The warlike Tullus was succeeded by the pacific Numa. Kerrick, the sergeant, was succeeded by Nicholas, the clerk. The six months during which the progeny of Mars had held the reins of government, had unsettled everything; the six weeks which saw Nicholas in his stead set everything in its place again. In the course of a few days it was discovered that drab was a better colour than red, and that an oyster-knife was a prettier weapon than a bayonet. In this short reign the magnates of the place imbibed a strong taste for literature and the arts. The blunderbuss was exchanged for the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” and one of the pistols for the “Whole Duty of Man.” Nicholas himself was a man of considerable acquirements; he was the best reader in the place next to the Vicar, and by dint of much scraping and perseverance he had managed to fill two shelves with a heterogeneous confusion of ancient and modern lore. There was an odd volume of the “History of England,” sundry ditto of sermons, an account of “Anson’s Voyage Round the World,” and “The righte Pathe toe Welle-Doinge,” by Geoffry Mixon. There was also a sage treatise on Ghosts, Spectres, Apparitions, &c., which instigated me to various acts of atrocity, to which I shall presently allude. Nicholas had presided over the conclave for four months in uninterrupted tranquillity, when an incident occurred which put the firmness of his character to the test. The Parliament had just finished their second jug one evening, and were beginning to think of an adjournment, when a low rumbling noise, like the echo of distant thunder, was heard, and in a moment afterwards the door, as it were spontaneously, flew open, and a spectre flew in. It is needless for me to describe the spectre: it was, _selon règle_, above the common height, with pale cheeks, hollow voice, and staring eyes. It advanced to the dictator’s chair, and moaned, in an audible murmur, “I am thine evil genius, Nicholas! Thou shalt see me at church on Sunday.” And then it immediately vanished, nobody knew how or where. Well indeed it might, for few of the company were qualified to play the spy on its motions. The clerk, however, is said to have kept his seat with great firmness; and all avowed that they had followed his example. Howbeit, unless my memory fails me, there was a whisper that the saddler contrived to be looking under the table for a sixpence, and the exciseman’s sooty appearance told dirty tales of the chimney. The clerk was much importuned not to hazard himself in the church upon the fated Sabbath; but upon this point he was obstinate: it was finally agreed to conceal the matter, and in the event of the apparition’s reappearance to set the minister at him.