as my favouring their cause on earth is known. -Being mortal, you had best take care of yourself; return to earth, and convoke thy friends together at the next midnight hour. If peace be restored in hell, I will not fail to be amongst you to forewarn you of a danger which, I have just learnt, threatens to crush you all." He then threw his intangible arms around me, and bidding me remember the next midnight hour, he glided off.

The shades and dæmons, at this time, were all in the utmost confusion; and as I endeavoured to retrace my steps back to the ferry, I got into the midst of them, and was, for a long time, bandied to and fro in such a manner, that my approach to the hustings at the Westminster-Arms, was a pleasant task to it. Though there were no clubs, marrowbones, nor cleavears, weapons I mortally dread; yet the noise, the fury of the preparing combatants, and the yells of the rebels whom I heard far off, chaunting their usual hymn of defiance, had so dreadful an effect upon my senses, that, from henceforwards, Milton's description of the battles of the faithful and rebellious angels will

appear as diminutive as those of the pigmies, or the frogs and mice. I began to fear being dragged into the midst of the horrid combat; when I awoke.

Mrs. Merryman. Aye, my dear! I perceived that you were much agitated, and I shook you. Bless me! 'tis a most strange dream, indeed! What do you think of it?

Merryman. I am still so impressed with its reality, that my nerves will be long before they recover their former tone. Is there any thing left in the bottle?

Mrs. Merryman. [Shaking the bottle.] A little, I believe.

Merryman. [Drinks.] I feel somewhat composed now; but I shall not dare to sleep again. Mrs. Merryman. But sure you don't think that the dream carries any portent with it?

Merryman. Be that as it may, I will certainly relate it to my friends to-morrow, as a curious dream. If they shall think proper to notice, and keep the appointment, well; if not, at the worst they can only say that the liquor, which I drank over-night, was adulterated, and disordered my brains.

Merryman, in fact, related his dream to his party the next morning. At first, they affected to laugh heartily at it: but the more they considered it, the more deeply it impressed them. They endeavoured to efface it, but in vain.At length one of them, half in jest and half otherwise, observed, that it would be showing a disrespect to the memory of their departed leader, not to keep the appointment of his shade, and proposed that they should all assemble, and await the event, till past the midnight hour; when they should be confirmed what sort of a dreamer their friend Merryman was; whether he were best, sleeping or waking. As the curiosity of all the rest was on tiptoe, the motion was agreed to, nemine dissentiente.

CHAPTER XII.

THE GHOST OF CHARLEY BRUSH.

K THE public, particularly those of them who may be troubled with weak nerves, are most respectfully informed, that our ghost is not one of the terrific spectres of the present day, manufactured wholesale by M-k L-s, and kept prisoners in a goose-quill, (as the Magician in the Devil upon Two Sticks, kept Asmodeus and a dozen more hapless devils, bottled up,) to be let loose upon the public at his, or his publisher's will and pleasure. No,-our's is a spirit as gentle as the body which it once animated; we wish we could add, and with truth, that it had lost none of its wit; but our

People either may or may not believe in ghosts, apparitions, or hobgoblins;

it is all

one to us. Some may think that the spirits of departed friends are permitted to appear, and forewarn them of approaching good or evil; others may assert that Providence has no occasion for such kind of agents, and that he gives us a secret intimation of any such events. But whether ghosts be useful or not to Providence, we are certain that they are very beneficial to Romance-writers, like ourselves, and very pleas ing to Romance-readers, like you, my dear Ma'am, Miss, or Sir. A book will scarcely sell now without a ghost in it, even if there should be an honorary addendum of half the capitals in the Alphabet, to the real or supposed author's name. Have

you

read such a book, Ma'am?"-"No;-is there a ghost in it?"-"Oh, yes, a charming one!" Then I'll send for it this evening; to-morrow is Sunday, and I shall have nothing else to do but to read it."

Aware of this public prepossession in favour of embodied air, we have put ourselves, or rather our publisher, who is a liberal sort of a little