own stairs, the jacks going, and a
great clattering of plates and dishes. Thus he spends an hour or two
every midnight, in living well, after he has been some years dead; but
is complaisant enough to leave every thing, at his departure, in the
same position that he found them.

There is scarcely a little town in all England, but has an old female
spirit appertaining to it, who, in her high-crown hat, nicely clean
linen, and red petticoat, has been viewed by half the parish. This
article of dress is of mighty concern among some ghosts; wherefore a
skilful and learned apparition writer, in the Preface of Drelincourt on
Death, makes a very pious ghost talk to a lady upon the important
subject of scouring a mantua. Before I leave my ghost of dignity, I must
take notice of some who delight to seem as formidable as possible, and
who are not content with appearing without heads themselves, but their
coachmen and horses must be without their's too, and the coach itself
frequently all on fire. These spirits, I know not for what reason, are
universally allowed to have been people of first quality, and courtiers.

As for the vulgar ghost, it seldom appears in its own bodily likeness,
unless it be with a throat cut from ear to ear, or a winding-sheet; but
humbly contents itself with the body of a white horse, that gallops over
the meadows without legs, and grazes without a head. On other occasions,
it takes the appearance of a black shock dog, which, with great goggle,
glaring eyes, stares you full in the face, but never hurts you more than
unmannerly pushing you from the wall. Sometimes a friendly ghost
surprises you with a hand as cold as clay; at other times, that same
ghostly hand gives three solemn raps, with several particularities,
according to the different dispositions of the ghost.

The chief reason which calls them back again to visit the world by
night, is their fondness for some old broad pieces, or a pot of money,
they buried in their life-time; and they cannot rest to have it lie
useless, therefore the gold raises them before the resurrection.

Mr. Addison's charming Essay, in the _Spectator_, is so applicable and
prefatory to a work of this nature, that we cannot resist inserting that
inimitable production in his own words.

"Going to dine," says he, "with an old acquaintance, I had the
misfortune to find his whole family very much dejected. Upon asking him
the occasion of it, he told me that his wife had dreamt