broke out again in St. Giles's parish, and that a whole family was dead of it. The young lady was in her chamber, when her brother coming up to the door, "Oh sister," said he, "we are all undone"!" "Undone," said she, "what's the matter?" He could not speak for some time, but at last continued-" We are all undone, sister! my mother and you were both in the right, the plague is begun!" He then proceeded to give her an account that two men had been buried in St. Giles's in the Fields; that it was true there were but two persons put in the weekly bill, but he was assured that two or three houses were infected: that five people were dead in one, and seven in another; that the burials in St. Giles's parish, usually sixteen or eighteen a week, had increased to thirty. Though scarcely a day passed without some reasoning on the common calamity, many persons, and particularly one in this family, endeavoured to persuade themselves that the disorder had died away; but about the third or fourth of May, the youngest brother having been out in the morning, came into the counting-house, when, having sent a servant out of the way and shut the door, the elder immediately asked him if he had heard any bad news-any thing more of the plague: Any thing more of it? why 'tis come into the city: here's one dead in the next street to us almost, 'tis but in Bearbinder Lane. Indeed, my Lord Mayor sent two surgeons to search the body, and they have both given it in that he died of the plague-he was a Frenchman."

This discourse having ended, the elder brother went out, and found all the other had said to be true; the plague had infected five or six families in St Giles's, near Long Acre, and had spread down Drury Lane into St. Clement's parish, and the other way into St. Andrews, Holborn. Still it appeared that many persons, especially shop keepers, concealed the distemper as much as they could to prevent their customers from leaving them. The dead they pretended died of the spotted fever, or any thing else they could get the searchers to report for them.

This family, like the other that resided near Wood Street, Cripplegate, after some deliberation, proposed getting a stock of bread and beer into the house, and to trust to their friends in the country, who sent them fresh provisions every week; but when it was considered that no messenger or servant would dare to bring them provisions much longer, this scheme was given up as being then too late. All this time it appears the ordinary carriers had ceased going; besides, there was no passing the roads; the towns were all guarded, the passages stopped; and though they had got certificates of health from the Lord Mayor, the city began now to be so infected that no one would receive them-no inn would lodge them on the way. They had for some time left off burying the dead in the usual form and manner, especially in the out-parts; but the dreadful cry of " Bring out your dead," between twelve and three in the morning, was not heard in the city till the first week in August. In that week more than four thousand persons in the parishes near the city walls, about Bishopsgate and Cripplegate, had died.

This family, having debated three or four days respecting their means of providing for themselves, were happily relieved by the arrival of the captain of a ship that belonged to one of the brothers, which had been fitted out for a voyage to Genoa and Messina. Having something to communicate, he began to tell one of the owners that he wondered he had not removed his family all this while. The captain was some time before he would undertake to explain his proposal; but being pressed to come to the point, he replied-" Why, then, Sir, the short of the story is this:-Have I not a ship here in the river? and is she not your own, excepting a sixteenth which I have by your friendship?

Here we have victuals for her for four months for twenty-two men, and have put her up on the Exchange for Genoa, Naples, and Messina. We have taken in no goods on your account but some hogsheads of sugar and about fifty fodder of lead for ballast: nor, as things are now, will any body ship off any thing; besides, 'tis to no purpose to go to sea; for no nation in Europe will give us product, or let us so much as come to an anchor in any of their ports." In a word, the captain's proposal being adopted, the ship fell down from Rotherhithe to Deptford, and beds and bedding-linen of all sorts, with all kinds of kitchen furniture, and other family necessaries, were packed up in boxes, cases, and bales, as if for the use of passengers. All the plate and valuables of the family were fetched away by the ship's long-boat, and another they borrowed, for three days together, their own servants assisting to put it on board. The captain was equally industrious, and in a few days they were as completely fitted out and provisioned as if a voyage to sea had really been intended.

Their dwelling-house in the city, in the parish of St. Magaret Pattens, they left fastened up with no one in it, the care of it being consigned to the ordinary watch by night, and two poor men who took their turns in keeping the outer door by day, took in letters, and attended to such business as might casually occur. The letters were ordered to be sent to a house at Greenwich; thence they were brought to the ship's side, having been sprinkled with vinegar, and then scorched at the fire.

The ship continued at anchor, a little above Deptford, about a fortnight but finding by that time the dreadful increase of the plague that came on eastward from the other end of the town, by the north side of the city, into Aldgate, Whitechapel, and Stepney, and raged especially in Wapping and Ratcliffe, and even down to Blackwall, also that some persons had died of it in Rotherhithe and Deptford, they expected they should be, as it were, surrounded; so the captain, at their request, weighed and fell down the river to Bugby's Hole, a secure place for ships to ride in.

The vessel they were in carried sixteen guns, and could carry twenty-four; so that they lived at large, and had room enough. The merchants and family had the great cabin and steerage to themselves, with some others built for his maid-servants and children in the gun-room. The captain had the roundhouse and the little room before it, which they called the cuddie, for his family, and the quarter-deck was their parade, over which an awning was thrown; and being closely covered at the top and sides, it appeared like a great hall. Here they rode with much satisfaction all the rest of the month of August, when the last weekly bill amounted to the frightful number of seven thousand four hundred and ninety-six, exclusive of those who died in Deptford and Greenwich. While they thus lay in Bugby's Hole, the captain and the merchant's brother ventured down to Woolwich, or to the upper end of the town; but did not go on shore; neither were the people willing at first that they should, not knowing whence they came, or how they fared on board. They were the more wary, as they knew that in the parishes of Bromley, Blackwall, Poplar, Limehouse, Bow, Old Ford, Bethnal Green, Mile End, &c. there died one thousand and twenty-six that very week.

However, the visit to Woolwich, answered the purpose intended. They learned that the town was not yet infected, excepting two houses at a little distance towards Greenwich, where three or four had died; that the market was yet pretty well supplied with provisions; so they got a poor woman of that place to purchase them fresh butter, eggs, and a good deal of garden stuff. Apples in particular were a great relief to them, having been so long confined

to salt meats, very different from their former way of living. They also purchased such fresh meats as pork and veal. But by the next market day the plague had got so far into the town, that the country people came but very thinly to market. This source being thus interrupted, the captain made a little voyage in his boat to Barking Creek; but here he was informed by the fishing smacks at the mouth of it that the plague had got in there also. The truth they did not stay to ascertain, but came back.

The merchant after this growing impatient, they weighed, and went down to Greenhithe, where they heard that the plague was at Gravesend, Chatham, and Rochester, but happily the news proved premature; yet as the merchant could not bear to be anywhere with the ship. if the plague was beyond him, he made the captain fall down again to Gravesend, and passing the town he came to an anchor below a place since called "The New Tavern," being as far as the Custom House officers would let him pass without clearing.

In fine, they agreed at last to come up the river again, not to Greenhithe where they lay before, but to the upper part of what they call Long Reach. Here they had good and safe riding, though not without some blustering weather. Here lay six other vessels, two above them, and four below; and though they did not go on board each other, yet they soon became acquainted, and conversed upon the state of public affairs. They soon found these were outward bound ships, but embargoed, as it were, by the general calamity; that the captains had all their families on board, with others, and had fallen down there for safety from the plague; and that hitherto there had not been the least illness among them. They had not been there above three days, when the headmost ship made a signal to the rest, which they found was to know if they would join in a weekly fast, which the six ships had observed ever since they rode there, to beg of the Almighty to preserve them from the pestilence; and further stated, that they should be glad if these would join them in it. This being agreed to, an officer in a boat informed the single ship that they began at eight the next morning, and resolved not to eat or drink till six in the evening. Accordingly they kept a most religious day of fasting and humiliation; the captain and his family remained in the round-house, and none of them were employed otherwise than in reading and acts of devotion during that day.

Three days after this, they received the "Weekly Bill of Mortality," stating that from the 29th of August till the 5th of September, the number of the dead was eight thousand two hundred and fifty-two, and of the plague and spotted fever seven thousand one hundred and forty-five. The next resolution partly agreed to by the captains, owners, and people on board, was to put to sea, and sail, if need were, to Ireland, where they might be furnished with provisions, and ride in safety. The principal merchant assured them that he would stand by them and assist them, if they would agree to stand by one another; and that as they were seven sail, all of good force, the people wherever they came might be compelled to furnish them with provisions for their money or they might go on shore and dwell at large, as they found convenient, till this terrible judgment should be overpast. After all, the women being afraid of the sea at that time of the year, and though much time was lost in debate, the proposal was never fully agreed upon.

Three dismal weeks had now been worn out in these consultations and unsteady resolutions, the poor ladies being afraid to stay, and afraid to go away. At length, on the 29th of September, Michaelmas day, they were surprised early in the morning to hear the headmost ship fire five guns. Looking out, they found she had spread her ancient and pendants, and all looked with a face of joy. They then began to call to one another with their speaking trumpets,

when they discovered a boat coming off to give them an account of things; in fact the number of burials was decreased near two thousand. Guns were now fired, and the people in the ships drank to each other. Boats now began to pass and repass as usual to and from London; but none of these would they suffer to come on board, nor any of their own people to go on shore; and in this cautious manner they lived out the whole of November, at which time the burials in London amounted to no more than four hundred and twenty-eight, most of the parishes being entirely clear of the plague. Accordingly they weighed from Long Reach, and came to an anchor near Limehouse. This was followed by mutual visits and congratulations.

While they continued here the merchant's family sent some of their servants to town, to open and air the house, make fires in the rooms, air and warm the beds, and dry the linen. Nevertheless the hangings were taken down and all burnt, except the tapestry; as baking, or washing them in vinegar and drying them afterwards, was not deemed sufficiently safe.

Thus, after four months absence, all things being prepared within doors, they returned to their habitation sound and in health: their measures for preparation and preservation being such as may be justly recommended as an example to others.

DYING HARD.

The execution of criminals in Rome, says Dr. Clarke, is carried on with a vast deal of solemnity, and it is very rare indeed to see an instance of what is called in England, dying hard. The most hardened villain, subdued by long confinement, and the natural superstition of the country, approaches death disspirited and repentant. I remember, however, one instance to the contrary. A bricklayer was, by some means or other, cheated out of his property, by a priest and a lawyer, the last of which was his relation. He made the usual application for justice, which was followed with no redress. For some time he bore his misfortune with firmness, and without complaint; at length, however, the sense of his injuries pressed so hard upon him that he became desperate, and incensed almost to madness. In this state of mind he went one day into the church of St. Giacomo, in the Corso, when the priest was officiating, and shot him dead at the altar. He was apprehended, condemned, and led to execution. Every means had been used to prevail on him to confess his crime and receive absolution, but in vain. The fatal cord was fastened to his neck; the most celebrated friar in Rome had been selected to attend him; the last moment approached, when the friar once more begged he would make confession of his sin. "Upon one condition I will comply with your request,' said the undaunted criminal; "let me have but a slap at the lawyer, and then I will confess both my sins at once."

A REMARKABLE INSTANCE OF CHASTITY.

Thuanus relates a beautiful example of chastity, and of an uncommon return to a sense of honour. In 1578, during the civil wars in the low countries, one of the Spanish officers would have forced the daughter of an advocate of Lisle, at whose house he lodged. This young person, in defending herself, seized the poniard of her ravisher, plunged it in his bosom, and instantly fled. The captain, perceiving his wound to be mortal, called for a confessor, and, impressed with the deepest remorse, entreated his attendants to bring this virtuous young woman to him. "I earnestly implore you,' says he, "to pardon my atrocious attempt. To make you all the reparation in my power, now declare myself your husband. Since niy crime and your virtue have ren

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dered it impossible for me to be united to such excellence, receive, at least, with my name, the rights of my wife to all my fortune. Let those who shall be informed of the violence I would have committed learn, at the same time, that, by an honourable marriage, I have expiated my odious attempt to dishonour you, and have recompensed the courage with which you have defended yourself." On finishng these words, the noble Spaniard, with the consent of her father, and in presence of his confessor, espoused the virgin. He expired soon after; leaving all in doubt which most to admire,-the magnanimity with which he had atoned for his crime, or the courage which the virtuous girl had displayed in the defence of her honour.

DISTRESSES OF CAPTAIN DAVID HARRISON.

Captain David Harrison commanded a sloop of New York, in North America, called the Peggy. On the 27th of August, 1765, he set sail from that port with a cargo of lumber, pipe staves, bees-wax, fish, and a negro, and arrived safe at Fyal, one of the Azores, or western islands in the Atlantic ocean, belonging to the Portuguese, on the 5th of October following.

Here having cleared his ship, and got a cargo of wine, brandy, and some other commodities; he set sail back for New York on the 24th of the same month, with the negro, who remained unsold, and had fine weather till the 29th, when it began to blow very hard.

The wind increasing, it blew almost one continued storm till the 1st of December, during which time, his sails and shrouds were successively blown away; except one shroud on a side, and his main-sail: as in this situation they could make very little way, and all their provisions were exhausted, except bread, of which a small quantity only was left; they came to an allowance of a quarter of a pound a day, with a quart of water, and a pint of wine for each man.

Their ship was now become very leaky, the waves were swelled into mountains by the storm, and the thunder rolled incessantly over their heads in one dreadful peal, almost without intermission.

In this frightful dilemma, either of sinking with the wreck, or floating in her till they perished with hunger; they fell in with two vessels, one from Jamaica to London, the other from New York to Dublin; but to the unspeakable aggravation of their distress, the weather was so bad, that there could be no communication between ship and ship; they saw therefore the vessels that would willingly have relieved them, gradually disappear with sensations that were probably more bitter than death itself.

It was now thought necessary that the allowance of bread and water to each man, however scanty, should be farther contracted: all consented to a reduction, which all saw the necessity of, and the allowance was lessened by degrees till every morsel of food was exhausted; and only about two gallons of dirty water remained in the bottom of a cask.

The poor fellows, who while they had any sustenance, continued obedient to the captain, were now driven by desperation to excess; they seized upon the cargo, and because wine and brandy were all they had left, they drank of both till the frenzy of hunger was increased by drunkenness, and exclamations of distress were blended with curses and blasphemy.

The dregs of the water-cask were abandoned to the captain; who, abstaining as much as possible from wine, husbanded them with the greatest economy.

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