When Doctor Hamey (one of the physicians college in London) being a young man, went to travel towards Padoa, he went to Dover (with several others) and shewed his pass, as the rest did, to the Governor there. The Governor told him, that he must not go, but must keep him prisoner. The Doctor desired to know for what reason ? how he had transgrest ? well it was his will to have it so. The pacquet-boat hoisted sail in the evening (which was very clear), and the Doctor's companions in it. There ensued a terrible storm, and the pacquet-boat and all the passengers were drowned: the next day the sad news was brought to Dover. The Doctor was unknown to the Governor, both by name and face; but the night before, the Governor had the perfect vision in a dream, of Doctor Hamey, who carne to pass over to Calais; and that he had a warning to stop him. This the Governor told the Doctor the next day. The Doctor was a pious, good man, and has several times related this story to some of my acquaintance. My Lady Seymour dreamt, that she found a nest, with nine finches in it. And so many children she had by the Earl of Winchelsea, whose name is Finch. The Countess of Cork (now Burlington) being at Dublin, dreamt, that her father, (the Earl of Cumberland) who was then at York, was dead. He died at that time. 'Tis certain, that several had monitory dreams of the conflagration of London. Sir Christopher Wren, being at his father's house, anno 1651, at Knahill in Wilts (a young Oxford scholar) dreamt, that he saw a fight in a great market-place, which he knew not; where some were flying, and others pursuing; and among those that fled, he saw a kinsman of his, who went into Scotland to the King's army. They heard in the country, that the King was come into England, but whereabouts he was they could not tell. The next night his kinsman came to his father at Knahill, and was the first that brought the news of the fight at Worcester. When Sir Christopher Wren was at Paris, about 1671, he was ill and feverish, made but little water, and had a pain in his reins. He sent for a physician, who advised him to be let blood, thinking he had a plurisy: but bleeding much disagreeing with his constitution, he would defer it a day longer: that night he dreamt, that he was in a place where palm-trees grew, (suppose AEgypt) and that a woman in a romantic habit, reached him dates. The next day he sent for dates, which cured him of the pain of his reins. Since, I have learned that dates are an admirable medicine for the stone, from old Captain Tooke of K--. Take six or ten date-stones, dry them in an oven, pulverize and searce them; take as much as will lie on a six-pence, in a quarter of a pint of white wine fasting, and at four in the afternoon: walk or ride an hour after: in a week's time it will give ease, and in a month cure. If you are at the Bath, the Bath water is better than white wine to take it in.