſee the Gentleman, for by what the Apparition ſaid to her ſhe made no doubt but he had ſeen it too.

AFTER ſome time he had heard that ſhe was very ill, and thinking what he had ſaid to her might have had ſome influence upon her, to hurt her, he reſolv'd to go and ſee her; for tho' he had ruffled her pretty much; yet, as he ſaid afterwards, [149] he lov'd her very well; and the better for her ſo ſeaſonably recovering her Vir [...]ue and good Princi⯑ples; and much better than he believ'd he ſhould have done, if he had had his Will of her, as he ſhould certainly have had, if ſhe had met him that time at the Farmer's.

WITH theſe kind Thoughts h [...] went to viſit her; and tho' ſhe was very ill, yet ſhe would be brought out of her Chamber to ſee him.

AFTER ſome Civilities, he frankly told her the reaſon of his Viſit word for word as above, and that he came to chear her up a little.

SHE thank'd him; but told him it was true it had extremely troubled her, to think firſt how near ſhe had b [...]en to her utter Ruin, and then how needleſly ſhe had been expos'd for it; and that tho' ſhe had no Guilt, as he very well knew, other than that which was in the firſt wicked Conſenting; yet ſhe had been as much expos'd, as if ſhe had been really his Whore.

HE proteſted to her that he never had opened his Lips of it to the Doctor, or any one elſe; and that it was the Reſentment at the charging him with it, that had made him ſo angry, and nothing elſe; for that he ſcorn'd any thing ſo baſe.

SHE told him it was impoſſible for any one to believe otherwiſe before; but that ſhe believ'd he was ſatisfied how it all was, now; and that ſome⯑thing had happen'd ſince, which had open'd her Eyes, tho' it had almoſt kill'd her; and ſhe believ'd he knew ſomething of it too.

HE wanted to know what it was, for he pro⯑teſted he knew nothing. What ſays he, is there any more Myſteries?

SHE ſaid, ſhe could not tell him, becauſe ſhe ſuppos'd he would not believe her.

HE anſwer'd, he would believe her in every thing, that he ought to believe any body in.

[150] SHE told him, ſhe believ'd there would be no occaſion to tell him, for that ſhe did not doubt but he would be inform'd the ſame way that ſhe was, if he was not already.

HE importun'd her earneſtly to let him know what it was; and that with ſuch a ſerious kind of Diſcourſe, that ſhe fancy'd he had ſeen ſomething too; but it ſeems he had not: However he en⯑treated her ſo much, that at laſt ſhe let him know the whole Story, as above.

THER [...] is a great deal more belongs to this Story, which would be very diverting, and not without its Uſes too; but as the particular Rela⯑tion does not come within the verge of my own Knowledge, I cannot vouch all the Particulars, at leaſt not ſufficiently.

HOWEVER, 'tis enough to the Caſe in hand: If the Apparition came to prevent this poor de⯑luded young Lady from proſtituting her ſelf to a Man that had wheedled her in upon ſuch diſhonou⯑rable Terms; it could not certainly be the Devil, or any Spirit of his Claſs, or under his Govern⯑ment and Direction; he would never have exhorted her to go back, reproach'd her with the Crime, and prevail'd upon her to believe it had been re⯑veal'd to him by the Treachery of her Lover.

THIS muſt be certainly one of thoſe Angelick Guards which the God of Nature, in Mercy to Mankind, has placed as a detach'd Body of Spirits to counter-act the Devil, prevent the Arch-ene⯑my ſeducing his Creatures, and over-whelming the World with Crime; and if the Story be as I have receiv'd it and now handed it down, it ſeems a merciful Diſpoſition of Providence in Favour of the Gentleman, as well as the Lady; and be it a Pa⯑rable or a Hiſtory, the Moral is the ſame, and the Improvement of it the ſame too: They that are [...]unning the ſame Courſe of Folly would have Reaſon [151] to be very thankful if they were ſure to meet with the ſame kind of Diſappointment, and would never ſay it was the Devil that told it them.

THE Gentleman it ſeems did not ſlight the Story ſo much as ſhe expected he would, nor did he queſtion the Truth of any or every Part of it; for ſhe told it with ſo much Steadineſs, always a⯑greeing in every Particular, and gave ſo concur⯑ring Accounts of the Circumſtances as they related to what had happened before, that it was appa⯑rent 'twas no Deluſion.

THAT which made him moſt uneaſy, was that the Apparition ſeem'd to promiſe to appear to him; and he had no Deſire to be convinc'd that way. Indeed the Story, at leaſt ſo far as I have the Particulars, breaks off a little abruptly there and does not ſay whether he ever ſaw any thing or no. But it ſaid, it made him be quite another Man in his Way of living than ever he was before; and particularly he was very thankful that he had been prevented being ſo wicked with her as in all Pro⯑bability he had been, if this had not happen'd.

NOW this Apparition, as is ſaid above, could not with any manner of Reaſon, be ſuppoſed to be the Devil; for why ſhould an Evil Spirit appear, to keep any Perſon from doing Evil? Why ſhould it aſſume a real Shape, namely that of a Miniſter in his Gown and Caſſock, and that it was in Appearance the very Miniſter of the Pariſh; for all this ſhe con⯑ſtantly affirm'd, and t [...]o things are natural Infe⯑rences from it.

FIRST, That the Appearance was real.

SECONDLY, That it was a good Spirit.

LET the Divines read us Lectures upon the Nature of Spirits, and upon how far they can or cannot take Cognizance of human Affairs; That I have nothing to do with here; my Buſineſs is to obſerve the Matter of Fact, viz. that they do come [152] hither, do appear, and are ſeen, talk'd to and con⯑vers'd with, and that they do come on good Errands, and therefore are not likely to be evil Spirits or Devils.

TAKE another Hiſtorical Relation, which, tho' I name no Names, I have very good Authority for the Truth of, and that more particularly than for the other.

A GENTLEMAN of a very good Eſtate mar⯑ried a Lady of alſo a good Fortune, and had one Son by her, and one Daughter, and no more, and after a few Years his Lady died. He ſoon married a ſecond Venter; and his ſecond Wife, tho' of an inferior Qua⯑lity and Fortune to the former, took upon her to diſ⯑courage and diſcountenance his Children by his firſt Lady, and made the Family very uncomfortable, both to the Children and to their Father alſo.

THE firſt thing of Conſequence which this Con⯑duct of the Mother-in-Law produced in the Family, was that the Son, who began to be a Man, ask'd the Father's Leave to go abroad to travel. The Mother⯑in-Law, tho' willing enough to be rid of the young Man, yet becauſe it would require ſomething con⯑ſiderable to ſupport his Expences abroad, violently oppos'd it, and brought his Father alſo to refuſe him, after he had freely given him his Conſent.

THIS ſo affected the young Gentleman, that after uſing all the dutiful Applications to his Father that he could poſſibly do, as well by himſelf as by ſome other Relations, but to no purpoſe; and being a little encouraged by an Uncle, who was Brother to his Mother, his Father's firſt Lady, he reſolv'd to go abroad without Leave, and accordingly did ſo.

WHAT Part of the World he travelled into I do not remember; it ſeems his Father had con⯑ſtantly Intelligence from him for ſome time, and was prevail'd with to make him a reaſonable Allowance [153] for his Subſiſtance, which the young Gentleman always drew Bills for, and they were honourably paid; but after ſome time, the Mother⯑in-Law prevailing at home, one of his Bills of Exchange was refus'd, and being proteſted, was ſent back without Acceptance; upon which he drew no more, nor did he write any more Letters, or his Father hear any thing from him for upwards of four Years, or thereabouts.

UPON this long Silence, the Mother-in-Law made her Advantage ſeveral Ways; ſhe firſt intima⯑ted to his Father that he muſt needs be dead; and conſequently, his Eſtate ſhould be ſettled upon her eldeſt Son, (for ſhe had ſeveral Children.) His Fa⯑ther withſtood the Motion very firmly, but the Wife harr [...]ſs'd him with her Importunities; and ſhe argued upon two Points againſt him, I mean the Son.

FIRST, If he was dead, then there was no room to object, her Son being Heir at Law.

SECONDLY, If he was not dead, his Beha⯑viour to his Father in not writing for ſo long a Time was inexcuſable, and he ought to reſent it, and ſettle the Eſtate as if he were dead; that no⯑thing could be more diſobliging, and his Father ought to depend upon it that he was dead, and treat him as if he was ſo; for he that would uſe a Father ſo, ſhould be taken for one dead, as to his filial Relation, and be treated accordingly.

HIS Father however ſtood out a long time, and told her that he could not anſwer it to his Con⯑ſcience; that there might happen many things in the World, which might render his Son unable to write; that he might be taken by the Turks, and carried into Slavery; or he migh [...] be among the Perſians or Arabians (which it ſeems was the Cafe) and ſo could not get any Letters convey'd; and that he could not be ſatisfied to diſinherit him, [154] 'till he knew whether he had Reaſon for it or no, or whether his Son had offended him or no.

THESE Anſwers, however juſt, were far from ſtopping her Importunities, which ſhe carried on ſo far, that ſhe gave him no Reſt, and it made an unquiet Family; ſhe carried it very ill to him, and in a word, made her Children do ſo too; and the Gentleman was ſo wearied out with it, that once or twice he came to a kind of Conſent to do it, but his Heart fail'd him, and then he fell back again, and refuſed.

HOWEVER, her having brought him ſo near it, was an Encouragement to her to go on with her reſtleſs Sollicitations, 'till at laſt he came thus far to a proviſional Agreement, that if he did not hear from his Son by ſuch a time, or before it, he would conſent to a re-ſettling the Eſtate.

SHE was not well ſatisfied with the conditional Agreement, but being able to obtain no other, ſhe was oblig'd to accept of it as 'twas; tho', as ſhe often told him, ſhe was far from being ſatisfied with it as to the Time, for he had fix'd it for four Years, as above.

HE grew angry at her telling him ſo, and an⯑ſwer'd, that ſhe ought to be very well ſatisfied with it, for that it was time little enough, as his Son's Circumſtances might be.

WELL, ſhe teiz'd him however ſo continually, that at laſt ſhe brought him down to one Year: But before ſhe brought him to that, ſhe told him one Day in a Heat, that ſhe hoped his Ghoſt would one time or other appear to him, and tell him, that he was dead, and that he ought to do Juſtice to his other Children, for he ſhould never come to claim the Eſtate.

WHEN he came, ſo much againſt his Will, to conſent to ſhorten the time to one Year, he told her, that he hoped his Son's Ghoſt, tho' he was [155] not dead, would come to her, and tell her he was alive, before the Time expired: For why, ſays he, may not injur'd Souls walk while embodied, as well as afterwards?

IT happen'd one Evening after this, that they had a moſt violent Family Quarrel upon this Sub⯑ject, when on a ſudden a Hand appeared at a Caſe⯑ment, endeavouring to open it; but as all the iron Caſements, uſed in former Times, open'd outward, but haſp'd or faſten'd themſelves in the Inſide; ſo the Hand ſeem'd to try to open the Caſement, but could not. The Gentleman did not ſee it, but his Wife did, and ſhe preſently ſtarted up, as if ſhe was frighted, and forgetting the Quarrel they had upon their Hands, Lord bleſs me! ſays ſhe, there are Thieves in the Garden. Her Husband ran im⯑mediately to the Door of the Room they ſat in, and opening it, look'd out.

THERE'S no body in the Garden, ſays he; ſo he clapt the Door again, and came back.

I AM ſure, ſays ſhe, I ſaw a Man there.

IT muſt be the Devil then, ſays he, for I'm ſure there's no body in the Garden.

I'LL ſwear, ſays ſhe, I ſaw a Man put his Hand up to open the Caſement; but finding it faſt, and I ſuppoſe, adds ſhe, ſeeing us in the Room, he walk'd off.

IT is impoſſible he could be gone, ſays he; did not I run to the Door immediately? and you know the Garden Walls on both ſides hinder him going

PRY'THEE, ſays ſhe angrily, I an't drunk nor in a Dream, I know a Man when I ſee him, and 'tis not dark, the Sun is not quite down.

YOU'RE only frighted with Shadows, ſays he, very full of Ill-nature: Folks generally are ſo that are haunted with an evil Conſcience: it may be 'twas the Devil.

[156] NO, no, I'm not ſoon frighted, ſays ſhe; if 'twas the Devil, 'twas the Ghoſt of your Son: it may be come to tell you he was gone to the Devil, and you might give your Eſtate to your eldeſt Baſtard, ſince you won't ſettle it on the lawful Heir.

IF it was my Son, ſays he, he's come to tell us he's alive, I warrant you, and to ask you how you can be ſo much a Devil to deſire me to diſinhe⯑rit him; and with thoſe Words, Alexander, ſays he aloud, repeating it twice, ſtarting up out of his Chair, if you are alive ſhow your ſelf, and don't let me be inſulted thus every Day with your being dead.

AT thoſe very Words, the Caſement which the Hand had been ſeen at by the Mother, open'd of itſelf, and his Son Alexander look'd in with a full Face, and ſtaring directly upon the Mother with an angry Countenance, cry'd Here, and then va⯑niſh'd in a Moment.

THE Woman that was ſo ſtout before, ſhriek'd out in a moſt diſmal manner, ſo as alarm'd the whole Houſe; her Maid ran into the Parlour, to ſee what was the matter, but her Miſtreſs was fainted away in her Chair.

SHE was not fallen upon the Ground, becauſe it being a great eaſie Chair, ſhe ſunk a little back againſt the ſide of the Chair, and Help coming im⯑mediately in, they kept her up; but it was not 'till a great while after, that ſhe recover'd enough to be ſenſible of any thing.

HER Husband run immediately to the Parlour Door, and opening it went into the Garden, but there was nothing; and after that he run to another Door that open'd from the Houſe into the Garden, and then to two other Doors which open'd out of his Garden, one into the Stable-yard, and ano⯑ther into the Field beyond the Garden, but found [157] them all faſt ſhut and barr'd; but on one ſide was his Gardener, and a Boy, drawing the Rolling⯑ſtone: he ask'd them if any body elſe had been in the Garden, but they both conſtantly affirmed no body had been there, and they were both rolling a Gravel-walk near the Houſe.

UPON this he comes back into the Room, ſits him down again, and ſaid not one Word for a good while; the Women and Servants being buſy all the while, and in a Hurry, endeavouring to recover his Wife.

AFTER ſome time ſhe recover'd ſo far as to ſpeak, and the firſt Words ſhe ſaid,

L—d bleſs me! what was it?

NAY, ſays her Husband, 'twas Alexander to be ſure.

WITH that ſhe ſell into a Fit, and skream'd and ſhriek'd out [...]gain moſt terribly.

HER Husband not thinking that would have [...]ffected her, did what he could to perſuade her out of it again; but that would not do, and they were oblig'd to carry her to Bed, and get ſome help to her; but ſhe continued very ill for ſeveral Days after.

HOWEVER this put an end for ſome conſide⯑rable time to her Sollicitations about his Diſinhe⯑riting her Son-in-Law.

BUT Time, that hardens the Mind in caſes of a worſe Nature, wore this off alſo by degrees, and ſhe began to revive the old Cauſe again, tho' not at firſt ſo eagerly as before.

NAY he us'd her a little hardly upon ittoo, and [...]f ever th [...]y had any Words about it he would bid her hold her Tongue, or that if ſhe talked any more upon that Subject, he would call Alexand [...]r again to open the Caſement.

THIS aggravated Things much; and tho' it ter⯑rify'd her a great while, yet at length ſhe was ſo [158] exaſperated, that ſhe told him ſhe believ'd he dealt with the Devil, and that he had ſold himſelf to the Devil only to be able to fright his Wife.

HE jeſted with her, and told her any Man wou'd be beholden to the Devil to huſh a noiſy Wo⯑man, and that he was very glad he had found the Way to do it, whatever it coſt him.

SHE was ſo exaſperated at this, that ſhe threa⯑ten'd him if he play'd any more of his helliſh Arts with her, ſhe wou'd have him Indicted for a Wi⯑zard, and having a Familiar; and ſhe could prove it, ſhe ſaid, plain enough, for that he had rais'd the Devil on purpoſe to fright his Wife.

THE Fray parted that Night with ill Words and ill Nature enough, but he little thought ſhe intended as ſhe ſaid, and the next Day he had for⯑got it all, and was as good-humour'd as if nothing had happened.

BUT he found his Wife chagreen'd and diſtur⯑bed very much, full of Reſentment, and threatning him with what ſhe reſolv'd to do.

HOWEVER he little thought ſhe intended him the Miſchief ſhe had in her Head, offering to talk friendly to her; but ſhe rejected it with Scorn, and told him ſhe would be as good as her Word, for ſhe wou'd not live with a Man that ſhould bring the Devil into the Room as often as he thought fit, to murther his Wife.

HE ſtrove to pacify her by fair Words, but ſhe told him ſhe was in earneſt with him: and in a Word ſhe was in earneſt; for ſhe goes away to a Juſtice, and making an Affidavit that her Huſ⯑band had a Familiar Spirit, and that ſhe went in Danger of her Life, ſhe obtain'd a Warrant for him to be apprehended.

IN ſhort, ſhe brought home the Warrant, ſhew'd it him, and told him ſhe had not given it into the Hands of an Officer, becauſe he ſhould have [159] the Liberty to go voluntarily before the Juſtice of the Peace, and if he thought fit to let her know when he would be ready, ſhe would be ſo too, and would get ſome of her own Friends to go along with her.

HE was ſurpriz'd at this, for he little thought ſhe had been in earneſt with him and endeavour'd to pacify her by all the Ways poſſible; but ſhe found ſhe had frighted him heartily, and ſo indeed ſhe had, for tho' the thing had nothing in it of Guilt, yet he found it might expoſe him very much, and being loth to have ſuch a Thing brought upon the Stage againſt him, he uſed all the Entreaties with her that he was able, and begged her not to do it.

BUT the more he humbled himſelf, the more ſhe triumph'd over him; and carrying Things to an unſufferable height of Inſolence, ſhe told him at laſt ſhe would make him do Juſtice, as ſhe call'd it; that ſhe was ſure ſhe cou'd have him puniſh'd if he continu'd obſtinate, and ſhe wou'd not be expos'd to Witchcraft and Sorc [...]ry; for ſhe did not know to what length he might carry it.

TO bring the Story to a Concluſion; ſhe got the better of him to ſuch a degree, that he offer'd to refer the thing to indifferent Perſons, Friends on both Sides; and they met ſeveral Times, but could bring it to no Concluſion. His Friends ſaid there was nothing in it, and they would not have him comply with any thing upon the Pre⯑tence of it; that he called for his Son, and ſome body open'd the Caſement and cry'd here; that there was not the leaſt Evidence of Witchcraft in that, and inſiſted that ſhe cou'd make nothing of it.

HER Friends carried it high, inſtructed by her: She offer'd to ſwear that he had threatned her be⯑fore with his Son's Ghoſt; that now he viſibly rais'd [160] a Spectre; for that calling upon his Son, who was dead to be ſure, the Ghoſt immediately appear'd; that he could not have called up the Devil thus to perſonate his Son, if he had not dealt with the Devil himſelf, and had a familiar Spirit, and that this was of dangerous Conſequence to her.

UPON the whole, the Man wanted Courage to ſtand it, and was afraid of being expos'd; ſo that he was grievouſly perplex'd, and knew not what to do.

WHEN ſhe found him humbled as much as ſhe cou'd deſire, ſhe told him if he would do her Ju⯑ſtice, as ſhe call'd it, (that is to ſay, ſettle his Eſtate upon her Son,) ſhe would put it up, on Condition that he ſhould promiſe to fright her no more with raiſing the Devil.

THAT part of the Propoſal exaſperated him again, and he upbraided her with the Slander of it, and told her he defy'd her, and ſhe might do her worſt.

THUS it broke off all Treaty, and ſhe began to threaten him again; however, at length, ſhe brought him to comply, and he gives a Writing under his Hand to her, ſome of her Friends being by, promiſing that he would comply if his Son did not arrive, or ſend an Account of himſelf, with⯑in four Months.

SHE was ſatisfy'd with this, and they were all made Friends again, and accordingly he gave the Writing; but when he deliver'd it to her in Pre⯑ſence of her two Arbitrators, he took the Liberty to ſay to her, with a grave and ſolemn kind of Speech:

LOOK you, ſays he, you have worry'd me into this Agreement by your fiery Temper, and I have ſign'd it againſt Juſtice, Conſcience and Reaſon; but depend upon it, I ſhall never perform it.

[161] ONE of the Arbitrators ſaid, Why, Sir, this is doing nothing; for if you reſolve not to perform it, what ſignifies the Writing? Why do you promiſe what you do not intend ſhall be done? This will but kindle a new Flame to begin with, when the Time fix'd expires.

WHY, ſays he, I am ſatisfy'd in my Mind that my Son is alive.

COME, come, ſays his Wife, ſpeaking to the Gen⯑tleman that had argued with her Husband, let him ſign the Agreement, and let me alone to make him perform the Conditions.

WELL, ſays her Husband, you ſhall have the Writing, and you ſhall be let alone; but I am ſa⯑tisfy'd you will never ask me to perform it; and yet I am no Wizard, adds he, as you have wick⯑edly ſuggeſted.

SHE reply'd that ſhe would prove that he dealt with the Devil, for that he rais'd an evil Spirit by only calling his Son by his Name; and ſo began to tell the Story of the Hand and the Caſement.

COME, ſays the Man to the Gentleman that was her Friend, give me the Pen; I never dealt with but one Devil in my Life, and there it ſits, turning to his Wife; and now I have made an Agreement with her, that none but the Devil wou'd deſire any Man to ſign: and I will ſign it; I ſay, give me the Pen, but ſhe nor all the Devils in Hell will ever be able to get it executed, remem⯑ber I ſay ſo.

SHE began to open at him, and ſo a new Flame [...]ould have been kindled, but the Gentlemen mo⯑ [...]erated between them; and her Husband ſetting [...]is Hand to the Writing put an end to the Fray [...]t that time.

AT the end of four Months ſhe challeng'd the [...]erformance, and a Day was appointed, and her two [...]riends that had been the Arbitrators were invited [162] to Dinner upon this Occaſion, believing that he Husband would have executed the Deeds; and ac⯑cordingly the Writings were brought all forth, en⯑groſs'd, and read over; and ſome old Writings which at her Marriage were ſign'd by her Truſtees in or⯑der to her quitting ſome part of the Eſtate to her Son, were alſo brought to be cancell'd. The Huſ⯑band being brought over by fair Means or foul, I know not whether, to be in a Humour for Peace ſake to execute the Deeds, and diſinherit his Son; alledging that, indeed, if he was dead it was no wrong to him, and if he was alive he was very unkind and undutiful to his Father in not letting him hear from him in all that time.

BESIDES it was urg'd that if he ſhould at any time afterwards appear to be alive, his Father (who had very much encreas'd, it ſeems, in his Wealth,) was able to give him another Fortune, and to make him a juſt Satisfaction for the Loſs he ſhould ſu⯑ſtain by the Paternal Eſtate.

UPON theſe Conſiderations, I ſay, they had brought over the poor low-ſpirited Husband to be almoſt willing to comply; or at leaſt, willing or un⯑willing, it was to be done, and (as above) they me [...] accordingly.

WHEN they had diſcourſed upon all the Parti⯑culars, and (as above) the new Deeds were read over, ſhe or her Husband took the old Writings up to cancel them; I think the Story ſays it was the Wife, not her Husband, that was juſt going to tear off the Seal, when on a ſudden they heard a ruſhing Noiſe in the Parlour where they ſat, as if ſome body had come in at the Door of the Room which opened from the Hall, and went thro' the Room towards the Garden Door, which was ſhut.

THEY were all ſurpriz'd at it, for it was very diſtinct, but they ſaw nothing. The Woman turn'd pale, and was in a terrible Fright; however, [163] as nothing was ſeen, ſhe recover'd a little, but be⯑gan to ruffle her Husband again.

WHAT, ſays ſhe, have you laid your Plot to bring up more Devils again?

THE Man ſat compos'd, tho' he was under no little Surprize too.

ONE of her Gentlemen ſaid to him, What is the meaning of all this?

I PROTEST, Sir, ſays he, I know no more of it than you do.

WHAT can it be then? ſaid the other Gentle⯑man.

I CANNOT conceive, ſays he, for I am utterly unacquainted with ſuch Things.

HAVE you heard nothing from your Son? ſays the Gentleman.

NOT one Word, ſays the Father, no not the leaſt Word theſe five Years.

HAVE you wrote nothing to him, ſays the Gen⯑tleman, about this Tranſaction?

NOT a Word, ſays he, for I know not where to direct a Letter to him.

SIR, ſays the Gentleman, I have heard much of Apparitions, but I never ſaw any in my Life, nor did I ever believe there was any thing of Reality in them; and indeed I ſaw nothing now: but the paſſing of ſome Body, or Spirit, or ſomething, croſs the Room juſt now, is plain; I heard it diſtinctly. I believe there is ſome unſeen Thing in the Room, as much as if I ſaw it.

NAY, ſays the other Arbitrator, I felt the Wind of it as it paſs'd by me. Pray, adds he, turning to the Husband, do you ſee nothing yourſelf?

NO, upon my Word, ſays he, not the leaſt Ap⯑pearance in the World.

I HAVE been told, ſays the firſt Arbitrator, and h [...]ve Read that an Apparition may be ſeen by ſome [164] People, and be Inviſible to others, tho' all in the ſame Room together.

HOWEVER the Husband ſolemnly proteſted to them all that he ſaw nothing.

PRAY, Sir, ſays the firſt Arbitrator, have you ſeen any thing at any other time, or heard any Voi⯑ces or Noiſes, or had any Dreams about this Matter?

INDEED, ſays he, I have ſeveral times dream'd my Son is alive, and that I had ſpoken with him; and once that I ask'd him, why he was ſo undutiful, and ſlighted me ſo, as not to let me hear of him in ſo many Years, ſeeing he knew it was in my Power to diſinherit him.

WELL, Sir, and what Anſwer did he give?

I NEVER dream'd ſo far on as to have him an⯑ſwer; it always wak [...]d me.

AND what do you think of it yourſelf, ſays the Arbitrator, do you think he is dead?

NO, indeed, ſays the Father, I do believe in my Conſcience he is alive, as much as I believe I am alive myſelf; and I am going to do as wicked a thing of its Kind as ever any Man did.

TRULY, ſays the ſecond Arbitrator, it begins to ſhock me, I don't know what to ſay to it; I don't care to meddle any more with it, I don't like driving Men to act againſt their Conſciences.

WITH this the Wife, who, as I ſaid, having a little recover'd her Spirits, and eſpecially encou⯑rag'd, becauſe ſhe ſaw nothing, ſtarted up; What's all this Diſcourſe to the purpoſe, ſays ſhe, is it not all agreed already? what do we come here for?

NAY, ſays the firſt Arbitrator, I think we meet now not to enquire into why it is done, but to execute Things according to Agreement, and what are we frighted at?

I'M not frighted, ſays the Wife, not I; come, ſays ſhe to her Husband haughtily, ſign the Deed; I'll cancel the old Writings if forty Devils were in [165] the Room; and with that ſhe takes up one of the Deeds, and went to tear off the Seal.

THAT Moment the ſame Caſement flew open again, tho' it was faſt in the Inſide, juſt as it was before; and the Shadow of a Body was ſeen, as ſtanding in the Garden without, and the Head reaching up to the Caſement, the Face looking into the Room, and ſtaring directly at the Woman with a ſtern and an angry Counte⯑nonce; HOLD, ſaid the Spectre, as if ſpeaking to the Woman; and immediately clap'd the Caſement to again, and vaniſh'd.

IT is impoſſible to deſcribe here the Conſter⯑nation this ſecond Apparition put the whole Com⯑pany into; the Wife, who was ſo bold juſt before, that ſhe wou'd do it tho' forty Devils were in the Room, skream'd out like a Woman in Fits, and let the Writing fall out of her Hands: The two Arbitrators were exceedingly terrify'd, but not ſo much as the reſt; but one of them took up the Award which they had ſign'd, in which they awar⯑ded the Husband to execute the Deed to diſpoſe of the Eſtate from the Son.

I DARE ſay, ſaid he, be the Spirit a good Spi⯑rit or a bad, it will not be againſt cancelling this; ſo he tore his Name out of the Award, and ſo did the other, by his Example, and both of them got up from their Seats, and ſaid they would have no more to do in it.

BUT that which was moſt unexpected of all was, that the Man himſelf was ſo frighted, that he fainted away; notwithſtanding it was, as it might be ſaid, in his favour.

THIS put an end to the whole Affair at that time; and, as I underſtand by the Sequel, it did ſo for ever.

THE Story has many Particulars more in it, too long to trouble you with; but two Particulars, [166] which are to the Purpofe, I muſt not omit, Viz.

1. THAT in about four or five Months more after this ſecond Apparition, the Man's Son arriv'd from the Eaſt-Indies, whither he had gone four Years before in a Portugueze Ship from Lisbon.

2. THAT upon being particularly enquired of about theſe Things, and eſpecially whether he had any Knowledge of them, or any Apparition to him, or Voices, or other Intimation as to what was do⯑ing in England, relating to him; he affirmed con⯑ſtantly that he had not, except that once he drea⯑med his Father had written him an angry Letter, threatning him that if he did not come home he would diſinherit him, and leave him not one Shil⯑ling. But he added, that he never did receive any ſuch Letter from his Father in his Life, or from any one elſe.

CHAP. IX. More Relations of particular Facts, proving the Reality of Apparitions; with ſome juſt Obſervations on the Difference between the good and evil Spirits, from the Errand or Buſineſs they come about.

I MAKE no Remarks upon any of theſe Sto⯑ries; the preſent Buſineſs is to bring Exam⯑ples of ſuch Things, to prove the Reality of Ap⯑paritions in general: As to who, or what it is, that in ſuch caſes may appear, and why, and upon what Occaſions; that we ſhall ſpeak of hereafter.

I SHALL bring one Example now within my own Knowledge, and in which I had ſome Concern; [167] not but that other Accounts may be as au⯑thentick as this, tho' I cannot ſo poſitively vouch them at ſecond or third Hand. When I offer thoſe to you, therefore, I tell you honeſtly that I have ſuch and ſuch Relations from good Hands, or I have ſuch a Story by me in Manuſcript, and I leave you to make ſuch uſe of them as you pleaſe.

THIS Caution of mine, however, ought not to leſſen the Credit of any of the Relations here pub⯑liſh'd; for why may not the Account given by a⯑nother Hand be as true as this which I give you from my own Knowledge; and why muſt an Au⯑thor, in ſuch caſes as theſe, be made anſwer [...]ble for the Particulars of every Hiſtory, or be bound to leave it out, which would be the Reader's Loſs, not his own.

HOWEVER the following I can vouch from my own Knowledge. A. B. was a Merchant in Lon⯑don, and as he drove a conſiderable Trade beyond⯑ſea, he eſtabliſh'd a Factor, or as the Language of Trade calls it a HOUSE, at a certain Port in the Engliſh Colonies in America, and ſent over his Ser⯑vants or Apprentices thither, as is uſual for Mer⯑chants to do.

ONE of his ſaid Apprentices being fitted out, and ready to Embark, his Cargo being actua [...]ly on board the Ship, and the Ship fallen down the Ri⯑ver as far as Graveſend; his Maſter was getting his Letters and Invoyces, and other Diſpatches, ready for him, he being to go down the River the ſame Evening.

THE Hurry which thus diſpatching him put his Maſter into, occaſion'd, that when he was call'd to Dinner at the uſual Hour, he did not take the young Gentleman with him as uſual, but told him he muſt be content to ſtay in the Counting-houſe 'till he came to relieve him.

[168] ACCORDINGLY Dinner being over, he goes down to ſend him up to Dinner. And when he came to the Counting-houſe Door, there ſat his Man with the Book-keeper alſo, writing as he left him.

IT happen'd juſt that Moment, ſome occaſion extraordinary oblig'd him to ſtep back again, and go up Stairs to the Dining-Room, from whence he came; and intending not to ſtay, he did not ſpeak to the young Man, but left him in the Counting⯑houſe, and went immediately up Stairs.

IT was not poſſible that he, or any one elſe, ex⯑cept ſuch as could walk inviſible, could go by, or paſs him unſeen: Good Manners would have hinder'd the young Man from thruſting by his Maſter upon the Stairs, if he had been going up; but he is poſitive he did not, and cou'd not paſs, without being ſeen.

BUT when he came to the top of the Stairs there ſat the young Man at Dinner with the other Servants; the Room they din'd in being a little Parlour, which open'd juſt againſt the Stairs, ſo that he ſaw him all the way of the upper Part of the Stair-caſe, and could not be deceived.

THE Maſter did not ſpeak to him, which he was very ſorry for afterwards; but the Surprize made him paſs by the Room, and go into the Di⯑ning-Room, which was to the right Hand of it, but he ſent one immediately to look, and he was there really at Dinner; ſo that what he (the Ma⯑ſter) ſaw below in the Counting-houſe, muſt be the Apparition, as it certainly was.

BUT this was not all: The young Gentleman em⯑bark'd as above, and arriv'd ſafe with all his Effects in America, tho' he never liv'd to return. However, I cannot ſay his Apparition in the manner as related could have the leaſt Relation to his being ſick, and dying abroad, which was not 'till three [169] Years afterwards. But what follow'd was of another kind.

THIS young Man had an elder Brother, who liv'd in London; he was a fine Gentleman, and a Scholar, and was at that time ſtudying Phyſick. He was alſo a ſtout brave Gentleman, and in parti⯑cular underſtood a Sword, that is to ſay how to uſe a Sword, as well as moſt Gentlemen in England.

HE had an accidental Rencounter with a Gentle⯑man in the Street, in that ſhort Street which goes out of Fleet-ſtreet into Salisbury-Court; and being ſo compleat a Maſter of his Weapon, he wounded his Antagoniſt, and drove him into a Tavern in the Street, from whence came out two Men more up⯑on him with their Swords, but both of them found the Gentleman ſo much an Over-match for them, that they left him as faſt as the firſt; whereupon a fourth came out, not with a Sword, but a Fire⯑Fork taken haſtily up out of the Tavern Kitchen, and running at this Gentleman with it, knock'd him down, and broke his Skull, of which Wound he afterwards died.

WHILE this was done in London, his Brother, as far off as Boſton in New-England, writing to his Maſter the Merchant, (and who gives this Account of it) after other Buſineſs, writ this Poſtſcript.

NOW this Letter was ſo dated, that it was im⯑poſſible any Account could be ſent of the Diſaſter, that could reach thither in that time; for it was not dated above fourteen Days after the Fact was committed in London; and that it was Genuine I am well aſſur'd, becauſe I ſaw the Letter within an Hour after it was receiv'd in London, read it my ſelf, and knew the young Man's Hand, and the young Man alſo perfectly well, as I did his Brother that was kill'd alſo, very intimately.

THE young Man was ſober, religious and ſenſi⯑ble, not given to Whimſie, or light-headed Fancies, not vapouriſh or diſtemper'd, not apt to ſee double, or to dream waking, as many of our Apparition-making People are; he was beſides that a Scholar, and very ſerious: the firſt I mention as a Protection to him from fooliſh Imagination, and the laſt from Falſhood; and I am ſatisfy'd, the Reader may de⯑pend upon both the Stories, I mean as to the Truth of them.

IN my ſpeaking of Apparitions as I have ſtated the Caſe, I muſt take leave to differ from the No⯑tions of the Ancients, who 'tis evident underſtood all Apparition to be the Souls, or as we call them, the Ghoſts, of departed Perſons; but when they came to make rational Concluſions from thoſe firſt Opinions, What wild Additions were they driven to make, to the firſt juſt Conceptions which they had form'd in their Minds?

[171] THEIR firſt Conceptions, I ſay, were indeed juſt, conſiſtent with Reaſon, and with Nature; for they concluded, that when the Body is dead, and the Soul ſeparated, the State was determin'd. This Mr. Pope expreſſes very well in his Tranſlation of Homer,

THIS was, I ſay, a rational and juſt Sentiment; but then they were confounded in all thoſe Imagi⯑nations, by ſeeing the Apparitions of their departed Friends, as if come back from thoſe eternal Shades; and how to reconcile this they did not know.

TO get over this Difficulty, they were driven to ſtrange Shifts, and ſome of them it muſt be con⯑feſs'd were very fooliſh ones: ſuch as theſe;

1. THAT the Soul wandered about in the Air, 'till ſuch time as the Body obtain'd its due Funeral Rites: from this Notion, the Friends of the de [...]aſed were mightily concern'd to ſee the Funeral Pile erected for their departed Friends, and to have the Body honourably burn'd; then the Aſhes of the Bones were depoſited in an Urn, and that Urn bury'd in the Earth; when this was done the Soul was admit⯑ted to paſs the Flood, (that is) to be tranſported into the Elyſian Fields, from whence they never ſhould return any more; but in caſe theſe Rites were not perform'd for any Perſon, the Soul wander'd reſtleſs, and unfix'd, in a ſtate of Perplexity, for an hundred Years. Hence thoſe Lines in Virgil, Aeneid. vi.

NOW between this Time, or during this Inter⯑val, that is to ſay, between Death and the Funeral Pile, they pretended they allow'd the ſeparated or unembodied Souls of Men might appear, and viſit their Friends, or harraſs their Enemies; and on this Occaſion, the Ghoſt of Patroclus, ſlain by Hector at the Siege of Troy, is brought in viſiting his Friend Achilles, and begging of him to get his Funeral Rites perform'd, that he might be admitted to Reſt.

2. HOMER's Notion of the State of the Dead, was ſomething like the ancient Philoſophy of the Aegyptians, which gave the Soul a Shape like the Body, and that it was only a Receptacle of the Mind; the Mind they made to be the ſublime and ſuperior Part, and that only.

THUS in the Caſe of Apparitions, they allow'd that this Caſe or Shell call'd the Soul, might ap⯑pear after Death, but the Mind could not, but was exalted among the Gods, and took up its Eter⯑nal Abode; from whence

[173] THUS the Ghoſt of Patroclus, going with his Speech to Achilles, ſays thus,

THIS laſt Notion, tho' groſs and abſurd in it ſelf, was the utmoſt Refuge they had, by which to ſolve the Difficulty of Apparitions. They imagin'd that the Soul was not only ſeparated by Death from the Body, but that there was a Separation of the Underſtanding from its Caſe or Vehicle, as they call'd it; ſo that the Soul, which was but the I⯑mage and Form of the Body, might be in Hell; the Body it ſelf burnt to Aſhes remain'd in the Urn; and the Underſtanding or Mind, which was the ſublime divine Part, be in Heaven with the Gods: This Homer expreſſes thus,

AGAIN he explains it in his Odyſſey, lib. xi. line 600. ſpeaking in the Name of Ulyſſes,

HERE Homer fancies Hercules, that is the Mind, the ſublime Part of Hercules, was in Heaven, and ex⯑alted there to the higheſt Degree too;

[174] and yet at the ſame time his Soul, his [...] or Image, was in Hell. And Plutarch gives us the ſame Deſcription at large.

WHAT learned Nonſenſe, and what a great deal of it is here, to reconcile a thing, which upon the Chriſtian Foundation is made as eaſie, as any thing not immediately viſible to the common Eye, can be made?

NATURE dictated, and Reaſon confirm'd, that the firſt Principle, namely, the Soul, or as they call it, the Mind or Underſtanding, fled to Heaven immediately after Death, and return'd no more.

THUS Andromache mourning for the Loſs of her Husband Hector, is brought in ſpeaking according to the Doctrine of the Ancients:

THE Dead once paſs'd to the diſmal Realms (as they call'd the Shades below) were gone for ever, and to return no more; but then they were perplex'd to find that they did return, as in this Caſe of Patro⯑clus to Achilles; tho' that (by the way) was a Dream only, not an Apparition, or as we may call it an Apparition in a Dream, and no more.

BUT they had their Apparitions, and we read of many Apparitions of the Dead to the Living; as particularly in the famous Example of Caeſar ap⯑pearing to Brutus: and this perplex'd them ſo, that they knew not how to ſupport the Principle of the Soul not returning, under the Experience of Souls actually returning in Apparition, viſiting and con⯑verſing with their Friends, which was inconteſti⯑ble, daily Experience making it known to all Parties.

TO reconcile this they fled to Invention, and firſt to that of the Interval between the Death and [175] the Funeral of the departed Souls; of which be⯑fore.

BUT this is liable to ſo many juſt Exceptions, ſo many Abſurdities, that it could not ſatisfie Men of Senſe; for firſt they were obliged to ſay and prove, (which would be very difficult) that none of the Souls of the Dead ever appear'd after the Fune⯑ral Rites were ſolemnized; which if one Example had contradicted, all the Arguments in the World could not then have ſupported the Fiction; and this I cannot doubt was contradicted on many Oc⯑caſions.

AND this no doubt made the ancient Syſtem of the Aegyptians be reviv'd, and paſs better among them afterwards; tho' whether the Romans receiv'd it or no, we do not find aſcertain'd in any Part of their Hiſtory.

BESIDES, there was an Abſurdity in the very Doctrine it ſelf; for if the Apparition of a departed Soul was limited by this Circumſtance of burning the Body, or performing the Funeral Rites; it put the State of the Dead in that particular Reſpect into the Power of the Living: for Example, If the Living, who had Poſſeſſion of the dead Bodies of Perſons ſlain, ſuppoſe them Friends, had Poſſ [...]ſſion of the Body, the Soul of that Body, tho' unembodied and diſmiſs'd, could not be admitted to reſt, or as they expreſs'd it, could not paſs into the Shades or R [...]alms below; ſo if the Enemy had Poſſeſſion of the Body, it was in the Power of the Enemy to keep the Soul out of Heaven: an Abſurdity ſo groſs, one would think the wiſer Heathens could never enter⯑tain ſuch a Thought: Yet that ſuch it was, the Words of Patroclus's Ghoſt quoted from Homer makes evident.

[176] UNHAPPY Patroclus! How groſs would this ſound, how harſh and unmuſical in our Times, when Chriſtianity has given us more juſt Ideas of things? Patroclus could not get leave to go to the Shades below, 'till his Funeral Rites were per⯑form'd; that is, in our Senſe, could not be admitted, no not into Hell it ſelf, 'till his Body was burn'd on the Funeral Pile or Pyre, and his Aſhes depo⯑ſited in an Urn; that is, buried like a Gentleman.

BY which Rule, the Souls of thoſe poor Crea⯑tures who were killed in the Wars, and were left unburied in Heaps in the Field, or only a Pile of Stones thrown upon them, as was often the Caſe, are wandring ſtill, and neither admitted into Hea⯑ven or Hell.

AGAIN, it was in the Power of the Enemy, if he had a Body in Poſſeſſion, to preſerve his Hatred againſt that Enemy even beyond Death, and by keep⯑ing him unburied, keep his Soul or Spirit ſuſpended, wandring, and forgotten in the Air, and neither ad⯑mitted to one or other Place, whether above or below.

THUS Achilles had the Body of Hector in his Power twelve Days, and Homer brings him in triumphing over his Enemy in that caſe, and in a manner unworthy of a Man of Honour. When he ſpeaks to the Ghoſt of his Friend Patroclus, and vows to ſacrifice twelve Trojan Priſoners at his Fu⯑neral Pile; he adds,

[177] So again, Achilles mourning over the Body of Pa⯑troclus as it lay on the Funeral Pile, and the Fire not yet kindled; I ſay, there again he threatens to deny Hector a Soldier's Burial.

THIS was a terrible Curſe, and very cruel to poor Hector after he was dead, not to ſuffer his Soul to enter into the Shades below, which would be (to ſpeak it in our Language) not to give him leave to go to Hell; that the Gods it ſeems thwarted Achilles, and would not let his Cruelty take place, but he was oblig'd to grant Priam a Truce, and let the Trojans bury him.

SO that the Burying of Hector was made the Care of the Gods, defeating the cruel Vengeance of Achilles.

TO what Length did this fooliſh Notion of the Ancients carry this Point! putting it into the Power of a Man's Enemy to keep his Soul out of Heaven too, as long as his Enemy thought fit to keep the Body out of the Grave.

HAPPY it is for us in theſe malicious Days that it is otherwiſe here; when not Enemies only, but even cruel Creditors, might arreſt the dead Body of their Debtor, and even ſend the Soul of him to the Devil, or keep it hovering and wandring in the Air 'till their Debts were paid: As Times go now, and [178] as Charity ſtands now rated among us, no poor Debtor could be at Reſt any more after he was Dead, than he could before, 'till his Debts were all paid.

NAY, tho' it had pleas'd a merciful Father to forgive him his Sins, and as we allow it's poſſible, in ſpi [...]e of the cruel T—S—that a Brankrupt may die in the State of a pardoned Peni⯑tent; yet I ſay 'till the Debt was paid the more inexorable Creditor ſhould refuſe to let him be ad⯑mitted into Heaven 'till he was paid the utmoſt Farthing.

I MUST confeſs if this were the Caſe among us, I believe it would be the hardeſt thing in the World to get a poor Bankrupt's Compoſition ac⯑cepted, or his Certificate ſigned; for if it was in the Power of the Creditors to ſend their Debtors to the Devil, I ſhould be apt to ſay with the Di⯑ſciples of our Lord, Who then ſhall be ſaved?

HOW often do we find a Creditor give it for an Anſwer, when a ſolliciting Friend comes begging him to compound, and to accept the utmoſt Shil⯑ling that the Debtor has to offer: How often, I ſay, do we find the cruel Creditor reply, No not I, I'll ſign none of it, the Devil ſhall have him before I'll ſign it?

NAY, if his Soul was to hover in the Air, as the Ancients fancy'd, 'till the Body was buried; I queſtion whether they would let the Debtor go ei⯑ther to Heaven or Hell 'till they had their Money; eſpecially if the hovering or wandering in the Air was a worſe Condition, as I don't know but, while the Devils are ſaid to be there, it may.

BUT to return to the Ancients and their Noti⯑on of Futurity, and of Souls departed, the Diffi⯑culty, as I have obſerved, was very perplexing: They granted that after the Souls of Men were once determined, and tranſported in Charon's Ferry⯑boat to the other ſide of the River Styx, or the [179] Stygian Gulph, they could return no more; and all their other Fables upon that Subject would have been overthrown and come to nothing, if it had been otherwiſe; ſuch as Cerberus barking continual⯑ly at the Gate, Charon the Ferry-man carrying all over but bringing none back, and the like.

BUT notwithſtanding this, as I have ſaid, they found ſeveral of theſe Souls viſiting the World in Apparition, and this quite deſtroy'd all the Scheme of their being in a determin'd State; ſo that they knew not what to think of next.

HOW would it have unravell'd all thoſe hard Knots, and made every thing eaſie to their Under⯑ſtanding, had they been let into this juſt way of reaſoning? had they diſcover'd that there is an An⯑gelick World, an inviſible World of Spirits, ſome of whom being placed by their merciful Maker, as an advanc'd Body, at or near the out [...]r Circum⯑ference of the Earth's Atmoſphere, have a Power given them at leaſt to take Cognizance of human Affairs; and to converſe with this World, either by Apparition, Voices, Noiſes, good or bad Omens, or other ſenſible Conveyances to the Mind, by which they can give Notices of Good or Evil, and can intimate to Man many things uſeful to him in the Conduct of his Life.

THAT the Spirits inhabiting this inviſible World are at hand; (how near is not neceſſary to us to know) can aſſume Bodies, Shape, Voice, and even can perſonate this or that Man or Woman; ſo as to appear in the very Figure, Countenance, and Cloaths or Dreſs of our departed Friends, ſpeak with their proper and diſtinct Voices, and in the firſt Perſon of this or that particular Man or Wo⯑man, and in their Names; and can thus ſuit them⯑ſelves in their ſeveral Appearances, to the Occa⯑ſion they appear for:

[180] HAD they known theſe things, I ſay, they would have rejoic'd in the Diſcovery, and it would have made every thing eaſie to them. Patroclus would never have troubled Achilles with a Viſit from the Air, upon pretence of his being left to be wandring about the Atmoſphere for want of his Funeral Rites; the Dogs, or the Crows, or the Worms might have feaſted themſelves on Hector's Carcaſs, it would never have diſturb'd Hector in the leaſt, much leſs would her Goddeſs-ſhip Venus have concern'd herſelf to protect his Corps 'till the fu⯑neral Pile was prepar'd.

THE Doctrine of the Soul's being a Shell or Caſe form'd into a Shape, as a Mould is form'd into Shape to receive the Braſs or Copper, and throw out a Statue or Figure of this or that Heroe, which it is appointed to form; I ſay, this abſurd Doctrine of the Soul, Body and Mind being three diſtinct Perſons in every Man, would not have found Place in the World; but all things would have been conceiv'd regularly of, and the World would have been rightly inform'd of future things, as well as of things preſent.

HOWEVER, to bring it down to our Caſe, all this concurs to the Doctrine of Spirits, and the Reality of their Appearance, which is the Caſe be⯑fore us: Their Friends departed did appear; what it was appear'd they knew not, only negatively they knew it was not their Bodies, however the Shape might be aſſumed; nor could they reconcile that Part to their Underſtanding. How it could be, that the Body ſeem'd to appear and did not appear; or, as we might ſay, appear'd as if they had appear'd; but when a Tryal was offer'd, no Body could be found, as was the Caſe of Patro⯑clus and Achilles in Homer, which Mr. Pope thus tranſlates,

HOW groſs an Ignorance is here in ſo great a Man as Achilles? to go about to graſp a Viſion! to feel a Shade! One can hardly excuſe the Poet for allowing Achilles, who was the Heroe of the whole Poem, to be ſo weak, even in thoſe Days; but it muſt be allowed 'twas all in a Dream, and imagi⯑nary, and it might well awake him indeed, as it did, to graſp at a Man in Armour, and find nothing in his Arms but Smoke.

THE Reſult of it all is this, namely, the Re⯑ality of Apparition was a certain, undoubted, and received thing; 'tis evident that they were not queſtioned; for upon the Reality of the Appear⯑ance of Souls, all thoſe Pains were taken to ſettle the Poſſibility of it. That it was ſo, the Fre⯑quency of the thing left them no Room to que⯑ſtion; it would have been ri [...]iculous to have diſ⯑puted it; but how it could b [...], how to reconcile it to all the Notions of Soul and Body, the fu⯑ture and the preſent State, that was what no bo⯑dy could explain, and no body could underſtand; which Ignorance put their Invention ſo much on the Rack to find out and form Schemes for the bringing the Particulars together, and making the Appearance poſſible, whichthey daily found was in Fact real.

'TWAS a little ſtrange that tho' they were ſatisfied by daily Demonſtration that the Thing was true, yet they were obliged to believe it was not true at the ſame time. They frequently ſaw their Friends appear, and yet knew they were not in a Condition from whence they could return to appear. But the ſtrangeſt thing of all, at leaſt to [182] me, is, that they ſhould not, all this while, con⯑ceive the Poſſibility of Spirits aſſuming human Shape, and appearing in their Figures, in their Shapes, and in their Names.

THIS would have put an end to all the Dif⯑ficulty, and have reconciled all the Doubts that attended it, and at the ſame time would have led them into ſeveral ſublime Truths, ſuch as they were perhaps perfectly ignorant of; as particularly into the great Doctrine of the Unity of infinite Power; the univerſal Empire of Providence, and its Government and Influence of and upon all the Affairs of this World, even the moſt minute things in Life; and many other valuable Inquiries.

THAT Apparitions were believed to be real in thoſe Days, is evident from many Inſtances of it given in Hiſtory, tho' I have not room to look far back. 'Tis ſaid that Alexander the Great was haunted by the Ghoſt of his Friend Clitus, whom he had moſt un⯑gratefully tortur'd to Death, after a long Series of the moſt faithful Services, and ſucceſsful alſo; but there is no particular Account of it in Plutarch.

THE Apparition of the Ghoſt of Julius Caeſar to Brutus a little before the Battel at Philippi, tho' it be certain, is nevertheleſs variouſly reported; ſome Accounts relate it to be the Ghoſt of Julius Caeſar, and vulgar Opinion concurs with that Re⯑port; which is ſo receiv'd at this time, that they ſhow you an original antient Piece of fine Italian Painting at Naples, where the Phantome is repre⯑ſented bloody and wounded, with Caſca's Dagger ſticking in his Shoulder, which he, Caſca, reaching his Arm over his Shoulder fix'd in or near his Col⯑lar Bone before, and left ſticking there; according to which our Fronteſpiece to this Work is at leaſt deſign'd: Whether that Part of the Story be right repreſented or not, is difficult to determine.

[183] BUT according to other Accounts, the Appari⯑tion was only of a Man, without any Similitude of Caeſar; and that when Brutus, who was buſy writing Diſpatches for his Army which was then drawing together to fight the Octavian Troops, look'd up and ſaw him, he boldly ask'd, What art thou? and the Apparition anſwer'd, I am thy evil Genius, and I will meet thee again at Philippi; to which the undaunted Hero, unconcern'd at the Sight, and as if he deſir'd him not to diſturb him at that time, he being then otherwiſe engaged, anſwer'd, Well, I'll meet thee there, and ſo went on with his wri⯑ting.

BRUTUS was, without doubt, a Hero in his perſonal Valour, and more ſo in his Principle, viz. the Love of Liberty, and of his Country; and as nothing but the Zeal for the Liberty of his Coun⯑try could have embark'd him againſt the Life of Caeſar, who was otherwiſe his Benefactor, ſo he was above the Fear of Death, and could not be in the leaſt daunted at the Fore-knowledge of his Fate at Philippi; ſeeing he had the Notion of Life which was general at that time, namely, that a true He⯑roe could never be miſerable, ſince it was always in his Power to die a Freeman, and not to out-live any threatned Calamity, whether Perſonal or Na⯑tional.

UPON this foot he enter'd that unequal Battel againſt the Octavian Troops with an undaunted Chear⯑fulneſs; for he was ſure one way or other to come off victorious; that is to ſay, that if Auguſtus con⯑quer'd his Army, he knew how to conquer Auguſtus; if by the Slaughter of his Troops Caeſar had the better of him, and defeated his Deſigns for the Li⯑berty of his Country, He, by the Slaughter of him⯑ſelf, knew how to defeat Auguſtus in his Deſigns of conquering Brutus, ſince he reſolv'd to die free, and not ſurvive the Roman Liberty; and ſo he did.

[184] AND upon this Foundation it was, that he was ſo unconcerned at his approaching Fate, and ſo undaunted in his looking at and ſpeaking to the Spectre that appear'd to him.

BUT we have yet abundance more Proofs by Example of the Reality of Apparitions.

ALARICH the famous Gothick King, who o⯑ver-run ſo much of the Roman Empire, had an Ap⯑parition which came to him, and told him he ſhould undertake his Expedition againſt the Romans, and that promis'd him Victory and Succeſs; ſome ſaid it was an Angel, others that it was the Ghoſt of his deceaſed Predeceſſor Rhadagaiſeus. When he firſt undertook to raiſe his Army he was intending to go upon a glorious Expedition to the Eaſt, to wit, againſt the Hunns and the Heruli; that is to ſay, into Poland, Sclavonia and Hungaria, and per⯑haps Muſ [...]ovy or Ruſſia. But upon the Apparition ſpeaking to him, he was encourag'd to undertake a War againſt the [...]mans in Italy; where notwith⯑ſtanding he was routed and utterly overthrown by Stilico [...] he afterwards return'd into Italy, kill'd Stilico the Roman General, over-run the Country, and took and plunder'd the City of Rome it ſelf; this was Ann. 409: ſo that the Apparition, of what⯑ever kind it was, muſt be ſo far Angelic as to fore⯑know Events and Iſſues of things on Earth, which muſt be ſuitable to the Angelic Heavenly Spirits, and ſuperior to the Diabolic Spirits who know nothing Prophetic.

NOR is it any thing inconſiſtent with the An⯑gelic exalted and good Spirits; for this was not encouraging Evil, but ſtirring up a powerful Prince, who was to be Flagellum Dei, to exe⯑cute the Divine Vengeance upon that wicked Peo⯑ple the Romans, whom God had reſolved to deſtroy, or at leaſt to reduce very low [...] like as God is [185] ſaid to ſtir up Nebuchadnezzar King of Babylon to come up againſt Jeruſalem.

I SAY this could not be the Devil, be⯑cauſe (as I have always inſiſted upon it, ſo I do ſtill) that he knows nothing of what is to come; the Devil is no Prophet, he cannot foretell or predict, oth [...] than by probable Gueſſes, rational Conſe⯑quences, and ſuch Circumſtances in which he can go farther than other People.

YOU have an Example of this in the famous Sorcereſs Jaquelina; ſhe pretended to ſpeak in the Name of the Devil, and ſometimes to have the Devil ſpeak in her, and ſo to give Anſwers as by an Oracle, and reſolve Doubts and difficult Queſtions, which ſhe did to Admiration; and thereby got both Fame and Money. Now it was obſerv'd that when People came to her with Doubts and difficult Caſes, even ſuch as none could reſolve, relating to things paſt or preſent, her Anſwers were ſurprizing; but if they came to her to ask any Opinion of things future, and what ſhould be to come, the Devil was always Nonpluſt, and generally lyed in his Anſwers; ſo that none [...]ould depend upon any thing he ſaid. In a word the Devil was not able to foretell any thing; and hence I infer, as I havealways ſaid, the Devil is no Prophet, he can predict nothing, for he knows nothing; and that if any Apparition comes to be ſeen or heard, who takes upon it to tell what ſhould come to paſs, you may depend upon it that Apparition is not from the Devil.

HENCE I think we may readily account for that Story ſo well publiſh'd, whether ſo well known or no, of which Mr. Aubrey has given us the laſt Relation, as follows:

I DO not enter into an Enquiry here whether the Story is true or no, I believe it in Common, for it was generally believ'd to be true: But 'tis ſtrange to have this brought for an Evidence of the Pre⯑ſcience of the Devil; whereas on the contrary it con⯑firms what I have ſaid, viz. That this cou'd not be the Devil, or what we call the Appearance of the Devil, [187] no, nor could it be the Soul of the departed Perſon; and for the Apparition ſaying it could not be at Reſt, either it may be put in by ſome of the very many Authors relating the Story; or it might be ſaid by the good Angel or Spirit appearing, to in⯑troduce her Meſſage, and to rouze the Mind of the Perſon ſpoken to by ſomething that ſhould touch her more to the quick, be the more feeling, and ſenſible to her, and ſo make a due Impreſſion upon her of the Truth of that which was to follow.

BUT firſt, for its not being the Devil; for I have granted that the Devil may make an Appari⯑tion, tho' far from inferring from thence that all Apparitions are the Devil: But I ſay as to its not being the Devil that appear'd here, in the Shape of the deceas'd Lady, 'tis Evident,

FIRST, Becauſe, as I ſaid above, and have re⯑peated often, the Devil cannot predict, he has no Preſcience of things before they are in View; he can juggle and play ſcurvy Tricks of many kinds, as when he propheſied to the Farmer the Fall of his Stack of Corn, and then rais'd a ſudden Storm and blew it down. It may be he can ſee at ſome farther Diſtance than we can, and judge of the Conſe⯑quences of ſuch and ſuch Cauſes better than we can, and with a more perfect and exact Judgment. But to predict things which are only conceal'd in the Womb of Time, and behind the Curtain of Providence, as this of Life and Death was, it is not in Satan to do it; and therefore this could not be from the Devil: the Lady was in Health, was Chearful, nay Merry, was at a Feaſt and at Cards. Here was no Signal of Death, or ſo much as of Sickneſs: I ſee no token of the Devil in this Ap⯑parition; except it be his extraordinary Civility that he would not interrupt her Game.

SECONDLY, It could not be the Devil, becauſe of his bidding the Lady prepare for Death; [188] which, as I have often obſerv'd, does not ſeem to be much of Satan's Buſineſs, not being very ſuitable to his Diſpoſition, and leſs to his Deſign.

THERE is ſome little Incongruity in this Story too, which renders it inconſiſtent, not with the De⯑vil only, but even with the Nature of a Spirit or Apparition: As (1) Why ſhould the Apparition come when the Lady was engag'd and could not ſpeak to her? as if ſhe, being a Ghoſt or Spirit as we vulgarly expreſs it, did not know what ſhe was doing, as well as where ſhe was? (2) How does her taking ill the living Lady's not viſiting her, ob⯑lige her to come and give her this kind Notice of her Death? I took it ſo ill at your Hands, that I could not reſt 'till I had ſeen you.

THO' this does not ſhock my Belief of the Apparition it ſelf; yet it ſeems to hint that the ſeveral Hands thro' which the Relation has paſs'd, have made up the Speech for the Ghoſt, and com⯑mitted ſome Blunders in it, that are inde [...]d ſhocking to the Reader.

IT ſeems more rational to be as I have read the Story, that the Ghoſt ſhould ſay thus: Tho' I took it very ill at your Hands that you wou'd not come to ſee me; yet I could not reſt 'till I had ſeen you, to tell you that you have not long to live, and that you ſhould prepare, &c. This is much better Senſe, and more agreeable to the Nature of the thing; for certainly coming in that manner to give the Lady No [...]ice of the Approach of her End, and to coun⯑ſel her to prepare accordingly, muſt be allow'd to be an act of Kindneſs, not of Reſentment, and a T [...] ⯑ſtimony of the Affection that was between them; and therefore her taking it ill that ſhe had not been to Viſit her in her Illneſs, could not rationally be given as a Reaſon for it.

BUT as to the Apparition it ſelf, ſince it could not be the Soul of the deceas'd Lady, and for the [189] Reaſons above was not likely to be the Devil, or I may venture to ſay poſitively was not the Devil; What then was it? I anſwer with a Queſtion: What could it be but a good Angel, or Angelic Spirit from the Inviſible World, ſent with a Meſ⯑ſage of Goodneſs, and a merciful Notice of her Approaching Death; that ſhe might receive a due caution, preparing her Mind and turning her Thoughts to a proper Meditation upon ſo ſerious a Subject; in a word, warning her of Death that ſhe might prepare for it?

THE Story of Sir John Burroughs's Son, who forſaking a Miſtreſs in Italy ſhe murther'd her ſelf, and then haunted him as long as he liv'd, this is of like kind with the reſt; and tho' the Devil to worry and perplex him might take up the Appea⯑rance of his Whore, as well reproaching him with the Crime, as with her Tragical End; yet it goes no farther than this, that the Devil may appear, and may harraſs and terrify thoſe he appear'd to, and this I make no doubt of; and it rather adds to what is inſiſted on, I mean the Reality of Appari⯑tions; but the Devil gave this Gentleman no good advice to repent, or prepare, and the like; but only appear'd, frighted, and terrify'd him to the very Day of his Death.

IT is alſo remarkable, that tho' this Devil in Apparition ſhewed it ſelf to him the very Day of his Death, (for he was kil [...]'d that Day in a Duel) yet it ſaid not a word to him of what was to befall him, or of what he was going to do, and 'tis very probable did not know it.

THERE is another Story ſomething but darkly recorded of Charles VII. of France, which ſeems likely enough to be an Apparition of the Devil. That King had been diſtemper'd and very ill two or three times, but was recover'd again tolerably well, and was riding for the Benefit of the Air in the [190] Foreſt of Mans: On a ſudden a Spectre ſtarts up or out of the Woods, being a tall meagre ill-look'd old Man, of ghaſtly Countenance and half naked, and coming directly to the King takes hold of his Horſe's Bridle, and ſays, Stop, King: Whether go you? you are betray'd: and then immediateiy vaniſhed. Now firſt of all, this was a falſhood in Fact, for the King was not betray'd by any body; neither was there any Plot againſt him, or againſt any that belong'd to him, ever heard of before, or after⯑wards; on the contrary, Secondly, his Reign was at that time peaceable and quiet, his Subjects all eaſy; and for his Perſon, he had ſo few Enemies that he was call'd Charles the Beloved, and was exceed⯑ingly tendred by the generality of his People.

A GOOD Spirit, an Angelic Spirit, one of the Sacred Guard I have ſuppos'd to be placed about this Earth, or in the Regions adjacent, and em⯑ployed by their Bountiful Maker for the good of Mankind, would never have come in ſuch a man⯑ner, ſurpriſing, and at unawares. It would never have put on a fierce and frightful Countenance, thus to have terrified a poor diſtemper'd Prince, whoſe Brain was already diſorder'd; taking the ad⯑vantage of his Weakneſs, and ſo to encreaſe the Frenzy and Diſtraction of his Mind even to his Deſtruction, for he never more perfectly recover'd his Senſes.

THIS mightily differ'd from the Conduct of the ſeveral Spirits appearing in the Examples mention'd before, and who kindly warn'd the Perſons of Dan⯑ger, foretold Events that they might avoid them, or prepare for the Conſequences; in a word, this was an Apparition purely Deviliſh, for it was meerly to do Evil, and to the ruin of the Perſon to whom it appear'd.

I THINK nothing can be a juſter Rule for us to diſtinguiſh Apparitions by: the Evil Spirit, Devil [191] like, comes to deceive, he is the Father of Lyes; and comes to do hurt, he is a Lover and the Au⯑thor of Miſchief. The good Spirit is from God, the Fountain of all Good, and appears always for good and merciful Purpoſes; and this I think is a juſt Obſervation, and a Rule for us to judge of the Na⯑ture of whatever Apparitions we hear of.

CHAP. X. Of the different Nature of Apparitions; how we ſhould behave to them; when to be afraid of or concern'd about them, and when not.

DANGER may be the Reaſon of Caution; but Guilt only is the reaſon of Fear. Caution is the Mind's juſt Regard to the Evil in view; but Fear is a Horror of the Soul, in apprehenſion of ſome farther Evil yet out of view; unſeen, and therefore terrible; merited, and therefore dreadful.

IF there were no Guilt in the Mind, Death it ſelf would be no Evil, and therefore not the Sub⯑ject of our Fear; nor is Death it ſelf our Fear now as it is in it ſelf a meer paſſing out of life, otherwiſe than as it is an inlet of ſome terrible State beyond it [...] It is not what we paſs out of, that is the bitterneſs, but what we paſs into; not what we part with, but what the Exchange will be; not the leap out of Light, but the leap into the Dark: and to come nearer to it, the Thought of what is beyond Death is only made better or worſe by what we know on this ſide of it; the Dread of what is to come, is founded on our conſcious ſenſe of what is paſt.

THIS State beyond Death is made our Terror, as we expect in it the Puniſhment of Offences, a [192] Retrbitution for an ill-ſpent Life, and as we have upon our Minds a Senſe of Guilt; that is to ſay, a Conſcience of having ill-ſpent our paſt time, and dreading the Juſtice of the Superior Hand, in whom is the Power of Rewards and Puniſhments. Now to bring it to the caſe in Hand.

ALL Apparition is look'd upon as a ſomething coming, or ſent to us, from that State of Beingwhich is beyond Death, and therefore is look'd upon with the ſame Terror and Fright, which we are ſeiz'd with at the Thoughts of Death it ſelf.

HENCE, if we could conſider calmly the Nature of the Apparition which we ſ [...]e, we might pre⯑ſently know whether we ha [...] reaſon to be terrified at the Apparition, yea or no: If the Apparition comes with a Meſſage of Peace, if it reprehends with Kindneſs and Tenderneſs, if it admoniſhes with Gen⯑tleneſs, and gives Advice to amend and reform, it certainly comes from a good Hand, and we need be under no concern at all about it, becauſe it has no Evil in it ſelf.

IF it come in all its threatning Poſtures, ghaſtly as the Devil can make it, horrible as himſelf in Per⯑ſon; yet were there no Guilt there would be no fear from the Apparition, or even from the Devil ap⯑pearing in Perſon; becauſe we ſhould know our⯑ſelves to be out of his Power.

AS then the Good or Evil of the Meſſage, which the Apparition brings, diſtinguiſhes the Ap⯑parition it ſelf, and tells us of what kind it is; ſo as our Minds are, or are not intimidated by our own Guilt, ſo we have or have not reaſon to be ſur⯑priz'd at the Appearance of a Meſſenger, or Meſſen⯑gers, from the inviſible World, or at whatever he [...]hall ſay.

[193] MR. Aubery gives us the Story in his Miſcellanea of the Apparition to Caſhio Burroughs, Eſq; in the time of King Charles I, and which I hinted at juſt now on another occaſion; the Story is as follows:

THE Appearance of this Devil, for I can call it no other, had nothing in View but to harraſs, plague and affright the Gentleman: Perhaps ex⯑pecting it ſhould bring him into ſome fit of Deſpe⯑ration; ſo to deſtroy himſelf, as the Woman who appear'd had done before.

THE Gentleman whom it appear'd to, was con⯑ſcious of Crime; the Woman in whoſe ſhape the Devil thus harraſs'd him was a Courteſan, that is in Engliſh a Common Woman, with whom he had had an Intrigue in Italy: He had not only been diſhoneſt with her, but it ſeems had been diſhoneſt to her; and the laſt, with the aſſiſtance of the Devil, had it ſeems work'd ſo upon her Rage as to cauſe her to be her own Executioner; and I take the Apparition to be the Devil purſuing the ſame Management, and endeavouring to produce the ſame Effect upon him.

NOW ſee the Conſequence of Crime: the ſenſe of Guilt makes this Apparition dreadful to him; when it appear'd, he trembles, falls into Convul⯑ſions, cries out, O GOD! here ſhe comes! and in a word, is in an Agony of horror and affright.

HAD he only convers'd with the Lady as a com⯑mon Acquaintance, had he neither been concern'd with her, or had done any diſhonourable thing by her, he had natural Courage to have look'd the Devil in the Face, and boldly have ask'd what bu⯑ſineſs ſhe could have with him.

I HAVE read of a Story of a very religious La⯑dy, who the Devil, it ſeems, had ſome particular Picque at, and ſet all his Stratagems at work to ruin her, both Soul and Body. He attack'd her in a hundred ſeveral ways in Covert, as I may call it, [195] that is to ſay by Attempts to draw her into Crime, alluring her, and laying Snares for her of ſeveral kinds. But when he found himſelf ſteadily reſiſted by the Lady's reſolv'd Virtue, Modeſty and Tem⯑perance, he attack'd her in Perſon with frightful Apparitions, aſſuming ugly and terrible Shapes; and once appearing all in Fire, with a frightful threat⯑ning Voice, he told her he was come to fetch her away: The Lady had a ſecret Spirit of Courage and Reſolution came upon her at the very Moment, and, as we ſay in other caſes, brisking up to him as if ſhe would fight him: Reſiſt the Devil, ſays ſhe, and he ſhall flee from us! come for me! added ſhe, I'll venture that! for I am ſure thou lieſt, Sa⯑tan, thou haſt nothing to do with me.

THE Devil call'd her Whore, and told her ſhe lov'd ſuch a Man, who was a marry'd Man, and therefore ſhe had intentionally committed Whore⯑dom with him, and ſhould be damn'd.

N. B. It ſeems the Lady had lov'd that Gentleman before he was otherwiſe engag'd, by marrying; but had never had any Thought towards him, or the leaſt Acquaintance with him, afterwards.

THOU ſhoweſt thyſelf, ſays ſhe, to be full of Subtilty, a real Devil, and even Malice itſelf: it is true, I did love that Gentleman, ſays ſhe, and thou ſettedſt him to work to perſuade me that he lov'd me, and to court me with honourable Pretenſions, and ſo far gain'd upon me, that I really loved him; but—

HERE he interrupted her, and told her, Such a time, ſays the Devil, you wiſh'd you were a-bed with him, and you are as guilty by wiſhing to Sin, as if you had done it.

THOU art the Father of Lies, Satan, ſays ſhe, and the Father of Lyars, and thou lieſt in this; nay, thou lieſt like a Devil, that is maliciouſly, for thou knoweſt that it is not true.

[196] YOU will be damn'd, ſays he, and I will take you away this minute.

THOU canſt not take me away without God's Permiſſion, ſays ſhe, and he will not give me into thy Hands; therefore touch me at this Peril: and with that ſhe fell down on her Knees, and cry'd, LORD, preſerve me from the evil Spirit: with which the Devil left her, and walk'd off.

THESE are Apparitions that may be call'd Ap⯑paritions of Devils indeed, and by his Works you may know him, for this is acting like himſelf; but where there is no Guilt we need not be afraid of the Devil, in whatever Shape or frightful Figure he thinks to attack us in.

THIS Lady had never been able to reproach Satan with Lying, if what he ſaid had been true; but ſhe knew herſelf innocent, and that put Courage into her Soul, that ſhe indeed Bully'd the Devil, defy'd him, and bad him do his worſt.

IT ſeems the Devil rumag'd hard to find a Crime out to charge this Lady with, and came up to her very cloſe; but he was put to his ſhifts for Evidence; for even in collecting all the Actions of her Life, he could not find any thing of real Guilt to load her with.

HE attack'd her after this in ſeveral Shapes, and one time he told her ſhe wou'd be damn'd for a Hypocrite; for, ſays he, for all your pretended Sanctity you was in a violent Paſſion at ſuch a time, and you curſt your Couſin—naming her Name to her.

SHE anſwer'd, as before, boldly; And Satan. ſays ſhe, tho' you are a Devil, and cannot be aſham'd, yet you are too cunning and too knowing to act like a Fool; I was angry, but in no Paſſion; and for my Anger I had juſt cauſe; but thou waſt the cauſe of the Crime, and ſo of the Anger too: For ſhe own'd the Devil tempted my Kinſwoman to rob [197] me, ſo thou haſt been the Occaſion both of her Sin, and of my Anger.

BUT you curs'd her, and wiſh'd the Devil (mean⯑ing me, ſays he) might take her.

THAT'S like thee again, Devil, ſays the Lady; I was far from wiſhing thou ſhouldſt take her, I am not ſo much thy Friend to wiſh thou ſhouldſt be gra⯑tified in any one's Ruin. But I told her, indeed, if ſhe did ſuch things, thou wouldſt take her a⯑way.

BUT you ly'd in that, ſays he, for I won't hurt her.

I AM ſorry, ſays ſhe, thou art ſo much her Friend.

SHE is mine already, adds the Devil, I ſhall not do her any harm.

VERY well, Devil, ſays ſhe; then I hope I am out of your Liſt, or why elſe are you raging at me?

YES, yes, ſays he, you ſhall be mine quickly, as well as ſhe.

I DEFY thee, ſays ſhe again, and I'll tell the poor Girl what you ſay of her. I hope ſhe will get out of your Hands again.

THEN I'll break her Neck that Minute, ſays he.

THAT'S not in your Power, ſays the Lady.

WELL, but, ſays he, you play'd at Cards on Sunday Morning laſt.

SHE was a little ſurpriz'd at the Charge, and ſtop'd a-while; but recovering her Courage, 'Tis ſtrange, Devil, ſays ſhe, thou canſt bring nothing but Lyes againſt me; why I have Faults enough, that are real Faults, and true, and that I could not deny. Why I think Satan's turn'd Fool, adds ſhe, as if ſhe jeer'd him. Why don't you fall upon me in thoſe Things I am guilty of? and not make Lyes [198] for the ſake of lying? I did play at Cards a Sa⯑turday Night, but not a Sunday Morning.

BUT, ſaid he, you play'd at Cards againſt your Conſcience too, when you believ'd it was a Sin to play, and you will be damn'd for that.

WHY truly, Devil, ſays ſhe, you go neareſt the Truth in this of any thing you have ſaid; for after our Miniſter's talking againſt Play, one Evening, he ſo far perſuaded me that it was not lawful, that I did reſolve to leave it off.

BUT you broke your Word, and play'd again; and did it, I tell you, againſt your Conſcience.

I DID not tie myſelf by any Promiſe, but I did queſtion a little, indeed, whether I ſhould play a⯑ny more or no.

YES, and did it againſt your Conſcience, I tell you, and you ſhall be damn'd for that.

HERE the Lady could not refrain Tears; but ſtill ſhe anſwer'd the Devil boldly: As thou art a Lyar, Satan, I hope I ſhall not, becauſe thou ſayeſt I ſhall. However, thou ſhalt never have it to up⯑braid me with again; for tho' I did not pro⯑miſe to Man, I now promiſe it to the Devil, I will never play more.

IT'S too late now, ſays he, and threatned her again.

NO, Satan, ſays ſhe, never too late for any one to Repent, but Thee; and thou ſhalt never Repent, or be Forgiven.

WITH this, ſays my Story, the Devil left her. I have taken this, by Abridgement, from a very large Account of the ſeveral Diſputes this coura⯑geous Lady had with the Devil for ſome Years; which if I could aſſert the Particulars ſo as to be ſure of the Truth of every Part, and of my own Knowledge too, I ſhould make farther uſe of here; but thus far they are to the preſent Occaſion, namely,

[199] 1. THAT where the Devil appears, he always does it like a Devil, for ſome wicked Purpoſe or other.

2. WHERE he cannot prevail and excite to do Miſchief, he aſſaults with Rage, and threatens with ſuffering Miſchief.

THE good Spirits or good Angels are quite of another Kind; and as they come, or are ſent from other Hands, ſo they come of other Errands and in another manner, as I ſhall give a more parti⯑cular Account of preſently.

BUT let us from hence enquire into an Opini⯑on which I have met with, and that of ſome Men of Learning and Judgment, viz. That take the Apparitions in general, whether of good or bad Spirits, they never, or very rarely, do any harm. As for the good Spirits, we know, as above, they will do none; and if the bad do not, 'tis be⯑cauſe they can't.

THE good Spirits, 'tis certain, will do no harm; it is by their general appearing for good, that we determine them to be good Spirits; and that kind of Judgment is certainly very juſt: but if the evil Spirits, which do appear, do no harm neither, it is becauſe they are under ſome extraor⯑dinary reſtraint of Divine Power; ſo that tho' they may come about in the Air, they are not ſuffer'd to do any conſiderable Miſchief in the World. In both which caſes all the Occaſion of our Terror about them is taken away; for whether they are good Spirits, or evil Spirits reſtrain'd, 'tis much the ſame; one will do you no hurt, and the other cannot; and there remains no room then for the Pannick, which is ſo much upon us, when we hear of them.

IT is true that Angels have ſometimes been ſent in Judgment from Heaven, and have execu⯑ted God's terrible Threatnings upon Men in an [200] apparent Shape; as the Angel call'd the Deſtroy⯑ing Angel, which David ſaw in the Air, with his Sword drawn and ſtretch'd over Jeruſalem to de⯑ſtroy it, 1 Chron. xxi. 15. So the Angel of the Lord that ſlew 180000 of the Aſſyrians in one Night; and it is not improbable that an Hoſt of Angels or Apparitions appear'd in the Aſſyrian Camp, and cut in Pieces the Aſſyrian Army, with a Terror that they were not able to reſiſt.

THESE are extraordinary and miraculous Caſes; ſo likewiſe is that when the Angel appeared to Balaam with a flaming Sword, and told him that if the Aſs had not turn'd away from him, he (the Angel) had ſlain him, Numb. xxii. 33. But we are not now ſpeaking of Angels ſent out with eſpecial Commiſſions to execute God's Vengeance, but of the Apparition of good Spirits or Angels from the inviſible World of Spirits, who frequent⯑ly appear, and ſometimes upon ſmall and very tri⯑fling Occaſions, and who viſit People as well by Night as by Day; this we call Walking, and Ap⯑parition, and this is ſuch as is the Subject of our preſent Enquiry.

OF theſe it is that I ſay, however they may diſturb us, and however terrified we are about them, they very rarely do any harm.

I HAVE heard of an Apparition which came to a Farmer in Surry, and threatned him that he would burn his Houſe and his Barn, and all his Corn and Hay; what his Pretences were the Story does not relate, or what the poor Farmer had done to diſoblige him; but the Man was, it ſeems, in the utmoſt Conſternation, and expoſtulated with the Apparition a great while; but at laſt he pluck'd up his Spirits, and ſpoke with a little more Courage to it.

WHAT art thou, ſays he, that threatneſt me thus without a cauſe, and ſayeſt thou wilt ruin me, [201] notwithſtanding I never did thee any wrong? thou ſhouldſt be the Devil, by thy uſage of me, for good Spirits never do any Injuſtice.

TO this the Devil anſwer'd in a long, and to appearance, a threatning Speech, but in a Language the poor Man did not underſtand one Word of.

I KNOW not what thou ſayeſt, ſays the Farmer, but I tell thee again thou ſeem'ſt to me to be the Devil, or one of his Angels, and I ſuppoſe thoſe are Words underſtood in the bottomleſs Pit; but [...]hreaten me no more with thy Rage, and with burning my Houſe and Corn; thou art a great Dra⯑gon indeed, but thou art chain'd, and canſt do no⯑thing but what thou art permitted to do by thy Maker, and I fear thee not. Upon which the poor Man pray'd Mentally that he might be deliver'd from the Power of the Devil, and away run the Spectre, and did him no harm.

THIS was certainly a commendable Courage, and had ſomething of the Chriſtian in it too; and ſuch a Courage, and upon the like Foundation, would, for ought I know, lay all the Devils that ever walk'd, and drive away all the Apparitions and Spirits that People are ſo terribly haunted with, and ſo terrify'd about.

CHAP. XI. Of Apparitions in Dream, and how far they are or are not real Apparitions.

THERE may be Dreams without Apparition, as there may be Apparitions without Dreams; but Apparition in Dream may be as really an Apparition as if the Perſon who ſaw it was awake: The difference may be here, that the Apparition [202] in a Dream is viſible to the Soul only, for the Soul never ſleeps; and an Apparition to the Eye⯑ſight is viſible in common Perſpective.

HOW is it then that we ſee in our Dreams the very Faces and Dreſs of the Perſon we dream of; nay, hear their Voices, and receive due Impreſſions from what they ſay, and oftentimes ſpeak to them with our own Voices articulately and audibly, tho' we are faſt aſleep? What ſecret Power of the Imagi⯑nation is able to repreſent the Image of any Per⯑ſon to itſelf, if there was not ſome Appearance, ſomething plac'd in the Soul's view, by a ſecret, but inviſible Hand, and in an imperceptible man⯑ner? which Something is in all Reſpects, and to all Purpoſes, as compleatly an Apparition, as if it was plac'd in open ſight when the Perſon was awake.

THE Scripture confirms this Opinion by many Expreſſions directly to the purpoſe, and particu⯑larly this of Appearing, or Apparition in Dream. Gen. xx. 3. God came to Abimelech in a Dream; had it been ſaid that Abimelech dream'd that God came to him, there might have been ſome excep⯑tion to the Parallel; but God actually came to him: and what tho' Abimelech was aſleep, and in a Dream, it was not the leſs an Apparition, for God came to him, and ſpoke, and ſaid to him: and in the 4th Verſe Abimelech ſpoke to the Apparition. What⯑ever the Shape was, that the Text does not men⯑tion; but Abimelech knew who he talk'd with too, that's evident, for the Text mentions it fully, And he ſaid, LORD, wilt thou ſlay alſo a righteous Nation? and ſo he goes on, Verſe the fifth, to expoſtulate and plead for himſelf and his People, ſaid he not unto me, ſhe is my Siſter? ſo that he knew he was ſpeaking to the Lord. The Text is very remarkable, it is plain that there was an Ap⯑parition, but the Man was aſleep and in a Dream.

[203] AGAIN in the caſe of Laban purſuing Jacob, Gen. xxxi. 24. God came to Laban the Syrian in a Dream by Night, and ſaid unto him. Here again is an Apparition, and a ſpeaking Apparition too; GOD came to him, and GOD ſpoke to him; and Laban owns, not that he dream'd of God's appearing, but that God really ſpoke to him, v. 29. The God of your Father ſpake to me Yeſter-night, ſaying.

CERTAINLY Dreams in thoſe Days were ano⯑ther kind of thing than they are now. God ſpoke to them, and they anſwer'd; and when they were awake they knew that it was God that ſpoke, and gave heed to the Viſion or Apparition of God to them.

THERE are many more Inſtances of the like in the ſacred Hiſtory; as firſt in the remarkable caſe of King Solomon, 1 Kings iii. 5. The Lord appeared to Solomon in a Dream by Night, and GOD ſaid, ask what I ſhall give th [...]e.

THIS is call'd in the Scripture a Dream, v. 15. and Solomon awoke, and behold it was a Dream; and yet it is all confirmed; and the Petition that So⯑lomon made, tho' in his Sleep, or Dream, is ac⯑cepted and anſwer'd as his real Act and Deed, as if he had been awake. A good hint, by the way, that we may both pleaſe and offend in our Dreams, as really as if we were awake; but that is a hint, I ſay, by itſelf.

THAT Paſſage of Solomon is very remarkable to the caſe in hand. If my Readers pleaſe to believe that there was ſuch a Man as Solomon, and that he had ſuch a Dream; they muſt allow alſo that it was a real Apparition, God appeared to him in a Dream.

TO bring it down a ſtep lower: as God has thus Perſonally appeared to Men in Dreams, ſo have inferior Spirits, and we have Examples of this too in the Scripture. Matt. i. 20. While he thought on [204] theſe Things, behold the Angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a DREAM: and again, Matt. ii. 13. Behold the Angel of the Lord appeared unto Joſeph in a Dream, ſaying: and a third time 'tis repeated, the Angel came again to him in Aegypt, v. 19. of the ſame Chapter; when Herod was dead, Behold an Angel of the Lord appeareth in a Dream to Joſeph in Aegypt.

I WILL for once ſuppoſe, that no Man need de⯑ſire any farther Evidence than theſe for the Reality of the thing it ſelf; we may bring it down from hence by juſt Parallels to Matters within our own Reach, Experience will furniſh us with particular Paſſages ſufficient; and ſome Account I ſhall give you within the Compaſs of our own Times; in which if I do as much as poſſible, as I have done all along, omit all thoſe Accounts which others have publiſh'd, re⯑fering you to thoſe Publications for the particulars, and only give you new and more modern Accounts, ſuch as come within the Verge of my own Know⯑ledge, or of the Knowledge of ſuch as I have good Reaſon to give Credit to; I believe the Variety will be as acceptable, and much more uſeful than a bare Repeating of what others have ſaid. If I find it needful to quote what others have publiſh'd, you ſhall have it juſtly mark'd as a Quotation, that you may ſearch for the Truth in its Original.

BUT before I come to Quotation, or to Col⯑lection of Story, 'tis needful to obſerve here alſo, that as it has pleas'd God to appear in this Man⯑ner, and to cauſe Angels to appear alſo in the ſame Manner, and upon ſpecial Occaſions, ſo I make no Queſtion but the Devil often appears in Dreams too; and I might give but too many Examples of it, as particularly one in the Scripture.

IT is apparent that God gave Satan a kind of general Licenſe to a [...]flict Job, only not to kill him; with ſuch a terrible Commiſſion it might be expected [205] the Devil would fall upon him with the ut⯑moſt Fury he was capable of, or at leaſt that he was allow'd to take; he ruin'd his Fortunes, reduc'd him to Miſery, murther'd his Children, tormented him with Boils and Sores; in ſhort, left him no⯑thing but Potſherds, and an ill Wife to relieve him; and as he had worry'd him, to uſe a modern Phraſe, within an Inch of his Life, he follow'd him in the Night with Apparition, leſt he ſhould recruit Na⯑ture with Reſt, and be a little refreſh'd with Sleep. Job himſelf complains of it, Job vii. 14. Thou ſcareſt me with DREAMS, and terrifieſt me with VISIONS. Not that GOD appear'd to Job in any frightful or terrible Form; but the Devil, to whom God was pleas'd to give a Liberty of afflicting Job, took that Liberty, and exerted his Malice to the utmoſt in ſuch [...] Manner. We are not indeed told what M [...]hods the Devil took to ſcare and terrifie that poor diſtreſs'd Sufferer; but as he can ſhow us no⯑thing uglier, and more frightful than himſelf, ſo it is very likely he appear'd to him in Perſon, and that in the moſt ſurprizing Manner poſſible, with all the Circumſtances of Horror that he was able.

'TIS thought by ſome, who critically note tha [...] Part of the Text where Pilate's Wife warn'd her Husband to have nothing to do in condemning Chriſt to be crucified, that it was the Devil that ſtirr'd her up to oppoſe it. Satan, as ſoon as he perceiv'd that the Death of Chriſt, however inten⯑ded for Miſchief by the Jews, and purſued violently by them in their Rage and Malice at our Lord per⯑ſonally, was yet a thing appointed by the determi⯑nate Council of God, for the Salvation of Man⯑kind: I ſay, as ſoon as he perceiv'd that Part, which 'tis probable he did not know before, he ſtrove all he could to prevent it; and as fierce as he had been to irritate the Jews before, and raiſe their [206] Fury and Malice up to a Pitch, even to almoſt rab⯑balling the Governor into it; now he under-hand ſtrove to prevent it, and us'd this Stratagem among others by attacking Pilate's Wife in the Night, and ſetting her to perſuade her Husband, that he was going to deliver up an innocent Perſon to gratifie the Jews; and that he ſhould have a care what he did. Matt. xxvii. 19. When he was ſet down on the Judg⯑ment-ſeat, his Wife ſent unto him, ſaying, Have thou nothing to do with that juſt Man: For I have ſuffer'd many things this Day in a Dream, becauſe of him.

WHETHER it was ſo or not, 'tis very probable the many things ſhe ſuffer'd muſt be from the Devil; becauſe Heaven, by whoſe determinate Council and Fore-knowledge the Death of Chriſt was appointed, would have done nothing to have prevented or interrupted his own Appointment.

NOW as the Dreams in thoſe Days, and our Dreams at this Time, are exceeding different; and that as our Heads are ſo full of impertinent Thoughts in the Day, which in proportion crowd the Imagination at Night, ſo our Dreams are tri⯑fling and fooliſh: How ſhall we do to know when they are to be taken Notice of, and when not? When there is a real Apparition haunting us, or ſhowing it ſelf, to us and when not? in a word, when an Angel, or when a Devil, appears to us in a Dream?

IT is a nice Queſtion, and as it does not parti⯑cularly relate to the preſent Enquiry, ſo it would require too long a Digreſſion to diſcourſe Critically upon it; but I ſhall diſmiſs it with this ſhort An⯑ſwer, We muſt judge, as I ſaid before in the Caſe of open Apparitions, by the Weight, and by the Na⯑ture of the Meſſage or Errand which the Appari⯑on comes about; evil Meſſengers ſeldom come of good Errands, and Angels good or bad ſeldom come on trifling Meſſages.

[207] TRIFLING Dreams are the Product of the Mind being engag'd in trifling Matters; a Child dreams of its Play, a Houſe-wife dreams of her Kitchen, a Nurſe of the Children, a Tradeſman of his Shop; theſe have nothing of Apparition in them; nothing of Angels or Spirts, God or Devil; but when Dream comes up to Viſion, and the Soul is embark'd in a ſuperior Degree, to a Commerce above the ordinary Rate, then you may conclude you have had ſome extraordinary Viſitors, that you have been in ſome good or bad Company in the Night, and you are left to judge of what kind, by the Subſtance or Tenour of the Viſion. If it be to open the Underſtanding, to encreaſe Knowledge, to ſeal Inſtruction; in a word, if it is for direction to good Actions, or ſtirring up the Soul of Man to perform his Duty to God or Man, 'tis certainly from above; 'tis an Apparition from God, 'tis a Viſion of Angels and good Spirits. Job xxxiii. 15. In a Dream, in a Viſion of the Night, when deep Sleep falleth upon Men, in ſlumbrings upon the Bed.

IF it be an Allurement to Vice, laying before you an Opportunity to ſteal, preſenting an Object of Beauty, an Intic [...]ment to commit an unlawful Action; depend upon it 'tis from the dark Regions, 'tis an Apparition of the Devil, and he employs his Agents, and perhaps attends in Perſon to draw you into Miſchief.

N. B. HERE 'tis worth a wiſe Man's conſider⯑ing, whether the Devil repreſenting a Temp⯑tation to any Perſon in a Dream, and the Per⯑ſon complying, he is not guilty of the Fact as really as if he had been awake. I leave it only as a Head of Reflection: For Example,

THE Devil, ſubtle in his Contrivance, as well as vigilant in Application of Circumſtances, knows a Man to be in perplex'd Circumſtances, diſtreſs'd for [208] want of Money, a periſhing Family, a craving Ne⯑ceſſity; he comes in his Sleep and preſents him with a little Child dreſs'd up with Jewels of a great Value, and a Purſe of Gold in its Hand, and all this as happening in a Place perfectly opportune for the Purpoſe, the Nurſe having negligently left the Child out of her Sight.

AS he preſents the Temptation, he ſtands at the Perſon's Elbow; prompts him; ſays, Take away that Chain or String of Pearl, and the Purſe, the Child is alone, it can tell no Tales, take it quickly; are not you in Diſtreſs, and do you not want it at this time to an Extremity, and can any one ever diſco⯑ver it? the Child's Friends are rich, it will do them no hurt; if they valu'd ſuch things, they would never have put them about a little Child, it is no great Matter to them; beſides 'tis due to their Vanity and Oſtentation, which was the only rea⯑ſon of dreſſing up a little Child in ſuch a Manner. Come, come, take it up quickly, it may ſave you from Ruin, and as ſoon as you are able, you may make them Satisfaction again, and ſo diſcharge your Conſcience. The Man, unable to reſiſt the Snare, conſents, ſtrips the innocent Child of its Ornaments, and goes away unſeen; but in a Moment or two wakes with the Surpriſe, ſees it is a Cheat, and looks back on it with a double Regret. 1. That he is diſappointed of the Prize which he wanted, and fancy'd himſelf reliev'd by. 2. That the Devil Triumphs over him, and he is both deluded into the Crime, and deceived in the Expectation of its Reward.

I COULD give this in the Form of a Relation of Fact, and give Evidence of the Truth of it; for I had the Account of it from the Perſon's own Lips, who was attack'd in Sleep, and (as he ſaid with a ſincere Affliction) yielded to the Temptation; and I committed the barbarous Robbery, ſaid he, [209] with the utmoſt Reſentment; I plunder'd and ſtrip'd the poor ſmiling Infant, who innocently play'd with me when I took off its Ornaments, gave me the Purſe of Gold out of its little Pocket, and bid me keep it for her to play with. I robb'd it, ſays he, in my Imagination, and deſerve as much to be hang'd for it, as if I had actually committed the horrid Fact at Noon-day; Ay, ſays he, with a kind of Tremor in his Conſcience from the Horror of the Fact, I ought to be hang'd for it, and to be damn'd for it too, for I as really and effectually did it as if I had been apprehended and carry'd to Newgate for it.

IT is true, it gave him a particular Satisfaction, with reſpect to his Perſonal Safety, that he had not committed the Fact; but it gave him no leſs Trouble in his Conſcience, than if he had been actually guilty.

WHAT was this but an Apparition of the Devil, a real viſible Apparition! viſible to the Mind, tho' not to the Body? and that in a double Capacity too; the Devil without in the Temptation, and the Devil within yielding to it.

I KNOW another living Example of this kind, and I had that Part too from the Perſon himſelf: He was a ſober religious Gentleman; he was in the letter of it a ſingle Man; for tho' he had been unhap⯑pily married, he liv'd in a ſeparate State from his Wife; and, to ſay no more of it, upon a juſtifiable Occaſion, namely, that his Wife was wickedly gone away, as he ſuppos'd, with another Man.

BEFORE he was marry'd to the unhappy Wo⯑man, he had lov'd a very handſom beautiful Lady, and had gone ſo far as to court her a long time for Marriage; but ſome Difficulty in their Circumſtan⯑ces prevented their coming together, and he took another; which the firſt Lady reſented ſo, as that it coſt her too dear, for ſhe died ſoon after.

THE Affliction of this was very heavy to him, [210] after he found himſelf abus'd in his real Marriage, as above. I ſay after, for at firſt it ſeems it was not. Under the melancholy Reflections of theſe contrary Circumſtances, which frequently loaded his Mind, He dreams one Night, that his former Miſtreſs came to him with a ſmiling Countenance; I might have ex⯑preſs'd it rather, that his former Miſtreſs appear'd to him in a Dream, and with a ſmiling chearful Coun⯑tenance, told him, that his Run-away Wife was Dead, and now you are mine, ſays the Apparition. He receiv'd the News with a particular Satisfaction, and embrac'd the Lady, as his former Inclinations dictated to him; he had not the leaſt Notion, as he proteſted ſolemnly, or the leaſt Remembrance that ſhe was dead.

WHEN he awak'd, and found it all a Dream, he was exceedingly afflicted with the Surpriſe; looking upon himſelf to be as really Guilty, as if he had been awake, and the Lady alive; and I can⯑not but ſay he had ſome Reaſon.

WHETHER this, if really True, could be any thing but an Apparition of an evil Spirit; the De⯑vil laying a Snare for him, and prevailing with him in Dream in a manner, and to commit a Crime, which he could not prevail with him to be guilty of when ſhe was alive.

I COULD give an Account of another Perſon, whom the Devil haunted frequently, and that for many Years together, with lewd Apparitions; temp⯑ting him in his Sleep with the Company of beau⯑tiful Women, ſometimes naked, ſometimes even in Bed with him; and at other times in Converſation prompting him to Wickedneſs, and that ſometimes he was prevail'd upon to conſent; but always hap⯑pily prevented by waking in time: But the Caſe has on two or three Occaſions been mention'd by other Hands, and the Perſon is too much known to allow the farther Deſcription of it, without his Conſent.

[211] I CANNOT doubt but theſe things are ſtated formal Apparitions of the Devil; and tho' the Per⯑ſo nmay be aſleep, and not thoroughly ſenſible either of what he is doing, or of what is doing with him, yet that the evil Spirit is actually preſent with him in Apparition, I think will not admit of any Que⯑ſtion.

THE World is too full of Examples of this kind, to enter into a long Account of the Parti⯑culars. There is hardly a Book upon the Subject but is filled up with hiſtorical Relations; hardly a Perſon to be convers'd with upon the Subject, but is full of them, either for themſelves or ſome of their Acquaintance; and every one is rendering their Dreams to be conſiderable, and all to come to paſs: But out of five hundred Dreams ſo told, and which ſo much Streſs is ſeemingly laid on, 'tis hard to find one that we can call a real Ap⯑parition in Dream.

THE great, and perhaps one of the great⯑eſt Difficulties of Life, I mean that relates to Dreams, is to diſtinguiſh between ſuch as are real Apparitions, and ſuch as are only the Product of an incumber'd Brain, a diſtemper'd Head, or which is worſe, a diſtemper'd Mind: But ſome Dreams are ſo ſignificant, and there follows ſuch an imme⯑diate viſible Effect anſwering the deſign'd Illumi⯑nation, that it cannot but be ſignificant.

A CERTAIN Gentleman who had lately buried his Wife, a Lady of great Piety and Virtue, was ſo exceedingly afflicted at his Loſs, that among o⯑ther melancholy things which were the Effect of it, this was one; that he was ſo far from deſiring to marry again, that he entertained a ſettled ri⯑veted Averſion to the whole Sex, and was never thoroughly eaſie in their Company; and thus he liv'd near two Years.

[212] AFTER a certain time his Wife appear'd to him in his Dream, or he dream'd that he ſaw his Wife; but I rather put it in the firſt Senſe: She came to him, as he thought, to the Bedſide, with a ſmi⯑ling and pleaſant Countenance, and calling him by the Term which ſhe always gave him, My Deareſt.

HE was in a great Conſternation, but could not ſpeak to her; but ſhe ſaid, Do not be afraid of me, I will do you no Hurt; and then ſaid, What is the Reaſon that you mourn thus for me?

He ſtill ſaid nothing; that is to ſay, he dream'd that he ſaid nothing, but that he fetch'd a deep Sigh.

COME, come, ſays ſhe, Friends loſt are Friends loſt, and cannot be recalled.

THEN he ſpoke, that is dream'd that he ſpoke, and ask'd her, why ſhe appear'd to him.

SHE ſaid, to put an End to his unreaſonable Grief.

HOW can that be? ſays he. You now encreaſe my Grief, by bringing your ſelf thus to my Remem⯑brance.

NO, no, ſays ſhe, you muſt forget me, and pray take another Wife, which will be the way to cauſe you to forget me effectually.

NO, no, ſaid he, that I can never do; and how can you deſire it of me?

YES, ſays ſhe, I do deſire it of you, and I come to direct you whom you ſhall have.

HE deſir'd ſhe would talk no more to him; for, ſays he, you cannot be my Wife; it muſt be ſome evil Spirit come to tempt me in ſuch a Shape, and to deſtroy me.

WITH that ſhe ſeem'd to weep, and to pity him.

HE ſigh'd again, and deſir'd that if ſhe was able to retain any Affection to him in the Condition ſhe [213] was then in, that ſhe would ſhow it by coming no more to diſorder him in that manner.

SHE ſaid, Well, I will trouble you no more, if you liſten to the Directions I ſhall now give you, and will perform them.

WHAT are they? ſays he.

On the firſt Wedneſday in October, ſays ſhe, you [...]ill be invited to Dinner to ſuch a Houſe, there [...] [...]ill ſee a Gentlewoman dreſs'd in white ſit [...] [...]gainſt you at the Table; ſhe ſhall be your [...], and ſhe will be a kind Mother to my Children. [...] ſeems ſhe gave other Particulars of the Gen⯑ [...]oman's Dreſs, and in particular that ſhe would [...] to him; all which came to paſs accordingly.

[...]TER ſhe had ſaid this, ſhe diſppeared; the Story does not ſay ſhe went away with a melodious Sound, or with rich Perfumes, or the like, as is pre⯑tended often in ſuch like Caſes; nor do I remem⯑ber to have heard that he married the Perſon, tho' he really ſaw her at the Feaſt.

BUT the Queſtion from all this Story is only this, viz. Whether, ſuppoſing the Caſe to be litte⯑rally true, was this an Apparition, or was it on⯑ly a ſimple Dream? I affirm it muſt be an Appari⯑tion, that is to ſay, a Spirit came to him in the Perſon of, or perſonating his Wife.

THE following Story I had from the Mouth of the very Perſon who was chiefly concerned in it, I mean the Captain of the Ship itſelf.

ONE Captain Thomas Rogers, Commander of a Ship called the Society, was bound on a Voyage from London to Virginia about the Year 1694.

THE Ship was hired in London, and being ſent light, as they call it, to Virginia for a Loading of Tobacco, had not many Goods in her outward bound, ſuppoſe about two or three a hundred Ton, which was not counted a Loading, or indeed half her [214] Loading; the Ship being very large, above five hundred Ton Burthen.

THEY had had a pretty good Paſſage, and the Day before had had an Obſer [...]ation, whereupon the Mates and proper Officers had brought their Books and caſt up their Reckonings with the Cap⯑tain, to ſee how near they were to the Coaſts of America; they all agreed that they were at leaſt about an hundred Leagues Diſtance from the Capes of Vir⯑ginia. Upon theſe cuſtomary Reckonings, and with⯑all heaving the Lead, and finding no Ground at an hundred Fathom, they ſet the Watch, and the Captain turn'd in (as they call it at Sea) that is, went to Bed.

THE Weather was good, a moderate Gale of Wind, and blowing fair for the Coaſt, ſo that the Ship might have run about twelve or fifteen Leagues in the Night aft [...]r the Captain was in his Cab⯑bin.

HE fell aſleep, and ſlept very ſoundly for about three Hours, when he waked again, and lay 'till he heard his ſecond Mate turn out, and relieve the Watch; and then he call'd his chief Mate as he was going off from the Watch, and ask'd him how all things far'd; who anſwer'd, that all was well, and the Gale freſhen'd, and they run at a great Rate; but 'twas a fair Wind and a fine clear Night; ſo the Captain went to ſleep again.

ABOUT an Hour after he had been aſleep again, he dream'd that a Man pull'd him or wak'd him, and he did wake. I am not ſure, but I think he ſaid the Thing that wak'd him bad him get up, that is, turn out and look abroad. But whether it was ſo or no, he lay ſtill and compos'd himſelf to ſl [...]ep, and drop' [...] again, and ſuddenly awak'd again, and thus ſeveral times; and tho' he knew nothing what was the Reaſon, yet he found it was impoſſi⯑ble for him to go to ſleep, and ſtill he heard the [215] Viſion ſay, or thought he heard it ſay, turn out and look abroad.

HE lay in this Uneaſineſs near two Hours, but at laſt it encreas'd ſo upon him, that he could lie no longer, but gets up, puts on his Watch Gown, and comes out upon the Quarter-deck; there he found his ſecond Mate walking about, and the Boat⯑ſwain upon the Forecaſtle, the Night fine and clear, a fair Wind, and all well as before.

THE Mate wondering to ſee him, at firſt did not know him; but calling, Who's there? the Cap⯑tain anſwer'd, and the Mate returns, Who, the Captain! what's the matter, Sir?

SAYS the Captain, I don't know, but I have been very uneaſie theſe two Hours, and ſome body or my own Fancy bid me turn out and look abroad, tho' I know not what can be the meaning of it.

THERE can be nothing in it, but ſome Dream, ſays the Mate.

SAYS the Captain, How does the Ship Cape?

SOUTH-WEST by South, ſays the Mate; fair for the Coaſt, and the Wind Eaſt by North.

THAT'S all very good, ſays the Captain; and ſo, after ſome other uſual Queſtions, he turn'd about to go back to his Cabin; when, as if it had been ſome body that ſtood by him had ſpoke, it came into his Mind like a Voice, Heave the Lead, heave the Lead.

UPON this he turns again to his ſecond Mate, Mate, ſays the Captain, when did you heave the Lead? what Water had you?

ABOUT an Hour ago, ſays the Mate, ſixty Fa⯑thom.

Heave again, ſays the Captain.

THERE'S no manner of Occaſion, Sir, ſays the Mate, but if you pleaſe it ſhall be done.

I DON'T know, ſays the Captain, 'tis needleſs in⯑deed, I think; and ſo was going away again, [216] but was, as it were, forc'd to turn back as before, and ſays to the Mate, I know not what ails me, but I can't be eaſie; come call a Hand aft, and heave the Lead.

ACCORDINGLY a Hand was called, and the Lead being caſt or heaved, as they call it, they had Ground at eleven Fathom [...]

THIS ſurpriz'd them all, but much more when at the next Caſt it came up ſeven Fathom.

UPON this the Captain in a Fright bad them put the Helm a Lee, and about Ship, all Hands being order'd to back the Sails, as is uſual in ſuch Caſes.

THE proper Orders being obeyed, the Ship ſtay'd preſently and came about; and when ſhe was about, before the Sails fill'd, ſhe had but four Fa⯑thoms and a half Water under her Stern; as ſoon as ſhe filled and ſtood off, they had ſeven Fathom again, and at the next Caſt eleven Fathom, and ſo on to twenty Fathom; ſo he ſtood off to Seaward all the reſt of the Watch, to get into deep Water, 'till Day⯑break; when being a clear Morning, there were the Capes of Virginia and all the Coaſt of America in fair View under their Stern, and but a very few Leagues Diſtance: Had they ſtood on but one Cable's length farther, as they were going, they had been Bump a-ſhore (ſo the Sailors call it) and had certainly loſt their Ship, if not their Lives.

NOW, what could this be? Not the Devil, that we may vouch for him, he would hardly be guil⯑ty of doing ſo much good; hardly an Angel ſent from Heaven Expreſs, that we dare not preſume; but that it was the Work of a waking Providence, by ſome inviſible Agent employ'd for that Occaſion, who took Sleep from the Captain's Eyes; as once in a Caſe of infinitely more Importance was done to King Ahaſuerus; This we may conclude. Had the Captain ſlept as uſual, and as Nature requir'd, [217] they had been all loſt; the Shore being flat at a great Diſtance, and, as I ſuppoſe, the Tide low, the Ship had been a-ground in an Inſtant, and the Sea, which run high, would have broke over her, and ſoon have daſh'd her in Pieces.

HOW it happen'd that the Mates and other Navigators on Board (for it being a very great Ship, they had ſeveral experienc'd Men among them) ſhould all of them have kept, and yet all be out in their Reckoning, and that ſo much as to think them⯑ſelves an hundred Leagues from the Coaſt, when they were not above twenty or twenty five, that was to be accounted for among themſelves; but cer⯑tain it was, if it had not been for thus being wak'd and jogg'd in the Night, and kept awake too in ſpite of his own Drowſineſs, the Captain had lain ſtill, and the whole Ship's Company been in the utmoſt Hazard.

IF this was not an Apparition, it muſt be what the Scripture calls it in another Caſe, being warned of God in a Dream; which by the way is the ſame thing; but here was ſomething more than being warned, for the Captain own'd he was in no Dream. He dream'd nothing at all, much leſs any thing of Danger; he went to his Bed or Cabbin with all the prudent Caution that any Man in that im⯑portant Truſt of a Ship in the Ocean could do; and then after having made their Calculations, caſt up their Reckonings, ſet their Watch, and made every thing ſure, he laid down with all the Satisfaction that it was poſſible for any Man in a like Caſe to have.

TO any Men that underſtand the Sea Affairs, this Caſe will be more feelingly and ſenſibly read; they will be more touch'd with the Surprize the Ship's Company muſt be all in, to ſee them⯑ſelves juſt running a-ground, when they believed themſelves an hundred Leagues from the Shore, to [218] find themſelves within two Inches of Death, when they believ'd themſelves as ſafe as a Ship at Sea with a moderate Gale and a fair Wind could be ſuppoſed to be.

AND how will thoſe modern Wits, of which our Age is ſo full, account for this, who allow no God or Providence, no inviſible World, no Angelick, kind and waking Spirits, who, by a ſecret Corre⯑ſpondence with our embodied Spirits, give merci⯑ful Hints to us of approaching Miſchiefs and im⯑pending Dangers, and that timely, ſo as to put the Means into our Hands to avoid and eſcape them?

WHICH way will ſuch Men ſolve the main Difficulty in ſuch a Caſe as this, viz. What this ſhould be? Will they reſolve it all into fortuitous Chance, meer Accident, a meer Circulation of things in the ordinary Courſe? As they ſay Shoals are raiſed to bar up a Haven, which they tell us, is nothing but the Sand and Stones driven down the Stream of a Ri⯑ver, which lodge here or there, as their own Weight, or the abating Force of the Water, or this or that Eddy and Counter-ſtream checks them, ſo deep'ning one Channel where it was Shoal, and choaking up another where it was deep, and all by meer Acci⯑dent: But this is very groſs arguing.

IT were eaſie to confute theſe weak pretences to Chance and Incident, and to ſhow the neceſſity of an intelligent Being; but that is not my work: I am not upon the Reality of ſuch an intelligent Be⯑ing, but the Reality of its ordinary and extraordina⯑ry actings, the Agents it employs, and the manner of their executing the Commiſſions they receive; which 'tis evident they faithfully perform, and effectually too; ſometimes by one method, ſome⯑times by another, and particularly by this of Ap⯑parition, as well to the Eyes of the Soul, as to the Eye of the Body, ſleeping or waking 'tis the ſame.

[219] OUR Friends the Criticks may ſtumble here, perhaps, at the ſeeming contradiction in the Terms, as particularly this of inviſible Apparition. But 'tis eaſily ſolv'd, by anſwering that it is but a ſeem⯑ing Contradiction, for both the Apparitions are vi⯑ſible, only not to the ſame Optick Powers; the Ap⯑parition in Dream is viſible to the intellectual ſight, to the Eye of the Soul; and the Day-light Appari⯑tion is viſible to the common ordinary ſight: and you have an Expreſſion in the Scripture often made uſe of, which gives an unqueſtion'd Authority for this way of ſpeaking.

THE expreſſing things dream'd of, as things ſeen, is very frequent in the Sacred Text. Jacob dream'd a Dream about Laban's Cattle, Gen. xxxi. 10. where 'tis thus expreſſed, and I ſaw in a Dream. Again Daniel, vii. 1, 2. Daniel had a Dream and Viſions of his Head upon his Bed, v. 2. and I ſaw in my Viſion by Night: v. 7. after this I ſaw in the Night Viſions, and behold a fourth Beaſ [...]: and v. 13. I ſaw in the Night Viſions, and behold; and beſides this, we have the ſame way of ſpeaking ten or eleven times in the ſame Chapter, and as many or more times in the next.

'TIS the like in relating the Dreams of Pharaoh and of Nebuchadnezzar, or the Apparitions rather which appear'd to thoſe Kings in Dream. Pharaoh ſays to Joſeph, Gen. xli. 17, 18, 19. In my Dream I ſtood upon the Bank of the River, and BEHOLD there came up; that is the ſame thing as, I ſaw them come up: v. 19. and BEHOLD ſeven other Kine came up, or I ſaw ſeven other Kine come up. So that an Apparition in Dream is viſible to the Soul, the Imagination ſees, tho' the Eyes of the Body are clos'd.

THIS Digreſſion is owing to the nice Judgment of our Criticks, whoſe exactneſs you ſee I mightily reverence, and am wonderful careful not to fall under [220] their dreadful Hands, in a thing ſo eſſential to my Subject; as for Trifles, I leave them to trifle with them to the utmoſt of their more malicious Impotence.

BUT I come now to another Relation of Fact, which alſo I take upon me to vouch the Reality of, having been preſent at the very inſtant of every part of it.

A PERSON, whoſe Name it is not ſo proper to mention here, but who may be produc'd if there ſhould be occaſion, being ſtill living, was under the diſaſter, about the Year 1701, to fall under a Party Cenſure, (the occaſion is needleſs to the preſent Caſe.) In hopes, upon the Receſs of the Houſe, which was not far off, he ſhould (as is uſual) be at Liberty, he withdrew himſelf, and avoided being taken up as much as he could; but the Houſe reſenting it, a Vote was paſt, ordering the Secretary of State to proſecute him at Law; which oblig'd him to reſolve to leave the Kingdom, and in the mean time to conceal himſelf with more exactneſs; the Govern⯑ment having iſſued out a Proclamation for appre⯑hending him, with a Reward to the Perſon who ſhould diſcover where he was, ſo as he might be taken.

IN order to conceal himſelf more effectually, he left his Lodging where he had been hid for ſome time, and remov'd to Barnet on the Edge of Hert⯑fordſhire; intending, as ſoon as he had ſettled ſome Family Affairs, to go away North into Scotland: But before he went away he was oblig'd to come once more to London, to ſign ſome Writings for the ſecuring ſome Eſtate, which it was fear'd might be ſeiz'd by Out-law, if the Proſecution had gone on ſo far.

THE Night before he had appointed to come to London, as above, being in Bed with one Mr. R—D—he dream'd that he was in his Lodgings at London, where he had been conceal'd as above, and [221] in his Dream he ſaw two Men come to the Door, who ſaid they were Meſſengers, and produc'd a War⯑rant from the Secretary of State to apprehend him, and that accordingly they ſeiz'd upon and took him.

THE Viſion ſurpriz'd and wak'd him, and he waked Mr. D—his Brother-in-law, who was in Bed with him, and told him the Dream, and what a Surprize he was in about it. Mr. D—ſeeing it was but a Dream, advis'd him to give no heed to it, but compoſe himſelf and go to ſleep again, and he did ſo.

AS ſoon as he was faſt aſleep again, he was wak'd again with the ſame Dream exactly as before; and he awak'd his Brother again, as before [...] It diſturb'd them both very much; but being heavy to ſleep, they both went to ſleep again, and dream'd no more. It is to be obſerv'd, that he ſaw the very Men that apprehended him, their Countenances, Cloaths, Weapons, &c. and deſcrib'd them in the Morning to his ſaid Brother D—in all the Particulars.

HOWEVER the Call to go to London being as he thought urgent, he got ready in the Morning to go, reſolving to ſtay but one Day, and then ſet forward for Scotland. Accordingly he went for Lon⯑don in the Morning, and that he might not be known, walk'd it on Foot; that ſo he might go by more private ways over Enfield Chaſe, and ſo to Southgate, Hornſey, &c.

ALL the way as he walk'd his Mind was heavy, and oppreſs'd; and he frequently ſaid to his Bro⯑ther who walk'd with him, that he was certain he was going to London to be ſurpriz'd: and ſo ſtrong was the foreboding Impreſſion upon his Mind, that he once ſtop'd at Hornſey, and endeavoured to get a Lodging, intending to ſend his Brother to London to ſee if nothing had happen'd there to give him any Alarm.

[222] AS he had juſt ſecured a convenient Lodging, he accidentally ſaw a Gentleman ſtanding at the next Door, who he knew very well, but durſt not venture to truſt on that Occaſion; and finding on Enquiry that he dwelt there, he concluded that was no Place for him, and ſo reſolv'd to go for⯑wards.

THE Impreſſion upon his Mind continuing, he ſtop'd again at Iſlington, and endeavour'd to get a Lodging there; but could not: ſo at laſt, when his Brother brought him word he could not get a Lodging, except where it was too publick, Well, ſay [...] he, than I muſt go to London, and take what follows; or to that purpoſe; and accordingly did go, and the next Morning was taken by the Meſſengers, juſt in the very manner as he had been told in his Dream; and the very ſame two Men, whoſe Faces he had ſeen, and with the ſame Cloaths on and Weapons, exactly as he had deſcrib'd.

THIS Story I had from his own Mouth, and confirmed by Mr. R—D—his Brother-in-law, to whom he related his Viſion at the very Moment of it, as above.

I REFER it to any impartial Judgment to weigh every Circumſtance of this Account (the Truth of which I have not the leaſt Reaſon to que⯑ſtion) and to tell me, by what Powers, and from what Influence could theſe things be perform'd, if there were no inviſible World, and no Inhabitants there, who concern'd themſelves with our Affairs? no good Spirits which convers'd with our embo⯑died Spirits, and gave us due intelligence, notice, and warning of approaching Danger.

IF there is any Difficulty in this Caſe, it ſeems to me to be in the Event of the thing, as in the Caſe mention'd: Why was not the Intelligence made ſo compleat, ſo forcible, and the Impreſſion [223] ſo plain, that the Perſon in whoſe Favour it was all done might have been effectually alarm'd, his go⯑ing forward ſtopt, and conſequently the Miſchief which was at hand, and which he had the notice of, effectually prevented?

IT is not indeed ſo eaſy to anſwer that part; but it may be reſolv'd into this, that the Fault ſeems to be our own, that we do not give due attention to ſuch notice, as might be ſufficient to our Delive⯑rance. If an Enemy be at hand, and the Out-Cen⯑tinel fires his Piece, he does his Duty; if the whole Camp does not take the Alarm, but are ſurpriz'd, the fault is their own, the Man did all that was to be expected from him; nor do the Officers or Ge⯑nerals ſlight the notice, and ſay 'tis nothing but a ſorry Fellow ſhot off his Muſquet, and ſo take no more heed to it.

ON the contrary, they conclude the C [...]ntinel is poſted upon Duty; he would not fire his Piece without a ſufficient Cauſe, and give a falſe alarm to the Camp for nothing; ther [...] muſt be ſomething extraordinary, and accordingly they order the Drums to beat, and immediately call to Arms.

THUS if the inviſible Spirits give a due alarm, they do their part; if they jog us and awaken us in a deep ſleep, and pull us again and again, and give us notice that ſomething is coming, that ſome Dan⯑ger is at the Door; if we will ſleep on 'till it comes, if we will go on, happen what happen may, the kind Spirit has done its Duty, diſcharg'd its Office, and if we fall into the Miſchief, the fault is our own, we can by no means blame the inſuffi⯑ciency of the Notice, and ſay, to what purpoſe is it? ſeeing we had due and timely warning, but would not take the hint; we had due notice of the danger, and would not ſtep out of the way to avoid it; the fault is wholly our own.

[224] ANOTHER Account I had a ſufficient Voucher for, tho' the Gentleman is now dead; but I had great reaſon to believe the truth of it.

A YOUNG Gentleman of good Birth and For⯑tune, in the beginning of the late War with France, had a violent inclination to ſee the World, as he call'd it, and reſolv'd to go into the Army; his Fa⯑ther was dead, and had left him a good Eſtate; that is to ſay, between four and five hundred Pounds a Year; beſides his Mother's Joynture, which after her Life would fall to him of courſe.

HIS Mother earneſtly entreated him not to go into the Army; but preſt him rather to tra⯑vel, and ſo might ſee the World, as ſhe ſaid, without feeling the Calamities of the War, and without hazarding his Life.

HE told her Travelling indeed in time of Peace was all a Gentleman could do, and was at beſt very expenſive; but that now was the time a Man might ſee the World at the expence of the Pub⯑lick, and perhaps might make his Fortune too.

HIS Mother repreſented the danger of his Life, and bad him conſider how many Gentlemen went into the Army, and of them, have few liv'd to come home again, much leſs to riſe to any degree of Pre⯑ferment.

HE made light of all that, and told his Mother (as is the general Saying of warm Heads when they puſh their Fortunes, as they call it,) that if he hap⯑pen'd to be knock'd on the Head there was an End of him, and he was provided for.

WELL, Son, ſays the old Lady, I am oblig'd to ſubmit to it, you are your own Maſter; but re⯑member your Mother's Tears, (and with thoſe Words ſhe wept;) I can but entreat you not to go, you have Eſtate enough to make you eaſy; let thoſe go whoſe narrow Circumſtances make the hazard rational, and let them go abroad to die, that [225] can't tell how to live; you can pay thoſe that do go; you have no need to run the Riſque, who do not want the Pay.

HE ſlighted all her entreaties, and told her, if his Father was alive he did not doubt but he would give his Conſent, for he had done the ſame thing in his young Days.

NO, no, Son, ſaid his Mother, your Father knew better; he took a Commiſſion when he was the youngeſt of three Sons, and had nothing to expect at home but the fate of a younger Brother; but as ſoon as he heard that his Elder Brothers were both dead, and the Eſtate all come to him, he laid down his Arms, ſold his Commiſſion, and ſaid he had no more Buſineſs in the Army; and he would tell you the ſame thing if he was alive: he uſed always to ſay, that the Sword and the Book are the Portions of younger Brothers, the Coach and the Equipage is for the Heir.

WELL, 'twas all one; whatever his Mother's Arguments could do, or even ſpeaking Tears cou'd ſay, nothing could prevail; but he mortgag'd part of his Eſtate to purchaſe a Company in the firſt Regiment of Guards, and into the Army he would go.

THE Night before he ſign'd the Agreement for the Company, being in his Bed and faſt aſleep, he ſaw in a Dream his Father come to him in his Gown, and with a great Fur Cap on, ſuch as he us'd to wear: And calling him by his Name, What is the Reaſon, ſays he, that you will not liſten to the entreaties of your Mother not to go to the Wars; but anſwer her that I would not diſſuade you? I do aſſure you, that if you reſolve to take this Com⯑miſſion you will not enjoy it three Years.

WHY, ſays he (in his Dream) what wi [...] hinder me? being it ſeems deſirous to know ſomething of his Fortune.

[226] ASK me not the Particulars, ſays the Apparition, but either decline the Employ, or when you have enjoy'd it two Years and a half, ſell out again, as I did before you.

I CAN'T promiſe that, ſays he.

THEN you may promiſe your ſelf, ſays the Ap⯑parition, that it ſhall be worſe.

HE ſeem'd to ſlight the Admonition, and ſaid, it was too late to look back.

TOO late! too late! ſays the Apparition, repeating the Words; then go on, and repent too late.

HE was not much affected with this Apparition, when he wak'd and found it was but a Dream; for Dreams, ſaid he, are not to be heeded; ſo he went on and bought the Commiſſion.

A FEW Days after the Commiſſion was bought, the Father appear'd again, not to him but to his Mother, in a Dream too as before; and taking notice to her, how his Son had rejected her Admonition, it added,

ALL theſe Notices were of no force with this young Gentleman; but as he had reſolv'd, ſo he purſued his Reſolution, and went into the Army; and two Battallions of that Regiment going into the Field that Summer, his Company was one, and ſo he went abroad into Flanders.

HE wanted no occaſion to ſhow his Bravery, and in ſeveral warm Actions come off with applauſe; ſo that he was far from being ſuſpected of Cowardiſe: But one Day, and in the third Year of his Service, the Army was drawn out in order of Battel, the General having receiv'd certain Advice, that the E⯑nemy would come and attack them. As he ſtood at the Head of his Company, he was ſuddenly ſeiz'd with a cold ſhivering Fit, and it was ſo violent [227] that ſome Officers who were near him, every one at their Poſt, perceiv'd it.

AS it was to no purpoſe for him to conceal it, he turn'd to his Lieutenant who ſtood next to him, and from whoſe Mouth I receiv'd the particular Account of it: I cannot imagine, ſays he, what is the occaſion of this ſhaking Fit.

IT is your eagerneſs to fall on, ſays the Lieute⯑nant, I have often been ſo, and begin to be ſo now; I wiſh the French would come on, that we might have ſomething to do.

IT continu'd about a quarter of an Hour, and the Enemy did come on as was expected; but the fight began upon the left, a good diſtance from them, ſo that the whole left Wing was engag'd before they began.

WHILE this laſted, the Lieutenant call'd to the Gentleman, Colonel, ſay [...] he, how do you do? I hope your ſhivering Fit is over.

NO, ſays the Colonel, 'tis not over; but 'tis a lit⯑tle better.

IT will be all over preſently, ſays the Lieutenant.

AY, ſo 'twill, ſays the Colonel, I am very eaſy, I know what 'twas now; and with that he call'd the Lieutenant to come to him for one Moment.

WHEN he came, ſays he, I know now what ail'd me, I am very eaſy, I have ſeen my Father; I ſhall be kill'd the firſt Volley; let my Mother know I told you this.

IN a few Minutes afte [...] this, a Body of the E⯑nemy advanc'd, and the very firſt Volley the Regi⯑ment receiv'd was the fire of five Plottoons of Gre⯑nadiers, by which the Captain and ſeveral other Officers, beſides private Men were kill'd, and the whole Brigade was ſoon af [...]er put into Confuſion; tho' being ſupported by ſome Regiments of the ſe⯑cond Line, they rallied again ſoon after; the Cap⯑tain's Body was preſently recover'd; but he was [228] irrecoverably Dead, for he receiv'd a Shot in his Face which kill'd him immediately.

IF all the Notices from the inviſible World could have been of any Uſe to him, or he had been to be wrought upon by Cautions and Advices, which nothing but a moſt obſtinate Temper would have ſo totally diſregarded, the Man had been ſafe; But what can be expected when Men are as plainly inform'd of things, as by ſuch Methods can be ſup⯑pos'd rational, and will not take the Hint?

LUCIUS FLORUS records of Julius Caeſar, that a Woman of a Maſculine Countenance, and of a mighty Stature, appeared to him in a Dream, and beckon'd to him to follow her; that upon his fol⯑lowing her, ſhe went over the River Rubicon, and ſtood on the farther Bank, beckoning to him to come over; upon which the next Day he boldly enter'd Italy, paſſing the Rubicon, which was the Boundary of Italy on that Side.

I KNOW ſome relate this as an Apparition to Caeſar in the open Day, but I underſtand it o⯑therwiſe, and that it was underſtood of the Genius of Italy, as they then call'd it, and that he had ſuch a Viſion in his Sleep, which encourag'd him in his Attempt upon the Liberty of his Country; inti⯑mating, that the whole Country invited him, and that he might be ſure of Succeſs.

I SHALL not run out here into the Account of Dreams; the Variety of them is Infinite, and, as I hinted before, few of them of Importance enough to deſerve any Regard; but ſuch Dreams as neceſ⯑ſarily intimate an Apparition of Spirits, thoſe I think muſt be Significant.

THE following is part Viſion, part Apparition, and ſeems to make One be an Evidence of the O⯑ther, and therefore is very particularly to my Pur⯑poſe. T—H—a Gentleman of Fortune, eldeſt Son of the Family, his Father a Baronet, and of an [229] honourable Line, and then living, being a young Man, and a Man of Pleaſure, had an Intreague with a certain Lady, in which his younger Brother (of the two rather more Gay, and given that way than himſelf) was his Rival: The Lady was hand⯑ſome, and of no deſpicable Fortune, but much in⯑feriour to the eldeſt Son of the Family, whoſe For⯑tune was near two thouſand Pound per Annum, af⯑ter his Father Sir G—H—.

THE younger Gentleman was really in Love with the Lady, and inclin'd to marry her, if he could bring his Father to conſent to it, and had two or three times ſpoken to the old Knight about it; nor was his Father much averſe to it, only he thought her Fortune too ſmall.

SIR G—told his Son, if he had been his Eldeſt, he ſhould have been eaſier in the Propoſal, becauſe his Paternal Eſtate being Free, and perfect⯑ly unincumber'd, he thought the Heir was not under that Neceſſity of making his Fortune by a Wife; but that a younger Brother ought always to ſeek a Fortune to mend his Circumſtances. He us'd to jeſt with his Son, and tell him, it was this made him connive at his way of Life; that a younger Brother ſhould be Handſom, be a Scholar, Dreſs, and be Gay; the firſt to recommend him to the Court, the ſecond to recommend him to the La⯑dies; that the Heir having no need, was often left to be a Booby Knight, juſt able to write his own Name, Halloo to his own Dogs, and ride the light Saddle; but as he had ſeldom any Share of Brains, Nature wiſely gave the Wit [...]o one, and the Eſtate to the other; ſo, ſays the Knight, your Bro⯑ther has his Affairs in a quite different Si [...]uation.

THESE good-natur'd kind of Arguments the old Knight us'd with his younger Son, to perſuade him againſt marrying the Lady; but he did not ab⯑ſolutely forbid him on pain of his Diſpleaſure, and [230] of withdrawing his Hand from him, with reſpect to Money, ſo that the young Gentleman kept the Lady Company openly; and though he had not yet made the Propoſal to her, yet did really deſign it; I mean the honourable Propoſal, (viz.) of Marriage.

ON the other hand, the Eſquire, as they call'd him, kept her Company, on another and far worſe Account, deſigning to make a Miſtreſs of her, and not a Wife.

UPON theſe differing Views, the Brothers often met at the Lady's Houſe, that is to ſay, at her Aunt's where ſhe liv'd; for ſhe had no Father, and her Mother had chang'd Circumſtances, ſo that her Daughter was as it were in her own Hands.

THE elder Brother had this Advantage in his Intereſt, (viz) that the Lady lov'd him, and would have been very well pleas'd if he had courted her for Marriage, but that was not his Deſign; ſo that in a word, the Caſe ſtood thus, the younger Bro⯑ther lov'd the Lady, but the Lady lov'd the Eſq;.

THE elder Brother laid Siege to her Virtue, and the younger laid Siege to her Affection; but, as I ſaid, the Stream running in Favour of the eldeſt, the Lady was in ſome Danger of ſacri [...]izing her Honour to her Paſſion, and the honeſt Pretenſions of the young Gentleman were in ſome Hazard of a Miſcarriage.

THE Gentlemen carry'd on their Affairs ſepa⯑rately, and their own way; but were neither of them ſo cloſe as to conceal it from one another that they had ſome Deſigns, tho' they did not fully diſcover what their Pretenſions were; however as I have ſaid that they often met at the Lady's Apartment, it could not be long before they came to a Con⯑verſation upon the Subject, and this unhappily em⯑broil'd them together at laſt, as you ſhall ſee pre⯑ſently.

[231] THE eldeſt Brother began one Evening to be a little rough with his Brother upon the Subject; Jack, ſays the Eldeſt, you and I often meet here, I don't underſtand it, pray what do you pr [...]t [...]nd to? 'tis a little odd that two Brothers ſhould have but one Miſtreſs; pr'ythee, Jack, don't let us turn Italians.

NAY, ſays Jack, what do you pretend to? If either of us is in the Wrong, I believe 'tis always on your Side.

NO, ſays T—I don't allow that neither, I am right I am ſure of it; I am always right, and I will be right, pray take Notice of that.

I TAKE Notice of nothing about it, not I, ſays Jack; all the World knows that I am right, and they ſhall know it, and you ſhall know it too, Tom—

WELL, Pr'ythee Jack, ſays Tom. alter one Piece of your Conduct, I deſire that of you.

WHAT Conduct? I don't underſtand you; but if I did, I know no Conduct of mine that is amiſs, and I ſhall alter none of it, I aſſure you.

WHY, this it is, that when I meet you here, which I think is a little too often, ſays the Eſquire, I obſerve you always ſtrive to ſtay after me, and to have me go away firſt; I tell you, I don't like it.

I SHALL alter nothing about that, I aſſure you, ſays Jack. I think I have ſome Buſineſs here more than you have; and as for your meeting me here too often [...] I think ſo too, I think you do come a little too often, unleſs you came with an honeſter Deſign.

YOU are very Pert, Mr. Jack, to your [...]lder Bro⯑ther; I think I muſt handle you a little, ſays Tom.

WHY, good Mr. elder Brother Eſquire Thomas, [...]ys Jack, when you are Baronet, you may take upon you a little; but 'till then, the Cap and the Knee is not ſo much your due, as you may think it is.

LOOK you Jack, ſays the Eſquire, I am not jeſting with you, nor I won't be jeſted with by you; the be [...]t [232] Anſwer a Gentleman gives to a Jeſt, is a Box on the Ear; or la coup de Batton.

WHY, Sir, ſays Jack, I muſt call my ſelf a Gentleman as well as you, or elſe I could not have the Honour to call you Brother: And ſince you are diſpos'd to be in Earneſt, I take leave to tell you Sir, I will be us'd like a Gentl [...]man, and if you don't know how to do it, I am able to teach you.

THEY were now both very hot; for upon the laſt Words of his Brother, the Eſquire laid hold of his Cane, at which the younger laid hold of his Sword. Look you Sir, ſays he, if you are diſpos'd to treat your Brother thus, take Notice Sir, my Father's Son may be kill'd, but he can't be can'd, and I won't take the leaſt Offer towards it at your Hand; I am ready for you when you pleaſe.

SOME Company that were not far off, and Friends to both, ran in upon this, and kept them aſunder for that time; but they ſoon met again at the ſame Place; and tho' it was two or three Days or more, yet they ſoon began the ſame kind of Diſcourſe; and which was ſtill worſe, the elder Brother, who was certainly in the Wrong, yet always began the Diſcourſe.

IT happen'd they met the laſt time at the La⯑dy's Lodgings, and were let into her Parlour, but the Lady was very unhappily abroad; ſhe had charg'd her Maid, if ever the Gentlemen cam [...] when ſhe was abroad, ſhe ſhould never let them both in, or at leaſt not both into the ſame Room; for ſhe had perceiv'd they began to be very uneaſ [...]e one with another; ſhe knew they were both hot and angry, and ſhe was afraid of ſome Miſ⯑chief between them, notwithſtanding they were Brothers.

BUT ſome of her Aunt's Servants happening t [...] come to the Door, when the eldeſt of the Gen⯑tlemen knock'd, they carry'd him into the ſam [...] [233] Parlour where the younger Brother was waiting be⯑fore for the Lady's Return.

THIS was as unluckily pointed for what fol⯑low'd, as if the Devil, who is always ready for Miſchief, had contriv'd it on Purpoſe; for the Brothers were no ſooner met, but they fell to quar⯑relling.

WELL, Jack, ſays the [...]ld [...]r Brother, you will it ſeems keep your Haunt her [...], notwithſtanding what I ſaid to you.

I DO not really underſtand what you mean by your way of talking, ſays Jack; you ſeem to take a Liberty with me, you have n [...] right to.

WHAT Liberty do I take. ſays the Eſquire. I ask'd you what Buſineſs you had here with Mrs.—was that taking too much Liberty? and I ask you again, is that an Offence?

AND I told you, ſays Jack, I ſhould give you no Account of my ſelf, did not I? was that an Of⯑fence to you? If it was, I ſee no help for it, I ſhall give you the ſame Anſwer now: I cannot imagine what you mean by asking me ſuch a Queſtion.

I KNOW what I mean by it, and I ſhall expect a better Anſwer, I tell it you in a few Words, ſays the Eſquire.

NAY, if you have a Mind to make a Quarrel of it you a [...]e welcome, ſays Jack, I'll make as few Words as you pleaſe; Only let me know your Pleaſure, tell me what you would have, and you ſhall have a direct Anſwer, or a direct Refuſal at once.

WHY, my Queſtion is ſhort, ſays the Eſquire, What do you viſit Mrs.—for? you may [...]aſily under⯑ſtand me.

I SHALL anſwer it with the ſame Qu [...]ſ [...]ion, ſays Jack; Pray what do you viſit her for?

WHY, that's as rude as you can anſwer an eld [...]r Brother, ſays the Eſquire, and as ſpi [...]ful; but few [234] Words are beſt, Jack, I viſit her for that which bears no Rivals; I hope you underſtand me now.

WELL, and I do the ſame, ſays Jack; but there is one Queſtion between us then, that carries mat⯑ter of Right with it, and that is, who viſited her firſt?

WHY that's true, Jack, ſays the Eſquire, in ſome Caſes, but not in Love; Priority is no Claim there, I ſhall not trouble my ſelf about it.

THEN I'm ſure, ſays Jack, being an elder Bro⯑ther is no Claim; ſo I ſhall take no Notice of that.

NO, no, ſays the Eſquire, I don't expect it; there are no Relatives in whoring, Jack. I know no Bro⯑ther, or Father, Uncle or Couſin, when I talk of my Miſtreſs.

VERY well, ſays Jack, now you have anſwer'd me more particularly than it may be you intended; and perhaps we may come to an Underſtanding ſooner than I expected.

WHAT do you mean, ſays the Eſquire, by an Underſtanding?

NAY, what can I mean? I mean, that you give me to underſtand, that you court Mrs.—to make a Whore of her.

BETTER Language, Jack, however, ſays the Eſquire: a Miſtreſs, you would ſay?

NOT I, ſays Jack, 'twill bear no better Language; a Whore's a Whore, you know, call it what you will, 'tis the ſame thing to me.

WELL, and ſuppoſe it then, what Buſineſs have you with it?

WHY, ſuppoſe then that I Court the ſame Lady for a Wife, I hope I have the better of you there?

NOT at all Jack, ſays the Eſquire, I ſhan't allow you ſhould make a Wife of my Miſtreſs.

NOR I can't allow, ſays Jack, that you ſhall make a Whore of my Wife.

[235] BUT I ſhall make no Scruple of it I aſſure you, ſays the Eſquire, if ſhe is willing, for all you are my Brother, I ſhall do it if I can.

AND I won't flatter you, that let her be willing or not willing, if you really do it, ſays Jack, I ſhall make no Scruple to cut your Throat for it if I can, for all you are my Brother.

VERY well, Jack, ſays the Eſquire, then I know what I have to truſt to.

IT'S very true, ſays Jack, 'tis the old Road of Knight Errantry Sir, win her and wear her, is the Word.

AND what muſt be done then? ſays the Eſquire.

NAY, ſays Jack, I need not tell you what to do; I tell you ſhe's my Wife, I think that's enough to tell you what you ought to do.

AND I tell you, ſays the Eſquire, ſhe's my Miſtreſs, that's enough to tell you, you are a Cuck [...]ld, or ſhall be ſo, I think that's fair, to tell you before-hand.

AND I think, ſays Jack, that's telling me I muſt cut your Throat before-hand too; for I will neither be a Cuckold, or be call'd ſo by you, or any Man alive.

N. B. AT this the younger Brother roſe up in a violent Rage, and went away; and the elder Brother, as hot as he, told him as he went out, he did well to leave him in Poſſeſſion.

THIS urg'd him yet more, and he turn'd back, and ſaid, I hope you will have the Manners to fol⯑low me?

NO, Jack, ſays the Eſquire, and ſwore to him, you ſhan't fight for my Miſtreſs, and my Eſtate too; I'll take care firſt you ſhall get nothing by me.

WITH all my Heart, ſays Jack, we give a Rogue time at the Gallows to ſay his Prayers, you know.

I SHALL correct you for your Impudence, Sir, to-morrow Morning, without fail, ſays the Eſquire.

[236] MUST I wait upon your Worſhip ſo long? ſays Jack, and added ſomething very bitter, as if his Brother w [...]s too much a Coward to go on with it. But it appeared otherwiſe, for that very Even⯑ing he receiv'd a Challenge from the Eſquire, ap⯑pointing Time and Place to meet the next Day by Five in the Morning.

THESE two raſh hot-headed young Fellows were carried into this Fit of Rage by the Violence rather of their fiery Spirits and Paſſions, than of their real J [...]alouſy, for they had ſcarce either of them begun to engage with the Lady one way or another; but being hot and heady, they raiſed the Storm between themſelves, and the Match and the Tinder meeting, the Flame broke out by the meer Nature of the thing.

BUT my Buſineſs is not to moralize upon the Story, but to relate the Fact. The Challenge being given, they had no more to do but to meet, fight, play the Butcher upon one another, and leave the Conſequences to Time.

THE Father, the good old Knight, who was then living, could know nothing of what had paſs'd between his Sons, for he was at that very time down at his Country Seat in W—ſhire, at leaſt ſixty Miles from London.

ON the Morrow early, according to Agreement, the Brothers prepar'd themſelves for the Buſineſs, and out they went, but by ſeveral Ways, to the Place appointed, their Lodgings being in different Parts of the Town.

THE younger Brother, whoſe Blood it ſeems was warmeſt, was firſt out, and it was ſcarce Day⯑light when he came within Sight of the Place ap⯑pointed; there he ſaw his Brother, as he ſuppoſed him to be, walking haſtily to and fro, as if he waited with Impatience for his coming.

[]

[237] NAY, ſays he to himſelf, I am ſure I am within the Time; however, don't be impatient, Bro⯑ther Tom, I'll be with you preſently; and with that he mended his Pace. He had not gone ma⯑ny Steps more, but he ſaw his Brother (as he ſtill thought him to be) coming forward, as if it was to meet him, and with his Sword drawn in his Hand.

YOU are mighty nimble with your Sword (ſaid he again to himſelf) what, did you think I would not give you time to draw? But how was he ſur⯑prized when he came up to him, and found it was not his Brother but his Father, and that inſtead of a Sword in his Hand he had nothing but a ſmall lit⯑tle Cane, ſuch as the old Knight generally walk'd with!

HE was the more at a ſtand, becauſe he ſuppos'd his Father was, as is ſaid above, at his Seat in the Country, above ſixty Miles off: However he was out of doubt when he not only ſaw him nearer hand, but that his Father ſpoke to him?

WHY how now Jack, ſays the old Gentleman, What, * challenge and draw upon your Father.

* When he thought he ſaw his Brother with his Sword in his Hand, he had laid his Hand on his Sword.

YOU may be ſure, Sir, ſays he, I did not ſuppoſe it was you. I don't doubt you know whom I ex⯑pected here; 'tis a poor cowardly Shift for him firſt to challenge his Brother, and then ſend you in his ſtead; you would not have done ſo your ſelf, when you was a young Man.

'TIS no time to talk now, Jack, ſays his Father, I have your Challenge here, and I am come to fight you, not to talk to you; therefore draw, ſays he, you know there's no Relation in Love; and wi [...]h that his Father draws his Sword, and advances upon him.

[238] DRAW! ſays Jack: what, and upon my Father! Heaven's forbid! no, I'll be murther'd firſt.

BUT his Father advancing again, and with a furious Countenance, as if he would indeed kill him, Jack pulls out his Sword and Scabbard, and throw⯑ing it on the Ground, cry'd out, There Sir, take it, kill me with it; for God's ſake, what do you mean?

BUT his Father as it were running upon him, Jacks turns from him, and giving a ſpring out of his Power, ſeems reſolv'd to run from him; at which his Father ſtoops, takes up his Sword, and ſtood ſtill.

THE young Gentleman, ſurpris'd and amaz'd at the Rencounter, was all in Terror and Confuſion, and knew not what to do; but going back a con⯑ſiderable Way, and obſerving that his Father was gone, as he thought, he reſolved, tho' he had no Sword, he would go the Place appointed, and ſee if his Brother was come; for he ſhould not be able to ſay he did not meet him, however he was thus ſtrangely diſarm'd.

ACCORDINGLY he went back to the Place, and ſat him down upon the Ground, waiting near two Hours there, but heard nothing of his Bro⯑ther; but as he came away again at the End of the two Hours, he found his Sword lying juſt in the Place where it was thrown down, or as near the Place as he could imagine, tho' he was ſure it was not there when he went the ſecond time by the Place.

THIS amus'd him more, and he knew not what to make of it; but he took up the Sword and went home, wondring at what the meaning of all this ſhould be.

HE had not been long at home, but his Bro⯑ther's Servant comes to his Lodging with a very civil Meſſage from the Eſquire, to know how he [239] did; and the Servant was bid to ask him from his Brother, if he had not met with ſomething extra⯑ordinary that Morning, and to tell him that he, (his Brother) was very ill, or he would ha' come to ſee him.

THE Oddneſs of the Meſſage added to the Sur⯑priſe he was in before; upon which, he call'd the Meſſenger up Stairs, and parlied with him a little thus:

WHAT'S the matter, Will? how does my Brother do?

MY Maſter gives his Service to your Wor⯑ſhip, and ſent me to know how you do.

INDEED I'm out of order a little; but how is your Maſter? what's the matter?

WHY truly, and't pleaſe your Worſhip, I don't know what's the matter; I think my Ma⯑ſter has been frighted this Morning.

FRIGHTED, Will! with what, pry'thee? your Maſter is not eaſily frighted.

WHY no, an't pleaſe you, I know he is not; but this has been ſomething extraordinary; I don't know how 'tis, for I was not with my Maſter, but they talk in the Houſe, that he has ſeen his Father, or ſeen an Apparition in the Shape of his Father.

WHY ſo have I too, Will; now you fright me indeed, for I made light of it before; why, it was my Father to be ſure.

No Sir, alas your Father! why, my old Maſter was at—in W—ſhire, and very ill in his Bed but a Friday laſt; I came from him, my Maſter ſent me to him on an Errand.

AND did you ſee him your ſelf, Will?

IF your Worſhip pleaſe to give me my Oath, I'll take my Oath I ſaw him and ſpoke with him in his Bed, and very ill he was; I hope your Wor⯑ſhip will believe I know my old Maſter?

YES, yes, you know him, no doubt, Will. I think you liv'd four Years with him, didn't you?

I dreſs'd him, and undreſs'd him five Years and a half, an't pleaſe you. I think I may ſay I know him in his Cloaths, or out of 'em.

WELL, William, and I hope you will allow that I may know my own Father too, or him I ha' call'd Father theſe thirty Years?

YES to be ſure, an't pleaſe you.

WELL then, tell my Brother, it was either my Father or the Devil; I both ſaw him, and ſpoke with him, and I'm frighted out of my Wits.

AWAY went Will with this Meſſage back to his Maſter, and his Maſter immediately goes again with Will to ſee his Brother.

AS ſoon as he came into the Room to his Bro⯑ther, he runs to him and kiſſes him; Dear Jack, ſays he, What has been the matter with us to-day? we have both play'd the Fool, but forgive me my Part, and tell me what has happen'd.

JACK receiv'd him with all the Paſſions and Tenderneſs imaginable, and they fell immediately to comparing things with one another. Will had told his Brother in general how it was, as the younger Brother had order'd him; that he had ſeen his Fa⯑ther and ſpoke to him; and now he told him all the Particulars himſelf, as I have related them above [...] and how he came at him with ſuch Fury, that he really thought he would have run him thro' the Body, and that he run away.

THE Squire related his Story much to the ſame purpoſe, How that as he was coming to the Place appointed, his Father met him, and ask'd him whi⯑ther he was going; that he put him off with a ſlight Anſwer, and told him, he was going to Ken⯑ſington to meet ſome Gentlemen there, who were to go with him to Hampton-Court.

[241] THAT upon this, his Father turn'd very angry; and I obſerv'd, ſaid he, his Face look'd as red as Fire; he ſtamp'd with his Foot, as he us'd to do when he was provok'd, and told me I put him off with a Sham; that he knew my Errand as well as I did my ſelf; that I was going to murther my younger Brother, and that he was come to ſatisfy my Fury with his Blood, and I ſhould murther him, not my Brother.

I was ſo confounded, ſaid the Eſquire, I could not ſpeak to him a good while; but recovering my ſelf a little, and going to excuſe my ſelf, he gr [...]w more angry; when I ſaid my Pretenſions were as honeſt to Mrs.—as yours were, he gave me the Lye, and indeed, Jack, I deſerv'd it; tho' I could not imagine he knew: but he told me in ſhort, that I lyed, for that I courted her to debauch her, but that you courted her honourably, to marry her, and he had given his Conſent to it.

I WAS confounded, then begg'd his Pardon; ſo he bad me go Home and be reconciled to my Bro⯑ther, or that he would talk other Language to me the next time he ſaw me; and now, dear Jack, ſays the Eſquire, I am come to ask your Pardon, not only in Obedience to my Father, but really on my own Account, for I am convinc'd I was in the wrong to you very much.

YOU may be ſure the Brothers were immediate⯑ly as good Friends as ever they were in their Lives. But ſtill Jack was uneaſy about this being the real Appearance of his Father; and his Brother's M [...]n William's Words run in his Mind all that Night; for as to this firſt Meeting, it was ſo taken up with the Ecſtaſies of their Reconciliation, that they had no time for any thing elſe.

BUT the next Morning the young Gentleman went to ſee his Brother, to return his Viſit, and talk things over again.

[242] DEAR Brother, ſays Jack, I am very uneaſy a⯑bout one Part of our Story ſtill; I am glad from my Soul that you and I are brought to underſtand one another, and I hope it ſhall never be other⯑wiſe; but I cannot be thoroughly ſatisfy'd about who it was that was the Peace-maker; if wha [...] your Man Will ſays be true, it cou'd never be my Father.

NAY, ſays his Brother, Will told me that you ſaid it was my Father, or the Devil.

WHY yes I did ſay ſo, ſays Jack, but that was to intimate my Certainty of its not being my Father; not that I ſuppos'd it was the Devil. But, pray, how long has my Father been in Town?

NAY, ſays the Eſquire, I did not know that he is in Town, but that I ſaw him I know well enough.

BUT did not you ſend Will down to him, ſays Jack, into the Country? and is it poſſible he could come up ſince that, in ſo little time?

YES, yes, he might come up, ſays the Eſquire; he often drives it in a Day and a piece, ſometimes in a Day; ſix Horſes go at a great rate, you know.

BUT pray what think you of it yourſelf? you ſaw him as well as I. Was it really my Father? Your Man Will talks that 'twas impoſſible; beſides he ſays my Father was very ill, and kept his Bed.

WILL does ſay he was much out of Order, but he did not ſay he kept his Bed; but I confeſs I never enter'd into that Diſpute in my Thoughts: 'Twas my Father ſure! What elſe could it be? As you ſaid, Brother, it muſt be my Father or the Devil.

NAY, I don't know what to ſay neither, Bro⯑ther, ſays Jack, as to its being the Devil. I believe the Devil and my Father have no manner of Cor⯑reſpondence.

[243] BESIDES, Brother, ſays the Eſquire, how ſhould the Devil owe you and I ſo much Good-will, as to concern himſelf to reconcile us? I believe he had much rather have ſeen us murther one another, as we were in a fair way to have done.

I RATHER believe, ſays Jack, he had a Hand in making us Quarrel.

AY indeed, ſo do I, ſays the Eſquire; I think, for my Part, I was mad; and, as folks commonly ſay, the Devil was in me, or I ſhould never have been ſuch a Fool.

WELL, but Brother, ſays the young Gentleman, how ſhall we come at the bottom of this Matter? we both think it was my Father, and we both think it can hardly be him neither, and we both think it was not the Devil.

AY, and, ſays the Eſquire, if it ſhould not be my Father nor the Devil neither, what ſhall we ſay then?

WHY that, indeed, makes me ſo impatient to have it out: now I'll tell you one thing which allarms me a little too; I have ſent to Mr.—'s where you know my Father always lodges, and to the Black-Swan-Yard, where you know his Coach ſtands, and they all ſay he is not in Town, and that he is to be in Town about ſix Weeks hence.

WHY that's extraordinary too, I confeſs, ſays the Eſquire; I never thought of it, becauſe I ne⯑ver entertain'd any Jealouſy of this kind, it was quite out of my Head; but, upon my Word, you make me very uneaſy about it now.

FOR my part, ſays his younger Brother, I would give any thing to come to a Certainty about it, I cou'd almoſt take my Horſe, and go down on pur⯑poſe.

I'LL go with you, with all my Heart, ſays the Eſquire.

[244] TO bring the Matter to a concluſion, the two Brothers agreed, and they went both away to ſee their Father. The very Day they took Horſe to go down, but ſome Hours after they were gone, a Letter came in to the elder Brother's Houſe from their Father; the Contents of which I ſhall take Notice of preſently.

AND firſt I am to obſerve that when they came to their Father they found him at home, and ve⯑ry ill, nor had he been from home; and was great⯑ly concern'd for the Safety of his Sons, upon the following Occaſion.

THE Night before he wrote the Letter, ſpoken of above, he was ſurpriz'd in his Sleep with a Dream, or rather a Viſion, that his two Sons had fallen out about a Miſtreſs; that they had Quar⯑rell'd to that degree, that they had challeng'd one another, and were gone out into the Fields to fight; but that ſome body had given him Notice of it, and that he had got up in the Morning by four a Clock to meet and prevent them.

UPON this Dream he awak'd in great Diſorder and Terror; however finding it but a Dream he had compos'd his Mind, and gotten to ſleep again: but that he dream'd it again in ſo lively a man⯑ner, that he was forc'd to call up his Man that waited on him to ſit up the reſt of the Night with him; and he was frighted, and much out of order with the Fright.

That, in Conſequence of this Dream, he had ſent a Servant up Expreſs, with Orders to ride Night and Da [...], to enquire how his Sons did, and to bring him word if there had been any ſuch breach among them; and earneſtly to preſs them, if ſuch a breach had been, that they would conſent to let him mediate between them, that it might go no farther 'till he could come up, that ſo he might put an end to their Reſentments, and make Peac [...] [245] among them, according to his Dreams: and this was the Letter, mention'd above, that came to Hand in a few Hours after they were ſet out.

IT cannot be doubted but it was very con⯑founding to his Sons to hear the Account their Father gave them of his Dream, or Viſion rather, about their Quarrel; and it was equally amazing to ſee it confirm'd by all the true Particulars; alſo that the old Gentleman, to be ſure, had been ſo far from being at London, that he had ſcarce been a whole Day off from his Bed.

THEY conferr'd together ſeriouſly upon the private Queſtion, (viz.) whether they ſhould tell their Father the Story of their Quarrel, but eſpecially of their ſeeing him ſeverally, and his really parting them, or preventing their fight⯑ing.

UPON the whole, they concluded not to let their Father know of his Likeneſs (as they call'd it) appearing to them, leſt it might diſquiet him too much; and for the reſt, as they were perfectly re⯑concil'd again, they ſaid there was no manner of Occaſion to mention it at all; ſo they only paid their Compliment as a Viſit of Duty, to ſee how he did, and to ask his Bleſſing; Will having told them that he was out of Order: and as for his Letter, they could happily tell him they had not ſeen it.

ACCORDING to this Reſolution they per⯑form'd the Ceremony of Viſiting their Father, and made haſte away again, that they might converſe the more freely about this ſtrange Conjunction of Circumſtances, which had in it ſo many things ſurprizing to their Thoughts, and even to their Un⯑derſtandings; for they knew not what to make of it, nor, indeed, could they reſolve it into any thing but this, which is to my purpoſe exactly, and which is the reaſon of my mentioning the whole [246] Story, namely, that here was a double Apparition within the compaſs of our propos'd Syſtem.

1. HERE was the Apparition of the living Per⯑ſon of their Father, without his participation in the Action; his Face, Voice, and, perhaps, Habit was aſſum'd, and yet he himſelf knew nothing of the Matter, was not in the leaſt concerned in it, or acquainted with it.

2. HERE was an Apparition to the Father in Dream; 'twas a plain Viſion, the thing that was true in Fact was reveal'd to him in his Sleep, which is the very Subject I am now ſpeaking of. The Sons were repreſented, or appear'd to him, Quar⯑relling, and in a ſtate of Feud, as they really were, and yet neither of them knew any thing of the Matter.

FROM hence (ſuppoſing the Reality of the Story) it neceſſarily follows that a Spirit or inviſible Be⯑ing, let it be call'd what we pleaſe, may take upon it the Shape, Face, Voice of any living Perſon, whom it pleaſes to repreſent, without the Knowledge, Conſent, or Concurrence of the Perſon ſo repre⯑ſented, in any manner whatſoever.

AND from hence alſo it is evident that Dreams are ſometimes to be call'd, and really are, Appariti⯑ons, as much as thoſe other viſible Apparitions which are ſeen when we are (as we call it) broad awake; that Apparition is to the Eyes of the Soul, and as it is ſo, it may be ſeen as well ſleeping as waking, for the Imagination ſleeps not: the Soul ceaſes in⯑deed to act organically, but it ceaſes not to act as a Soul, and in a ſpirituous Manner, and conſe⯑quently can act upon ſpirituous Objects; and that as well in Sleep as at any other time.

I COULD load this Account with Story, for Example is frequent in theſe Caſes, and I am forc'd to leave out ſome which are very good, and would be entertaining, becauſe they are too [247] [...]edious for the Work; beſides, I am not preten⯑ding to write a Collection of old Stories, if I did I ſhould call it a Hiſtory of all the Chimney-Cor⯑ners in the three Kingdoms. However, I muſt not leave you barren of Examples neither in Ca⯑ſ [...] ſo pregnant; take one more which my Author aſſures me was never in Print.

A CERTAIN Lady of good Figure and ſome Quality, had a terrible Quarrel with her Husband upon the great and critical Points of Virtue and Honour; he was a Gentleman of publick Buſineſs, and paſs'd for a Man of Senſe; but had that par⯑ticular Infirmity, which with me will always paſs for a deficiency in the Underſtanding; I mean to be jealous of his Wife, and yet to be able to fix nothing upon her, no not ſo much as a juſt blot upon her Converſation.

'TIS very hard for a Man to be Fool enough to diſquiet himſelf on ſuch an Account, and not be Knave enough to make it uneaſy to his Wife too; I ſay Knave, becauſe where there is no juſt cauſe of Reproach, he cannot be an honeſt Man that loads his Wife with the Scandal of it.

HE had thought fit to uſe her very ill upon this Subject many times, with no manner of Foun⯑dation, nay, indeed, not ſo much as a pretence for it, except what was to be fetch'd from his own bewildred Imagination; and he gave himſelf up ſo much to his Jealouſy, without grounds, that his Wife was oblig'd to lay her Condition before ſome of her Relations, who took upon them to talk with him about it.

THIS talking with him had a worſe Effect than was expected, for the Man was ſo far from being influenced by the friendly Expoſtulations of his Wife's Kindred, that he grew rude and abuſive to them; and if any one of them ſpoke a little war⯑mer than ordinary in her favour, he turn'd it preſently [248] upon that Perſon, as if he had been the Man, and had been naught with her; and yet when one of them challeng'd him to give any one Inſtance of his Wife's Conduct, or of any Perſon's aſſociating with her in a manner as ſhou'd give an honeſt Man the leaſt grounds of ſuſpicion, he could not aſſign the leaſt Reaſon; but as is moſt true in or⯑dinary, that thoſe who are the moſt Jealous have oftentimes the leaſt Cauſe for it, ſo it was here; yet notwithſtanding all the Expoſtulations that were, or could be uſed with him, the cooleſt Rea⯑ſonings and moſt friendly Perſuaſions, he continued to uſe his Wife ſo ill, that her Friends began to think it neceſſary to part them.

THE Lady, a Woman of Piety as well as Vir⯑tue, tho' griev'd heartily with the ill Uſage, and particularly as it reproach'd her Virtue, yet was loath to unhinge her Family and ſeparate from her Husband, having alſo two Children which ſhe could not part with, her Affection not ſuffering her to leave them to want the Care and Conduct of a Mother; ſo ſhe choſe rather to bear his daily ill Uſage of her, than to leave her Family.

BUT he carried the Bruitiſh Part ſo far at length, that not content to uſe her in the moſt ſcandalous manner with his Tongue, he fell upon her with his Hands, and two or three times, in his Rage, abus'd her very much: ſhe conceal'd this part (for his ſake) as much as ſhe could, and endeavour'd to prevent its being known.

BUT he took care to expoſe himſelf in it up⯑on many Occaſions, and particularly by affronting a Gentleman of his own Acquaintance, and ſome Relation to him too: the Caſe was thus; He fell to charging his Wife with diſhoneſty in his or⯑dinary Diſcourſe, and before Strangers; upon which the Gentleman ſaid, Fye, Couſin, really I believe you wrong her, at leaſt you ſhould be very ſure [249] you were in the right before you talk'd ſo; your Lady has a general Character of an honeſt, modeſt and virtuous Woman; and I am told ſhe is a very pious and religious Perſon alſo.

AT this he flew out in a Paſſion, and ſaid, D—her, he was ſatisfy'd ſhe was a Whore.

BUT, Couſin, ſays the Gentleman, then I ſup⯑poſe you know the Perſon too, and could prove the Fact!

HE believ'd he did, he ſaid.

NAY, you ought to be very ſure of it, Couſin, ſays he, before you charge your Wife ſo poſi⯑tively.

HE anſwer'd, without any manner of Reſpect to his Couſin, I believe you are the Man; and adds, I take it for granted.

WHAT Suſpicion, ſays the Gentleman, did I ever give you of it? I was never in your Wife's Com⯑pany in my Life, but when you were preſent.

'TIS no matter for that, ſays he, if you were not guilty, why ſhould you concern yourſelf to vindicate her?

THE Gentleman, tho' greatly provok'd, kept his Temper ſtill, and ſmil'd at him; Couſin, ſays he, I doubt you have no better Argument to prove your Wife's Guilt than you have mine, and if you han't, ſhe's as inno [...]nt as a ſucking Child.

HIS Smiling provok'd him, and he gave the Gentleman the Lie, and added ſome very ſcurrilous Language to it, ſuch as might be expected from a Mad-man, a Man out of himſelf; not by Luna⯑cy, as a Diſt [...]mper, but by that worſe Frenzy, call'd groundleſs Jealouſy.

AS giving the Lie is the laſt Injury one Man can do to another with his Tongue, it ſo provok'd his Couſin, that ſcorning to draw his Sword up⯑on him, he corrected him heartily for it with his Cane, as he deſerv'd; and he again, like a true Coward, [250] (when they were go [...]) reveng'd himſelf upon hi [...] Wife; for he abus'd her again in a bruitiſh and bar⯑barous Manner: nor did it pacify him at all that he vented his Rage thus upon his Wife at that time; but he continued it upon every Occaſion of his being harraſs'd with his own Jealouſy: and when-ever he abus'd his Wife after that time, he upbraided her with this Gentleman, and with her ſtill keeping him Company; tho', as it appear'd afterwards, the Gen⯑tleman was not in England, nor had been for ſeve⯑ral Months.

IT happened one time in particular, that coming home, not at all in Drink, but very much out of Humour, and, as it ſeem'd, provok'd, tho' it could not be ſo much as gueſs'd at, what the Reaſon was, he pick'd a Quarrel with his Wife, and without any other Provocation than what was to be found in his own want of Temper, fell foul of her in a moſt un⯑merciful manner; and had not Help been fetch'd in 'twas fear'd he would have murther'd her. In a Word, Neighbours coming in to her reſcue, ſaved her from farther Miſchief; yet before them all he bad her go out of the Houſe, and forbid her com⯑ing any more within his Doors.

THE Lady could not now avoid what ſhe had ſo long been perſuaded to before; ſo taking ſome Cloaths, and her own Jewels, which ſhe brought to him, ſhe withdrew the ſame Evening to her own Brother's Houſe, taking ſufficient Witneſs of the occaſion of it.

BUT to bring this Story nearer to the Caſe in Hand: The Gentleman whom he had thus ill us'd, had (on ſome occaſions of his own) been oblig'd a⯑bout five Months before this laſt Broil to go over to Germany; and as he went from England by Sea and landed at H [...]mburgh, he travell'd from Ham⯑burgh up to Magdeburgh, and from thence to Leip⯑ſick in Saxony.

[251] AS he was ſitting alone in a Summer-Houſe as we call it, or Garden-Houſe, as they more properly call it there, belonging to a Burgher of Leipſick, and reading a Book to divert himſelf, being in the heat of the Day, and a little after Dinner; he dropt aſleep, and dream'd that a Lady was come from England to ſpeak with him, and was in the Houſe waiting for him.

UPON this Dream, and being not very ſound aſleep, only leaning his Head on his Hand as he was reading, he wak'd; and as ſoon as he wak'd he ſtarted up, and intended to go into the Houſe to ſee who it ſhould be, when immediately he ſees a Lady in an Engliſh dreſs coming up the Garden towards the Summer-Houſe.

HE did not know her at firſt; but when ſhe came nearer ſhe ſpoke to him; he calling her by her Name, would have ſaluted her; but ſhe ſeem'd to decline it, and ſtepping back, ſaid, You and I, Sir, have been ſufficiently abus'd upon that Head already; and I come to you for Juſtice. I am ill us'd, and in danger of being murther'd every Day by my cruel Husband on your Account, and am at laſt turn'd out of Doors.

ALAS! ſays he, Madam, he is a Brutiſh Man, and I am very ſorry; but what can I do for you?

YOU know my Innocence, ſays ſhe, as far as re⯑lates to yourſelf; do me juſtice, I ask no more: and that moment ſhe diſappear'd.

HE was extremely ſurpriz'd, as he might well be indeed; and the more, becauſe he had not the leaſt notion of its being an Apparition, no more had the Burgher's Servant who let her in at the Door, and waited on her up the Garden to the Summer-Houſe.

HE went immediately back into the Houſe, and enquir'd who let the Lady into the Houſe; and the Servant that had uſher'd her up the Walk in [252] the Garden told him he did; and alſo that he had that Minute let her out again; but looking out into the Street, nothing of her could be ſeen again, or did he ever ſee or hear any more of her in that manner.

WHILE this paſs'd, the Lady liv'd a very me⯑lancholly retir'd Life in her Brother's Family, ſeeing no Company, and ſpending her time in a moſt un⯑comfortable Solitude; eſpecially grieved for the Re⯑proach ſo cauſeleſly rais'd upon her Character, and having nothing to comfort her but the knowledge of her own Innocence; that which we call the Comfort of a good Conſcience: which, as the World goes now, I muſt be cautious how I lay too much ſtreſs upon, or moralize too much upon, leſt I ſhould be call'd Religious and Grave, which is as much as to ſay Mad.

THIS Separation continu'd ſome time; all en⯑deavours to bring it to a Reconciliation had been try'd, but prov'd ineffectual; the Husband continu⯑ing inſolently abuſive to his Wife; and his Wife (Things being carry'd to ſuch a height) inſiſting upon a Reparation of the Injury offer'd to her Re⯑putation, by having either the Facts prov'd, or a due Cauſe of Suſpicion aſſigned. Between both, a Reconciliation ſeem'd impracticable, and Friends on both ſides having done their utmoſt, began to give it over.

BUT, to the agreeable ſurprize of all that wiſh'd well to the Family, the Husband comes one Morn⯑ing to his Wife's Brother all alone, and ask'd to ſpeak with his Wife.

HER Brother was a litttle doubtful at firſt what Anſwer to give him; and particularly was afraid to bring his Siſter forth to him, not knowing what the Devil and an exaſperated Temper might prompt him to; and he perceiving it, ſaid, with a quite differing Tone from what he us'd to talk with, [253] You need not be afraid, Brother, to let me ſee my Wife, tho' indeed I have given you all Cauſe e⯑nough to be uneaſy; but I aſſure you I will ſoon ſatisfy you that I do not come to do her any harm, but juſt the contrary: I come to put an end to all this wicked Breach, and that in a manner as ſhall be to your Satisfaction, and hers too; and I am very willing you ſhall be preſent when I ſpeak to her, for I deſire you ſhould hear what I have to ſay.

HE ſpoke it with ſuch an apparent Alteration in his Temper, that it was eaſy to ſee that he was quite another Man, and that there was no hazard in letting him ſee her: ſo he went and acquainted his Wife with what had paſs'd; who tho' ſhe was a little afraid at firſt, yet upon her Brother's perſua⯑ſions came down, and her Brother led her into the Room to him, in his Hand.

AS ſoon as he ſaw his Wife, he run to her, and took her in his Arms and kiſs'd her, holding her faſt; but was not able to ſpeak a word for ſome time. At laſt getting a little vent of his Paſſion, My Dear, ſays he, I have wrong'd and abus'd you; and I come to acknowledge it in as publick a man⯑ner as poſſible I can. I come to ask you Pardon for it, and am ready to declare my full ſatisfaction of your Innocence, in as open a manner as ever the Devil and my own ungovern'd Paſſion inflam'd me againſt you. Make your own Demands what Satis⯑faction I ſhall make you, and what Security I ſhall give you, that you ſhall have no more ſuch Treat⯑ment, I am ready to comply with them; and go home with me, if you dare truſt me. The Moment I break my Promiſe to you in the leaſt Circum⯑ſtance, you ſhall freely remove again without the leaſt hindrance, or the leaſt Contradiction from me: in the mean time depend upon it, you ſhall never have any occaſion of uneaſineſs given you, and as long as I live I will acknowledge, when ever you deſire [254] it, that I did you wrong, and that you gave me no juſt occaſion for what has paſs'd.

HE ſpoke this with ſo much Affection, and even with Tears in hi [...] Eyes, that he forc'd Tears not from his Wi [...]e only, but from her Brother too, and another Relation of hers that was in the Room with them. In a word, the Reconciliation was made in a few Minutes; for he not only comply'd with any thing his Wife or her Brother deſir'd, but even more than they ask'd; and when they propos'd that, to prevent Miſtakes afterwards, he would conſent they ſhould put into Writing what they deſir'd, and what he had ſaid to her, He call'd for a Pen and Ink, and drew it out himſelf in the fulleſt Terms imaginable, to the ſame purpoſe as has been related, and fuller indeed than they could deſire, and ſet his Hand to it, deſiring the Brother and the other Relation to be Witneſſes of it, and then gave it to his Wife.

UPON this his Wife with a glad Heart went home that very Night along with him, her Bro⯑ther and the other Relation being invited to go alſo, which they did; where he entertain'd them very kindly at Supper, which finiſh'd the Recon⯑ciliation, and they liv'd very comfortably together ever after.

BUT now for the Reaſon and Occaſion of all this; and whence this ſtrange Alteration proceeded: To this purpoſe, you are to underſtand that one Evening this Gentleman being either in his Cham⯑ber, or ſome other Room in his Houſe, (the Story is not particular in that part) he ſees his Couſin, who had differ'd with him about his Wife, come into the Room, and ſays to him, Couſin, I am very ſorry to hear you have continu'd to uſe your Wife ill, and at laſt have turn'd her away upon my Ac⯑count. I come on purpoſe to admoniſh you to re⯑pent of the Injury you have done her, for ſhe is Innocent, [255] and you know you have injur'd her; as for the Wrong you do me, I am out of your reach: But fetch your Wife home, and reconcile your ſelf to her, or I ſhall viſit you again much leſs to your Satisfaction than I do now.

HE gave him no time for a Reply, but imme⯑diately diſappear'd. It may be eaſily gueſs'd what a Conſternation he was left in, when he found it was [...]n Apparition. He concluded his Couſin was dead, becauſe he ſaid he was out of his reach; and he concluded that this was his Ghoſt, or his diſquieted Soul, and he dreaded the threatning of his Return. He endeavoured to wear it off of his Mind, but it [...]onld not do; the Impreſſion to be ſure would be [...]trengthned by his own Guilt, and both together [...]rought him to himſelf.

FOR this is to be obſerv'd in all ſuch things, viz. That it is not the Fright or the Surprize that works [...]n the Mind, but the Conviction; and therefore [...]ho' this is one of thoſe Relations which I do not [...]ake upon me to aſſert the fact of from my own [...]nowledge, yet ſuppoſing it to be true, the Moral [...]s the ſame, and on that Account I relate it, viz. That there may be an Apparition of a Perſon [...]iving; and yet the Perſon living, and ſo ſeeming [...]o appear, not know any thing of it, or be any [...]ay concern'd in it; and ſo in this Story now told, [...]t is imply'd, that the Lady here was living when [...]he appear'd to the Gentleman in Germany, and that [...]he Gentleman in Germany was living when he ap⯑ [...]ear'd to his Couſin in London, whatever manner they [...]ppear'd in; and yet it ſeems that neither of them [...]new any thing of the matter, and doubtleſs had [...]o concern at all in it.

I HAVE not been able to dive ſo far into this [...]tory, as to ſay, that they were ever enquired of [...]fterward, whether they were acquainted with the Circumſtances or no; but I am indifferent as to that [256] Point, it is out of Queſtion with me, that they might not be any way concern'd in the thing it ſelf, and yet that it might be really an Apparition of the Perſons, their Faces, Voices, Cloaths, and all the needful Apparatus fit for the Deluſion.

THERE are many Inſtances of like kind with this, and I have a very particular Relation by me of a Perſon who in Apparition told a Friend of his, of the Fire of London, two Months before [...]t happen'd, mention'd the manner of the Confl [...]gra⯑tion, how it would begin in the Heart of the Ci [...], and would burn Eaſt and Weſt, and lay the City level with the Ground; to uſe the very words.

HE happen'd not to tell the Place exactly where it was to have been done; if he had, he might have been afterwards brought into Trouble, by the un⯑adviſed relating the Particulars; for his Friend be⯑lieved he really ſaw him; and not that it was an Ap⯑parition: But it ſeems he made a long Religious Excurſion upon the diſmal Condition of the Citi⯑zens, and how their Pride would be brought low; how their Glory would be laid in the Duſt; and how it was all to be look'd upon as a Blow upon them for their Luxury, and for their publick Sins; and ſo ſeem'd to preach pretty [...]much: And you know if Spirits from the other World were to preach, ſome People have ſuch an Averſion to that dull heavy Buſineſs, as they call it, that they would give very little heed to it. I ſay, the Apparition ſeem'd to preach pretty much upon the Subject, and ſo the Friend began to be weary of the Diſcour [...], and put him off to ſomething elſe.

THAT which ſeems Particular in this Story, and which (had I room here) would take up ſome time to Diſcourſe upon at large, is, that the Apparition went off in Form, not diſcovering it ſelf ſo much as to be an Apparition; but came in at the Do [...]r, was let in by a Servant in the uſual manner, aft [...]r [257] knocking at the Door, and was carry'd into the Parlor among the Family; that it diſcours'd of other Matters alſo; as of the Dutch War, and the bloody Engagement at Sea: I do not remember exactly, whether it ſaid a bloody Engagement had been, or would be; but I think it was Engage⯑ment that had lately been.

THAT there were ſeveral other Tranſitions in their Diſcourſe, from one Article of publick Buſi⯑neſs to another; and at laſt to that of the Fire of London: The Gentleman who it was diſcours'd to ſeem'd not to be much concern'd at the Prediction about the Fire, looking upon it as a piece of gueſs⯑work, and that his Friend ſpoke it as of a thing which he fear'd, rather than as a thing he foretold, and pretended to know of: But after the Terrible Conflagration had happen'd, and that the City was indeed laid low from the Eaſt to the Weſt, as had been mention'd, then all the Particulars came into his Mind with ſome weight, and ſome unuſual reflection; for the Circumſtances were too evident to be ſlightly thought of.

HOWEVER it paſs'd over in the ordinary way, with a little kind of wonder; and it was ſtrange that Mr. M—ſhould be able to talk ſo; and ſure Mr. M—deals with the Devil, and the like; whereas all this while Mr. M—knew nothing of the Story; and whatever Hand it was, and for whatever kind purpoſes, no notice was taken of it, and Mr. M—had ſo little knowledge of it himſelf that his own Houſe was burnt down in the gene⯑ral diſaſter, and he had hardly time to ſave one quarter part of his Goods.

IT might indeed be form'd here as an Objection againſt this Notion, of good [...]pi [...]ts from the Inſivi⯑ble World, and their concerni [...]g them [...]e [...]ves in giving Notices of appro [...]ching Miſc [...]i [...]s, viz. That they do not concern themſelves to give ſuch Notices in [258] Caſes of publick Calamities, when many thouſands not of Perſons only, but even of Families, are con⯑cerned, and in danger; and even where many par⯑ticular Perſons, who at other times have had ſuch warnings from them, and have been as it were their Particular care, have been left to fall in the com⯑mon diſaſter.

THIS is what I may take notice of again, in its proper place; but at preſent I am rather ob⯑ſerving to you what is, than the Reaſon of its being ſo: The ways and works of Providence are Sove⯑reign and Superiour; the Manner conceal'd, and be⯑yond our Underſtandings and Reaſon; not always viſible to us; and yet its Proceedings not the le [...] juſt, or the leſs to be accounted for in themſelves; nor is it neceſſary that we ſhould be always able to account for them to our ſelves. Heaven has its own Reaſons for all its Actings, and it is not for us to diſpute its Sovereignty, any more than to examin [...] into the Reaſon of its working. The Biſhop of Dow [...], the Pious and Devout Doctor Jeremy Taylor, in the Caſe of an Apparition yet to be ſpoken of, would needs have the Perſon it appear'd to ask this Que⯑ſtion when it came again, Why he appear'd, or how he come to appear in ſo ſmall a matter, as that of doing Juſtice to one ſingle Child, when ſo many oppreſs'd Widows and Orphans groan'd under the weight of greater Injuri [...]s, without any of their Relations concerning themſelves in the leaſt for their Deliverance? and the Man did accordingly ask the Queſtion, as we ſhall ſee in its place; but had no anſwer given him, as indeed I think he [...] ought not to have expected: but of this hereafter.

IT is certain the approach of that Terrible Fire, the like of which was never known in this part of th [...] World, was not diſcover'd from the In [...]iſible World; at leaſt but to very few: an evident token that de⯑parted Souls knew nothing of it, or, if they did [...] [259] had no Power to come hither, and give notice of it; if they had, what Numbers of Predictions, Forebodings and Apparitions would there have been in the City for ſome Months before!

BUT are we not anſwer'd by the Scripture, and might we not reply in the Language of our Saviour ſpeaking of the general Deluge, Matt. xxiv. 38, 39. For as in the days that were before the flood, they wer [...] [...]ating and drinking, marrying, and giving in marriage, until the day that Noe entred into the Ark, and knew not until the flood came, and took them all away; ſo ſhall alſo the coming of the Son of Man be?

JUST ſo likewiſe was it at the time of the Fire of London: 'tis ſaid indeed, with ſome Remark, that it was not a Wedding Night to many, if to any one Couple in the City; becauſe the Fire beginning on the Sunday Morning, very few, if any, are ſaid to be marry'd of a Saturday; but as it was a mighty Cu⯑ſtom in thoſe Days to marry on a Sunday, ſo there were a great many Weddings appointed for the next Morning, which were hinder'd without any forebodings or foreknowledge; and that which was infinitely worſe, many Women in Travel that very Night, were, as it was reported, forc'd to be carry'd out of their Chambers in the very Article of Child-Birth, and ſome as I have heard were de⯑liver'd in the very Paſſage from one Houſe to ano⯑ther: Others, not thinking the Fire would follow ſo faſt, having remov'd but a little way, their extremity being great, were oblig'd to be remov'd again; yet we find no notice of any of theſe things given in the lea [...]t.

THIS indeed is what I ſ [...]y we cannot account for, neither is there any need for us t [...] account for them in the Diſcourſe we are upon; for our Queſti⯑on is not, Why there are no more Notices given than there are, and why they are not univerſal to on [...] as well as another; as if it were a Grace M [...]n [260] ought to have an equal Claim to: But 'tis a Pro⯑poſition that ſuch Apparitions there are, and that therefore there are certain Agents ſo appointed to appear.

WE have like Accounts to theſe at the time of the great Maſſacre at Paris; a critical Juncture, in which the Rage of Hell ſeem'd to be carry'd to a terrible Height, and when innocent Blood lay ready to be ſpilt in a terrible manner; the Unguar⯑ded Proteſtants having no Means to avoid the Miſ⯑chiefs that a [...]tended them, and no Strength to reſiſt the Power of the Cut-throat Armies which ſur⯑rounded them; ſo they had no Intimations from the inviſible World to aſſiſt their Eſcape.

BUT what does this amount to, any more than the like Caſes may argue in a thouſand Calami⯑ties and Diſaſters which have befallen Mankind be⯑fore? Nay, it confirms the grand Truth which I have inſiſted on; namely, that Souls departed know not any thing, and can communicate nothing, tho' unembody'd Spirit may.

FOR could the departed Souls of deceas'd Relati⯑ons have known that their Fathers, or Children, or Brothers, or Relicts, &c. were the next Day to have been murther'd, can we doubt but they would have given them all the N [...]tice that it was in their Power to do, and at leaſt have alarm'd them ſo, as to put them upon their Gua [...]d, and give them an Oppo [...]unity to die like Hero's, as many of them were? and as they did not do thus, I think, without Injuſtice, or Preſumption, we may con⯑clude they cannot; they could not then, neither can others do the like now.

AND yet as to ſuch Notices as the Inhabitants of the invi [...]le World were allow'd to make, I believe they w [...] not without them at that time, tho' it was not thought fit by the Appointment of Heaven to have the wicked Reſolution of Murther [261] and Maſſacre defeated: as to the Reaſons why, which is what we have nothing to d [...] to diſpute, that we leave in Silence, as we may well do.

THE Hiſtories of thoſe Times are full of the ſecret Warnings and Notices then given by the kind Apparitions of thoſe inviſible Agents (whoever they are) in Dream. The Admiral Coligni had no l [...]ſs than three particular Notices given him by Dreams, that his Life was in danger, and that he would be murther'd if he ſtay'd in Paris; an Expreſs was ſent him from the Count S—, at S [...]umur, to make his Eſcape and flee for his Life before it was too late; nay, it was even ſaid that the King of Navarr, who was afterwards Hen. IV. ſent a private Meſſage to him to be gone, and if he ſtaid one Night longer he would find it impoſſible: But, as they ſaid afterwards, his Hour was come, and his Fate was det [...]rmin'd; and he was de [...]f to his Friends, for ſeveral others who h [...]d a J [...]alouſy of his Danger, gave him like War [...]i [...]gs, but it was all in vain, he was deaf and indolent to his own Safety.

SOME others who were more obedient to the heavenly Viſion, more toucht then with the Senſe of their Danger, as the Count de Montgomery, the Vidame of Chartres, de Caverſac, and others, too many to name; and who had ſeverally, and ſome of them jointly, timely Warning of their Danger, mounted their Horſes, and fled the very Night b [...]fore, and preventing the vigilance of their Purſu [...]rs, m [...]de their Eſcap [...].

I MIGHT here enlarge upon the Probability of this as a Maxim, that tho' theſe Spirits may have leave to give ſuch Notice and ſuch Warnings to ſ [...]me particular Perſons for the ſaving their Lives, yet we are not to ſuppoſe 'tis plac'd in their Power to contravene the Determination of H [...]aven, and [262] to act contrary to Appointments of his Providence, eſpecially in things of general Import, ſuch as pub⯑lick Judgments, which are immediately in the diſ⯑poſing of his Power, and not to be diſappointed or delay'd.

BESIDES, as w [...] may have Reaſon to believe that they all act by Commiſſion, 'tis alſo moſt cer⯑tain that they cannot go an lnch, no not a Hair's br [...]adth beyond that Commiſſion, or ſtep one Foot out of the Way of it, to the right Hand, or to the left: and thence we are to infer that they do not give farther or more frequent Notices to us, becauſe they are not p [...]rmitted; and this is, beſides the reſt, adding a greater Reverence to the thing itſelf; for take off their ſuperior Commiſſion, and I know not what we ſhould ſay to them, or of what real Notice or Value they would be.

I CANNOT but ſay that there were many No⯑tices given of the Calamity of the Pariſian Maſ⯑ſacre, which were enough to have allarm'd the Proteſtants; and the Chiefs of them were, in ſome Meaſure, allarm'd; tho' not ſufficient, as it prov'd, to drive them out of the Danger; yet ſo as that they did p [...]rceive ſome Miſchief was hatching, but they could not poſſibly gueſs at the manner; and beſides if they had, the other Par [...]y had gotten them ſo far in their Power that they could not avoid the Danger, but were taken (as it were) in a Toil; and yet they did ſ [...]d ſ [...]ch Notices of their Danger to their Friends in ſ [...]v [...]ral Places, as to warn them in time to be up [...]n their Guard; and which Warning did (ſpeaking [...]f ſecond Cauſes) preſerve them from the like Miſchief; for the Maſſacre was intended to be Univerſal, at leaſt in [...]ll the Citi [...]s in France.

CHAP. XII. Of Apparitions being ſaid to happen juſt at the time when the Perſon ſo happening to appear is ſaid to be departing; the Fiction of it confuted.

THERE is a great Clamour, as I might juſtly call it, rais'd about Peoples appearing juſt at the time of their expiring; and ſo exactly t [...]ey will tell us it, as to time, as if, tho' a thouſand Mile off, the Soul was in Apparition the ſame Moment. I ſee no foundation for any of theſe Relations, much leſs for the Circumſtances; and yet the Apparition it ſelf may be really true in Fact: ſuch a Man appear'd to his Wife, ſuch another to his Son, and the like; and they ſet down the time, adding, and that very Mo⯑ment, as near as could be calculated, he died, perhaps in the Eaſt-Indies, or at Sea at ſome vaſt diſtance.

A CERTAIN Lady of my Acquaintance going out of her Chamber into a Cloſet in the adjoining Room, ſaw her Husband walking along in the Room before her: She immediately comes down in a great ſurprize, tells the Family ſhe had ſeen her Husband, and ſhe was ſure it was he; tho' at the ſame time ſhe knew her Husband (who was the Com⯑mander of a Ship) was at Sea, on a Voyage to or from the Capes of Virginia.

THE Family takes the Alarm, and tells her, that to be ſure her Husband was dead, and that ſhe ſhould be ſure to ſet down the Day of the Month, and the Hour of the Da [...]; and it was ten thouſand [264] to one but ſhe ſhould find that he died that very Moment, or as near as could be found out.

ABOUT two Months after her Husband comes home very well; but had an Accident befell him in his Voyage, viz. that ſtepping into the Boat, or out of the Boat, he fell into the Sea, and was in danger of being loſt; and this they Calculated upon to be as near the time as they could judge, that he appear'd to his Wife. Now if this was his Ghoſt, or Apparition of his Soul, in the Article of Death, it ſeems his Soul was miſtaken, and did not know whether it was diſmiſs'd or no; which is a little ſtrange, I muſt confeſs: but of that hereafter.

Sir Jo—O—was a P [...]rſ [...]n of Note, and of well known Credit; his Lady and one of her Sons liv'd here in London; and being of a gay Diſ⯑poſition, and given to live h [...]gh and exp [...]nſive, it was thought ſhe ſpent beyond what the Knight could afford, and that he was ſenſible of it, and uneaſie at it: She had a very good Houſe in London, and a Country Houſe or Lodgings for the Summer at—and kept a great Equipage; the Conſe⯑quence of things did at laſt prove, that Sir J—'s diſlike of it was juſtly founded: but that's by the by.

IT happen'd one Day, the L [...]y being at her Country Lodgings, a Pe [...]ſon well dreſs [...]d, appearing very much like a Gentleman, came to her City Houſe, and knocking at the D [...]r, ask'd the Maid if there were any Lodgings to be let there, and if her Lady was at home; the Maid anſwer'd No, there were no Lodgings to Le [...]t there; and ſpeak⯑ing as if it was with ſome [...]ſen [...]ment, Lodgings! ſays ſhe, no, I think not! my Lady does not uſe to Lett Lodgings. Well but Sweet [...]eart, ſays he, don't be diſpleas'd, your Lady h [...]s ha [...] ſome thoughts of [...]aying at her Summer Lodgings all the Winter, [265] and ſo would diſpoſe of ſome Apartments here for the Parliament Seaſon; and I am directed by her ſelf to look upon the Rooms, and give my Anſwer; let me but juſt ſee them, Child, I ſhall do you no harm: ſo he ſtep'd in, and as it were puſh'd by her, going into the firſt Parlour, and ſat down in an eaſy Chair, his Servant ſtaying at the Door; and as the Maid did not apprehend any Miſchief, ſhe went in after him; for he did not look like one that came with an ill Deſign, or to rob the Houſe; but look'd like a Gentleman that could have no⯑thing of ſuch a kind in his View; ſo I ſay ſhe went in after him.

WHEN ſhe came in he roſe up, and looking a⯑bout the Room, he found fault with every thing, the Furniture, and the manner of it, nothing pleas'd him; not as if not good enough for him, but that all was too good, and too rich, far above her Qua⯑lity that own'd it; That the Lady did not know what ſhe did, that it was an Expence ſhe could not carry on, and her Eſtate would not ſupport it; but that ſuch a way of living would bring all the Fa⯑mily to Rui [...] and Beggary, and the like.

BY and by ſhe carried him into another Parlour, and there he did juſt the ſame; he told her he ad⯑mir'd what her Lady meant; that ſhe liv'd in a Figure which Sir John's Eſtate could never main⯑tain, and ſhe would but ruin him, and bring him into Debt, and ſo he would be undone by her Ex⯑travagance.

UPON this the Maid begun to take him ſhort a little, and told him, this was all out of the way of what he came about; if the Lodgings were too good for him, that was his Buſineſs indeed, but elſe he had nothing to do with her Lady, and how ſhe pleas'd to furniſh her Houſe: That her Maſter was a Gentleman of a great Eſtate, and had large Plantations [266] in Jamaica; that he conſtantly ſupply'd her Lady with Money, ſufficient [...]or her Support, and for all her Expences; and ſhe wonder'd he ſhould trouble h [...]mſelf with that, which ſhe was ſure was none of his Buſineſs: in ſhort, the Girl huffed him, and ask'd him what it was to him, who was a Stranger, how her Lady liv'd.

HOWEVER he turns to the Maid, and ſitting down again, calmly enter'd into ſome Diſcourſe with her about her Lady, and her way of Living, and told ſo many of the Secrets of the Family to her, that ſhe began to uſe him better, and to per⯑ceive that he knew more of the [...]amily than ſhe thought he had, or indeed than ſhe did her ſelf; at laſt the Wench began to be un [...]ſi [...], and to que⯑ſtion in her Thought, whether it was not her Ma⯑ſter himſelf, come over Incognito, and only that he had not yet diſcover'd himſelf.

SHE tried ſeveral times to learn who he was, his Quality, his Country, his Name, and how ſhe might ſend to him; but he put it off, only told her he would go to—where her Lady lodg'd, and wait upon her Lady himſelf; and ſo treating the Servant very civily, and thanking her for ſhowing him the Houſe, he went away in Form with his Servant following him, ſo that he did not vaniſh as an Apparition at all.

YET the poor Wench was very uneaſie, ſhe be⯑gan to think it could not be an ordinary Creature, becauſe he gave ſuch ſtrange and particular Accounts of things done in the Family; as where ſeveral things were depoſited that belong'd to the Family, with ſeve⯑ral Circumſtances belonging to her Miſtreſs, to her little Son, and to his Father in the Weſt-Indies; and, in ſhort, ſaid ſome things, which, as ſhe ſaid, none but the Devil could tell of: which, by the way, was talking as ignorant People talk of ſuch things; [267] namely, that if any thing be ſaid, or done, out o [...] the ordinary Way, and more than is common for Men to talk, or do, they immediately ſay it muſt be the Devil.

IT muſt be confeſs'd, it ſhews a Difference be⯑tween the Preſent and the Paſt Ages: In former Times, if a Man did extraordinary Things, he was look'd upon as inſpir'd from Heaven; or if great mi⯑raculous Things were wrought, it was ſaid imme⯑diately to be from Heaven. Come ſee a Man that h [...]s told me all that ever I did, ſays the Woman of Samaria, John iv. 29. and it follows, is not this the Chriſt? ſhe did not ſay preſently this muſt be the Devil. Never Man ſpake like this Man! ſay the Meſ⯑ſengers ſent to apprehend Jeſus Chriſt, and away they came without him, ſtrook with awful Appre⯑henſions, John vii. 49. not concluding preſently that it was the Devil. No Man could do theſe Miracles that thou doeſt, except God be with him, John iii. 2. he does not ſay, no Man could do ſuch Miracles as theſe, but it muſt be the Devil. On the contrary, his Concluſion is, We know by theſe Mirac [...]es, that thou art a Teacher ſent from God. But now, if any thing be done extraordinary, or ſaid ſurprizingly, it muſt be the Devil; as if God had ceas'd to work, and all Extraordinaries were committed to the Devil.

THUS the Pertuis Roſtan, which is a wonderful Paſſage cut through a Mountain near Briançon, on the Frontiers of Dauphine, call'd one of the five Wonders of Dauphine, is ſaid to be the Work of the Devil; only becauſe the People have no Hiſtory recording the Time or Manner of its making, or by who; and becauſe they think it paſt the Power of Men's Hands: and the like of many Places, and Things in England. But this is a Digreſſion.

THE Poor Wench I am ſpeaking of was ſur⯑priz'd ve [...]y much at this Gentleman, and more after [268] he was gone, than before; for he did not give her time before, to reflect upon the Particulars he mention'd to her, but following one thing with another, he found her enough to do to take in the heads of Things in the groſs.

BUT when he was gone, and ſhe came to reflect, and lay things together, ſhe began to conſider, Who muſt this be? How could he know ſuch and ſuch things? How could he tell whoſe Picture that was? Where my Miſtreſs had ſuch a Suit of Curtains, and ſuch a Cabin [...]t? Who muſt he be, to tell me how long my Maſter has been at Jamaica, how much his Eſtate is there, and how much Money he has ſent my Lady o [...]r, i [...] ſo and ſo long time? This muſt be the Devil in my Maſter's Cloaths, ſome⯑thing muſt be in it, I'll go to my Lady, and let her know it all; and wi [...]h this the Maid gets a Wo⯑man, that uſed to be truſted in ſuch Caſes, to look after the Houſe, and away ſhe goes to—to her Miſtreſs, without ſo much as ſtaying to dreſs her.

INDEED I think 'tis a part of the Story, that the Gentleman deſir'd ſhe would acquaint her Miſtreſs with it; that ſuch a Perſon had been there; and gave her ſome particular Tokens, by which he ſaid her Miſtreſs would underſtand who he was; and that ſhe ſhould tell her what he ſaid, that her Income would not ſupport the Expences ſhe liv'd at, but that it would bring her to Ruin, and ſhe would be undone; but this Part I do not poſitively remember; but that he told the Maid it would be ſo, that I am particular in.

HOWEVER, the poor Girl, the more ſhe rumi⯑nated upon the thing, the more ſhe was frighted, and di [...]order'd about it; and away ſhe went, as I have ſaid, [...]o give her Lady an Account of it: and ſhe was the more eager to go alſo, becauſe ſhe under⯑ [...]tood him, that he int [...]nded to wait upon her himſelf, [269] to talk about the Lodgings; and ſo ſhe would prepare her Lady to receive him, and to conſider what kind of a Man it muſt be, that ſhe might not be frighted at him: But he had been too quick for the Maid.

WHEN ſhe came to—ſhe found her Mi⯑ſtreſs thrown down upon the Bed very ill, and ſo ill, that at firſt they told her ſhe could not ſpeak with her. Don't tell me, ſays Mary, (that is the L [...]ndon Maid) I muſt ſpeak with her, and will ſpeak with her, for I have extraordinary Buſineſs with her. What extraordinary Buſineſs can you have? ſays the Lady's Woman, taunting at her; if your Buſineſs was from the Devil, you can't ſpeak with my Lady juſt now, for ſhe is very ill, and laid down upon the Bed.

FROM the Devil! ſays Mary. I don't know but it may, and I believe it is indeed, and I muſt ſpeak with my Lady immediately.

NAY, ſays the Woman, here has been one Meſ⯑ſenger too many from the Devil already, I think; ſure you don't come of his Errand too, do ye?

I DON'T know whoſe Errand I come of, but I am frighted out of my Wits; let me ſpeak with my Lady preſently, or I ſhall die before I deliver my Meſſage.

DIE! ſays the Woman: I wiſh my Lady don't die before ſhe can [...]ear it; pr'ythee Mary, if it be any thing to fright her, don't t [...]ll it her juſt now, for ſhe is almoſt frighted to Death already.

WHY, ſays Mary, has my Lady ſeen any thing [...]

AY, ay: Seen! ſays th [...] Woman, ſhe has ſeen and heard too; here has b [...]n a Man here, has brought her ſome dreadful Tidings, I don't know what it is.

THEY talk'd this ſo loud, or were ſo near, that the Lady heard ſomething of it, and immediately ſhe rung a Bell for h [...]r Woman.

[270] WHEN the Woman went in, Who is that be⯑low, ſays ſhe, talking ſo earneſtly? is any body come in from London?

YES, Madam, ſays her Woman, here is Mary come to ſpeak with your Ladyſhip.

MARY come, ſays ſhe, with a Surprize, what's the Matter! what, has ſhe ſeen any thing too? mer⯑cy on me, what's the Matter! what does ſhe ſay?

SHE does not ſay much, Madam, ſays the Wo⯑man, but ſhe wants mightily to ſpeak with your Ladyſhip, and is in a great Hurry.

WHAT, ſays the Lady, is ſhe frighted?

I BELIEVE ſhe is, ſays the Woman, but ſhe won't tell any thing but to your ſelf.

O, I ſhall die! ſays the Lady; call her up.

PRAY Madam, ſays her Woman, don't call her up 'till you [...] Ladyſhip has recover'd your ſelf a little from your other Diſorders; ſhe'll tell you ſome wild Tale or other of her own Imagination, that will raiſe the Vapours, and do you a Miſchief.

O, ſays the Lady, let me hear it, let it be what it will; if it be from the Devil, it can't be worſe than it is; call her up, I muſt ſpeak with her.

ACCORDINGLY Mary came up, and the Wo⯑man was order'd to withdraw.

AS ſoon as the Door was ſhut, her Lady burſt out into Tears again, for ſhe had been crying ve⯑hemently before. O Mary, ſays ſhe, I have had a dreadful Viſit this Afternoon, here has been your Maſter.

MY Maſter! Why, Madam, that's impoſſible.

NAY, it has been your Maſter to be ſure, or the Devil in his Likeneſs.

IN a word, 'tis certain it was her Hu [...]band in Apparition, or an Apparition of her Husband, and he talk'd very warmly and cloſely to her, and told her his Eſtate would not ſupport her expenſive way of Living, and that ſhe would bring her ſelf [271] to Miſery and Poverty; and a great deal more to the ſame Purpoſe, as he had ſaid to Mary.

MARY immediately ask'd her Ladyſhip, what manner he appear'd in; and by the Deſcription that her Miſtreſs gave, it was exactly the ſame Figure that came to her, and deſired to ſee the Lodgings; ſo Mary gave her Lady a particular Relation of what happen'd to her alſo, and of the Meſſage ſhe was charg'd to deliver.

WHAT follow'd upon this Alarm, and how the Lady was reduced, and obliged to ſell her fine Fur⯑niture and Equipage, and came to very low Cir⯑cumſtances, tho' it was a part of the Story, is not ſo much to my Purpoſe in the Relation. But what is remarkable to the Caſe in hand is, that they alledge, that juſt at this Juncture Sir J—O—ne, the Lady's Husband, died in the Weſt-Indies: I ſup⯑poſe by his Death her Supplies were immediately ſtopped, and that was the Occaſion of her being reduced ſo ſuddenly.

NOW the Apparition, and its appearing in the Shape or Figure of the Husband, his warning her of her approaching Circumſtances, and moving her to abate her expenſive way of Living, and the like, all this is agreeable to the Opinion I have already given, that good Spirits may be allowed to aſſume humane Shape, and the Shape of any particular Perſon, whether the Perſon be dead or living; and may appear to us, to caution us in our wrong Meaſures, to warn us againſt impending Miſchiefs, and to direct us in Difficulties. And how merciful is it to Mankind, that there are ſuch kind Moni⯑tors at hand, at any time, for our good!

BUT that this muſt be juſt in the Article of Death, juſt when the Perſon was dying, and the Soul departing; as if the Soul could ſtay in its Paſſage, between Life, and the eternal State, to call at this, or that Place, and deliver a Meſſage: [272] For Example; if it was to be carry'd by the An⯑gels into Abrabam's Boſom, you muſt ſuppoſe thoſe Angels would go about with it from Jamaica to London, to give it leave to ſpeak with his Wife, before its Tranſlation, before thoſe ſwift Meſſen⯑gers perform'd their Task; nay that he muſt ſtop at the London Houſe, aſſume a Shape for that Pur⯑poſe, talk about the moſt frivolous things with Mary the Servant Maid, and then go with another formal Errand to—to his Wife, all this in his Journey; and having diſpatch'd theſe more weighty Affairs, then go on for Heaven afterwards.

THIS, I ſay, has to me no Conſiſtency in it, no Coherence, it does not hang together in my Opi⯑nion at all, nor can I make any common Senſe of it; no, not if I was to come to the old poetick Ficti⯑ons of Charon and his Ferry-Boat; even the old Ferry-Man would not have ſtept out of his Way, upon any ſuch Buſineſs.

WHAT might be done by the Agency of thoſe Spirits, appointed by the Great Lord of all Spirit, to attend for the good of his Creatures, I have not the leaſt Objection againſt; but that the Soul of the Deceaſed, or Departed, can come of this Errand it ſelf, that I deny, and muſt inſiſt upon it, that there is neither Reaſon or Religion in it, 'tis founded wholly in the Imagination; and tho' the Imagina⯑tion may not in this Caſe form the Apparition, yet 'tis evident the Imagina [...]ion only appropriates it to the Perſon, that is, to the Soul of the Perſon, who has really [...]o Share in the Operation.

UPON this Foundation likewiſe ſtands the old Heathen Notion, taken from the C [...]e of Achilles and his Friend Patr [...]lus, that the Soul of the De⯑ceaſed cannot be at Reſt, 'till he h [...]s come and given Notice of ſuch and ſuch things; that Juſtice be done to ſuch and ſuch injur'd Perſons; and Money, ſo and ſo appropriated, be regularly diſpoſed, and the [273] Will of the Deceaſed punctually performed: Theſe I take not to be imaginary but fictitious, and made or ſupplyed out of the Invention of the Relator, in order to diſh up the Story.

AND this makes the Story of the Duke of Buckingham's Father, of which mention has been made already, be liable to ſo many Exceptions: That his Father could not reſt, or his Soul could not be at reſt, becauſe of the wicked Life his Son George liv'd at Court; That part muſt certainly be added by ſome of the very very many Relators, or who have call'd themſelves Relators of that Story; and my Lord Clarendon, who ſeems to have been the moſt exact and judicious in the putting the whole Story together, has none of that Paſſage in his Ac⯑count of it, as we ſhall ſee preſently.

UPON what Religious Foundation can we ſug⯑geſt, that the Sins of the Children ſhould diſquiet the Fathers in their Graves, or that the Souls de⯑parted can receive any Impreſſion from the Beha⯑viour of thoſe in Life, ſubſequent to any Action thoſe Souls departed have been concern'd in?

THAT they may be affected in a Future State with the Wickedneſs and Offences committed in their paſt Life, that I will not doubt; tho' even not that in ſuch a manner, as to ſend them back hither upon any Errand about it; for all is irre⯑trievable; as there is no Repentance, ſo no Repa⯑ration, there is neither Work nor Invention in the Grave, whither we are all going. The Soul may be in a State of Self-Reflection and Reproach; but not in a State of Reaction, no recovering for our ſelves, nor concern for others; 'tis all out of the Queſtion, and all the Notices from the other ſide of the Curtain come from other Hands, whoſe Name ſoever they may ſpeak in, or whoſe Shape ſoever they may aſſume.

[274] I AM forc'd, how reluctant ſoever, to talk Scrip⯑ture to my Readers, upon this nice part of the Subject; whether they will lay any weight upon it or no, be that to themſelves.

IN INSIST upon it, that the Souls of the dead can make no Viſits hither when once they are re⯑moved; that when they are unembodied, diſrob'd of Fleſh and Blood, they have no more concern with or about us; ſo as either to diſturb their Reſt or ours; and this is plain to me, not only from the Nature of the thing, from Reaſon and Obſervati⯑on; but from the Scripture. Eccl. ix. 5. For the living know that they ſhall die: but the dead know not any thing, neither have they any more a Reward, for the memory of them is fotgotten. This latter part re⯑lates to their having any Reward or Concern in things here of this Life, no more Reward or Be⯑nefit or Share of things here: But look into the next words, ver. 6. Alſo their love, and their hatred, and their envy is now periſhed; neither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under the Sun.

WHAT can be plainer than this, if Scripture be of any moment among us? if not, I can ſay nothing to that. But I ſay, what can be plainer, and what do thoſe People mean who tell us a Ghoſt or Spirit appear'd, and ſaid it could not be at Reſt 'till it had come to do ſo and ſo, 'till it had diſco⯑ver'd ſuch and ſuch things, and 'till it had ſeen it well perform'd?

IF my Vote in this Caſe may be of any Value, or I may offer any thing by way of Direction to weaker Heads; let them make this one thing a Character or Mark to know ſuch things by, or to judge of them, viz. That when they meet with any Story told in ſuch a manner, they ſhould con⯑clude it a fiction, a cheat; that it is only a Story made by the Invention of Story-Makers, a Deluſion, [275] and that no Spirit or Apparition really com⯑ing upon any Meſſage from the Inviſible World, ever talks after that manner; or that if they do 'tis a Cheat of the Devil to carry on ſome Deluſion, and to make ſome Lye appear plauſible; for that there can be no reality in it, that's aſſerted as above, The dead know not any thing, not any thing HERE; but their Love, and their Hatred, and their Envy is periſhed.

WE have another Story to offer in this caſe, which has been mention'd, as if it were the Act and Deed of the Perſon departed; and in whoſe Name it was ſaid to be done, and who, as we may ſay, was perſonated in it. I ſhall relate the Story impartially as I receiv'd it, and let all the Advan⯑tage that can be taken of it be made, I believe it will not amount to any rational Concluſion, in Fa⯑vour of this Notion, that the Soul of the Perſon deceaſed is any way concern'd in it, or in any part of it.

THIS is the famous Story of the Apparition of one James Haddock in Ireland, which is pu [...]liſh'd many ſeveral ways, and that by ſeveral Authors; and ſome of them intimating that it was really the departed Soul of James Haddock, who could not be at Reſ [...], as ſome of the Writers of the Story would inſinuate, becauſe his little Son by his Wife E⯑leanor Welch was wrong'd in a Leaſe le [...]t by him to the Child; but kept from him by her ſecond Hus⯑band.

THE abridg'd Story is this. In the Year 1662, an Apparition meets one Francis Taverner on the Highway; the Man having Courage to ſpeak to it, asks it what he is? and the Apparition tells him he is James Haddock, and gives him ſeveral Tokens to remember him by, which Taverner alſo calling to mind owns them; and then boldly demands of the Apparition what buſineſs he had with him; [276] the Apparition did not tell his Buſineſs that Night; but would have had Taverner rode back his way with him, and he would tell him his Buſineſs, which Taverner refus'd, as well he might; and that part indeed ſeems the only improbable part of the Story.

HOWEVER the next Night the Apparition comes to him again, and then tells him the Buſi⯑neſs, which was to deſire him to go to his Wife, whoſe Maiden Name was Eleanor Welſh; but was then marry'd again to one Davis, which Davis with-held the Leaſe from the Orphan, Haddock's Son, and tell her ſhe ſhould cauſe Juſtice to be done to the Child.

TAVERNER neglected to perform this Er⯑rand, and was ſo continually follow'd by the Ap⯑parition, that it was exceeding terrible to him; and at laſt it threaten'd to tear him in Peices, if he did not go of his Errand.

UPON this he goes and delivers the Meſſage to the Woman, who it ſeems took but ſmall Notice of it; and then the Apparition came again, and told him he muſt go to his Executor, and do the ſame Errand; which he was it ſeems afraid to do, for fear of Davis; but the Apparition threaten'd Davis if he ſhould attempt to do him (Taverner) any Injury.

N. B. Here I am to Note, that this Story made ſo much Noiſe in the Country, and the Parti⯑culars appear'd to be ſo faithfully related by Ta⯑verner, that abundance of Perſons of Note came to him to have the Relation from his own Mouth; and among the reſt the Lord Biſhop of Down and Connor, who I name in Reverence, not to his Dignity only, or ſo much, as in Reve⯑rence of his known Piety and Seriouſneſs in Reli⯑gion: Being the fam'd Doctor Jeremy Taylor, Author of a known Book call'd Rules of Holy Living and Dying.

[277] THIS Reverend Father ſent for the ſaid Francis Taverner, to examine him about this ſtrange ſcene of Providence, ſo the Biſhop call'd it; and he did examine him ſtrictly about it, and the Account ſays, his Lordſhip was fully ſatisfied, that the Appa⯑rition was true and real; that is to ſay, that it was true that there was really ſuch an Apparition.

NOW all this is within the Bounds of what I have laid down, viz. That there are really Appa⯑ritions, and theſe Apparitions do perſonate ſuch and ſuch Bodies or Shapes, whoſe Names they take upon them, and whoſe Perſons they repreſent.

BUT for the reſt, I think all the Notions that the People then entertain'd of it, and even the Bi⯑ſhop among the reſt, muſt be very erroneous and miſtaken. For,

1. THE Biſhop entertain'd the Story, as if this Apparition was really the Soul of the departed James Haddock, as appear'd by a ſecond Examination of Taverner by his Lordſhip; for the Lady Con⯑way, and other Perſons of Quality, hearing the Biſhop had ſent for Taverner to examine him, went all away to be preſent at the Examination: And the Biſhop being gone to a Town call'd Hillsbro' three Miles off, the Company went all thither, and Ta⯑verner was ſent for to them, and there examin'd of all the Particulars again, and anſwer'd again to the Satisfaction of all the Company.

BUT here (and for this reaſon I relate this part) his Lordſhip, after asking many more Queſtions, concluded by adviſing Taverner to ask the Appari⯑tion when it came again, Whence are you, are you a good or an evil Spirit? by which is ſuppos'd his Lordſhip underſtood, Are you in a good or bad State; for his next Queſtion was, Where is your Abode? what Station do you hold? how are you regimented in the other World? and what is the Reaſon that you appear for the Relief of your Son [278] in ſo ſmall a Matter, when ſo many Widows and Orphans are oppreſs'd in the World, being de⯑frauded of greater Matters, and none from thence of their Relations appear to right them?

AND the very ſame Night Taverner meeting the Apparition again, who, it ſeems, was fully ſa⯑tisfy'd with what he had done in delivering the Meſſage to the Executor; at this Appearing Ta⯑verner ask'd him the Queſtions above, but it gave him no Anſwer; and indeed it could not be ex⯑pected that Curioſity ſhould be anſwered.

FOR, as I ſaid above, it is evident by the Queſtions, the Biſhop, in all theſe Examinations, fell in with the vulgar Error of the Time about ſuch Apparitions, namely, that it was the Soul of James Haddock; and well indeed might he ask how he came to Appear, when others in Caſes of greater Moment did not.

BUT he ſhould have ask'd, How is it poſſible you that are dead ſhould be acquainted with theſe Circumſtances, when the Word of God ſays ex⯑preſly the Dead know not any thing, and that all their Love and Hatred is periſhed? Had he ask'd him, that, perhaps he might have told him that he was not the Soul of James Haddock, but a good Spirit ſent from the inviſible World by the eſpecial directi⯑on of Heaven, to right a poor, ruin'd, oppreſs'd Orphan, abandon'd to Injury by its own unnatural Mother. But to talk of the Soul of James Had⯑dock, and what Station it held in the other World, the Apparition might well go away, and give no Anſwer to it.

NOR in any of this Diſcourſe did the Appari⯑tion pretend it was not at Reſt, or could not be at Reſt 'till Juſtice was done to the Child, or 'till the Meſſage was deliver'd: the Apparition was too juſt to itſelf to ſay ſo: and on the other Hand, 'tis to me one of the moſt convincing Proofs, that [279] it was really an Apparition or Appearance of a Spirit.

NOW, as in other Caſes, what Spirit it was may be worth taking Notice of; here is not the leaſt room to ſuggeſt that it was the Devil, or an evil Spirit; and therefore the Biſhop was wrong in that too, to ask if it was a good or evil Spirit; for how ſhould his Wiſdom judge, who was himſelf a good Man, that an evil Spirit ſhould come of a good Errand, to right an injur'd Orphan, an op⯑preſs'd Fatherleſs Child? the Devil, or any evil Spirit, could hardly be ſuppos'd to move about ſuch Buſineſs.

IT is to be obſerv'd here, and ſhould have been added to the Story, that the ſaid Davis and his Wife, tho' it ſeems much againſt his Will, did give up the Leaſe to the Child, the Son of that James Haddock; with this diſmal Circumſtance, at⯑tending it, viz. That about five Years after, and when the Biſhop was dead, one Coſtlet, who was the Child's Truſtee, threatned to take away the Leaſe again, rail'd at Taverner, and made terrible Imprecations upon himſelf if he knew of the Leaſe, and threatned to go to Law with the Orphan. But one Night being drunk at the Town of Hill⯑Hall, near Lisburne in Ireland, where all this Scene was laid, going home he fell from his Horſe and never ſpoke more, and ſo the Child enjoy'd the Eſtate peaceably ever after.

IN a Word, the little injur'd Orphan ſeem'd to be the Care of Heaven in a particular manner; and the good Angel which appear'd in its behalf without doubt executed God's Juſtice upon the wicked drunken Oppreſſor, the Truſtee; and as he imprecated Vengeance on himſelf, [...]o th [...]t ſame Spirit might be Commiſſion'd to ſee it fall upon him.

[280] AND here it moſt naturally occurs to obſerve that the departed Souls of Men and Women dead and buried, cannot be ſuppos'd to have any Com⯑miſſion to execute particular Vengeance on any in this World; the Suppoſition of this would bring a confus'd medly of Notions upon us, ſuch as would be inconſiſtent not with Religion only, but even with common Senſe; and which need not take up any of our Pains to confute them.

NOTHING has more fill'd the idle Heads of the old Women of theſe latter Ages than the Stories of Ghoſts and Apparitions coming to Peo⯑ple, to tell them where Money was hidden, and how to find it; and 'tis wonderful to me that ſuch Tales ſhould make ſuch Impreſſions, and that ſometimes among wiſe and judicious People too, as we find they have done. How many old Hou⯑ſes have been almoſt pull'd down, and Pitts fruit⯑leſly dug in the Earth, at the ridiculous Motion of pretended Apparitions? of which I ſhall ſpeak more in its Place.

I HAVE hitherto ſtudiouſly avoided giving you any Accounts, however extraordinary, that have been already made publick; but this one, which relates to the Aſſaſſination of the great Duke of Buckingham, (whether famous or infamous I know not which to determine him) in the time of the late King Charles I, I cannot omit, becauſe the va⯑rious manner of its being related ſo eminently touches the Caſe in Hand.

THAT the Duke of Buckingham was ſlabb'd by one Lieutenant Felton at Portſmouth, as he was go⯑ing upon an Expedition for the Relief of Rochelle, Hiſtory is ſo full of it, and all that know any thing of our Engliſh Annals are ſo well acquainted with the Story of it, that I need ſay nothing to introduce that Part: Mr. Aubrey takes upon him to relate the Story of an Apparition upon this Oc⯑caſion in the following manner:

THIS Part of the Story indeed is calculated like a true Chimney-corner Piece of News; that Sir George, who was dead, ſhould ſay he could not reſt in Peace for the Wickedneſs and Abomination of his Son George at Court.

PREPOSTEROUS! What State muſt old Sir George be in? If in a State of Miſery, what does he mean by reſting in Peace? if in a State of Bleſſedneſs, what could his Son do to impeach his Reſt? and if we ſhall give any weight to what the Scripture ſays in that Caſe, he knew nothing of him, let his own State or his Son's Abominations (as he calls them) be what they would. See Job xiv. 19, 20, 21. The waters wear the Stones: thou waſheſt away the things which grow out of the duſt of the earth, and thou de⯑ſtroyeſt the hope of man. Thou pr [...]vaileſt for ever againſt [282] him, and he paſſeth: thou changeſt his countenance, and ſondeſt him away. His ſons come to honour, and he knoweth it not; and they are brought low, but he per⯑ceiveth it not of them.

'TIS plain here that the Hope (that is the Knowledge and Wiſdom) of Man as to this World, is deſtroyed and waſh'd away in Death; his Sons may riſe or fall, be great or little, high or low, good or evil, 'tis all one to him, he knows nothing of it. How then could Sir George Villers ſay, ſeveral Years after he was dead too, that he could not reſt in Peace? What! had he been at Reſt and in Peace, and was he diſquieted again by his Son George's Wickedneſs? that does not hang together at all. The old Knight had been dead ſeveral Years before his Son George came to riſe at Court; when he did riſe, he was not immediately ſo abominably wicked as he was afterward: Where then was the Soul of Sir George the Father, all the while? his Reſt could not be diſturb'd 'till the Circumſtances that diſturb'd it happen'd.

BUT my Lord Clarendon tells this ſame Story, with much more Probability of Truth; for firſt he leaves out the Abſurdity, which indeed his Lordſhip was too wiſe a Man to impoſe upon the World with the Sanction of his Authority, nor was there Senſe enough in it to give it Credit.

IN the next Place he does not make the Perſon to whom Sir George Villers appear'd, be an Equal, and an Int [...]mate Friend, but one that had liv'd in the ſame Town where Sir George had liv'd, and had not ſeen him for many Years, but recollected him from the Cloaths he had ſeen him wear; whereas the Story above makes them dear Friends, which if it had been ſo, it was not likely he ſhould re⯑fuſe to hear the Meſſage, and yet he ſcruples it very much.

[283] BUT there are more diſcording Circumſtances in the Story. Let us take the Lord Clarendon's Re⯑lation, which is done with an appparent Regard to Truth, and is as follows:

The Account of the Apparition of Sir George Villers, relating to the Murther of the Duke of Buckingham his Son, as taken from the Lord Clarendon's Hiſtory, Vol. I. Fo. 34, 35. as follows:

BESIDES the above-named claſhing Circum⯑ſtances in the differing Relation of this Story, there are one or two that are very material, as will ap⯑pear by the following Remarks.

1. AUBREY ſays Mr. Towes, as he calls him, went to the Duke, and told him the Token; not⯑withſtanding which, the Duke laugh'd at his Meſ⯑ſage: whereas my Lord Clarendon tells juſt the con⯑trary, that the Duke gave him an open, tho' a very particular Audience; all his Attendance keeping at a diſtance, and that he held him in that earneſt Diſcourſe for an Hour.

2. AUBREY ſays, the Token Sir George gave to enforce or engage his Son's Attention, was, that he (the Duke) had a Mole in ſuch a private Part of his Body; but my Lord ſays, the Token given was of ſuch a Nature as the Duke ſwore none but the Devil and one Perſon in the World could know, and that he was ſure that one Perſon would not ſpeak of it; and that the Duke was extremely diſturbed when he heard of it.

N. B. FAME, tho' with ſome Privacy, ſays, that the ſecret Token was an inceſtuous Breach of Modeſty between the Duke and a certain Lady too nearly related to him, which it ſur⯑prized the Duke to hear of; and that as he thought he had good Reaſon to be ſure the Lady would not tell it of her ſelf, ſo he thought none but the Devil could tell it beſides her; and this aſtoniſhed him, ſo that he was very far from receiving the Man ſlightly, or laughing at his Meſſage.

WHAT this Apparition then was, and from whom, or from whence, remains to be decided. That the thing was real, is too well atteſted; it comes [289] loaded with ſo many concurring Circumſtances, and told in the hearing of ſo many Witneſſes of good Fame and Credit, that there is no Room to queſtion the Fact; and as to the various Ways of relating it, the Truth of the whole is not a⯑bated by it at all: only as is natural to things of this Nature which paſs thro' ſo many Hands, eve⯑ry one expreſſing themſelves their own way, tho' meaning the ſame thing; they often vary at laſt in the very Subſtance, by only varying at firſt in the Ci [...]cumſtances.

THE Truth of the Matter is at laſt, that the Apparition foretold his Ruin, and it ſoon follow'd. Now that this Apparition could not be the Devil, is evident from the Reaſons laid down before in the like Caſes. How can we ſuppoſe the Devil would be offended with the wicked Life and abo⯑minable Practices of the Duke of Buckingham at Court? His inceſtuous Lewdneſs, and whatever o⯑ther ſcandalous Practices he allowed himſelf in, the Devil might, perhaps, encourage and prompt him to, but he would never ſ [...]nd a Meſſenger to him to warn him againſt them, and to alarm him with Apprehenſions of Danger attending him if he did not reform. This is none of the Devil's Buſineſs, 'tis quite foreign to him, 'twould be the weakeſt thing in the World to ſuggeſt it of him.

AGAIN, if it were any thing immediately from Hea⯑ven, it would have been effectual to have awaken'd and reform'd him: But as it might be a kind Meſſen⯑ger from another part of the inviſible World, where his approaching Fate was known, and who having given him this Notice, left his Reformation in his own Power, and laid the Neceſſity of it before the Eyes of his Reaſon, as well as of his Conſcience, and that after this his Fall was of himſelf; this makes it all rational, and eaſie to be underſtood, and is agreeable to the ordinary Cuſtom of Providence [290] in like Caſes, of which many Examples might be given in the World.

NOR is it ſtrange, that the Apparition ſhould perſonate the old deceaſed Father of the Duke, and aſſume his Shape, to add as it were a Solemnity to the Meſſage, and give it a greater Influence upon the Mind of the Duke; and the ſame Meſſenger might have aſſumed any other Shape or Perſon if it had thought fit, whether living or dead.

BUT if the Shape aſſumed was the moſt likely to give Weight to the Errand it was to be ſent a⯑bout, we are not to wonder at all that a Spirit em⯑ploy'd, or employing it ſelf on an Errand of ſuch Importance, ſhould be able to ſingle out ſuch Ap⯑pearances, or ſuch Shapes and Perſons to appear in the Figure of, as were apteſt to enforce the Meſ⯑ſage. The well-chuſing the Perſon is to me a Teſti⯑mony for, not againſt the Goodneſs, the Judgment and Capacity of the perſonating Spirit, and would with juſt reaſoning confirm to us the validity of the Meſſage, and of the Meſſenger alſo.

AND yet 'tis very reaſonable to believe, that Sir George Villers, thus ſeeming to appear, and whoſe Surface or Out-ſide is put on like a Maſquerade Habit upon this Occaſion, knew nothing of it, and had no manner of concern in it. Nothing is more won⯑derful in any part of the Story to me, than that Men of Senſe and Learning, as ſome ſuch have been, could be prevailed upon, or rather could prevail upon themſelves, to publiſh to the World ſuch in⯑congruous, ſuch irrational things as theſe; that a Man dead, perhaps twenty Years before, I think it's ſo much at leaſt; ſhould appear, and ſay, he could not reſt in Peace for ſuch and ſuch things. And in ano⯑ther of the ſame Author's Stories, an Apparition is brought in appearing to Dr. Turberville's Siſter, be⯑ing a Lady who was dead, and had left ſome Chil⯑dren to her Husband, which Children were injur'd [291] by a ſecond Wife, contrary to the Settlement of the firſt Wife's Marriage; and this Settlement of the firſt Marriage was it ſeems hid behind the Wain⯑ſcot, in ſuch and ſuch a Place, which no body knew of but the Children's Mother, that is to ſay the firſt Wife. This Lady appeared to diſcover where this Writing lay, and tells the Perſon to whom ſhe diſcover'd it, that 'till ſhe had made this Diſcovery, ſhe had wander'd in the Air, but that now ſhe was going to God.

STRANGE! that Mr. Glanvil, A [...]brey, and o⯑thers, could publiſh ſuch a Story as this, without ſome juſt Enquiries to reconcile it to common Senſe, as well as to Religion; as particularly how long this Lady had been Dead; for it ſeems to have been ſome Years, the Husband being married again, and the Children being in danger of being wrong'd by the Children of the ſecond Venter? Now, did the Soul of the firſt Lady wander all that while in the Air, to ſee whether there ſhould be any oc⯑caſion for her, to vindicate her Children's Right, or no? did ſhe ſtay from going to God all that while, only for diſcovering a conceal'd Deed, that her Children might not be wrong'd? how ſhall we make ſuch a thing out to be rational? what No⯑tions of Religion or of a future State will ſup⯑port it?

WHY did ſhe not immediately diſcover where the Deed, or Marriage Settlement lay, and put it into the Hands of ſome honeſt People, in Truſt for her Children? and then ſhe had not need to have wander'd in the Air 'till it had been done.

THEY muſt have very low-priz'd Thoughts of Heaven, and of going to God, after the departing or ſeparating of the Soul from the Body in Life, who think the Paſſage can be interrupted by any of the Affairs of this Life left unfiniſh'd. If even our Repentance unfiniſh'd, our Peace with God unfiniſh'd, [292] can never be retreiv'd, if Time is not to be recalled; but that as the Tree falls, ſo it ſhall lie: Shall we pretend the Soul ſhall be ſtopped and in⯑terrupted in its Paſſage, to retrieve the Injuſtice and Violence done to the Orphans, or Relicts of the Family? ſhall the Soul be brought back to find out old hidden Parchments, or as it is pretended in other like Stories, to dig up old long-buried Money, and the like?

NO, no; thoſe things ſhould be done in time: like Rep [...]ntance, they ſhould not be left to that Hazard; for we may depend, there is no Work, or Device, or Invention in the Grave, whither we are all going.

THAT there are inviſibe Agents, which in Pur⯑ſuance of the Government of Providence in the World, may be made Inſtruments, to act in ſuch Caſes as theſe; to diſcover Writings which being conceal'd may ruin Families, rob and plunder Or⯑phans, and diſtreſs the right Heirs of Eſtates, and i [...] many like Caſes, this need not be deny'd, and is in⯑de [...]d not to b [...] diſputed; and 'tis a glorious Teſti⯑mony to the Juſtice of Providence, that in ſuch Caſes he does not abandon the Widows and the Orphans, who for want of loſt or conceal'd Deeds, are ſometimes in Danger of being undone, by Vio⯑lence and R [...]pine. But all this is eaſier to be un⯑derſtood to be done without Interruption of the ordinary Courſe of Things, without obſtructing the Soul's Paſſage into its determined ſtate of Happi⯑neſs or Miſery; which it muſt be the weakeſt, and indeed the wickedeſt thing in the World, to think can be diverted by theſe Trifles; and whoſe di⯑rect Progreſſion is plainly ſtated in the Scripture in theſe Words: It is appointed unto all Men once to die, and after Death to Judgment; or immediately after Death to Judgment, at leaſt ſo as nothing to prevent or intervene; Heb. ix. 27. It is appointed, and ſur [...]ly [293] theſe things can never break in upon that ſolemn Appointment:

BESIDES, 'tis an evident Impeachment of the Power and Juſtice, as well as the Wiſdom of Pro⯑vidence, in his Diſpoſition of things, as if he could not find out Ways to do right to injur'd Orphans, or to detect the Injuſtice and Oppreſſion of violent and unreaſonable Men, but the Soul of the depart⯑ed Mother muſt be kept out of Heaven to do it her ſelf. Horrid Abſurdity! and inconſiſtent with all the Notions that true Religion has inſpir'd us with, relating to a Future State, and to the Gulph that is fix'd betwen this and that.

THE Soul can no more be kept out from, or delay'd its Entrance into Heaven, if its Portion be appointed for Happineſs, by any Concern for the Affairs of this World, than it can b [...] diſq [...]iet [...]d af⯑ter it is entered thoſe Realms of Peace, and diſturbed or brought back from thence upon any Account whatſoever.

THE very thoughts of it are ſo mean, ſo low⯑rated and baſe, that 'tis unworthy of our Rea⯑ſon, but eſpecially of our Chriſtian reaſoning Pow⯑ers, to ent [...]rtain them. I take this Abſurdity in⯑deed to be much of the Cauſe of that juſt Ridicule, which the wiſer Part of Mankind have put upon moſt of the Stories which are told among us about Witchcraft and Apparitions; for that they are told with ſuch evident Inconſiſtences, that they cannot go down with rational People: Who can believe what cannot be true? who can make a ſeri⯑ous thing of a piece of ridiculous Nonſenſe? That a Soul diſmiſs'd from Life, and going directly into Heaven, ſhall be call'd back by the Cry of the Children after her, with a hold! ſtay Mother! come back, and come and tell us where the Writings are for your Joyntur [...], or we ſhall be undone? and the poor Mother, Uncas'd, Unembodied, muſt come back, [292] [...] [293] [...] [294] diſmiſs the Angels that were carrying her into Abra⯑ham's Boſom, and bid them come for her another time; and here ſhe muſt hover about we know not how many Years, to do Right to theſe Children. Sure the ſame Power that could thus interrupt her Paſſage into Heaven, might have prevented her ſe⯑parating from the Body, and ſhe might with as much eaſe, and leſs injuſtice to her ſelf, have been kept out of the Grave, as kept out of Heaven.

BUT I am ſick of the very Repetition; the De⯑luſion is ſo groſs, I ſay it is not to be wondered that we are ſhock'd by it in our belief of the thing call'd Apparition in general. The ridiculous Part diſcredits the real Part, and it being ſo ſufeiting to our Reaſon to hear the firſt Part, we throw off our Patience, and will hear nothing at all of it.

IT is true we ſhould not do thus; the Reality of the Thing, abſtracted from theſe diſtracted and en⯑thuſiaſtick Notions, is not leſſen'd: 'tis our Buſineſs then to reject the fooliſh Part, which indeed has almoſt ſmother'd and buried the reſt in its Duſt and Rubbiſh, and let us judge rightly of things as they are. There is no want of Examples, where (Provi⯑dence permitting) Apparition has made Diſcove⯑ries of villainous and diſhoneſt Ac [...]ions and Deſigns; detected Violence and Murther, done Right to in⯑jur'd and oppreſs'd Widows, and Fatherleſs Chil⯑dren; and this without ſuch a monſtrous and incon⯑ſiſtent Addition, as that of bringing back the Soul from its Entrance into Heaven, or diſturbing its Reſt and Peace in a future State: things too groſs to be ſo much as nam'd among Chriſtians, whoſe Faith in things Future is too well eſtabliſh'd to be capable of receiving any Impreſſions from ſuch Deluſions.

I HAVE an Example in Story very particular to this Caſe; and which my Author aſſures me of the Truth of, tho' never yet publiſh'd in Print: The Story is told of the late Reverend Dr. Scot, a []

[295] Man whoſe Learning and Piety was eminent, and whoſe Judgment was known to be ſo good, as not to be eaſily impoſed upon.

THE Doctor, as I have the Story related, was ſitting alone by the Fire, either in his Study or his Parlour, in Broadſtreet where he liv'd, and reading a Book, his Door being ſhut faſt and lock'd; he was well aſſur'd there was no body in the Room but himſelf, when accidentally raiſing his Head a little, he was exceedingly ſurpriz'd to ſee ſitting in an Elbow Chair, at the other ſide of the Fire-place or Chimney, an Antient grave Gentleman in a black Velvet Gown, a long Whig, and looking with a pleaſing Countenance towards him (the Doctor) as if juſt going to ſpeak.

N. B. Another Perſon relating this Story, ſays the Antient Gentleman appear'd ſtanding, and having juſt opened the Door of the Doctor's Study, he was come in; and ſaluting the Doctor ſpoke firſt to him: but the Difference is but ſmall.

THE Relations agree in this part, that the Doctor was greatly ſurpriz'd at the ſight of him; and indeed the ſeeing him as ſitting in a Chair was the moſt likely to be ſurprizing; becauſe the Doctor knowing the Door to be lock'd, and then ſeeing a Man ſitting in the Chair, he muſt immediately and at firſt ſight conclude him to be a Spirit, or Appa⯑rition, or Devil, call it as you will; whereas ſee⯑ing him come in at the Door, he might at firſt ſight ſuppoſe him to be really a Gentleman come to ſpeak with him, and might think he had omitted faſtning the Door, as he intended to have done.

BUT be it which of the two it will, the Do⯑ctor appear'd in great diſorder at the ſight, as he ac [...]nowledg'd to thoſe to whom he told the Story, and from whom I receiv'd this Account, with very little remove of Hands between.

[296] THE Spectre it ſeems began, for the Doctor had not Courage at firſt, as he ſaid, to ſpeak to it; I ſay the Spectre or Apparition ſpoke firſt, and deſir'd the Doctor not to be frighted, not to be ſurpriz'd, for that he would not do him any hurt; but that he came to him upon a Matter of great Importance to an injur'd Family, which was in great danger of being Ruin'd; and that tho' he (the Doctor) was a Stranger to the Family, yet know⯑ing him to be a Man of Integrity, he had pitch'd upon him to do an act of very great Charity, as well as Juſtice; and that he could depend upon him for a punctual Performance.

THE Doctor was not at firſt compos'd enough to receive the Introduction of the Buſineſs with a due attention; but ſeem'd rather inclin'd to get out of the Room if he could, and once or twice made ſome Attempt to knock for ſome of the Fa⯑mily to come up, at which the Apparition appear'd a little diſpleas'd.

BUT it ſeems he need not; for, as the Doctor ſaid, he had no power to go out of the Room if he had been next the Door, or to knock for Help if any had been at hand.

BUT here the Apparition ſeeing the Doctor ſtill in Confuſion, deſir'd him again to compoſe himſelf, for he would not do him the leaſt Injury, or offer any thing to make him uneaſie; but deſir'd that he would give him leave to deliver the Buſineſs he came about, which when he had heard, perhaps he would ſee leſs cauſe to be ſurpriz'd or apprehenſive than he did now.

BY this time, and by the calm way of Diſcourſe above mention'd, the Doctor recover'd himſelf ſo much, tho' not with any kind of Compoſure, as to ſpeak.

IN the Name of God, ſays the Doctor, what art thou?

[297] I DESIRE you would not be frighted, ſays the Apparition to him again; I am a Stranger to you, and if I tell you my Name, you do not know it; but you may do the Buſineſs without enquiring.

THE Doctor continu'd ſtill diſcompos'd and uneaſie, and ſaid nothing for ſome time.

THE Apparition ſpoke again to him not to be ſurpriz'd, and receiv'd only for Anſwer the old ig⯑norant Queſtion,

IN the Name of God, what art thou?

UPON this the Spectre ſeem'd diſpleas'd, as if the Doctor had not treated him with Reſpect; and expoſtulated a little with him, telling him he could have terrify'd him into a Compliance, but that he choſe to come calmly and quietly to him; and uſed ſome other Diſcourſes, ſo civil and obliging, that by this time he began to be a little more Familiar, and at length the Doctor ask'd,

WHAT is it you would have with me?

AT this the Apparition, as if gratify'd with the Queſtion, began his Story thus.

I LIV'D in the County of—

I do not exactly remember the County he named; but it was in ſome of the Weſtern Counties of England.

where I left a very good Eſtate, which my Grand⯑ſon enjoys at this time. But he is ſued for the Poſ⯑ſeſſion by my two Nephews, the Sons of my younger Brother.

N. B. Here he gave him his own Name, the Name of his younger Brother, and the Names of his two Nephews; but I am not allow'd to publiſh the Names in this Relation, nor might it be proper for many Reaſons.

HERE the Doctor interrupted, and ask'd him how long the Grandſon had been in Poſſeſſion of the Eſtate; which he told him was—Years, intimating that he had been ſo long dead.

[298] THEN he went on, and told him, that his Ne⯑phews would be too hard for his Grandſon in the Suit, and would OUT him of the Manſion-Houſe and Eſtate; ſo that he would be in danger of being entirely ruin'd, and his Family be reduc'd.

STILL the Doctor could not ſee into the Mat⯑ter, or what he could do to help or remedy the Evil that threaten'd the Family; and therefore ask'd him ſome Queſtions: for now they began to be a little better acquainted than at firſt.

SAYS the Doctor, And what am I able to do in it, if the Law be againſt him?

WHY, ſays the Spectre, it is not that the Ne⯑phews have any Right; but the grand Deed of Settlement, being the Conveyance of the Inheri⯑tance, is loſt; and for want of that Deed they will not be able to make out their Title to the Eſtate.

WELL, ſays the Doctor, and ſtill what can I do in the Caſe?

WHY, ſays the Spectre, if you will go down to my Grandſon's Houſe, and take ſuch Perſons with you as you can truſt, I will give you ſuch In⯑ſtructions as that you ſhall find out the Deed or Settlement, which lies concealed in a Place where I put it with my own Hands, and where you ſhall direct my Grandſon to take it out in your Pre⯑ſence.

BUT why then can you not direct your Grand⯑ſon himſelf to do this? ſays the Doctor.

ASK me not about that, ſays the Apparition; there are divers Reaſons which you may know hereafter. I can depend upon your Honeſty in it, in the mean time; and I will ſo diſpoſe Mat⯑ters that you ſhall have your Expences paid you, and be handſomely allow'd for your Trouble.

AFTER this Diſcourſe, and ſeveral other Ex⯑poſtulations, (for the Doctor was not eaſily prevail'd upon to go 'till the Spect [...]e ſeem'd to look angrily, [299] and even to threaten him for refuſing,) he did at laſt Promiſe him to go.

HAVING obtain'd a Promiſe of him, he told him he might let his Grandſon know that he had formerly convers'd with his Grandfather, (but not how lately, or in what Manner,) and ask to ſee the Houſe; and that in ſuch an upper Room or Loft, he ſhould find a great deal of old Lumber, old Coffers, old Cheſts, and ſuch Things as were out of Faſhion now, thrown by, and pil'd up upon one another, to make room for more modiſh Fur⯑niture, Cabinets, Cheſts of Drawers, and the like.

THAT in ſuch a particular Corner was ſuch a certain old Cheſt, with an old broken Lock upon it, and a Key in it, which could neither be turn'd in the Lock, or pull'd out of it.

N. B. Here he gave him a particular Deſcription of the Cheſt, and of the Outſide, the Lock and the Cover, and alſo of the Inſide, and of a pri⯑vate place in it, which no Man could come to, or find out, unleſs the whole Cheſt was pull'd in Pieces.

IN that Cheſt, ſays he, and in that place, lyes the grand Deed, or Charter of the Eſtate, which conveys the Inheritance, and without which the Family will be ruin'd, and turn'd out of Doors.

AFTER this Diſcourſe, and the Doctor pro⯑miſing to go down into the Country and diſpatch this important Commiſſion; the Apparition putting on a very pleaſant and ſmiling Aſpect, thank'd him, and diſappear'd.

AFTER ſome Days, and within the time limit⯑ed by the Propoſal of the Spectre, the Doctor went down accordingly into—ſhire; and find⯑ing the Gentleman's Houſe very readily, by the Direction, knock'd at the Door, and ask'd if he was at home; and after being told he was, and the Servants telling their Maſter it was a Clergyman, the [300] Gentleman came to the Door, and very court [...]ouſly invited him in.

AFTER the Doctor had been there ſome time, he obſerv'd the Gentleman receiv'd him with an unexpected Civility, tho' a Stranger, and without Buſineſs: They enter'd into many friendly Diſcour⯑ſes, and the Doctor pretended to have heard much of the Family, (as, indeed, he had) and of hi Grandfather; from whom, Sir, ſays he, I perceive the Eſtate more immediately deſcends to yourſelf.

AY, ſays the Gentleman, and ſhook his Head, my Father died young, and my Grandfather has left Things ſo confus'd, that for want of one princi⯑pal Writing, which is not yet come to Hand, I have met with a great deal of trouble from a couple of Couſins, my Grandfather's Brother's Children, who have put me to a great deal of Charge about it. And with that the Doctor ſeem⯑ing a little inquiſitive.

BUT I hope you have got over it, Sir? ſays he.

NO truly, ſays the Gentleman, to be ſo open with you, we ſhall never get quite over it unleſs we can find this old Deed; which, however, I hope we ſhall find, for I intend to make a general Search for it.

I WISH with all my Heart you may find it, Sir, ſays the Doctor.

I DON'T doubt but I ſhall; I had a ſtrange Dream about it but laſt Night, ſays the Gentle⯑man.

A DREAM about the Writing! ſays the Doctor, I hope it was that you ſhould find it then?

I DREAM'D, ſays the Gentleman, that a ſtrange Gentleman came to me, that I had never ſeen in my Life, and help'd me to look it. I don't know but you may be the Man.

I SHOULD be very glad to be the Man, I am ſure, ſays the Doctor.

[301] NAY, ſays the Gentleman, you may be the Man to help me look it.

AY, Sir, ſays the Doctor, I may help you look it indeed, and I'll do that too with all my Heart; but I wou'd much rather be the Man that ſhould help you find it: Pray when do you intend to make a ſearch?

TO-MORROW, ſays the Gentleman, I had ap⯑pointed to do it.

BUT, ſays the Doctor, in what manner do you intend to ſearch?

WHY, ſays the Gentleman, 'tis all our Opinion [...] that my Grandfather was ſo very much concern'd to preſerve this Writing, and had ſo much Jealou⯑ſy that ſome that were about him would take it from him if they could, that he has hid it in ſome ſecret Place; and I'm reſolv'd I'll pull half the Houſe down but I'll find it, if it be above Ground.

TRULY, ſays the Doctor, he may have hid it ſo, that you muſt pull the Houſe down before you find it, and perhaps not then either. I have known ſuch things utterly loſt, by the very Care taken to preſerve them.

IF it was made of ſomething the Fire wou'd not deſtroy, ſays the Gentleman, I'd burn the Houſe down but I'd find it.

I SUPPOSE you have ſearch'd all the old Gen⯑tleman's Cheſ [...]s, and Trunks, and Coffers over and over? ſays the Doctor.

AY, ſays the Gentleman, and turn'd them all in⯑ſide outward, and there they lie of a heap up in a great Loft, or Garret, with nothing in them; nay, we knock'd three or four of them in Pieces to ſearch for private Drawers, and then I burnt them for Anger, tho' they were fine old Cypreſs Cheſts, that coſt Money enough when they were in Faſhion.

I'M ſorry you burnt them, ſays the Doctor.

[302] NAY, ſays the Gentleman, I did not burn a ſcrap of them 'till they were all ſplit to Pieces; and it was not poſſible there cou'd be any thing there.

N. B. This made the Doctor a little eaſy; for he began to be ſurpriz'd when he told him he had ſplit ſome of them out, and burnt them.

WELL, Sir, ſays the Doctor, if I can do you any Service in your Search, I'll come and ſee you again to-morrow, and wait upon your Search with my good Wiſhes.

NAY, ſays the Gentleman, I don't deſign to part with you; ſince you are ſo kind to offer me your Help, you ſhall ſtay all Night then, and be at the firſt of it.

THE Doctor had now gain'd his Point ſo far as to make himſelf acquainted and deſirable in the Houſe, and to have a kind of Intimacy; ſo that tho' he made as if he would go, he did not want much En [...]reaties to make him ſtay; ſo he conſented [...]o lie in the Houſe all Night.

A LITTLE before Evening the Gentleman ask'd him to take a Walk in his Park, but he put it off with a Jeſt; I had rather, Sir, ſaid he ſmiling, you'd let me ſee this fine old Manſion Houſe that is to be demoliſh'd to-morrow; methinks I'd fain ſee the Houſe once, before you pull it down.

WITH all my Heart, ſays the Gentleman. So he carry'd him immediately up Stairs, ſhew'd him all the beſt Apartments, and all his fine Furniture and Pictures; and coming to the Head of the great Stair-Caſe where they came up, offer'd to go down again.

BUT, Sir, ſays the Doctor, ſhall we not go up higher?

THERE'S nothing there, ſays he, but Garrets and old Lo [...]ts full of Rubbiſh, and a Place to go out into the Turret, and the Clock-houſe.

[303] O, LET me ſee it all, now we are a going, ſays the Doctor. I love to ſee the old lofty Towers and Turrets, the Magnificence of our Anceſtors, tho' they are out of Faſhion now; Pray let us ſee all, now we are going.

WHY, it will tire you, ſays the Gentleman.

NO, no, ſays the Doctor, if it don't tire you that have ſeen it ſo often, it won't tire me, I aſſure you: Pray let us go up. So away the Gentleman goes, and the Doctor after him.

AFTER they had rambled over the wild Part of an old-built great Houſe, which I need not de⯑ſcribe, he paſſes by a great Room, the Door of which was open, and in it a great deal of old Lum⯑ber: And what Place is this, pray? ſays the Doctor, looking in at the Door, but not offering to go in.

O! THAT'S the Room, ſays the Gentleman ſoftly, becauſe there was a Servant attending them, that's the Room I told you of, where all the old Rubbiſh lay, the Cheſts, the Coffe [...]s, and the Trunks; look there, ſee how they are pil'd up upon one ano⯑ther almoſt to the Ceiling.

WITH this the Doctor goes in and looks about him; for this was the Place he was directed to, and which he wanted to ſee: He was not in the Room two Minutes but he found every thing juſt as the Spectre at London had deſcrib'd, went di⯑rectly to the Pile he had been told of, and fixes his Eye upon the very Cheſt with the old ruſty Lock upon it, with the Key in it, which would neither turn round, nor come out.

ON my Word, Sir, ſays the Doctor, you have taken Pains enough, if you have rumag'd all theſe Drawers, and Cheſts, and Coffers, and every thing that may have been in them.

INDEED, Sir, ſays the Gentleman, I have emptied every one of them myſelf, and look'd over all the [304] old muſty Writings one by one; with ſome help, indeed; but they, every one, paſt thro' my own Hand, and under my Eye.

WELL, Sir, ſays the Doctor, I ſee you have been in earneſt, and I find the thing is of great Con⯑ſequence to you: I have a ſtrange Fancy come in⯑to my Head this very Moment; will you gratify my Curioſity with but opening and emptying one ſmall Cheſt or Coffer that I have caſt my Eye up⯑on? there may be nothing in it, for you are ſatis⯑fy'd, I believe, that I was never here before; but I have a ſtrange Notion that there are ſome pri⯑vate Places in it which you have not found; per⯑haps there may be nothing in them, when they are found.

THE Gentleman looks at the Cheſt ſmiling, I remember opening it very well; and turning to his Servant, Will, ſays he, don't you remember that Cheſt? Yes, Sir, ſays Will, very well, I remember you were ſo weary you ſat down upon the Cheſt when every thing was out of it, you clap'd down the Lid and ſat down, and ſent me to my Lady to bring you a Dram of Citron; you ſaid you were ſo tir'd you was ready to faint.

WELL, Sir, 'twas only a Fancy of mine, and very likely to have nothing in it.

'TIS no matter for that, ſays the Gentleman, you ſhall ſee it turn'd bottom up again before your Face, and ſo you ſhall all the reſt, if you do but ſpeak the Word.

WELL, Sir, ſays the Doctor, if you will oblige me but with that one, I'll trouble you no far⯑ther.

IMMEDIATELY the Gentleman cauſes the Coffer to be drag'd out, and open'd; for it would not be lock'd, the Key would neither lock it nor unlock it: when the Papers were all out, the Do⯑ctor turning his Face another way, as if he would [305] look among the Papers, but taking little or no Notice of the Cheſt, ſtoop'd down, and as if ſup⯑porting himſelf with his Cane, chops his Cane in⯑to the Cheſt, but ſnatcht it out again haſtily, as if it had been a Miſtake, and turning to the Cheſt he claps the Lid of it down, and ſits down upon it, as if he was a weary too.

HOWEVER he takes an Opportunity to ſpeak to the Gentleman ſoftly, to ſend away his Man a Moment; for I wou'd ſpeak a Word or two with you, Sir, ſays he, out of his hearing; and then re⯑collecting himſelf, Sir, ſays he aloud, can you not ſend for a Hammer and a Chiſel?

YES, Sir, ſays the Gentleman. Go, Will, ſays he to his Man, fetch a Hammer and Chiſel.

AS ſoon as Will was gone, Now, Sir, ſays he, let me ſay a bold Word to you; I have found your Writing; I have found your Grand Deed of Set⯑tlement; I'll lay you a hundred Guineas I have it in this Coffer?

THE Gentleman takes up the Lid again, han⯑dles the Cheſt, looks over every Part of it, but could ſee nothing; he is confounded and amaz'd! What d'ye mean? ſays he to the Doctor, you have no unuſual Art I hope, no Conjuring in hand; here's nothing but an empty Coffer?

NOT I upon my Word, ſays the Doctor, I am no Magician, no Cunning-Man, I abhor it; but I tell you again the Writing is in this Coffer.

THE Gentleman knocks, and calls as if he was frighted, for his Man with the Hammer, but the Doctor ſat compos'd again upon the Lid of the Coffer.

AT laſt up comes the Man with the Hammer and Chiſel, and the Doctor goes to work with the Cheſt, knocks upon the flat of the Bottom; Hark! ſays he, don't you hear it, Sir, ſays he, don't you hear it plainly?

[306] HEAR what? ſays the Gentleman. I don't under⯑ſtand you, indeed.

WHY the Cheſt has a double Bottom, Sir, a falſe Bottom, ſays the Doctor; don't you hear it ſound hollow?

IN a Word, they immediately ſplit the inner Bottom open, and there lay the Parchment ſpread abroad flat on the whole breadth of the Bottom of the Trunk, as a Quire of Paper is laid on the flat of a Drawer.

IT is impoſſible for me to deſcribe the Joy and Surprize of the Gentleman, and ſoon after of the whole Family; for the Gentleman ſent for his La⯑dy, and two of his Daughters, up into the Garret among all the Rubbiſh, to ſee not the Writing only, but the Place where it was found, and the Manner how.

YOU may eaſily ſuppoſe the Doctor was careſs'd with uncommon Civilities in the Family, and ſent up (after about a Week's ſtay) in the Gentleman's own Coach to London. I do not remember whe⯑ther he diſclos'd the Secret to the Gentleman, or no; I mean the Secret of the Apparition, by which the Place where the Writing was to be found, was diſcover'd to him, and who oblig'd him to come down on purpoſe to find it: I ſay, I do not remem⯑ber that Part, neither is it material. As far as I had the Story related, ſo far I have handed it for⯑ward; and I have the truth of it affirmed in ſuch a manner, as I cannot doubt it.

NOW to obſerve a little upon this Paſſage, which I am oblig'd to ſay is reported to me for Truth, and I firmly believe it to be ſo: Certain it is, that finding this Writing was of the utmoſt Importance to the Family; and tho' I am not indeed inclin'd to publiſh Names to the Story, or to examine in⯑to the Particulars, by diſcourſing with the Perſons, for ſome may be yet Living, yet I ſay the Eſtabliſhment [307] of not a Family only, but a Generation of Families, might depend upon this Writing, and that no doubt made the antient Gentleman lay it up ſo ſafe. But why then might not Providence permit, nay even direct one of thoſe Intelligent Spi⯑rits or Angels, mention'd above, to give this Notice, and in this manner, where the main and only Deed or Charter for the Inheritance was to be found? as well as it has upon many like Occaſions, or in Ca⯑ſes alike in their Importance, made ſtrange and unaccountable Diſcoveries of Things hid for many Ages; and this without Apparition, but by a ma⯑nifeſt concurrence of Cauſes and Accidents next to Miracles.

I CANNOT think but that Providence, whoſe Concern for the good and ſafety of his Creatures is ſo Univerſal, and who it muſt be acknowledg'd is not unconcern'd even in the minuteſt Circum⯑ſtances, may think meet to bring ſuch a thing as this to Light, upon which the good and welfare of a whole Family did ſo much depend; and even to appear in an extraordinary Manner in it, without any Impeachment of its Wiſdom or its Power; and if the ſame Providence that thought fit to ſave this Family from ſo much Injuſtice as at that time threaten'd it, thought fit to do it, by the Agency of a Spirit coming in Apparition to a third Per⯑ſon, ſo to bring it about as in the ordinary Me⯑thod, what have we to do to diſpute the man⯑ner? or what juſt Objection lies againſt it?

UPON the whole, here's no Devil here, no ima⯑ginary Phantoms in the Air, no Voices and Noiſes deluſive and impoſing upon the Fancy one way o [...] other; no Soul appearing, and pretending it can⯑not be at reſt; and yet here is an Apparition di⯑recting to find out what was in Being, and was to be found, and what Juſtice required ſhould be produc'd.

[308] NOR could this be the Devil: that wicked A⯑gent goes up and down upon a much worſe Em⯑ployment. He is buſy enough, that's true; but 'tis wid'ning breaches in Families, not healing them; in prompting Miſchief, not preventing it; tempting Man to Robbery, to Whoredom, to Murther; not moving them to repent. As is the Errand, ſuch is the Meſſenger; as is the Work, ſuch is the La⯑bourer; and the way of judging is as juſt as it is certain, 'tis eaſy and plain, we cannot fail to know who and who's together.

'TIS the ſame in our moſt retir'd Thoughts; we may very well know who talks to us, by the Diſcourſe, who tempts us, by the Miſchief he tempts to. My good, wicked, pious, helliſh Friend and old Acquaintance Z—G—muſt never tell me, that he does not know by whoſe Di⯑rection he tranſacts, and who he converſes with, when he is bid to break Oaths and Promiſes under the cover of Conſcience; when he aſſaults Innocence by Clamour, and levies War by Slander, againſt Reputati⯑on and Virtue on pretence of Zeal to Truth; black⯑ning Characters in pretence of giving the Innocent Perſon opportunity to clear himſelf; I ſay he muſt not do this without knowing from whence he de⯑rives the extraordinary Motion to it, what Spirit prompts, and from whoſe dictates he takes the Di⯑rection.

WHEN he daubs on purpoſe to waſh, and ſul⯑lies with intention to clean the Faces of his Inno⯑cent Neighbours, he knows as well as I, he is actuated from Hell, and agitated ab Inferis; becauſe he knows that all Hypocri [...]y is from the Devil; and as he knows himſelf to be a moſt accompliſh'd Che [...]t, even from the outſide of his Face to the inſide of his Soul, he may ſing after my Lord of Rocheſter in his Sarcaſm upon a much honeſter Man,

'TIS a ſtrange Hypothe [...]is, that a late Viſioniſt in thoſe pieces of ſecret Hiſtory attack'd me with t'other Day, viz. That he would undertake to prove from the late Reverend and Learned (but to himſelf unintelligible) Jacob Behemen, that a Man's Soul was capable of comprehending GOD, Futu⯑rity, Eternity, and all occult and retir'd things of the utmoſt importance, but it ſelf; but that, for divers wiſe Reaſons, the light of ſelf-knowledge was hid from his Eyes; except by immediate Re⯑velation; which immediate Revelation Friend Ja⯑cob pretended to have attained, only with this un⯑happy diſaſter attending it, viz. That he could ne⯑ver expreſs himſelf, no not to his own Underſtand⯑ing; ſo that indeed he underſtood this only, name⯑ly, that he could not underſtand what he did un⯑derſtand.

NOW to leave Friend Jacob to his own Quib⯑bles, and to his three and twenty Parentheſis, like a neſt of Boxes one within another, and never to be prolated; 'tis my Opinion, that if Mankind will be faithful to themſelves, they may always know themſelves; that Friend—G—not only always has the Devil in him, but always knows it; as it is certain, that he that wilfully Lyes and Cheats always knows that he Lyes and Cheats; ſo it is impoſſible T—E—ſhould be a compleat Rogue, and not know it; he may be in⯑deed not able to know how much a Rogue he is, 'till the Devil and he have drawn out the Thread to its full length, and tried him effectually, ſearch'd him to the bottom, and ſeen whether he will ſtop at any thing or no; and what the wicked thing can be that is too groſs for him. But he cannot be [310] ignorant of himſelf in the main; he cannot be ſo blind to his own Inſide, as not to know that he is an Original Knave; that he has broken in upon Principles, betray'd Truſt, cheated Orphans, abus'd Widows, ſold Friendſhip; and a thouſand ſuch things as theſe already; and that he has nothing for it, but to put as good an Outſide upon it as he can, to have the Face of an honeſt Man upon the Heart of a Hypocrite, and to be ſure to be a Cheat to the World, to the end of the Chapter.

INDEED it might not have been improper to have repreſented thoſe two worthy Gentlemen as Apparitions, for that they are ſuch is a moſt im⯑proving Truth, and what it may be much for the Service of the World to have publickly known: But as we are now ſpeaking of Apparitions which repreſent Men and things as they really are, it ſeems firſt needful to bring their inſides to be their outſides, and then the World may know them by their ſhadows as well as by their ſubſtance; and for this I doubt we muſt wait a while, the Iſſue of an Aſſizes or two; for certainly, if Juſtice takes place, they may both be heard of at the Gallows.

BUT to bring it home to the preſent purpoſe, I inſiſt that no Man can be deceiv'd in himſelf; he may know whether he is a Knave or an honeſt Man, whether he is a Subſtance, or an Apparition, whether he be a Re [...]lity or a Shadow; and that Ja⯑cob Behemen advanc'd only a Deluſion proper for a Knave, pretending that a Man might be honeſt when he believ'd himſelf to be a Knave, and be a Knave when he thought himſelf honeſt.

BUT to return to the Affair of the Writing found in the Cheſt, and which, according to the Notion which ſome have of theſe things, the Soul of the antient Gentlemen above came in Apparition to diſcover; our Queſtion is firſt How did he come to know in his determin'd State, his State of Soul⯑Exiſtence, [311] be that where it would, I ſay, How did he come to know, that the Writing was not diſcover'd, and that his Grandſon was in danger of coming to any injury about it? How did he know that the Law-Suit was commenc'd, the thing proſecuted ſo far, and the damage like to be ſuffer'd ſo very much?

HE might know where it was, if not found; becauſe he hid it there, becauſe he laid it up with ſo much care; but he could not know what Cir⯑cumſtance had been attending the caſe ſince that time, what proceedings had been at Law, and how things ſtood with the Family; if he could, then the Text quoted before out of Job cannot be true, that the Son riſeth and falleth, and the Father knoweth it not.

'TIS obſervable that this Apparition, which came to Doctor Scot, did not alledge that he could not reſt 'till this matter was diſcover'd; he ſeem'd con⯑cern'd that the Family would be uneaſy, and that they were ſo; and that there was great danger, they might loſe the Eſtate; but did not pretend he could not reſt in Peace, or as the other, that he could not go to Heaven 'till it was diſcover'd.

I CANNOT but wonder a little at the Ignorance of the Ancients, in that Notion of the Soul's wan⯑dring in the Air all the while the Body was with⯑out a Funeral Obſequy; for according to their Do⯑ctrine, thoſe Souls who had no ſuch Funeral Pyre prepared for them, muſt have been wandring in the Air to this Day, and will be ſo for ever; not be⯑ing able to get admittance either in one place or other.

NO wonder the Air is ſaid to be ſo fill'd with wandring Spirits, with Daemons and Ghoſts, as ſome are of the Opinion it is; for where muſt all the Millions of Spirits be gone, who have lain without Burial, or been caſt into the Sea, or been [312] overwhelm'd with Earthquakes and Storms, or died by Plagues, where the living have nor been ſuffici⯑ent to bury the dead? and the like in many publick Calamities.

I KNOW the Roman Catholicks have a way of performing a Service for the dead by Thouſands; and in particular for the Souls of the dead, ſlain in ſuch and ſuch a Battel: whether that has any relati⯑on to this old Pagan Notion, or not, I will not ſay. I know Popery has pretty much of the Pagan in their Original, I mean of their Worſhip; but will ſaying one Service for the dead anſwer the End, whether they have any Burial or no, and tho' their Bodies are left, as Achilles ſays of Hector, for greedy or hungry Dogs to rend? This they do not anſwer, and I doubt cannot; ſo that perhaps all thoſe Souls kill'd in fight are wandring ſtill in the Air, and can⯑not have admittance, no not to the Shades below.

ON the other hand, if the poor Soldiers be⯑liev'd, that if they were kill'd in fight, they were to wander for ever, and not be pray'd out of Pur⯑g [...]ory; nay, not be admitted into it; few of them but would chuſe to be hang'd, provided they might be admitted to be bury'd under the Gallows, rather than go to the War and die in the Bed of Honour.

THEY tell us (who pretend to know) that the Corps of the deceas'd Princes of France, as well Kings as Princes of the Blood, are not buried, but depoſited in the Abbey of St. Dennis near Paris, 'till the immediate Succeſſor is Dead; and that then the Pr [...]d [...]ceſſor is buried, and the next is de⯑poſited; ſo that there is always one kept above Ground.

I DO not take upon me to determine the Matter, or to ſay whether it is really ſo or not: But if ſo, and i [...] ſhould be as in the caſe of Patroclus, that thoſe H [...]roes are then to be out of the happy Regions, [313] I muſt ſay their Kings are but little behold⯑en to that Cuſtom, and Lewis XIII had a hard time of it, to have his Son hold it 70 Years, and keep him all that while even out of Purgatory; and how long he has to ſtay there, who knows? but 'tis c [...]tain, he might have been 40 or 50 Years onward of his way by this time, if he had not been ſo many Years unburied.

BUT enough of this Pagan and Popiſh Frippery: our buſineſs is to talk to the more rational World; their Fate is before them; all Men die, and after Death to Judgment, nothing can interrupt it, and what their Sons do or ſuffer behind them they know not.

CHAP. XIII. Of the Conſequence of this Doctrine; and ſee⯑ing that Apparitions are real, and may be ex⯑pected upon many Occaſions, and that we are ſure they are not the Souls of our departed Friends; how are we to act, and how to behave to them, when they come among us, and when they pretend to be ſuch and ſuch, and ſpeak in the firſt Perſon of thoſe depart⯑ed Friends, as if they were really them⯑ſelves?

HAVING thus ſettled the main point, and de⯑termin'd what Apparition is not; namely, not an Angel immediately from Heaven; not a return'd unembodied Soul; and having advanc'd, in Eſſay at leaſt, what we are to ſuppoſe them to be; namely, a good or evil Spirit from the Inviſible World; and having ſettled the Rule of judging whether of [314] the two, whether a good or an evil, according to the apparent good or evil of their Deſign; it is time now to bring the matter into Practice; to ſet⯑tle the grand Preliminary, and determine, ſince this is their Behaviour to us, how we are to behave to them.

NOR is this a needleſs Enquiry, for we find the World at a great loſs on ſuch Occaſions. Men are exceedingly terrified and diſcorded upon the very Apprehenſions of ſeeing any thing as they call it from the Inviſible World; even the great King Belſhazzar, tho' in the midſt of his whole Court, the Lords of 127 Provinces, a full Aſſembly of La⯑dies and Courtiers; yet when he ſaw but a piece of an Apparition, (for it was but one Hand) yet his Countenance chang'd, and the joynts of his Knees were looſed, and his Knees ſmote one againſt another, Dan. v. 6. Charles VIII of France was not frighted only, but frighted out of his Wits, with an Appa⯑rition in the Foreſt of Mans, and never recover'd his Senſes any more; and we have ſeveral inſtances in Story, of Men, even of the greateſt Reſolution, who have loſt all their Courage, and all their Re⯑ſolution, when they have had but a ſhort Viſit of this kind, tho' without receiving any injury from them.

BUT whence is it, that the Mind is thus ſur⯑priz'd? why is our Averſion ſo great to any ap⯑pearance from the other World, without ſo much as enquiring into the Particulars?

THERE are many Reaſons indeed to be aſſign'd to prove why it is ſo; but not one good Reaſon that I know of to prove it ſhould be ſo, or that we have any Occaſion to be ſo alarm'd and diſturb'd at theſe Appearances; I mean, when the Mind has any degree of Compoſure: It is true, they come from an Inviſible Place, and that is one of the Reaſons of our fright; becauſe, as we ſay, we know not [315] whence they are, of what Errand they come, with what Commiſſion, and with what Power to execute that Commiſſion; all theſe uncertainties bring a Ter⯑ror upon the Spirits; the Soul receives a ſhock; the Man is like one of thoſe poor People where they are in an Earthquake, they ſee the Buildings totter and fall before them, and tho' they are not bury'd in the Ruins, but are perhaps eſcap'd out into the Fields; yet they feel the Earth roll and move under them, and they are doubtful and apprehenſive le [...]t they may be ſwallowed up every Moment; and, accord⯑ing to the old Poet, it is Matter of real Terror;

THIS uncertainty of the Mind in the caſe of Apparitions, is the real ground of Fear; (viz.) that we know not

WHENCE their Errand comes, WHAT Commiſſion they have, WHAT Power to execute the Commiſſion.

FIRST, WE don't know whence they are, and from whom their Errand, nor indeed can we be eaſie in the uncertainty: The reaſon is, there is a ſecret doubt of the Mind, founded upon Guilt: Here the Atheiſt bauks his aſſurance, and tho' he pretends to believe neither God or Devil, ſtaggers at a Meſſen⯑ger that comes for ought he knows from one or both of them, to convince him by immediate de⯑monſtration. Here his Heart fails him, he turns pale, ſtarts at the ſight, and would be glad to be aſſur'd there were really both, that one might pro⯑tect him from the other.

WHILE he knows not whether the Meſſage comes from Heaven or Hell, whether the Meſſenger [316] may be Angel or Devil, the uncertainty attend⯑ed with the real Danger of the worſt, leaves him in Horror, and he fears Hell becauſe he knows he has provok'd Heaven, he fears the Devil becauſe he knows he that can command the Devil is his E⯑nemy.

IN a Word, a ſenſe of God makes men afraid of the Devil, as they ſay fear of the Devil gives a ſenſe of Homage to God.

SECONDLY, WE tremble at the Meſſen⯑ger, becauſe we don't know what his Meſſage may be; we dread the Officer, becauſe we dread his Commiſſion; we are afraid of what he has to ſay; we know we have no reaſon to expect good News from the place, which we ſuppoſe he comes from, and therefore we turn pale at his coming, nor is it poſſible to be otherwiſe.

THERE are but two Principles that fortifie the Mind againſt the Fears of a future State, no not that ſeeming [...]y fortifie it; and theſe are,

1. INNOCENCE, or a good Heart founded in Religion, Virtue, and an exact rectitude of beha⯑viour. OR,

2. IMPUDENCE, a harden'd ſhutting the Eyes againſt Conv [...]ction, and the Ears againſt Con⯑ſcience.

IT is with ſome Perplexity that I found my ſelf oblig'd to give a Character in another place of a fam'd Man of pretended Brightneſs and Wit: He was always merry, a conſtant Smile ſat upon his Countenance, a perfect eaſineſs poſſeſs'd his Mind, he knew not a Moment of Melancholly or Cha⯑grin. He never ſigh'd, becauſe he ſeldom pray'd or griev'd; I wiſh I could have ſaid, becauſe he ne⯑ver ſinn'd. His Heart was light as his Head; and as for his Heels, he always walk'd in Minuit and Ri⯑gadoons. His Mirth was as uninterrupted as his Breath, and he laugh'd by the Conſequence of Reſpiration; [317] his Voice was a natural Muſic, and his Rhetoric was all Sonnet and Solfa's.

SURE, ſaid I, my Couſin M—D—muſt have the cleareſt Conſcience in the Univerſe, he has not the leaſt Scar upon his Inſide; and if he was to ſee the Devil, he could not change Colour, or have the leaſt Heſitation at the moſt frightful Ap⯑pearance: He muſt be all Innocence and Virtue.

BUT I miſtook my Kinſman moſt extremely, for on the contrary, his Soul is blacker than Negro Sancho, the Beauty of Africa; he boaſts himſelf of the moſt harden'd Crime, defies Heaven, deſpiſes Ter⯑ror, and is got above Fear by the meer force of a flagrant Aſſurance.

HE would no more value ſeeing the Devil in his moſt fiery formidable Appearance, than he would to ſee a ſtorm of Fire in the Tempeſt, or a Harle⯑quin Diable in Freſco; if you will take his Character from himſelf, he has no more fear about him, than he has Conſcience, and that's ſo little, 'tis not worth naming. He knows no Sorrow, no Chagrin; he was born Laughing, and intends to die Jeſting: and what is all this founded upon? not glorious Inno⯑cence mention'd above, but notorious Impudence.

IT'S true indeed, I had not car'd to ſpeak ſo groſly of one of my near Relations, but he will have it be ſo; he ſpeaks it of himſelf, bids me take notice of it, that 'tis the Character he gives me of himſelf, and d—s me with a full Stream of Bil⯑linſgate, if I dare to give any other Character of him than what he gives of himſelf.

I MUST acknowledge I did believe the Devil and my Couſin were not much at Strife, that he did [318] not fear the old Dragon, b [...]cauſe he had never done any thing to diſoblige him; but it ſeems the Caſe differs, and he defies the Devil purely upon the ſame foot that he defies him that made the Devil; and acts the Fury meerly as a Fury, not as a Man of Senſe or as a Man of Courage.

ALL that I have to ſay to this, is, that this will laſt juſt 'till the Rage is abated, and no longer; 'till the Blood cools, and the Spirits return to their na⯑tural Courſe, and then the Wretch will be as cold as now he is hot, as calm as now he is outragious, and as baſe and low-ſpirited as now he is fiery and furious.

ALL the hot-headed Courage of theſe Men, is only a Flaſh, a Meteor in the Air; when they are cool'd, when the Exhalation is ſpent, they are as phlegmatic as other People; and then they look pale, the Countenance changes, and the Knees knock one againſt another, as well as other People's.

THERE'S no ſcorning the Terrors of a Meſſen⯑ger from the other World, but by a ſettled eſta⯑bliſhed Compoſure of the Soul; founded on the Ba⯑ſis of Peace within, Peace of Conſcience, Peace and Innocence, or Peace and Penitence, which is in effect all one: This is the only Face that a Man can hold up to the Devil; with a clean Heart, he may boldly ſee the Devil, talk to him, deſpiſe him, and tell him he ſcorns him, for that he has nothing at all to do with him.

BUT this is not our preſent Condition; few Peo⯑ple wear this Armour in our days; they neither va⯑lue it or know the uſe of it, and therefore 'tis that we are ſo full of Terror and Diſturbance when we ſee the Devil; at leaſt if we think he has any thing to ſay to us.

BUT now for the great Queſtion, Why it ſhould be ſo? as I ſaid, 'tis Truth too evident that it is ſo, [319] but to ſay that it ſhould be ſo, that requires another kind of Sophiſtry to make out.

IT is true, it requires a great deal of Courage, and of cool Courage too, in bearing up the Soul againſt the Surprize of ſuch things as theſe; a Man muſt be able to talk to the Devil in a Dialect which he (Satan) himſelf does not very well underſtand, to bid him be gone, to bid him Get thee behind me, and the like; 'tis an authoritative way of talking that every one cannot ſupport; and if the Devil is ſenſible of it, he will not fail to exert himſelf to the utmoſt, to maintain the Right which he ſeems to enjoy, and keep the Hold he has gotten; for he knows how ill his Cauſe is to be defended by Ju⯑ſtice and Reaſon, and if he ſhould anſwer as he did to the Sons of Scev [...] the Jew, what then if you ſhould ſay to him, in the vulgar and ignorant Dia⯑lect of ſpeaking to Spirits, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghoſt, Who art thou? or, I charge thee in the Name of the Father, &c. to be gone, and diſturb me no more.

I SAY, if the Devil ſhould anſwer, The Father I know, and the Son I know, and the Holy Ghoſt I know, but who are you, you that pretend to uſe their Names thus? What would you ſay for your ſelf?

NOW that we may know how to anſwer the Devil, as well as how to ſpeak to him, (for both are very neceſſary) let me enter into the State of the Caſe a little, between the Devil and us; nay, be⯑tween all the Inhabitants of the inviſible World, and their Friends in this, let them be who, or of what kind they will.

FIRST, In order to be free from the Surprize of theſe things, you muſt endeavour to eſtabliſh your Mind in the right underſtanding of the thing call'd Apparition; that you may reaſon your ſelf into a ſufficient Firmneſs, and Steadineſs of Soul [320] againſt all the whimſical and imaginary Part of it.

LET us think of things as they are, not as they are only imagined, and ſuppoſed to be; for 'tis the Reality of the thing, not the Shadow, that can fright and diſorder us, that is to ſay, that can have any juſt Reaſon to do ſo.

FOR want of this we are often ſcared and terri⯑fy'd with Dreams and Viſions, even when we are awake, and when really there is no ſuch thing in Subſtance or Reality as any Viſion or Apparition, other than Apprehenſion throws in upon us, and other than our bewitched Imagination repreſents to us.

IT is abſolutely neceſſary, if you would not be al⯑ways looking over your Shoulders, and always form⯑ing Spectres to your Fancy: I ſay, 'tis neceſſary to have a right Notion of Apparition in general; to know what it is, and what it muſt be, whence it comes, and what the utmoſt of its Commiſſion can be; that you may think your ſelf into a true and clea [...] Underſtanding of it, and then your Fears about it will be regulated after another manner. For Example:

1. ESTABLISH your Mind in this particular and fundamental Article, that whatever appears it muſt be either a good Spirit from the inviſible World, an Agent of Mercy, a Meſſenger of Peace, and conſequently will do you no Hurt: OR,

2. AN evil Spirit, an Agent of Hell from Satan's Region and Empire, the Air; and that ſo what⯑ever evil Deſign or evil Meſſage he pretends to come about, and however miſchievous his Inten⯑tion is, he cannot do the Hurt he deſires, becauſe that as the good Spirits are under Direction, ſo the bad are under Limitation; the one will not, and the other cannot hurt you, without an imme⯑diate Command from above. The Fear therefore [321] which we have upon us concerning Apparition, is not or ought not to be guided by their Appear⯑ance, but by the rectitude of our own Thoughts; and as we are or are not quiet and calm within, ſo we ſhall or ſhall not be under Apprehenſions from without.

FORTIFY your Minds then with a ſteady Con⯑fidence in the Supreme Maker and Governour of all things, who has the great red Dragon in a Chain; and when you think you ſee the Devil, fear nothing, for He will never let looſe the De⯑ſtroyer upon any one whoſe Mind is ſteadily fix'd upon himſelf.

THIS is a critical, and perhaps a too curious Piece of Practice for me to meddle with, eſpeci⯑ally here, and muſt be but gently touch'd at; you will, it may be, object too againſt the Doctrine of it, and ſay, Who can ſo effectually truſt in God, as not to be at all afraid of the Devil? Now, tho' this may ſeem true upon many Accounts, and, as Times go with us, may be really a juſt Obje⯑ction, yet, if we will believe Hiſtory or Experi⯑ence, it is not ſo much a Difficulty as to ſay Who can do it? for it has been done.

I REMEMBER the known and famous Story of a Maid under a real and perſonal Poſſeſſion of the Devil, at Little Gadſden in Hertfordſhire, tho' by an unhappy Diſappointment I was not preſent, not knowing of the thing time enough; yet I ſaw and convers'd with ſeveral that were preſent and heard the Devil ſpeak in the Maid and by the Or⯑gan of her Voice, tho' without any apparent Motion of her Tongue or Lips, or any Part of her Mouth.

OF this Perſon it was poſitively true, that there was a certain good Man, tho' a Lay Chriſtian, who ſo frequently pray'd with the poor Demoniack, being a Neighbour of her Father's, and ſo conſtantly talk'd to the Devil, and batter'd [322] him with Scripture, that he was, as I might ſay, the Devil's Terror, and he would not let the Girl go to any Houſe or into any Room where this Man (whoſe Name was Monks) was; and if ſhe was directed to any Place he would ſtop her, as if he was to go and ſee firſt if Mr. Monks was there or not, and then he would bid her go, for Monks was not there.

NOW, as I am well aſſured of the Truth both of the Girl's being poſſeſſed, really actuated by a De⯑vil in her, and of this Devil being afraid of Mr. Monks; then the Q [...]ſtion above is ſo far directly anſwer'd, that it is poſſible to arrive to ſuch a State, as not only not to be afraid of the Devil, but even to make the Devil afraid of us. I confeſs it would be a State of Felicity that would make Life very eaſie to us up⯑on many Accounts; and I could enlarge very pleaſant⯑ly (to my ſelf) upon that Subject. But as things go with the World, I queſtion much whether it would be ſo pleaſant to thoſe I am writing to, and there⯑fore I leave it: and ſo if I have been preaching a little, it is ſo little in length, and I hope ſo much to the purpoſe, that you may forgive me for once, e [...]pecially upon Promiſe of ſaying as little for your Good for the time to come, as I can.

THERE is indeed a right worthy and commend⯑able State of Indifference, not only as to Who ſhall or ſhall not viſit us from the inviſible World, and from what Part of it they come; but alſo as to what Station we are to have among them hereafter; and this happy Temper is much recommended to me by ſome of my faſhionable Friends, as a moſt deſirable Condition of Life: to be perfectly eaſy, void of Anxiety and Perplexities of any kind, and forming the moſt perfect Compoſure of Soul that can be imagined.

THEY deſcribe this the moſt accurately indeed by the Practice, for they ſay moſt feelingly, that [323] no Tongue can expreſs the Felicity of it; which indeed I believe is very true; they are perfectly eaſy about, becauſe thoughtleſs of, that dull remote thing called Futurity. As for there being a State of Life, or a Something like Life after Death, they can't ſay but it may be ſo, for they never enquired much in⯑to the Principles of the Saduces, or into any other Pricinciples about it. But what that State is to be, or what we are to be, or not to be, in it, they ne⯑ver trouble themſelves about it; they look upon it as a thing remote, which People are not agreed about, and they believe never will, 'till they come there; and to be beating their Heads and perplexing their Thoughts, about what, when they have done all, they are ſure they ſhall never arrive to a Cer⯑tainty about, they do not ſee 'tis to the Purpoſeat all.

THIS is certainly a mighty brief Way with their Doubts, and a ſhort anſwer to all Enquiries; and I muſt own 'tis putting a ſhort end to all Diſputes with themſelves, about the thing called a future State.

BUT there remains a Queſtion ſtill unanſwer'd, and which is a Queſtion of moment with me, what⯑ever it may be with them, viz. Where is the Feli⯑city of this kind of Calm?

O, ſays a Deiſt of my Acquaintance, Peace of Mind is a Felicity, I hope.

Yes, ſaid I, if it be built upon a right Founda⯑tion.

Nay, ſays he, Peace is Peace; don't tell me of Foundations.

Hold Friend, ſaid I, even Molinos himſelf the Au⯑thor of the Quietiſme, which one Author well calls Sotiſme, and of the Sect of the Quietiſts, and who re⯑ſolved all Felicity and all Religion into the Calm of a retired Soul, yet fixed that Calm upon the Me⯑ditations of an upright Mind, and the Calm of a clear Heart.

[324] I VALUE none of your Sects, ſays my Friend. Gallio was a true Politician and a happy Man, Acts xviii. 17. He cared for none of theſe things; and there was his Happin [...]ſs.

SO a Madman, ſays I, is happy in his Lunacy, and enjoys a thoughtleſs Calm, all the while he is in the greateſt Hurry and Diſorder of his Soul. I [...]ay, there's no Calm in Diſtraction.

WELL, but I am calm, ſays he, and yet I am not diſtracted.

I DON'T know that, ſaid I, I doubt the Fact.

WELL, if I am mad, I don't know it, ſays he, and, as I ſaid before, that's a Happineſs to me.

A HAPPINESS in Miſery, ſaid I; and ſuch is all the Peace that ſuch a Temper can give.

BUT why is it not a ſufficient Felicity, ſays he, to be calm and quiet?

BECAUSE, ſaid I, a Mind inſenſible and un⯑moved in Dangers of the greateſt Importance, is not conſiſtent with the Condition it ſelf, or with Prudence and Reaſon, under that Condition.

HOW is it not conſiſtent? ſays my Friend.

WHY, for Example; ſuppoſe, ſays I, a Man in the upper Rooms of a Houſe, when all the lower Part was on Fire; the Stair-caſe and all Retreats cut off, except throwing himſelf out of the Window, if this Man ſat ſmoking his Pipe, or ſinging a Song, or reading a Play, would not you ſay he was de⯑mented and mad?

BUT how are the Caſes parallel? ſays he.

EXACTLY, ſaid I, they agree in every Part but this; that he is certain the Fire is under him, and you don't know but it may be ſo, and don't think it worth while to enquire: and to make it chime in that Part too, you may ſuppoſe the Man ignorant too, only that People call to him, and tell him the Houſe is on Fire, and he does not ſo much as riſe off his Seat to go to the Stair-head and ſee [325] whether it be ſo or no; tho' he hears them, and tells them he hears them, he bids them not trou⯑ble their Heads about him, 'tis time enough when he feels it; and the next Moment the Floor falls under him, and ſoon after the Roof falls in over him, and ſo he is burnt to death.

WHAT do you infer from this? ſays he.

I ENQUIRE, ſaid I, whether that Indolence and Unconcernedneſs be conſiſtent with common Senſe, and if a wiſe Man would do ſo?

SUPPOSE I grant it? ſaid he.

SO, ſays I, you muſt grant that an Indifference about what ſhall be our Share of that State which is beyond us, Whether the bright or the dark, is in⯑conſiſtent with common Senſe, and that no wiſe Man can act ſo.

HERE my Friend and I ended, for inſtead of being touch'd with it, he talk'd prophanely, and then I always think 'tis time to leave off talking at all; for when Men give up their Reaſon to Atheiſm, and their Senſe of GOD to Blaſphemy, who ſhall labour to waſh that Ethiop?

IT is the ſame in the Caſe before me; here is an Apparition, or ſuppoſe it; the Man that ſees it is utterly unconcerned about it; he cares not one Farthing whether it comes from above or from below, whether it be an Angel or a Devil, a Meſ⯑ſenger from Hell or from Heaven; and ſo this Man is not afraid of it, but boldly goes up to it, and like a Soldier cries, Who are you for? Whence come you? What have you to ſay to me? And it may be gives it for Anſwer, Very well, go about your Buſineſs then, I have nothing to ſay to you. And this ſort of Courage, as he calls it, this unconcerned Bravery, he recommends as the beſt way to deal with theſe Spirits.

BUT ſuppoſe the Devil won't be put off ſo, but ſays, I'll come and Viſit you to-morrow in another [326] Dreſs; I'll try your Courage; and at laſt maſters this ſort of indolent, unconcern'd Eaſineſs, and the Man falls into Terror and Amazement; what has he at the bottom to preſerve him from the Devil then? truly nothing; but he is, like Caſhio Burroughs, all trembling, and cries out, O God! here ſhe comes, and is frighted even to Death. Certainly a cold Indiffe⯑rence about it whether it be an Angel or the Devil, and above all, whether its Meſſage be from Hea⯑ven or Hell, will not hold it out againſt the Ter⯑ror that may come along with it from without, or the reflections of Guilt that may be raiſed by it from within; ſo that ſome better-grounded Courage, a Calm begun from a better Principle, muſt be en⯑quir'd after; or elſe, as I ſaid to my Deiſtical Friend, when you do really ſee the Devil you will not be ſo eaſy as you promiſe your ſelf to be. But this is too ſerious for you, I muſt go on.

I COME next to the Enquiry, What is our buſi⯑neſs, and how ſhould we behave if it is our miſ⯑fortune to have any ſuch Appearance come to us? and ſuppoſe our Minds to be as much compos'd as ordinarily may be expected, not more than our Neighbours; but what, I ſay, ſhall we do, and what is the beſt courſe for us to take?

IN my Opinion, and it is the next Advice I would give, I ſay next to that of fortifying the Mind with religious Conſiderations, of which I have ſpoken, and which ſhould always go firſt, ſpeak to it.

BY ſpeaking to it, my meaning is, Speak tho' it does not ſpeak to you. I have heard of ſome Ap⯑paritions, who 'tis ſaid, had no power to ſpeak 'till they were firſt ſpoken to, and ſome caſes of that kind are publiſh'd by thoſe who I ſuppoſe believ'd them; tho' I ſee no reaſon to do ſo; and particularly of an Apparition that cauſed a poor Man to follow it over Hedge and Ditch all Night for many a Night [327] together, 'till the poor Man was almoſt hurry'd to Death; but could not ſpeak to him, and the frighted Wretch was afraid to ſpeak to it; but at laſt the Man ſpoke, and then the Apparition's Mouth was looſed too: all which I muſt con [...]eſs I ſee no man⯑ner of reaſon to believe, and therefore cannot re⯑commend it to any body elſe to believe.

THERE ſeems no Conſiſtency in the Nature of the thing, no foundation for it in Religion, or any thing in it that we can Reaſon upon for our own Underſtanding; and where neither Nature, Religion or Reaſon allow us any Light in it, upon what Principle can we go to make our Judgment?

BUT leaving it therefore where we find it, I ſay if you ſee an Apparition, that is ſuch an Appa⯑rition as we have been ſpeaking of, not a Phan⯑toſm of your own Brain, not an imaginary Apparition the effect of Fright or Dream, or meer Whimſie, not a Hypocondriack Apparition, the effect of Va⯑pours and Hyſterick Shadows, when the Eye ſees double, and Imagination makes it ſelf a Teleſcope to the Soul, not to ſhow Realities, but to magnify Objects at the remoteſt diſtance, and ſhow things as in being which are not, if you ſee ſuch an Ap⯑parition as this and ſpeak to it, 'tis no wonder you receive no anſwer, and ſo you go away more frighted with a ſilent dumb Devil than you would be with a ſpeaking one; but I ſay, if the Viſion be real, if it be a Shape and Appearance in form as has been deſcrib'd, never ſhun it and fly from it; but ſpeak to it.

IF you would ask me what you ſhould ſay to it, 'tis an unfair Queſtion in ſome Reſpects; 'tis not poſſible for any one to dictate, without the proper Circumſtances be deſcrib'd. The old way you all know: In the name of, &c. as above, is the common road. I will not cry down the Cuſtom, becauſe 'tis the uſual way, and the words are good; but I believe [328] a ſincere mental Ejaculatory Prayer to the Bleſſed Being of Beings for his ſuperior Preſence, would be as effectual as preſenting the Words to the Devil as a kind of Exorciſm; ſuch a Petition ſent up, and then a plain what are you? I think is Compliment enough for the Devil.

AN honeſt, plain, religious Scotſman who I knew, and who thought he ſaw the Devil, tho' he was miſtaken too, yet had this (to me) perfectly new Expreſſion upon the ſurpriſe, the Lord be between me and thee, Satan awa, that is go away, or get thee away: 'twas certainly a good thought, and the poor Man was right, for if the Lord was between him and the Devil there was no great need to fear him or any of his.

BUT to wave particular Inſtructions in the caſe, the Occaſion will certainly adminiſter the Subſtance of what you ſhould ſay; the preſent Direction is only in general, ſpeak to it, never ſink under the Terror or Surprize of the ſight. The Devil is rarely ſeen in his own Shape, and ordinarily for ends of his own, he chuſes to appear in familiar Shapes, perſonating ſome or other that we know, or have known, and repreſenting to our Fancy ſomething that will not terrify us; nay, 'tis the Opinion of the learned Divines, that the Devil would do much leſs harm, and be far leſs dangerous, if he appear'd as a meer Devil, with his Horns, his cloven Hoof, and his Serpent's Tayl and Dragon's Wings, as Fancy figures him out, and as our Painters dreſs him up, than he does in his diſguiſes, and the many Shapes and Figures he aſſumes to himſelf.

So fatal are Maſques and Diſguiſes, Habits and Dreſſes to the World, and ſuch advantage does a falſe Countenance give to Criminal Perf [...]rmances of many kinds, that even the Devil is more dangerous dreſs'd up in Maſquerade, than in his own Cloaths, and in his own Colours; if he would come in all [329] his Formalities and Frightfuls, he would not be capable of half ſo many Couſinings and Cheatings as he now puts upon us: now you have him here and have him there, you have him every where and no where, he is here a Tempter to Wickedneſs, there a Preacher of Righteouſneſs; to-day in one diſguiſe, to-morrow in another; you know him and you don't know him, ſee him and don't ſee him, and how then can any one tell you what to ſay to him, or how to talk with him?

HOWEVER, to come as near to it as we can, the firſt and ordinary Queſtion, natural to the Occaſion, is to know who he is, and whence he comes, what Meſſage he has to deliver, what Bu⯑ſineſs he comes about, and what you have to do with it, why he diſturbs you in particular, and the like; and if you may obtain ſo much Civility from him, to deſire him to trouble you no more; eſpecially if you find the Apparition to be of the worſt kind.

IF it is apparently a good Spirit, I think the Conduct ſhould differ, as the Meſſage he comes about will certainly differ; if it warns you to repent of ſuch and ſuch a ſcandalous Life; or if it bids you reform ſuch and ſuch a criminal Practice, which you know your ſelf guilty of; accept the kind Admo⯑nition, ſubmit to the Reproof, and promiſe Obedience; you may depend, as I have often ſaid, the Devil com [...]s of no ſuch Errand.

IF it tells you ſuch and ſuch Dangers attend you, take the kind hint, and uſe the proper means to avoid th [...]m, thankfully acknowledging the Good⯑neſs of the Hand that ſent the Notice, as well as the Meſſenger that brought it; for depend upon it the Devil, who is a Lover and Author, as well as the Promoter of Miſchief, takes no Pains to prevent it, but would rather have a Hand in bringing it upon you.

[330] AND if ſuch things as theſe are the Subject of the Meſſage, what can you ſay why you ſhould be afraid of the Meſſenger? 'Tis hard to rejoice in the Meſſage, and be ſcar'd at the Meſſenger: the truth is, we are not much accuſtom'd to ſuch ſolemn Admonitions, ſuch good and beneficent Cautions and Aſſiſtances; and this makes the thing ſtrange and aweful, and be receiv'd with Terror and Fright, and perhaps if it was not ſo we ſhould receive them oftner.

WE do not find the old Patriarchs, or after them, the Children of Iſrael, were ſo frighted at the Apparition of Angels and Spirits; it's true in⯑deed when the Angel appear'd to Gideon at the Threſhing-Floor, it is ſaid he was troubled at his Preſence; nevertheleſs the Meſſage was kind and encouraging; yet we find he recover'd himſelf, and took Courage to talk very particularly with it, and to expoſtulate with him about the Circumſtances of his Country, and of the People, and even to ask a double Sign from the Angel to confirm his Faith: and how went he on? he obey'd the Voice of the Viſion, notwithſtanding all his Fears and Doubts, and he bow'd his Soul, and follow'd the Directions given him.

THERE are abundance of Reaſons why we ſhould liſten to ſuch Apparitions as theſe; their diſtinguiſhing Character is, that they always come of ſome Errand or other for the good of Man⯑kind; take it either in general, or in particular: Sometimes 'tis alledg'd they come upon trifling and mean Occaſions, as is the Caſe in many Inſtances given in Story, and in Print. But it may be an⯑ſwered with an Enquiry, Are we ſure theſe are not trifling Stories, and brought in by Perſons, perhaps, but half informed? But what are we to think of the Apparition to King James V. in Scotland, who warn'd him againſt his Flodden-Field Expedition? [331] which if he had liſten'd to he had ſav'd his Life, and the Lives of ten thouſand of his People: for leſs, 'tis ſaid, did not fall in the whole Un⯑dertaking.

AND what ſhall we ſay of the Warning given to the Duke of Buckingham, by the Apparition of his own Father, which if he had liſten'd to, 'tis very likely he had eſcap'd the fatal Knife? for Fel⯑ton, who Aſſaſſinated him, did it, as it ſeems he declar'd at the Gibbet, upon the Account of the Popular Hatred, and that he thought him a pub⯑lick Enemy to his Country.

THESE, and many more which I have men⯑tion'd, or which I have not mention'd, have been the Subject of ſuch Meſſengers, and were far from trifling. If an Appari [...]ion gives any of us Notice of our approaching End, and bids us prepare for it, is not the Meſſage ſolemn, and the Occaſion of it weighty; and is not the Notice worth our Regard? Is the Preparation for Death a trifling thing? and the aſſurance how near the time is can⯑not but be a valuable Notice; I am ſure it ought to be eſteem'd ſo.

A FLOUTING atheiſtick Man of Wit, who muſt be nameleſs, becauſe he will not bear to be nam'd to the Crimes which he is not aſham'd to commit, told me, when diſcourſing this Part of the Subject, that it was no Kindneſs at all, for that Men ought always to be prepar'd for Death; and yet cou'd not deny but that it was a remote Affair which he had not yet given himſelf the trouble to think about.

I CANNOT believe but that if ſome People, who now value themſelves upon their bright Thoughts, and their being above the Power of Chagrine, or of any melancholly Reflections to di⯑ſturb their Joy, were told (nay, tho' it was by a kind Apparition) that they were to die, one in a [332] Fortnight, one in three Days; one at one time, and one at another, and all within a ſhort time, they would have a little alteration upon their Out-ſides. G—M—who laughs evermore, is conti⯑nually titt [...]r [...]ng and prompting others to the loweſt⯑priz'd Part of Mirth, who is all Levity and Froth, and owns that one Sigh never yet reach'd his Heart; ſhould a ſolemn Apparition come to him and his merry Friend, the very Duplicate of him⯑ſelf, and ſay, Repent G—, and prepare for Death, for you have but three Months to live, and you—, pointing to his Fellow-mimick, but five Days; I ſay, ſhould ſuch a Meſſage be ſeriouſly de⯑livered him in ſuch an aweful Manner, as many Relations tell us have been done to others, I can⯑not have ſo little Charity for the Beau, but to think he would change Colour a little, and begin to conſider, and eſpecially if at the five Days end he had News that his other Self, the Image of his extraordinary Soul, the very Soſio to himſelf, in Life, tho' not in Figure, was found dead in his Bed to a tittle of the time.

I SAY I cannot doubt but that he would learn to Sigh a little; and my Charity is the more exten⯑ſive in Mr. M—'s Caſe, becauſe, take him a little off of his ordinary Titillations, and unhinge him from the light Article which has gain'd ſo entirely upon him as to Eclipſe him, the Man has ye [...] ſome Brains, and they might perhaps aſſiſt a little upon ſuch an Occaſion, to condenſe the Va⯑pour, and bring the ſolid Part uppermoſt, which at preſent has not happen'd to him.

AND not to ſingle out a gay Humour or two from the reſt, how many among our Box and Pit Heroes, were they told they were under the Sen⯑tence of Death, and only Repriev'd for ſo many, and ſo many Days: I ſay, how many of them would ſhine at the next Opera? how would their Countenance [...] [333] change, and their Knees knock one a⯑gainſt another? How would they ſit down in Tears and Repentance, or ſink into the Death foretold, even by the meer Horror of its approach? for there is the moſt Dread where there is the leaſt Re⯑pentance: Nor let any one cavil at the Expreſſion, a Sentence and a Reprieve, let them take it as they will; the thing is no leſs, and can be under⯑ſtood no otherwiſe of us all: We are all under the Sentence, as directly as a Criminal that hears it read at the Bar, with only this ſignificant Difference, namely, That we are Repriev'd ſine die, the Cri⯑minal is not, and the Conſequence of this may be the worſe; for we promiſe ourſelves it ſhall be lon⯑ger than we have reaſon to believe it is, and ſo are often Executed in Surprize, our Preparations being delay'd by Preſumption; whereas the Offen⯑der knows he muſt die at the Expiration of his Reprieve, and perhaps is aſſur'd that 'tis in vain to expect any farther delay.

NOW a kind Meſſenger comes, as the Prophet did to Hezekiah, and ſays, Prepare yourſelf, for you ſhall die, and not live; is this Meſſage to be ſlight⯑ed and diſregarded? If it is ſo treated 'tis at your Peril, you take that Part upon yourſelf; and if you find this the Caſe, you will hardly call the Meſ⯑ſage trifling, much leſs ſay ſuch Apparitions ge⯑nerally come upon trifling Occaſions.

HISTORY records a great many foreboding Signs, and ſome by Apparition, foretelling the De⯑ſtruction of Jeruſalem, and of the Temple; not that any of thoſe Signs could be ſuppos'd to give Warn⯑ing of it, ſo as that it might be prevented; for our Saviour had expreſly ſaid it ſhould be de⯑ſtroy'd, Their Houſe ſhould be left unto them deſolate, Matt. xxiii. 38. Not one Stone left upon another which ſhall not be thrown down, Matt. xxiv. 2. But thoſe Signs and Apparitions were apparent Warnings [334] to the People, at leaſt to ſuch of them as had the Wiſdom to take Notice of them, to make their Eſcape out of the City before the Romans inveſted it, and before it was too late; particularly the opening the great brazen Doors of the Temple, which Joſephus ſays twenty Man could ſcarce turn to open or ſhut, and which opening of themſelves, an Apparition was ſeen in the Houſe of GOD, and a Voice heard, ſaying, Let us Depart hence.

NO queſtion, but as the Warning or Alarm was given to direct many to their Eſcape, ſo many had that Wiſdom given them as to make their Eſcape; and tho' the Deſolation was horrible, and ſuch as perhaps was never equall'd, except in the ſame Place, and the ſame Country, by the Aſſyrians, when the firſt Temple was burnt; yet, as they ſay 'tis a hard Battle where none eſcape, ſo Joſephus himſelf owns, that many Thouſands, and others ſay many hundreds of thouſands fled in time, and made their Eſcape, flying, as the Text ſays, from the Wrath to come. Nor can I doubt but that many had warnings in Dreams, that is, as I ſay, by Appa⯑ritions in Dream, by Viſions, and ſome by open Ap⯑paritions, that the City would be deſtroyed.

RABBI JUDAH ſays, the Patriarchs ap⯑peared to many, and gave them Notice, that the Romans would come and beſiege their City, and that the Temple ſhould be deſtroyed; but I doubt much of the Story, and that On a double Account. 1. Whether ever any of the Patriarchs did ſo appear and forewarn them; for had they done ſo, they would certainly have told them that the Meſſiah was come, and that therefore the ſecond Temple was to be deſtroy'd, for that all the Propheſies were fulfill'd. But, 2. I doubt alſo that Rabbi Judah, if ſuch an Author there was, never ſaid ſo, and that 'tis only a Tradition.

[335] IT is certain there were the like Omens, and I doubt not Apparitions too, juſt before the taking and ſacking of Rome by the Barbarians, the Van⯑dals and Goths; and we might deſcend to modern Hiſtory for many of the like: ſo that theſe Appari⯑tions do not always come upon trifling Occaſions, at leaſt they are not trifling to thoſe whom they re⯑gard in particular, and therefore 'tis not an Objection for a particular Perſon to make.

I HAVE troubled you with none of thoſe Appa⯑ritions, which have come to help you to find out Mo⯑ney, to reveal little love Secrets and Intrigues, and upon other ſuch Caſes; nor do I recommend it to you to believe thoſe Trifles; they are moſt certainly the Apparitions of Fancy, as I ſhall obſerve at large in its Place; ſuch People make a meer Harlequin of the Devil, a common Jack-Pudding, to make Game with; 'tis moſt certain, the Spirits I ſpeak of, know how to make themſelves be better re⯑garded, know how to make themſelves conſidera⯑ble, can come clothed in Terror if they pleaſe, and have done ſo where occaſion has call'd for it; either to enforce their Meſſage, or alarm ſuch Per⯑ſons who ſet up for a hardened Face beyond the Power of inviſible Terrors.

BUT as their Meſſage is generally peaceable, and the Intent of it kind and good, ſo they chuſe to come in a manner, as little attended with the frightful Part as they can.

BUT not to dwell on this Part, or enquire at all what the Meſſage is they come about, whe⯑ther trifling or otherwiſe, the preſent Enquiry is, what is our Part, what is to be done when they do appear: For 'till we ſee them, we know nothing of their Buſineſs; nor perhaps when we ſee them, un⯑leſs we ſpeak to them; and we have many Stories of Apparitions, that only ſhow themſelves, and perhaps it may be never ſpeak at all.

[336] THIS our People call Walking, and indeed it is not improperly call'd ſo, becauſe, as to us, we know no more of their Buſineſs; but it no more follows that they have no other Buſineſs here becauſe we don't know it, than that it is likely they ſhould come hither, and walk to and fro, and have nothing to do.

AS for thoſe non-appearing Apparitions, if I may call them ſo, (for not to appear, and not to let us know what they appear for, ſeems to be much the ſame;) I mean thoſe not-ſpeaking Apparitions, we can indeed give no Account of them, becauſe we cannot converſe with them: It ſeems to me they are not of the Heavenly or Angelick Kind, becauſe they would certainly have ſome more apparent Buſineſs, and perhaps not be backward to ſpeak of it, at leaſt they would not ſeem to be aſhamed of their Errand.

NOR is it my Opinion, that thoſe Apparitions who come of good Errands can be ſuppoſed to be unable to ſpeak, if it was neceſſary to their Buſi⯑neſs to uſe Speech; much leſs that they ſhould re⯑ceive their Commiſſion or their Ability to ſpeak from our firſt ſpeaking to them: There is no Co⯑herence in it: But certainly if the Spirits that ap⯑pear upon good Deſigns, and come upon good Er⯑rands, do not ſpeak to us; they are not ſent to us; their Buſineſs is with ſomebody elſe, which we know nothing of, tho' we may ſee the Spectre; for it may be that a Man may ſee an Apparition that has nothing to do with him, or to ſay to him.

OR perhaps the Spectre may execute its Com⯑miſſion effectually, without ſpeaking. A Ghoſt was ſaid to haunt a certain Houſe in the Country not far from Rygate in Surrey; it was met in the Gar⯑den by one of the Family, who had long valued himſelf upon believing, and ſaying alſo, that there were no ſuch things as Apparitions, and that he [337] would be ſure of it when-ever he met ſuch a thing, he would know what it was made of before he parted with it.

GOING out of the Houſe in the Evening when it was almoſt dark, but not quite, he meets the Apparition in the Garden; the Apparition ſhun'd him, and would not have been ſeen, or made as if it would not have been ſeen. H A! ſays he boldly, are you there! What are you? The Apparition ſtill makes from him, and he ſpeaks again, Who are you? What is your Name? ſays he, in a kind of jeſting manner. My Buſineſs is not with you, ſays the Apparition. But I have ſome Buſineſs with you, ſays he, I muſt know what you are, and I will know what you are; and with that, ſays my Story, (tho' by the way I muſt tell you, I don't know how true 'tis) I ſay, with that the bold Fellow offers to go up to it and lay Hands upon it; at which it advanced to him and over-run him, bore him down, and threw him againſt the Garden Wall, which was at leaſt five or ſix Yards from him, with ſuch Violence, that he was taken up for dead; and I ſuppoſe he never ventur'd to lay Hands upon a Spirit or Apparition again.

NOW be this Story true or not, I mention it to warn raſh Heads, who pretending not to fear the Devil, are for uſing the ordinary Violences with him, which affect one Man from another, or with an Apparition, in which they may be ſure to [...]e⯑ceive ſome Miſchief. I knew One fired a Gun at an Apparition, and the Gun burſt in a hundred Pieces in his Hand, (that is in a great many Pieces.) Ano⯑ther ſtruck at an Apparition with a Sword, and broke his Sword in Pieces, and wounded his Hand gri [...] ⯑vouſly. It is moſt certain that an Apparition or a Spirit is not to be cut with a Sword, or ſhot with a Gun; as there is no Subſtance, there can be no Wound made; and 'tis next to Madneſs for any one to go that way to work, be it Angel or be it Devil.

[338] BUT to carry this farther: In particular, an Ap⯑parition may ſhew itſelf, and peform its Miſſion in a full and compleat manner, and yet not ſpeak. I have a Story by me of a Gentleman who carried on a Secret and Criminal Converſation with a cer⯑tain Lady, and having made an Aſſignation to meet the Lady, was met at the Place by an Apparition of his own Mother; ſhe ſaid nothing, ſhe did not offer to ſpeak, nor did he at firſt know it to be an Apparition. The Gentleman walks about in the Field near a Houſe where he had appointed the Lady to meet; the Apparition walk'd about likewiſe, and he takes it to be a Woman in ordi⯑nary, as any Woman might be ſeen to walk up and down in the ſame Field or Walk.

BY and by the Woman or Lady appointed comes, he meets her, and goes forward to ſalute her; the Apparition ſhows itſelf juſt behind the Lady, and looks him full in the Face; he ſtarts back from the Lady, and inſtead of kiſſing her, cries out, and asks her, Who's that behind her; ſhe turns about, but ſees nobody, nor he neither, which frights them both.

HE fancies it to be an imaginary Vapour, ha⯑ving no Faith at all in Apparitions, and offers to go up to the Lady again; and behold, he ſees the Apparition juſt behind her again, the Face ſtand⯑ing juſt ſo as to look over the Lady's Shoulder, and ſtare juſt upon him; he cries out again, and knows it to be his Mother, who it ſeems was dead, and in crying out again, he adds, My Mother! at which it vaniſhes.

HAD this Apparition any occaſion to ſpeak? Was it not Rebuke enough to look him in the Face? Even in common Affairs, a Look from the Eye of one who has Authority to reprove, is ſome⯑times more effectual than the Reproof, if it was given in Words at length.

[339] SUPPOSE this Spectre to regard him not with a threatning Aſpect, but with a Countenance of Pity, of a Maternal Reprehenſion, a Reproof urg⯑ing Shame and Reproach, like that of Solomon, What, my Son! what, the Son of my Vows! my Son be ſeen embracing a Strumpet! the Man went away, ſays my Story, fill'd with Confuſion; as no queſtion indeed but he would.

HERE was no need of Speech; the Look was a Laſh, and a Reproof ſufficient; the Man would hardly meet there any more, if he would meet the ſame Lady any more, and 'tis very likely he never did.

'TIS very unhappy in the Caſe before me, that it is impoſſible to atteſt the Truth of all the Sto⯑ries which are handed about upon ſuch a Subject as this is; and therefore tho' I might make Flou⯑riſhes of the Truth of the Particulars in all Caſes, as others do; I chuſe rather to inſiſt upon the Moral of every Story, whatever the Fact may be, and to inforce the Influence, ſuppoſing the Hiſtory to be real, or whether it be really ſo or not, which is not much material.

ALL theſe Caſes, however, return me back to the Advice above, namely, always if you ſee an Apparition, ſpeak to it, ſpeak to it early, and anſwer any Queſtions it asks, but be ſure to ask it no Que⯑ſtions except ſuch as are reaſonable, and may be ſuppoſed to be within the Reach of its imm [...]diate Capacity to anſwer; no Queſtions tending to re⯑veal the Myſteries of a future State. To ask ſuch Queſtions as are a plain diving into the Secrets of Heaven, which it is already declared ſhall not be laid open, is asking the good Spirit, if it be ſuch, to of⯑fend on his Part, and is really criminal on your Part; as, to ask what Condition the Perſon is in, meaning the Perſon whoſe Shape the Apparition takes up; How he gets Leave to appear here; why he comes [340] in this or that Manner; what kind of Place Hea⯑ven is, and ſuch like; as the Biſhop of Down and Connor ordered James Haddock to ask.

BUT ſuit your Queſtions to what the Spectre ſhall ſay, or as the manner of its Appearance ſhall direct you; as particularly, if it requires you to do any thing, to ſpeak to any Perſon, or to deliver any Admonition to a third Perſon, as in the caſe of the Ap⯑parition about the Duke of Buckingham, and as in the Caſe of Dr. Scot and others; you may juſtly ask Tokens by which you may make your ſelf be be⯑lieved; alſo ſuch Queſtions as relate to yourſelf, and to the Nature of the thing which the Apparition comes about.

BUT Queſtions relating to things beyond Time, curious Enquiries into Futurity and Eternity, are upon many Accounts to be avoided; and for ſome Reaſons which I care not to mention in particular; becauſe I would not form frightful Ideas in the Minds of thoſe that read. I have ſome Stories by me which give an Account that upon ſuch needleſs Inquiries the Apparition has turn'd itſelf into ter⯑rifying Appearances, intimating Reſentment; not only a Reſentment on its own Account, but as if it was an Offence and a high Provocation to the ſu⯑preme Power to offer to ſearch into what Heaven has conceal'd: To me, indeed, it ſeems it would be ſo, and therefore 'tis certainly beſt to refrain thoſe In⯑quiries.

In a word, the Apparition is, as I may ſay, Ag⯑greſſor; it appears; you are paſſive; be ſo ſtill, other⯑wiſe you make your ſelf the Apparition, and put the Apparition in your Place: ask it wherefore it appears to you, whether for Good or Evil; if for Evil, call upon God for Protection; if it comes for Good, declare your ſelf ready to receive its Meſſage, and to obſerve every juſt Direction, to obey every righteous Command, and attend to what it ſhall ſay.

[341] THIS is to act fearleſs, and yet cautious; bold, and yet wiſely; reſolv'd, and yet humble; and in this Temper of Mind, I think no Man need to be a⯑fraid of an Apparition.

YOU may reſolve all ſuch things into this; Whe⯑ther they are good Spirits or bad, Ang [...]lick Ap⯑pearances or Diabolick, they are under ſuperior Li⯑mitations [...] the Devil we know is chain'd, he can go no farther than the length of his Tether; he has not a Hand to act, or a Foot to walk, or a Mouth to ſpeak, but as he is permitted. The Caſe of his Commiſſion to Job is explicit; ſuch and ſuch things he might do, ſuch he might not; even the Lives of Job's Children, and Cattle, and Servants were given him; and, like a Devil as he was, he went to the full Extent of his Commiſſion; he ſpar'd not one of them that he could deſtroy, but he was forbid to touch the Life of Job, and he did not, he durſt not, he could not kill him.

IF then we are ſure the Devil is reſtrained from hurting us, any otherwiſe than he is directed and limited, we may be ſure that good Spirits are; for their Nature, their Buſineſs, their Deſires are all fix'd in a general Beneficence to Mankind; their Powers and Employments, as far as they are con⯑cerned among us, and in things upon this Surface, are included in the heavenly Acclamation when the Angels ſung to the Shepherds, On Earth Peace, Good-will towards Men, Luk [...]. ii. 14.

IF at any time they are Meſſengers of Judgment, Executors of the divine Vengeance, it is likewiſe by ſpecial, nay, by extraordinary Commiſſion; and then they are indeed Flames of Fire, and punctual⯑ly do what they are commanded, and no more.

BUT even then, that we may be eaſie in the matter of Apparition, they do not diſguiſe them⯑ſelves or conceal their Commiſſion: As Manoah's Wife ſaid to him when the Angel appeared to her, [342] if the LORD were pleaſed to kill us, he would not have received a Burnt-offering, and a Meat-offering at our Hands, neither would HE have ſhewed us all theſe things, Judges xiii. 23. So here, the Apparition of a good Spirit would not betray us, would not act by Stratagem with us, would not appear in Peace when he means War; come like a Friend, when he was ſent for an Enemy; give good Council, when he meant Death and Deſtruction: But if it appears in Peace, its Deſign and its Meſſage is certainly Peace.

UPON the whole, you have no way any Oc⯑caſion to be diſturbed at an Appearance, but to regard the Power ſending, not the Agent ſent; looking beyond the Apparition itſelf, and with a reſolved Mind, and a ſteddy, calm Courage, ſpeak to it, and demand its Buſineſs; I do not mean by De⯑mand, a Demand of Inſult and Arrogance, but an humble, yet reſolved Enquiry, Why, and on what Occaſion it comes to you.

I HAVE done counſelling. If this Part is too grave for you, as I ſaid before, it is not very tedious, you may make it a Parentheſis, and the Work will read without it; for why ſhould I deſire you to do any good thing againſt your Will?

IF you don't think there is any thing in it all, if it is not worth your Notice, go on without it; and when you ſee any thing, be not ſurpriz'd and confus'd, cover'd with Horrour and Fright; as is uſu⯑ally the Caſe of thoſe who laugh loudeſt at ſuch things before they come. W—G—, Eſq; famous for that particular Virtue called Impudence, and for that more than ordinary Perfection of it, which ſome People call Blaſphemy; how m [...]rry did he uſe to make himſelf about the ordinary Notions of ſeeing Apparitions, and hearing People talk of Spirits and the Devil!

[343] HOW witty would he be upon the poor Ladies, when they ſeemed a little diſordered at frightful Stories of People's walking, and of the Devil's ap⯑pearing in horrible Shapes, and ſuch like things, as the old Women perhaps had weakly enough fill'd their Heads with! Nothing pleaſed the young Hero like making a Jeſt of thoſe things; and the Truth was, that many of them deſerved it: but the Jeſt of all Jeſts was, to ſee the Eſquire come home frighted out of more Wits than any one ever thought him Maſter of, when riding home in the dark one Night, he met, that is, his Fancy met, the Devil in ſome monſtrous Shape or other; but ſuch as his Terrors could not leave him room to deſcribe, only by two great Saucer Eyes glaring in the Dark, and by puffing and blowing moſt frightfully. (It ſeems the Devil had been upon ſome haſty Buſineſs, and was out of Breath.)

IN this Terror he is become ſuch a Convert to the Doctrine of the Reality of Apparitions, that he dares not be a Moment in the dark, dares not lye alone, or go up Stairs by himſelf: When upon full Examination, the Devil he met was only a hunted Bullock that ſome Butchers had made half mad, and had purſued 'till they loſt him in the Night, and he paſſed the Eſquire in the dark, and was found the next Morning half dead, near the Place where his Worſhip was ſcared with him. Yet the Fright has got ſuch Poſſeſſion of his Soul, that all the laugh⯑ing at him, and all the Fools and Childrens mocking him in the very Streets cannot bea [...] that Fit of trembling out of his Joints, nor fortify his Soul againſt the Viſion but of a Cat, if it be in the dark.

SO eminently ſilly does that needleſs Paſſion Fear bring us to be, when it has once gotten Poſſeſſion of the Mind; How fooliſh, how inconſiſtent, are the Operations of it! Hence really the Saying, to be [344] frighted out of our Wits, or Such a one is frighted out of his Wits, is not ſo out of the way as ſome may imagine; and the Eſquire mention'd juſt now is as effectually ſo frighted out of his Wits, even in the letter of it, as is poſſible; for nothing ever acted more like a Fool than he does now; except it was himſelf when he made a Jeſt of the Reality of that very thing, of which now he is ſo diſorder'd with the Shadow.

CHAP. XIV. Of Sham Apparitions, and Apparitions which have been the Effect either of Fraud or Fear.

BY ſham Apparitions I am to be underſtood ſuch as have been put upon People by the Fraud and Craft of ſubtle Knaves, in order to bring about their wicked Deſigns, or ſuch as Fear and weak Apprehenſion have preſented to, and impoſed upon the Imagination. In ſhort,

FIRST, Apparitions with which People are cheated by others.

SECONDLY, Apparitions with which they cheat themſelves.

FIRST, Apparitions form'd by the Knavery of others, to cheat, abuſe and impoſe upon the Cre⯑dulity of the People. Such was the Fable of Jupiter deſcending in a Golden Shower, and falling into the Lap of Danaae, whom he had a mind to Debauch. And indeed, whoſe Virtue could we think would in thoſe Days, (not to ſay a Word of our more modeſt and ſanctified Ladies) reſiſt a ſhower of Gold, falling into their Lap? with a God in the middle of it too; But that by the way.

[345] THE like Apparition that Immortal Raviſher of Virgins, call'd Jupiter, made, when he ſtole the Lady Europa in the ſhape of a Milk-white Bull, invi⯑ting the Lady to get up upon his Back, and im⯑mediately jumps into the Sea with her, and ſwims over the Helleſpont; from whence the other ſide where ſhe landed is call'd Europe to this Day. In⯑deed when Ladies come to ride upon Bulls, what can they expect? Such was the horrid Cheat put upon that poor virtuous, but bigotted Roman Lady, perſuading her that the God—deſir'd to en⯑joy her, which ſhe in blind Devotion ſubmitted to with Raptures of divine Joy and Elevation; cauſed her Bed to be laid in the Sacriſtie of the Temple, deck'd it with Flowers and Perfumes, and cauſed the debauch'd Prieſt to be dreſs'd up with Robes of State, and offering rich Odours all the Night; when at length, inſtead of the God, inſtead of the Apparition which ſhe expected, ſhe was betray'd, and was violated by the Traytor that lay in wait for her in the Temple. Such again was the Appari⯑tion of Apollo which Lucian ſpeaks of, which was ſeen ſu [...]pended in the Air, and carry'd or mov'd a⯑bout from place to place in the Temple of Apollo at Hierapolis. Lucian de Dea Syra.

SUCH was the ſordid Impoſture of Mahomet, who having brought up a tame Pidgeon to come to his Ear, where he fed her always with Peaſe or Tares, ſo that ſhe conſtantly came thither at his Call; perſuaded his Followers that it was an Appa⯑rition of the Angel Gabriel ſent from GOD to whiſper divine Oracles into his Soul; and that he received the heavenly Inſpirations by that means. Such was the Voice which pronounc'd him to be the Prophet of the moſt high GOD, which Voice ſounding in the Air, no Perſon appearing to ſpeak, was concluded to be the Voice of an Angel, ap⯑pearing to him, whereas it was ſpoken by his own [346] Direction by a poor Fellow who he had placed on purpoſe at the bottom of a Well; and when he found the Impoſture take with the People, he ſent a Detachment of his Followers to fill up the Well with Stones, pretending it was that it ſhould no more be prophan'd by any Man or Cattle drinking of its holy Waters, from whence the Voice of an Angel had been heard; but really to bury the poor Wretch at the bottom of it, that he might not betray the Secret, and diſcover the contriv'd Delu⯑ſion.

SUCH likewiſe was the Story of the Aſs that carry'd him up into Paradiſe, and that not only to one, but through ſeven or eight Paradiſes or Hea⯑vens, where he ſaw two and thirty thouſand Viſi⯑ons: And ſuch were all the Apparitions which that ridiculous Impoſtor feigned to ſee upon every Oc⯑caſion, 'till his blinded Followers believed him to be an Apparition himſelf.

SUCH was the Image of St. George, rightly call'd Miraculous, which the Greeks to this Day play horrible Pranks with at the Iſle of Skyros in the Archipelague, and which they put upon the People as an Apparition indeed; exerciſing particular Seve⯑rities upon People in ſeveral Caſes: But as it is ma⯑nag'd by the Prieſts, ſo 'tis eſpecially very furious upon all thoſe that neglect to fulfil the Vows made to the ſaid Saint George, or in general to all thoſe that do not pay their Debts to the Clergy.

MONSIEUR Tournefort in his Voyage into the Levant gives a diverting Account of the Conduct of this Devil of Skyros; how they worry the Ig⯑norant People to Death with it, and impoſe upon them by it in the groſſeſt and abſurdeſt manner poſſible. As there are not greater Impoſtors in the World than the Greeks, and eſpecially the Greek Clergy; ſo there are not a more ignorant, eaſily⯑impos'd-upon People in the World than the Greek [347] Layety; and eſpecially thoſe whom the Greek Clergy have to do with: Hence it is, that the moſt abſurd Reaſonings go down with them; and indeed they may be truly ſaid to be Believers in the literal ſenſe, for they take all things by the lump, and without reaſoning at all upon them: if not, it would be im⯑poſſible to poſſeſs them, as the Prieſts do, with a Be⯑lie [...] that the Image of St. George moves the Prieſt, not the Prieſt the Image, tho' he carries it about upon his Shoulders.

YET this is the fact: The Image of St. George is no more than a Picture, and that of very courſe Painting repreſenting St. George upon a log of Wood; 'tis plac'd over the great Altar of the Ca⯑thedral at Skyros, which is dedicated to that Saint: when the Church is full of People, the Image is ſeen to move of it ſelf. This they call, and were the fact true, it might well be call'd, the Apparition of St. George; but be the Fact true or not, 'tis be⯑liev'd to be ſo, and that's as well to all the intents and purpoſes of an Apparition, as if the Image were invigorated.

BUT to ſpeak it in their own words, the Image is ſeen to move of it ſelf, and to ſhow it ſelf in Apparition to all the People; for notwithſtanding its Bulk and Weight, it will tranſport it ſelf through the Air into the midſt of the Aſſembly; there it hovers about, as it were viewing every Face and ex⯑amining every Heart; if it finds any one that has fail'd to perform any Vow to him (the Saint,) the Image immediately fixes it ſelf on the Shoulders of the Delinquent, ſingles him out, and not only he is expos'd to the whole Aſſembly, but the Image plies him with furious and continued Buffettings, 'till he becomes penitent, and promiſes again in the Face of the Aſſembly to pay what he owes to the Church.

[348] BUT this is not all: but when the Aſſembly is thus purg'd by the Juſtice of this Ghoſt in an I⯑mage, it is then taken up and plac'd upon the Shoulders of a blind Monk, who carries it out of the Church into the Town; the Monk being blind and not knowing whither he goes, is guided by the occult impreſſion of the Image, who guides him as a Rider guides a blind Horſe; and thus he carries him directly to the Houſe of ſuch as are Delinquent in the caſe of Debt to the Altar of St. George.

NOR is it enough that the Debtor ſeeing the Apparition or Image coming to him, flies from it, and eſcapes from Houſe to Houſe; for the Image cauſes the Monk to follow him by the Foot, as a Hound does a Hare; ſo that, in a word, there's no eſcaping St. George, no flying from him, the Monk is ſteddy in his purſuit, aſcends, deſcends, paſſes, repaſſes, enters all places, 'till the poor Wretch, who may be truly ſaid to be hunted down, or Hounded down as they expreſs it in the North, is oblig'd to pay the utmoſt Farthing.

THIS Story fully confirm'd my thoughts in a Remark which I made from the beginning of this Work, that really Church Apparitions are the moſt frightful, moſt teizing, and terrible in their way, of all the real Devils that walk about in the World.

BUT what need we wander thus among the Ancients, and hunt among the Greek Schiſmaticks for artificial Apparitions, and for Eccleſiaſtic Delu⯑ſions of this kind? The Roman Church, that true Catholick Eſtabliſhment, built upon the ſolid Rock of St. Peter himſelf, how full is it of glorious Frauds of this kind? and how has the whole Scheme of Papal Tyranny been ſupported among the People in this very manner, ever ſince the great defection of the Roman Hierarchy, from its true Primitive Pu⯑rity, and original holy Inſtitution?

[349] NOT that I purpoſe to make this Work a Col⯑lection of Church Apparitions, whether Popiſh or Proteſtant; any more than I ſhall enter upon a re⯑citing the Univerſalia of State Apparitions; 'tis well for this Age, both in Church and State, that my Doctrine of the Reſt of Souls is eſtabliſh'd; for certainly, if the Souls of the Departed could be di⯑ſturb'd either in Heaven or Hell, by the mad things, or the ſimple things, the good things, or the wicked things tranſacted by their Poſterity in theſe Days, there muſt be as great an Uneaſineſs in thoſe eternal Manſions on account of the preſent Age, as ever there was ſince Hiſtory gives us any Account of things: Never did any Generation make ſuch Fools of their Fathers, and ſuch wiſe Men of themſelves, and both ſo unaccountable; ſure it muſt be, that the Dead cannot come to the Quick, and that they know nothing of us, or the whole World would be one Apparition, and we ſhould, as Sir W—B—ſaid above, have all come up again that was under Ground, the dead World would be too many for the living World, and we ſhould meet ten Apparitions in every Street for one living Creature.

BUT to come to the Caſe in hand, the firſt Chriſtian Apparition I meet with deſerves our par⯑ticular Remark; firſt indeed, becauſe of the Impor⯑tance of the Occaſion, namely, for the Confirma⯑tion of the Faith of all true Catholicks in that great diſputed, yet unſettled Point, viz. Whether ever St. PETER was at ROME or no? a Point ſo eſſen⯑tial, and which the Hereticks take ſo much Pains to make doubtful, that if we Catholicks do not eſtabliſh it paſt all the Cavils of our Enemies, we do nothing; and for this we bring the miraculous Apparition of Jeſus Chriſt to St. Peter juſt without the City, and which carried Peter back again into the City; ſo that as he came out of Rom [...], and return'd [350] to Rome, Chriſt himſelf being Witneſs to it, ſure it can never be diſputed any more.

THIS being of ſo great Importance to the Ca⯑tholick Church, it is meet I ſhould bring you good Authority for the Relation; and therefore thinking my ſelf not competent, not a ſufficient Evidence, being perhaps ſuſpected of Hereſy, I ſhall give it you out of the Labours of an ancient Father of the Roman Church, and you ſhall have the Story from his own Mouth, and in his own Words, as follows: It is the famous Doctor Smith, a Popiſh Preacher in Queen Mary's Days, who boaſted that he had overcome both Biſhop Ridley, and Biſhop Latimer, in a Diſpute againſt them about St. Peter's having been at Rome. Take a piece of the Reverend Doctor's Sermon.

THE Doctor's Buſineſs was to take upon him to run down the poor oppreſs'd Confeſſors, Cranmer, Ridley and Latimer, and make them odious to the People; and being to preach a Sermon upon this Subject at Whitti [...]gton College in London, (the ſame, or near it, that is now call'd St. Martin Vintry) He begins thus,

HERE'S an Apparition of good Fame, and of extraordinary Authority; and if any Objection can lye againſt it, 'tis only whether it be true or not; but I am not to anſwer for that, 'tis certainly true, that the Learned Doctor preach'd this excel⯑lent Sermon, and that's enough for me.

[352] BUT having thus given you an Apparition of ſuch great Authority, namely of Jeſus Chriſt him⯑ſelf, I ſhall quote you a few others of a more mo⯑dern kind to confirm you in this Principle, namely, that Apparitions did not ceaſe in the Church: Tho' Miracles are ſaid to ceaſe, and Propheſies ceaſe, tho' Oracles are dumb, and the Dead do not return; yet that Apparition is not wanting, and the Artifices of the Fathers remain; namely, that they can ſhow you wonders in Viſion every Day for the Confir⯑mation of that great Catholick Verity.

I MIGHT deſcend here to the famous Appariti⯑on of Loudon, commonly call'd the Devil of Lou⯑don; and the yet more famous Apparition of Jetzer at Bern in Switzerland. Theſe are indeed Orthodox Deluſions, and both carried on with the utmoſt Aſſurance, I had almoſt ſaid Villany, by the Prieſts: But I am not come ſo far down yet on our way to Modern Roguery.

ONE of our Popes I think inſiſted, that he had had an Apparition of the Devil to him; whereas St. Francis, and St. Ignatius each in their turn put the Bite of Apparition upon the World, in ſo many particular caſes, that if they had not, as we may ſay, left it off in time, as the World took them for mad Men and Fools, they would have taken them for what they really were, viz. Knaves and Cheats, and have uſed them accordingly; and indeed it was once within an Ace with St. Francis of his being whipt through the Streets at Naples for an Impoſtor; and he had but one way to get off, which was to add ſome things to his Conduct ſo extremely ſilly and ridiculous, that he was taken for an Idiot, and let run looſe in the Streets with a crowd of Boys at his Heels following and ſhouting at him, and throwing Dirt and rotten Eggs upon him. This he turn'd into a ſpecies of Martyrdom, valued himſelf upon it, and would not ſuffer the Filth to [353] be ſ [...]raped off from him; becauſe it was the Orna⯑ment and Crown of his Sufferings for preaching the Goſpel.

IT was doubtful, for ſome time, whether this holy Enthuſiaſt had more Apparitions of the Bleſ⯑ſed Virgin, or of the Devil, following him: It is true, ſome of our Hereticks affirm'd he had no Apparitions at all, either of the Virgin or of the Devil; but that it was all a deviliſh Cheat, which he had the Face to put upon the World. But this, they tell us, is too uncharitable; becauſe 'tis ſuppoſing the Wretch himſelf, (who, it is allow'd, was a very weak and ſilly, tho' an impudent Fellow) was able to Impoſe upon all the World at that time, who Univerſally believ'd that he had ſeen ſome Apparitions which elevated his Mind to that degree of Euthuſiaſm which he appear'd acted by.

BUT then, if we muſt allow he was viſited with Apparitions, it muſt be of the Devil, not the Bleſ⯑ſed Virgin; becauſe we have no Scripture Autho⯑rity to ſupport the Notion that ſhe ever did, or can appear at all, either to him or any body elſe [...] and that all the pretended Apparitions of the Vir⯑gin Mary, of what kind ſoever, which the Le⯑gends are full of, are the meer Impoſtures of the Prieſts, as really and openly as if they had been ſeen to be perform'd: Such was her ſpeaking to St. Bernard, when he came up the Nave of the great Church at Millan, at four ſteps, twen [...]y Yards at a ſtep; at the firſt ſtep he ſaid O Faelix! at the ſecond ſtep, O Pia! at the third ſtep, O Santa! and at the fourth ſtep, Maria! to which the Image anſwer'd, Salve Bernardi. The Marks of the four ſteps, Dr. Burnet, in his Letters, tells us are to be ſeen in the Church ſtill, cover'd with little Plates of Braſs, having the Words ſeverally cut upon them: and yet in ſpite of the Relique we cannot [354] for our Lives believe that the ſilent Image ſpoke to him, any more than that he ſtept twenty Yards at a ſtride.

UPON the whole, we are at a Point with St. Francis, that if any Apparition did haunt him, it was that of the Devil; and they tell us this was ſo frequent, that at laſt he pray'd to the Virgin, that the Devil might not be allow'd to appear to him but upon extraordinary Occaſions; and that whenever he did, he ſhould have the better of the Devil, if he contended with him: after which the Devil never appear'd to him at all in his own Shape, as it ſeems he uſed to do, but always un⯑der ſome Diſguiſe, or in other Perſons Shapes, tempting him in thoſe Apparitions, as he found Occaſion; but that he was always too hard for him, and drove him away. Who had the Victory at laſt, Hiſtory is ſilent: but ſome are apt to doubt that the Devil had the better of him then, for that we do not read much of his Triumph over the Devil, in Articulo Mortis.

ST. IGNATIUS, the Patron of the Jeſuits, pretended to make St. Francis, who was before him, his Patron, and to Mimick him in all his moſt ridiculous Extravagancies; and theſe of Ap⯑paritions amongſt the reſt: and his Life indeed is full of Hiſtories of Apparitions, either of one Saint or other, or of the Devil, or of the Virgin, upon all Occaſions, and ſome of them the moſt trifling and frivolous in the World.

ST. FRANCIS being very melancholly, ear⯑neſtly deſir'd to hear ſome Muſick, being told that Muſick would exhilerate the Soul; and immediate⯑ly an Apparition of Angels ſurrounded him, and making a Concert of moſt harmonious Muſick play'd admirably for his Conſolation, for a very conſiderable while.

[355] ST. IGNATIUS had like Apparitions of An⯑gels playing ſweet Leſſons of heavenly Muſick to him when he was writing his Book of Conſtitu⯑tions; likewiſe af [...]er his Death a Concert of An⯑gels made moſt excellent Muſick at his Grave, and ſeveral Stars were ſeen plac'd upon his Sepulchre.

N. B. The firſt Stars that were ever ſeen in Apparition upon Earth; nor indeed did I ever hear that the Stars walk'd before.

SOME Apparitions have been form'd by the Po⯑licy, or rather the meer Face of the Prieſts, to prove their abſurd Doctrines. Surius, a zealous Writer for Invocation of Saints, ſays, that what⯑ever Hereticks may prate, (he ſhould have ſaid, what⯑ever the Scripture may prate) it is abundantly prov' [...] that the departed Saints know our Concerns on Earth, and hear our Petitions, and ſo he determines the Queſtion in Controverſy, viz. Invocation of Saints.

Surius Not. ad Bonavent. in Vit. St. Franciſci.

HE does not indeed offer any thing to prove the Fact, but ſeveral miraculous Apparitions of the Bleſſed Virgin to the devout Prieſts praying to her, one of which may be as true as the other.

TO prove the Poſſibility of a Perſon being in two Places at once, we are aſſur'd of the follow⯑ing Apparition of St. Ignatius.

LEONARD KESEL, a Jeſuit of Cologne, paſſionately deſir'd to ſee this extraordinary Perſon; of whom he had heard ſuch wonderful Things re⯑lated, and whoſe Fame ſpread far and wide for a moſt wonderful Man: Keſel, an honeſt well-mean⯑ing Man, knowing very well the beſt way to ſee a Man was to be brought to the Place where he was, and having no Notion of his being a Worker of Impoſſibilities, tho' he thought him a ſtrange Perſon too; yet, I ſay, not dreaming of Miracles, [356] he writes to Ignatius what a deſire he had to ſee him, and begs his Leave, (for Keſel being a Prieſt of his Order, he could not ſtir without Licenſe) I ſay, begs his Leave to come to Rome to receive his Bleſſing.

IGNATIUS forbids him; poſitively aſſuring him that if ſuch an Enterview was neceſſary, GOD would provide a way for it, without giving him the trouble of ſo long a Journey.

KESEL did not underſtand the meaning of the Anſwer, and was extreamly diſſatisfy'd to be ſo far under the Diſpleaſure of his Superior, as to be de⯑ny'd coming to ſee him, which he ſo paſſionately deſir'd; however he was oblig'd to ſubmit, and waited the Event.

UPON a Day, ſays the Story, when he leaſt thought of it, behold Ignatius comes up into his Cell, or Chamber, and having talk'd with him a very conſiderable while, ſuddenly diſappear'd; lea⯑ving the Jeſuit exceedingly comforted with ſuch a prodigious wonderful Viſit.

ST. FRANCIS did theſe things frequently, it ſeems, and rid thro' the Air in a fiery Chariot; which I dare ſay is as true as that St. Dunſtan, while he was a Boy, flew down from the top of Glaſtenbury Tor, or Tower, a Place well known in Somerſetſhire.

THE Converſion of St. Ignatius, they tell us, was brought to paſs by an Apparition of St. Peter to him, who came and touch'd his Wounds re⯑ceiv'd in Battle, and healed them immediately; and yet it ſeems as if St. Peter was but a lame Doctor, for that St. Ignatius halted, and that his Leg was crooked as long as he liv'd, cannot be deny'd; whereas when St. Peter healed the impotent Man at Jeruſalem, the Text ſays he made him every whit whole, Acts iii. 7, 8.

[357] ST. FRANCIS is ſaid to have done innume⯑rable Cures for ſick and diſeaſed Perſons, by ap⯑pearing to them after his Death, and I could fill a Volume with the Hiſtory of them; but it ſeems to be needleſs, all true Catholicks acknowledge it.

PASCALL, Ignatius's Chamber-Fellow and Companion, being reduced to great Neceſſities af⯑ter his Death, implores the Aſſiſtance of his Col⯑legue in the Church of St. Laurence, or ſome other Church at Rome; immediately he heard a melodious Sound, and ſaw Ignatius appearing to him, attended with a numerous and beautiful Train of the Servants of God; but what Relief the Ap⯑parition gave him in his extream Neceſſity, this Deponent ſaith not.

BUT I may cloſe the Diſcourſe of impos'd Ap⯑paritions with that memorable Story of Jetzer, a Dominican in the Monaſtry or Houſe of Domini⯑cans at Bern, in Swiſſerland: The Forgery is ma⯑nifeſt, and the Reaſon of it; 'twas an Impoſition upon the Franciſcans, and contriv'd to carry on the Contention which was between the two Societies to a compleat Victory.

THE Franciſcans inſiſt upon the Bleſſed Virgin's being Immaculate, and born without original Sin, ſanctify'd from the Womb; and therefore they can⯑nonize Bleſſed St. Ann, who was the Virgin's Mo⯑ther, and make her a triumphant Saint; almoſt as glorious as her Daughter, and have a Service for her, call'd, the Prerogatives of St. Ann, Mother of the Mother of God: wherein they declare ſhe con⯑ceiv'd the Bleſſed Virgin without the Knowledge of a Man, and that it was upon an Apparition of two Angels to her, which ſhe relates to her Huſ⯑band Joachim. There's an Apparition too for the Confirmation of the Franciſcans. (That's by the way.)

[358] THE Dominicans, on the other hand, deny that the Virgin is Immaculate; they allow that ſhe is conceiv'd in Sin, but that ſhe continu'd un⯑der the Culpa or Defilement but three Days; and they bring in an Apparition of the Bleſſed Virgin to this Friar Jetzer, lamenting to him that they ſhould go about to make her equal to her Son in Holineſs, and confeſſing, in the Words of the Text, that ſhe was ſhapen in Iniquity, Pſal. li. 5.

SO here is one Miracle to confute another, and perhaps both alike authentick.

BUT the Story of Jetzer is full of Miracles, all contriv'd by the Prior, and three of the Fa⯑thers: firſt, the Apparition of a Soul in Purgatory comes to Jetzer with a Box near his Mouth, ſo con⯑triv'd, that when he breath'd upon it, it appear'd to be all Fire coming out of his Mouth; he had alſo three Dogs hanging upon him, and gnawing him as his Tormentors.

IN this Poſture he comes to the poor Friar Jet⯑zer in the dark, and when he was in his Bed, tells him his deplorable Condition, but that he might be taken out of Purgatory by his Means, and by his Mortifications; and this Story he backs with moſt horrible Groans, as in the utmoſt Miſery by his Sufferings.

N. B. You are to underſtand that this Friar Jet⯑zer was a Fellow pick'd out to make a proper Tool for theſe Impoſtures, being very ſilly, and very devout; and had they not over-acted the thing, the Deſign might have gone a great way.

IN Conſequence of the firſt Apparition, they made the poor Friar undergo ſevere Diſcipline, Whipping and Mortifications, and then the Appa⯑rition came and thank'd him, and told him he was deliver'd out of Purgatory by his Means; ſo that [359] Part ended, to the infinite Satisfaction of the poor macerated Friar.

THE next was the Apparition of the ſame Per⯑ſon, but in the Habit of a Nun, repreſenting St. Bar⯑bara, and all in Glory; telling him, [...]at the bleſſed Virgin was ſo delighted with his Zeal and Devotion, that ſhe would viſit him the next Day in Perſon, and give him her Benediction for Con⯑ſolation in his Sufferings and Mortifications; at which the Fool (the Friar I mean) was raviſhed with Joy, and prepar'd himſelf and the whole Conv [...]nt to receive her.

AT the appointed time, the expected Deluſion appeared: The bleſſed Virgin, clothed with the utmoſt Magnificence, dreſs'd up with Jewels, as ſhe uſed to be on Occaſion of the moſt ſol [...]mn Feſti⯑vals; attended by Angels which were ſeen to be flying about her, as her Pages.

N. B. They were the little carv'd Angels which were placed in the Church upon extraordinary Days, and now placed as Machines about the Apparition, and lifted up in the Air, with Pul⯑lies faſten'd in the Room above.

IN this Equipage, the Lady Queen of Heaven, Mother of God, was brought in Apparition to her poor mortify'd and humble Servant; ſhe careſt him with high Expreſſions of Affection to him, extol⯑ling the Merit of his Charity, in ſuffering ſuch S [...] ⯑verities for the meer Love of delivering a poor tormented Soul out of Purgatory; own'd to him, that ſhe was conceived in original Sin; and told him Pope Julius, who then held the Chair, ſhould put a final End to all thoſe Diſputes, and ſhould aboliſh the Feaſt of her Conception. After much more to the ſame purpoſe, ſhe promiſed him a Miſſion to go to the holy Father in her Name, to aſſure him of the Truth of the Viſion, and that it was her Pleaſure it ſhould be ſo; and in Confirmation of it [360] all, ſhe gave him three Drops of Blood, which ſhe told him were the Tears Chriſt ſhed, when he wept over Jeruſalem; with abundance of ſuch like.

HERE was a true ſham Apparition now, form'd to eſtabliſh a particular Sect or Society; and a parti⯑cular Profeſſion, concerning the immaculate Concep⯑tion; here could the impatient Friars have ſet Bounds to their Revenge, they had had a compleat Victory over the Franciſcans. Nay, had St. Francis himſelf come up in Apparition on the other ſide, it would not have balanc'd the Cheat; for all the World began to give Credit to the Apparition.

BUT the Prieſts knew no Bounds; nothing would ſerve them but new Apparitions to the Friar, and new Mortifications to the Franciſcans; 'till in ſhort J [...]tzer himſelf, as fooliſh and ſimple as he was, ſaw through it, detected the Cheat, and eſcaping out of the Monaſtery, diſcover'd it all to the Magi⯑ſtrates, having twice eſcaped being poiſon'd by them; ſo the whole Fraud ended at the Gallows, or rather at the Stake, for the four Friars were condemned to be burnt, and were executed accor⯑dingly.

THE Hiſtory of the Diſcovery is not to my Purpoſe, it may be ſeen in many Authors, as alſo the Tryal, Sentence, and Execution of the Crimi⯑nals at Bern, May 31, 1509, where they were all burnt together. But this Part is effectually to my Purpoſe, viz. that there has been, and I doubt not ſtill is, a great deal of ſham Apparition impos'd upon the World by the Deluſions of others; and as it lies chiefly among the Clergy, where muſt we look for it, but where it is to be found?

NOR are the Pagan Clergy free from the ſame vile Practices, namely, to forge Apparitions to con⯑firm their Deluſions; and the Hiſtory of all Coun⯑tries are full of Accounts of it, too many to repeat here.

[361] THE Poſſeſſions and Exorciſms in the diſmal Story of the Devils of Loudon, are full of Appari⯑tions and Viſions, by which the wretched Fraud was carried on, and by which ſo much Villany was practis'd, as is almoſt without Example; a Story which has already fill'd a Book, and is extant in many Languages; a Fraud not out-done by the Brachmans and Prieſts of the Pagans in China, or in Japan.

I MIGHT next entertain you with ſham Appa⯑ritions put in Practice by the Devil himſelf, in thoſe Countries where he has made himſelf be worſhip⯑ped as a God, and where he ſupports all the Devil⯑worſhip by Apparition; ſhowing himſelf now one way, now another, as he finds it for his Purpoſe; appearing one Day in Fire and Flame, at another time in Storm and Tempeſt, at a third time in Humane and Familiar Shape; and in all the End is to keep up the Dread of his Perſon in the Minds of his Worſhip⯑pers, and to preſerve a Reverence to his Inſtitutions, whatever they are.

IF we may believe our Writers of Travels, and Obſervers of Things, the Devil not only aſſumes Humane Shape, but inſinuates himſelf in the real Perſon of a Devil to the Women, and ſo poſſeſſes them, (to ſay no more of it) as to commit horrid nameleſs Wickedneſſes with them, ſuch as are not to be ſuggeſted without Horror. In other Places, the Apparition of the Devil is the Fund of all their religious Worſhip, and he has Altars ere⯑cted, and Sacrifices, nay, which is worſe, Human Sacrifices offered to him.

IN theſe horrid Performances, he appears in ter⯑rible Shapes, and the poor Natives are ſo frighted at him, that the Fear only excites the Homage which they pay to him, and ſecures to him an en⯑tire Sovereignty: for Fear, may, for ought I know, be the Characteriſtick of a Pagan Worſhip, as Love is that of a Chriſtian.

[362] THE Great Temple of Montezuma at Mexico was little elſe but a horrible Butchery of Humane Carcaſſes, the Blood of which lay ſprinkled or daſh'd againſt the Walls, 'till it lay there har⯑dened and congeal'd, if Report may be believ'd, a⯑bove a Foot thick, and that they ſacrifiz'd at leaſt twentythouſand People a Year, in that one Pagode or Temple.

THE Indians confeſs'd, that they had frequent Apparitions among them of the Spiritis, which they called by ſeveral Names; and that the Great Spirit, that is the Devil, alſo appeared to them up⯑on their Great Feſtivals, in bright and extraordi⯑nary Apparition; to approve and accept of their Worſhip and Homage, and no doubt of their Sa⯑crifices too.

IN Cochin China we are told the Devil goes far⯑ther; for he not only ſhows himſelf in Apparition, but he utters lying Oracles, even himſelf in his pro⯑per Perſon, and alſo whiſpers ſuch Anſwers to the Prieſts, as ſerve to keep up a Decorum in their Worſhip, and a ſecret Reverence to his Perſon. And Father Borri ſays, the Devil walks about there ſo frequently, and ſo familiarly in Humane Shapes, that they are not at all diſturb'd at him.

AT other times, as the ſame Author affirms, they aſſociate themſelves with particular Perſons, upon various Occaſions, and eſpecially with the Women, as abov [...]; ſo that, in ſhort, in ſome Cities, which are very populous, it would be ſomething hard to diſtinguiſh between the real People and the Ap⯑paritions. How far, if it were examin'd into, it would not be the like among us, I won't pretend to ſay.

WHO knows, in our Throngs of divided Chri⯑ſtians, whether he meets with a Saint or an Appa⯑rition; whether he talks with a Counſellor or a Devil? and the art of diſcerning would indeed be well [363] worth having; indeed, it would be worth buying, if Money would purchaſe it. The Devil's Diſguiſes are very many, and Apparition is one of the beſt of them, becauſe he can ſoon change Shapes, and change Poſtures, which in other Caſes he may find leſs advantageous to his Intereſt. Nor is it eaſy for Mankind to come to the Certainty, even when he ſees an Apparition, whether it be a Good or an Evil Appearance; and the beſt way of finding it out, except that of judging by the Errand he comes on, and which I have mention'd already, is to ask it the Queſtion directly; if it equivocates and ſhuffles, conclude 'tis the Devil; for he is a Sharper, and a Diſſembler from the Beginning: if 'tis a good Spirit, it will anſwer you directly and honeſtly, and tell you its Buſineſs at once; and this is what I mean, where I ſay, SPEAK TO IT.

IF you find it is a good Spirit hearken to it; if the Devil, defie it; and whether it be a good or evil Spirit, fear it not; for both are under the ſpe⯑cial Direction and Authority of him that made the World, and will govern it, in whoſe Hands you are; and 'tis well it is ſo; For as Good is above Evil, ſo God is above the Devil. Tell him ſo, and bid him Defiance, and if you can but do it with a good Heart he's gone; depend upon it, he'll never ſtand you, Probatum eſt. But I muſt leave off the religious Cheats, for they are endleſs; 'tis time to talk of Apparitions of another nature, leſs ſerious, and leſs tireſome to hear of.

CHAP. XV. Of Imaginary Apparitions, the Apparitions of Fancy, Vapours, waking Dreams, de⯑lirious Heads, and the Hyppo.

AS the Devil is not ſo Black as he is Painted, ſo neither does he appear in ſo many Shapes as we make for him; we Dreſs him up in more Suits of Cloaths, and more Maſquerade Habits, than ever he wore; and I queſtion much, if he was to ſee the Pictures and Figures which we call Devil, whether he would know himſelf by ſome of them or no.

IT would require more Skill than, I doubt, I am Maſter of, to bring you all to a right Method of thinking upon this Subject; however I ſhall venture upon it by way of Eſſay, that you may form ſuch Images of the old Gentleman in your Mind, that you may not be cheated about him, may know him when you ſee him, may not call him out of his Name, or beſtow his Right Wor⯑ſhipful Titles upon another.

IT is obſervable, that tho' moſt People in all Parts of the World allow there is ſuch a thing as a Devil, an evil Spirit, an Arch-Enemy of Mankind; and they are pretty near one another in their ſeve⯑ral Notions of him; for even thoſe Savages that worſhip him, acknowledge they do ſo only that he may not hurt them; yet they differ exceedingly in their Ideas of his Perſon, and that almoſt every where; and accordingly it follows that they muſt differ in their Repreſentations and Pictures of him.

[365] SOME Paint him one way, ſome another; and yet I obſerve that ſo little good Will they have for him any where, that they all Picture him as ugly, as monſtrous, and as deform'd as they can.

I HAVE heard of ſome Pagans who worſhip a black Cloud for the Devil, becauſe it often ſpeaks in Noiſes, and breathes out Fire. I cannot ſay but worſhipping the Sun for a God, and the Thunder and Lightening for a Devil, ſeems to me to have more Senſe in it than many of the other Branches of Idolatry in the World; the one being the moſt natural reſemblance of the greateſt Good, and the other of the greateſt Evil in the World.

SOME, I am told, reſemble or repreſent the Devil by a vaſt great Globe of Wood carv'd or cut all over into Mouths, deſcrib'd in a thou⯑ſand different Diſtortions, gaping, grining, and vo⯑racious Figures; all intimating a greedy unquench⯑able Thirſt or Appetite to devour and deſtroy; rolling itſelf continually about, ſo that ſome of its thouſand of Mouths being undermoſt, are always gaping and biting, and taking in ſomething, but ever unſatisfy'd, the reſt of 'em gaping ſtill for more. If this hideous Repreſentation is not juſt to his Form, I think verily it is juſt to his Nature, and is very Emblematick: the Thoughts it gives Birth to in our Fancy, may not be ſo remote as are form'd by thoſe ſimple, Comick, and yet wou'd-be⯑frightful Draughts we draw of him; with a Cock's Bill, Aſs's Ears, Goat's Horns, glaring Eyes, Batts Wings, cloven Foot, and Dragon's Tail; not one of which, except the laſt, having either Antiquity or Authority for them, that I know of.

IT'S true, he is deſcrib'd in the Apoc a lypſe as a great red Dragon, and in another Place as a Beaſt, but neither of them give us any true Idea of his real Form.

[366] NOW if we do not know his Figure, how ſhall we know him in Apparition? for if we know no⯑thing of his real Shape, how ſhall we judge of him in his Diſguiſe? How ſhall we ſingle him out up⯑on Occaſion? Suppoſe we were to look for him at a Maſquerade; For my Part I cannot deny but I might miſtake him, and pitch upon a Prieſt, or a Turk, a Tinker or a Tarpaulin, and ſay this is the Devil, or that is the Devil, as ſoon as the real Hydra-pater himſelf, and let him paſs perhaps for a No-body worth taking Notice of.

AS then, I ſay, we have ſuch unguided Notions of him, and know him ſo little in any of his un⯑couth Figures and Diſguiſes, 'tis not ſo much won⯑der that we miſtake every ugly miſ-ſhapen mon⯑ſtrous Thing, and call it by his venerable Name.

HOW often has poor unhappy ſhapeleſs Z—M—been ſtarted at, even in the open Day; nay, in the very Sun-ſhine? Bleſs me! ſays a fine Lady in the Mall, one Day as ſhe paſs'd him, ſure that's the Devil: Why Siſter, ſays ſhe to the Lady that was next her, did not you ſee it? I'll be gone, I am frighted out of my Wits: Why if I ſhould meet it again, I ſhall ſink into the Ground: I'm ſorry I did not ſee him, ſays the Siſter, for I want mightily to ſee the Devil; but I was hap⯑pily better employ'd, for juſt that Moment Sir G—D—, that Glory of Heroes, the brighteſt of Men, went by me; my Soul flew a⯑long with him, dear Siſter, 'tis hardly come back yet.

O! YOU'RE happy, Siſter, you ſaw a Heavenly, I an Infernal; you an Arch-Angel, I the Devil: let me go, Siſter, for I am undone if I ſee him a⯑gain; if I were with Child I ſhould bring forth a Monſter.

HE had not gone twenty Yards farther, but a Knot of Ladies met him; it ſeems they were Roman [367] Catholicks, and they all croſs'd themſelves and look'd up to Heaven, ſaid every one of them an Ave and a Pater, and went on as faſt as they could.

A LADY big with Child had the Misfortune to be next, who was ſo frighted, ſhe fell into Fits, went home, and Miſcarried; and laſtly, which was more unhappy, juſt as he ſtept out of the Mall, at the turning to St. James's, he almoſt joſtled a⯑nother Lady that was nearer her Time, and ſhe immediately call'd for a Chair, was carried away, fell into Travel, and died in Child-bed.

AND yet this Piece of Deformity, this Scare Devil, Z—M—, is an honeſt good-hu⯑mour'd Fellow as lives, and I happen'd to ſee him ſoon after.

WHAT have you done, Zach? ſaid I, was you in the Park to Day?

YES I was, ſays he. Why, what's the Matter, have any of the Ladies fallen in Love with me?

YES, yes, ſays I, you put the whole Mall in an Uproar.

I THOUGHT ſo, ſays he; I knew I ſhould have Admirers as well as other Beaus: Why not, pray? but let 'em die, I am Inexorable.

BUT do you know what Miſchief you have done? ſaid I in Earneſt.

NOT I, ſays he, but I ſuppoſe I may have frighted ſomebody or other with my Devil's Face; and what then? how can I help it? If they don't like me, they may look off o' me.

WHY no, ſays I, it ſeems they can't.

NO, no, Beauty is attractive, you know, and ſo is Deformity, ſays he; if you meet a Will with a Wiſp you can't look off of it: They will look at me, they can't help it, and they look ſo long you ſee, that I fright every now and then one or two of them into Love with me.

[368] HARD Fate of the Sex, ſaid I, Zach. that Men ſhould be ſo ſcarce they muſt be in Love with the Devil. I am perſuaded many of them take you for an Apparition.

THAT'S a Sign of horrid Ignorance, ſays he merrily; why, he is not half ſo ugly as I am. 'Tis a ſign they don't know him; I tell you the De⯑vil's a comely Fellow to me, Jack.

THOU art an ugly Dog, that's true, ſaid I, but thou art the beſt-humour'd, goodeſt-natur'd Crea⯑ture alive, ſaid I: upon my Word, I'd be Z—M—, though I frighted all the Ladies in the Park, to have half the Wit, and Senſe, and good Humour that is cover'd with ſo much Defor⯑mity.

AND I'd be any thing but two, ſays he, to be but juſt tolerable to Mankind, and not fright the Horſe I ride on.

BUT two! What two pray? ſaid I. Are there two Things you wou'd not change for?

YES, ſays Z—, I wou'd not be a Fool or a Beggar; but eſpecially not the firſt.

NOW what is the Caſe of this unhappy Gen⯑tleman? 'tis quite the Reverſe of what the Ladies take him for; one ſays he is the Devil, and ano⯑ther ſays 'tis the Devil, and another that 'tis an Apparition; and the laſt is true. But, of what? not of the Devil, I aſſure you. Apparitions, they ſay, generally aſſume a different Likeneſs; the Devil never Maſques in Deformity, an Angel may; the Devil often puts on the Beau, and the Beauty; he is to-day a ſmart young rattling Fop, to-morrow a Smirk, a Spruce, a Harlequin; to-day he is a de⯑vout Lady at Prayers, to-morrow a Coquet, a Maſquer at the Ball; but 'tis all fine and clever: he very rarely puts on Uglineſs, for that wou'd be no Diſguiſe to him.

[369] ON the contrary, when a bright Seraph dreſſes in Form, it takes up the Extreme of its Contrary; and a Divine and exalted Soul may put on the Ha⯑bit of an unſightly Carcaſs, to appear in the World in a more compleat Maſquerade; and thus it was with my Friend Zach. Ma—, his Outſide was indeed a Maſquerade to him, he was perfectly the Reverſe of what he appear'd, and he had the brighteſt and ſublimeſt Soul that was ever wrapt up in Fleſh and Blood, in the Poſture or Habit of ſomething uglyer to look on than the Devil.

IN a word, he was a Devil to the Imagination, for every body thought of the Devil when they ſaw him; went home and told their Maids and their Children they had ſeen the Devil, and told it over ſo often, 'till they believ'd it themſelves, and ſo made a real Apparition of him, as it were by the mere force of his extraordinary Counte⯑nance.

YET the honeſt Gentleman had no Horns on his Head, no Cock's Bill, or a cloven Foot, I aſſure you; but was meer Zach. M—, as merry and as good-humour'd a Creature as ever liv'd; full of Wit, Maſter of Learning, Temper, and a thouſand good Qualities, without one bad one; nothing amiſs in him, or about him, but his Outſide, and as to that nothing ſo frightful in the three Kingdoms.

NOW if meeting poor mortify'd merry Zach. M—ſhou'd raiſe the Vapours among us, and from a little Jeſting at firſt, fright the poor La⯑dies into Miſcarriage, Travel, and the Grave; make them go home, and ſay in Jeſt, they had ſeen the Devil, 'till they believ'd it in Earneſt: what will not the like ungovernable Fancy, and Power of a frighted Imagination, prevail upon us to think or ſay?

A SOBER grave Gentleman, who mu [...] not wear a Name in our Story, becauſe it was rather a Diſtemper [370] in his Mind than a real Deficiency of Brains, had, by a long Diſuſe of the ſprightly Part of his Senſe, which he really had no want of at other times, ſuffer'd himſelf to ſink a little too low in his Spirits, and let the Hypochondria emit too ſtrong⯑ly in Vapour and Fumes up into his Head. This had its Fits and its Intervals; ſometimes he was clear⯑ſighted, and clear-headed, but at other times he ſaw Stars at Noon-day, and Devils at Night: In a word, the World was an Apparition to his Ima⯑gination, when the Flatus prevail'd, and the Spleen boil'd up; of all which he could give no account, nor could he aſſiſt the Operation of Phyſick by any of his own Powers towards a Cure.

IT happen'd that he was abroad at a Friend's Houſe later than ordinary one Night, but being Moon-light, and a Servant with him, he was eaſy, and was obſerved to be very chearful, and even Merry, with a great deal of good Humour, more than had been obſerved of him for a great while be⯑fore.

HE knew his Way perfectly well, for it was within three Miles of the Town where he liv'd, and he was very well mounted; but tho' the Moon was up, an Accident which a little diſorder'd him was, that it was not only cloudy, but a very thick, black Cloud came ſuddenly, (that is to ſay, without his Notice, ſo it was ſuddenly to him) and ſpread over his Head, which made it very dark; and to add to the Diſorder, it began to rain violently.

UPON this, being very well mounted, as I have ſaid, he reſolved to ride for it, having not above two Miles to the Town; ſo clapping Spurs to his Horſe, he gallop'd away. His Man, whoſe Name was Gervais, not being ſo well mounted, was a good way behind. The Darkneſs and the Rain together put him a little out of Humour; but as that []

[371] was a little unexpected perhaps it made him ride the harder, rather than abated his Pace.

IN the Way there was a ſmall River, but there was a good Bridge over it, well walled on both ſides; ſo that there was no Danger there, more than any where elſe: But the Gentleman kept on his ſpeed to go over the Bridge, when being rather more than half over, his Horſe ſtopt on a ſudden, and re⯑fuſed, as we call it, bearing off to the right hand; he ſaw nothing at firſt, and was not much diſcompos'd at it, but ſpurr'd his Horſe to go forward; the Horſe went two or three Steps, then ſtopt again, ſnorted, and ſtared, and then offer'd to turn ſhort back; then the Gentleman looking forward to ſee what was the matter, and if he could obſerve what the Horſe was ſcared at, ſaw two broad ſt [...]ring Eyes, which, as he ſaid, look'd him full in the Face.

THEN he was heartily frighted indeed; but by this time he heard his Man G [...]rvais coming up. When Gervais came near, the firſt thing he heard his Maſter ſay, was—Bleſs me, it is the Devil! at which Gervais, a low-ſpirited Fellow, was as much frighted as his Maſter. However, his Maſter, a little encou [...]aged to hear his Man ſo near him, preſs'd his Horſe once more, and call'd aloud to Ger⯑vais to come; but he, as I ſaid, being frighted too, made no haſte: at length with much ado his Maſter, ſpurring his Horſe again, got over the Bridge, and paſſed by the Creature with broad Eyes, which (the Light a little encreaſing) he affirm'd poſitively, when he was paſs'd, was a great black BEAR, and conſe⯑quently muſt be the Devil.

THO' Gervais was near enough, yet fearing his Maſter would ſet him to go before, he kept as far off as he could: When his Maſter call'd he an⯑ſwer'd indeed, but did not come on, at leaſt did not make much haſte; but ſeeing his Maſter was gone paſt, and that he himſelf was then obliged to follow, [372] he went on ſoftly, and when he came to the Bridge, he ſaw what it was his Maſter's Horſe ſnorted at, and refuſed to go on; of which you ſhall hear more preſently.

HIS Maſter's Horſe being got paſt the Difficul⯑ty, needed no Spurs, but (as frighted Horſes will) flew away like the Wind; and the Rain continu⯑ing, his Maſter, who on many Accounts was wil⯑ling to be at home, let him go; ſo that he was at home and got into the Houſe, long before his Man Jervais could get up with him.

THE Maſter, as ſoon as he came into the Light, ſwoon'd away, and the Fright had had ſuch an ef⯑fect upon him, that when with much Difficulty they had brought him to himſelf, he continued very ill; and when his Lady, and a Siſter he had in the Houſe with him, as much over-run with the Hyppo as himſelf, came to enquire what had happened to him, he told them a formal Story, that at ſuch a Bridge he met the Devil; that he placed himſelf juſt at the coming off from the Bridge, on his left hand, at the Corner of the Wall; that he ſtood and ſtared in his Face, and that he could di⯑ſtinctly perceive it was the Devil in the Shape of a Bear: He gave other Deſcriptions, ſo punctual and particular, that there was no room to doubt but it was an Apparition, and that it was in the Shape of a great Bear.

GERVAIS came home ſoon after, and going in⯑to the Stable directly, as was his Buſineſs, to take care of his Maſter's Horſe as well as his own, there he told the Story his Way, among the other Servants, and eſpecially two or three Grooms, and Servants belong⯑ing to Gentlemen that were Neighbours; and he tells them, that his Maſter was in great danger of being thrown over the Wall of the Bridge, for that his Horſe was frighted at an Aſs which ſtood juſt at the Corner of the Wall; and it was my [373] Fault indeed, ſays Gervais, for it was a young Horſe, and I had never told my Maſter; but it was a Trick he had got that he could not abide an Aſs, and would by no means come near one if he could help it.

AND are you ſure 'twas an Aſs, Gervais? ſ [...]ys the other Servants, ſtaring at one another as if they were frighted: Are you ſure of it? Yes, ſays Gervais, for as ſoon as my Maſter got by it, I rid up to it and threſh'd it with my Stick, and it fell a braying, which you know, ſays Gervais, is a baſe ugly Noiſe, and ſo I came away and le [...]t it.

WHY Gervais, ſays they, your Maſter believes it was the Devil, as really as if he had ſpoken to it.

I'M ſorry my Maſter ſhould be ſo frighted, ſays Jervais; but I am very ſure it was nothing but an Aſs. But the Story had gotten Vent, and the firſt Part of it flew all over the Town that Mr.—had ſeen the Devil, and was almoſt frighted to Death.

THEN came his Man Jarvis's Tale, and made it appear that Mr.—'s ſtrange and wonderful Apparition was dwindled into an Aſs, and that the Devil he had ſeen in the Shape of a Bear was no more than a poor Boricco, as the Italians call him; this made his Maſter be laught at ſufficiently.

HOWEVER, poor Jarvis or Gervais was [...]ain to turn out, and loſt his Place for it; and the wiſe Mr.—to this Day inſiſts upon it, that 'twas the Devil, and he knew him by his broad Eyes; tho' 'tis known that a Bear has very little Eyes: but 'tis impoſſible to perſwade any Vapouriſh Body, that they have not ſeen the Devil, if they have but ſeen ſomething, and that they are very ſure, they are not ſure what it is.

I REMEMBER a Deluſion almoſt as groſs, the Memory of which I believe remains for a Truth to this day. Not far off of the Town of Darking in Surrey, the People, or ſome People rather, entertained [374] a Notion, from the following Paſſage, that a Ghoſt walk'd in ſuch a Place; that ſhe (for it was an antient Lady lately dead) was ſeen hovering about the Manſion-houſe which was left uninha⯑bited for ſome time, that ſhe would be up and down in the Houſe very often, in the Day-time, making a rumbling, and a clattering Noiſe; and in the Night-time ſhe walk'd in the neighbouring Fields with a C [...]ndle in her Hand, and that tho' the Wind blew ever ſo hard, it would not blow the Candle out; that ſometimes ſhe would appear in the open Field, ſometimes up in the Trees, and particularly there was a little Heath near Darking called the Cottman D [...]an, where it was ſaid ſhe was frequently ſeen.

THERE was a Boarding-ſchool of Boys in that Town, where there was in particular ſome roguiſh London Boys, who contrived all this Walking from the Beginning to the End; Firſt, they got a ſmall Rope, and tying one end of it to an old Chair which ſtood in an upper Room of the H [...]ſe, (for they had found means to get in and out of the Houſe at pleaſure) they brought the other end of the Rope down on the Out-ſide of the Houſe in a private Place where it could not eaſily be ſeen, and by this they pulled the old Chair up, and then let it fall down again, and made a great Noiſe in the Houſe, ſo as it might be eaſily heard by the Neigh⯑bours; then other Boys of the ſame Gang took care to call out to the old Women in the next Houſes, that now they might hear the old Lady a playing her Pranks; and accordingly they would all a [...] ⯑ſemble in the Court-yard, where they could plainly hear it, but not one would venture to go up Stairs. If any offered to go up a little way, then all was quiet again; but as ſoon as ever they retired, the rumbling would begin again: This was for the Day.

[375] IN the Night, one of theſe unlucky Boys had gotten a dark Lanthorn, which was a thing the Country People did not underſtand, and with this he walk'd all about the Orchard, and two or three Cloſes near the Houſe, ſometimes ſhewing the Light on this ſide, and then his Comrades calling all the old Women about 'em to ſee it, on a ſudden the Light would go out, the Boy cloſing up the Lan⯑thorn; and then he would run ſwiftly croſs the whole Field, and ſhew his Light again on the other ſide. Now he would be up in a Tree, then in the Road, then upon the middle of the Heath; ſo that the Country People made no more Queſtion, but that the old Lady walk'd with a Candle in her Hand, than that they ſaw the Light of it; and in a word, it paſs'd for an Apparition as certainly as we on the other hand knew what Knavery agitated it all.

IT muſt be con [...]eſs'd that a dark Lanthorn, join'd with an Enthuſiaſtick Head, might prevail to make ſuch a Sham take, with weak and bigotted Peo⯑ple, and they were mighty willing to ſay before⯑hand that they were ſure ſomething walk'd.

WHEN they heard the Chair tumble about in the Chamber, tho' pulled by a String and no body near it, no nor in the whole Houſe, the People who came together in the Court-yard, fancy'd often the ſaw Heads of People moving up and down the Room where the Noiſe was, and one ſaid poſitively ſhe ſaw a white Head-dreſs.

BUT to realize the Deluſion, one cry'd out, There's the Spirit, there's the Ghoſt, juſt at ſuch a Place of the Window; and affirm'd it ſtood cloſe to the Glaſs, and deſcrib'd it; another, as Moon-blind as her ſelf, ſays, Ay, ſo it does, and points perem⯑ptorily to the Place, declaring that ſhe ſees it plain⯑ly; and thus they run away with it all together, that the Ghoſt walks and the Houſe is haunted, and for a long time it is believ'd no other; when here [376] was nothing but the mean Contrivance of a few Boys.

THE Notion of Spirits appearing to diſcover where Money has been buried, to direct People to dig for it, has ſo univerſally prevail'd with Wo⯑mankind, I might ſay and even with Mankind too, that it is impoſſible to beat it out of their Heads; and if they ſhould ſee any thing which they call an Apparition, they would to this Day follow it, in hope to hear it give a Stamp on the Ground, as with its Foot, and then vaniſh; and did it really do ſo, they would not fail to dig to the Center (if they were able) in hopes of finding a Pot of Money hid there, or ſome old U [...]n with Aſhes and Roman Me⯑dals; in ſhort, or ſome conſiderable Treaſure.

A COUNTRY Gentleman had an old-built Houſe, which was the Remains of an old Demoliſhed Mo⯑naſtery or Religious Houſe, and he reſolved to have it pull'd down, but thought the Charge too much to beſtow; ſo he bethought himſelf of a Stratagem, which was to give it out that the Houſe was haunt⯑ed, and this he did ſo artificially, that it began to be currently believed; for he made a Fellow dreſs himſelf up in White, and paſs ſwiftly croſs the inner Court of the Houſe, juſt at a time when he had appointed others to be at the Window to ſee it.

THEY gave Notice to the Houſe that there was an Apparition; then the Maſter and Miſtreſs and all the Family were called up to the Window, where, tho' it was ſo dark that they could not diſtinguiſh what he was, yet they plainly ſaw the thing in white go croſs the Yard, and in at a Door of the old Building; ſoon after it was in they perceiv'd a Flaſh of Fire in the Houſe, which was contriv'd that the Fellow ſhould make with ſome Brimſtone and other Materials on purpoſe, ſo that it ſhould leave a Stench of Sulphur behind it, but not be juſt the Smell of Gunpowder.

[377] AS he expected, it began to work; ſome fanciful People having notice of it, and being deſirous to ſee the ſame Apparition, had the occaſion offer'd them, and ſaw it in its uſual manner of ſhowing it ſelf; its frequent walking was ordinary, at one part of the Houſe where the Spirit had an opportunity to ſlip out at a Door into another Yard, and ſo into the dwelling Houſe; and when it went off that way it gave a great ſtamp with its Foot, and im⯑mediately it was gone.

UPON this it was preſently ſaid there was Mo⯑ney hid, and the Gentleman gave it out that he would dig there for it, and mighty eager People were to have it done; however the Gentleman ſeem'd to cool in the matter: ſtill the Apparition was ſeen to come and go, walk to and again, almoſt every Night, and ordinarily it vaniſh'd in a flaſh of Fire as above, which in a word was very extraor⯑dinary.

AT length ſome of the Towns People in the Village adjoyning, finding the Gentleman began to ſlight or neglect it, gave out, that if Eſquire—would give them leave, they would dig, for that certainly Money was hid there; nay if he would conſent they ſhould have it if they found it, they would dig for it and find it too, tho' they digg'd the whole Houſe down.

THE Gentleman reply'd, that was not fair for them to pull his Houſe down and have all they found too, that was too hard; but he would con⯑ſent to this, That provided they would carry away all the Rubbiſh, and all the Materials which they dug down, and pile up the Bricks and Timber in the Yard near the Houſe, and would be content with half they found, he would give them leave to dig.

WELL, they conſented, and to work they went; the Spirit or Apparition which appear'd at [378] firſt ſeem'd to point out the Place, and the firſt thing they took down was a great ſtack of Chim⯑nies, and a heavy piece of work it was; but the Gentleman, willing to encourage them, ſecretly hid ſeven and twenty Pieces of old Gold in a hole in the Chimney, which had no entrance into it but by one paſſage, which he Brick'd up.

WHEN they came to this Money they were perfectly deluded, and out of their Wits; the Gen⯑tleman happen'd to be near, but not juſt upon the Spot when it was found, and he being call'd, very [...]rankly gave it them all; but upon Condition they ſhould not expect the like, if they found any more.

IN a word, this Bite made the Country Fellows work like Horſes, and more came into the knot; but that which encourag'd them farther was, they did really find ſeveral things of Value in the pulling down the Houſe, which perhaps had lain hid from the time of Demoliſhing it as a religious Houſe; and ſome Money was found too; but continual expectation and hope of finding more ſo animated the Fellows, that in ſhort they pull'd the whole Houſe down; nay, I might ſay they pull'd it up by the Roots, for they dug up the very Foundations, which was what the Gentleman deſir'd, and would have given a great deal of Money to have had done.

NOR did they leave the Houſe in a heap of Rubbiſh; but, according to his Agreement with them, they carried the Materials away, and ſet up the Timber and old Bricks in an adjacent Yard as he directed them, and in good order too.

SO violent was the Perſuaſion, that (upon this fancy'd Apparition walking in the Houſe) Money was hid there, that nothing could ſtop the eager⯑neſs of the Country People in working; as if the Souls of the old Nuns or Friars, or whatever they were who had hid any Treaſure there, ſuppoſing any was hid, could no [...] be at Reſt, as was ſaid in [379] other Caſes, or could be any way concern'd for the finding it ſo many Years afterward, being almoſt two hundred Years.

IF they could ſuppoſe any thing ſo weak, where muſt they ſuppoſe thoſe Departed Souls or Ghoſts could have been, during all that time? and why did they not appear before? what had all the Ages be⯑tween done to be ſo much leſs in their Favour, that they did not come to diſcover this Money to them? but that the Depoſit ſhould remain un [...]r Ground ſo long, without any enquiry after t, 'till this Age, not at all more worthy than their Anceſtors, ſhould be inform'd of it.

THERE is not a thing in Nature ſo generally receiv'd, which has ſo little Foundation, either in Reaſon or Religion, either in Nature or common Senſe; it ſeems not only abſurd, but ridiculous; there is not only no religious Reaſon in it, but it is inconſiſtent with it ſelf: what ſeems only won⯑derful and unaccountable in it is, that ſuch groſs things ſhould make ſuch Impreſſions, and that it ſhould be ſo impoſſible to beat it out of the Heads of the poſſeſs'd People.

IF you ſhould offer to tell them that no hidden Money was ever thus diſcover'd, they would laugh at it as the greateſt Jeſt imaginable, and tell you there were five hundred Examples to the contrary; and yet in all my Search after thoſe things, and after evidence of Fact, I cannot arrive to one Example, where ever an Apparition directed to the finding Money hid in the Ground or Earth, or any other place, and that any Authentick Voucher has been brought to prove it. I know there have been many, perhaps thouſands, of ſuch Stories told, and the Parti⯑culars are handed down with them; but I ſay I never met with any Authentick Proof of the Fact, ſuch as that the Story might be told after them for Truth, and that a Man might ſay without Bluſhing that he [380] believ'd it. And let us but enter a little into the uſual manner in which thoſe Tales are related, there ſeems to be ſomething ſo weak and ſilly in the telling, as if it was only calculated for Children and Chimney corners: for Example; the Apparition is call'd a Ghoſt, 'tis dreſs'd up (to ſuit the weak⯑neſs of the Imagination) in a Shrowd, as if it came juſt out of the Coffin and the Church-yard, and as if the Habit of the Dead was aſſum'd, to poſſeſs the People with the Fancy of its being really the dead Body of the Perſon, and yet allow it at the ſame time to be a Spirit.

WELL, when it comes, and (be it what you will) forms it ſelf in Apparition, all in white, and in a Shroud; what is next? it ſays nothing to you, but goes away before you; and perhaps ſpeaks and bids you go or come along with it, or perhaps without ſpeaking at all, leading and beckoning the Parties they have appear'd to, to follow them, and then ſtamping with the Foot it diſappears at once.

THIS Stamp with the Foot is reckon'd to be a Direction to you to dig juſt there, in order to find ſome extraordinary Treaſure; and he would be reckon'd very ſtupid and ſordidly dull that ſhould neglect the Direction, and not dig there; and many a vain and fruitleſs Pit has been dug on ſuch occa⯑ſions, to no purpoſe at all.

BUT that I may not declare my Infidelity in theſe things in an unreaſonable manner, and disbe⯑lieve without any juſt Reaſon; let me give you a long Story, which ſeems to be left upon Record, of a Pedlar in the Town of—in Suffolk, a Story believ'd as certainly as the Goſpel; and which it would be thought very abſurd for any one to queſtion the Truth of.

THERE was a Pedlar, ſays the Story, who us'd to travel about the Country with his Pack, but [381] kept a Chamber or Ware-houſe in the Market-Town for the depoſiting and laying up ſome Goods which he had there, and which were too many at a time to carry them all about with him.

IT happen'd that this Man having been abroad late, and coming home with his Pack, ſat himſelf down upon a Stile, reſting his Pack at the ſame time for his Eaſe: while he ſat here, there came up to him a Ghoſt, in the Appearance of a Woman dreſs'd as above; ſhe came up to him with a ſmiling Countenance, and when ſhe diſcover'd her ſelf ſhe ſtept backward, and holding up a fine white Hand beckoned to him with a Finger to follow her.

THE Pedlar, frighted as he was, immediately follow'd the Apparition; (what he did in the mean time with his Pack that's a gap in the Story, which Tradition has not ſupply'd;) the Apparition leads him in this manner, going backward and beckon⯑ing with her Hand over two or three Fields, 'till it came to a particular place, where there lay a great Stone, and there giving a ſtamp with its Foot it vaniſhed.

THE Man takes the hint, marks the Stone, goes home to carry his Pack, as we ought to ſup⯑poſe, and comes out the next Night with a Spade and a Pick Axe, and goes to work to dig a great Pitt in the Earth.

HE had not dug far it ſeems, (tho' the Story does not ſay expreſly how far) but he found a large Cheſt; I ſay large, for it could not be a ſmall one, by what you ſhall hear preſently.

HE doubled his Diligence when he came to the Cheſt, and with great Labour at length got it out of the place; and we may ſuppoſe was not long be⯑fore he found means to ſplit it open, and get into the inſide of it to ſee the Contents; for he found it very heavy when he labour'd to get it out.

[382] IN a word, he found the Cheſt full of Silver, that is to ſay, full of Money; then keeping his own Council, he took care to depoſite it ſo, that by ſome and ſome he got the Money all ſafe home, and after that carried the Cheſt home alſo.

WHAT the Sum was that he found here, the Story is not particular in; but it ſeems the bulk was ſuch, that the Pedlar thought fit to leave off his travel⯑ling about the Country as a Pedlar, takes a Houſe in the Town, furniſhes himſelf a Shop, and becomes a ſettled Inhabitant and Shop-keeper. During his appearing in this Figure, it happen'd that the Pariſh Church being exceeding old and out of Repair, the Pariſhioners, (whether by order of the Dioceſan up⯑on a Viſitation, or by the voluntary act and deed of themſelves the Pariſhioners, I know not,) reſolv'd to Repair the Church.

IN order to furniſh the needful Sums for this good Work, they call a Veſtry, and propoſe a Sub⯑ſcription of the Inhabitants, for ſupporting the Ex⯑pence; ſo the Miniſter and Church Wardens go about from Houſe to Houſe to ſee what the Chari⯑table Pariſhioners would contribute, and among the reſt they at length came to the Pedlar's (now Shop⯑keeper's) Houſe, and he being told their Buſineſs deſires them to walk in.

AFTER ſome Diſcourſe, and perhaps treating his Neighbours, he asks for their Roll or Subſcrip⯑tion Paper, in order to ſubſcribe; looking over the Roll he ſees Sir Thomas—five Pounds, another Gentleman five Pounds, another ten Pounds, another forty Shillings, and ſo on: Come, ſays he, give a poor Pedlar the Pen and Ink; Will your Gentry ſub⯑ſcribe no more than that? ſo he takes the Pen, and ſubſcribes five and twenty Pounds.

SOME time after this, having Occaſion to make a Hatch to his Shop-Door, as in the Country is very frequent, it happen'd, that ſending for a Workman [383] to make this Hatch, and looking about among his old Lumber, he found nothing ſo proper as the old Cheſt that the Money was found in, and ac⯑cordingly a Hatch was made of it.

A-WHILE after this, as the Pedlar was ſitting in his Shop, he obſerv'd an Ancient Gentleman who liv'd in the Town, and who had the Reputa⯑tion of a Scholar, and particularly of a great Anti⯑quary, ſtood poring very earneſtly, with his Specta⯑cles on, upon his new Hatch: This brought the Pedlar to the Door, who after waiting a good while to ſee what it was the old Gentleman had diſcover'd, at laſt he ask'd him what it was he found upon his new Hatch, that was worth ſo much of his notice.

TRULY Neighbour, ſays the Gentleman, what I obſerve is very remarkable, tho' I cannot tell the Meaning of it; and I ſuppoſe 'tis in a Character that you cannot eaſily read, as well as in a Lan⯑guage that you may not underſtand.

THE Pedlar deſir'd he would read it to him.

WHY, ſays the Gentleman, you do not underſtand it, when I have read it.