CHAPTER VI.

GLIMPSES OF THE SUPERNATURAL.

The Other World;

OR, GLIMPSES OF THE SUPERNATURAL.

BEING FACTS, RECORDS, AND TRADITIONS

RELATING TO DREAMS, OMENS, MIRACULOUS OCCURRENCES,

APPARITIONS, WRAITHS, WARNINGS, SECOND-SIGHT,

WITCHCRAFT, NECROMANCY, ETC.

EDITED BY

THE REV. FREDERICK GEORGE LEE, D.C.L.

_Vicar of All Saints', Lambeth._

IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II.

HENRY S. KING AND CO., LONDON.

1875.

(_All rights reserved._)

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

Page

CHAPTER VI.

Spectral Appearances of Persons at the

Point of Death and Perturbed Spirits 1

CHAPTER VII.

Haunted Houses and Localities 79

CHAPTER VIII.

Modern Spiritualism 133

CHAPTER IX.

Modern Spiritualism (_continued_) 167

CHAPTER X.

Summary and Conclusion 205

GENERAL INDEX 243

SPECTRAL APPEARANCES.

"Now a thing was secretly brought to me, and mine ear received a little

thereof.

In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men,

Fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake.

Then a Spirit passed before my face; the hair of my flesh stood up:

It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an Image was

before mine eyes."--_Job iv. 12-16._

CHAPTER VI.

SPECTRAL APPEARANCES.

Examples of Spectral Appearances are so numerous, and the Editor has

collected so many, both ancient and modern, that considerable difficulty

has been occasioned in determining which shall here be set forth. The

following, chosen from examples, some well known and well authenticated,

and others now first published, but equally interesting and important, and

coming to the Editor upon very high authority, deserve the best

consideration of the reader.

The following record describes what is known as the "Chester-le-Street"

Apparition:--

"About the year of Our Lord 1632 (as near as I can remember, having lost

my notes and the copy of the letter to Serjeant Hutton, but I am sure that

I do most perfectly remember the substance of the story), near unto

Chester-in-the-Street, there lived one Walker, a yeoman of good estate,

and a widower, who had a young woman to his kinswoman, that kept his

house, who was by the neighbours suspected to be with child, and was,

towards the dark of the evening one night, sent away with one Mark Sharp,

who was a collier, one who digged coals under ground, and one that had

been born at Blackburn hundred in Lancashire; and so she was not heard of

a long time, and no noise, or little, was made about it. In the winter

time after, one James Graham, or Grime, for so in that country they call

them, being a miller, and living about two miles from the place where

Walker lived, was one night alone very late in the mill grinding corn; and

about twelve or one of the clock at night, he came down the stairs from

having been putting corn in the hopper; the mill doors being shut, there

stood a woman upon the midst of the floor, with her hair about her head,

hanging down and all bloody, with five large wounds on her head. He being

much affrighted and amazed began to bless himself;[1] and at last asked

her who she was, and what she wanted. To which she said, 'I am the spirit

of such a woman who lived with Walker, and being got with child by him,

he promised to send me to a private place, where I should be well-looked

to, till I was brought to bed, and well again; and then I should come

again and keep his house. And, accordingly,' said the apparition, 'I was

one night sent away with one Mark Sharp, who, upon a moor (naming a place

that the miller knew) slew me with a pick, such as men dig coals withal

and gave me these five wounds, and after threw my body into a coal-pit

hard by, and hid the pick under a bank; and his shoes and stockings being

bloody, he endeavoured to wash them; but seeing the blood would not forth,

he hid them there.' And the apparition further told the miller that he

must be the man to reveal it, or else that she must still appear and haunt

him. The miller returned home very sad and heavy, but spoke not one word

of what he had seen, but eschewed as much as he could to stay in the mill

within night without company, thinking thereby to escape the seeing again

of that frightful apparition. But notwithstanding, one night when it began

to be dark, the apparition met him again and seemed very fierce and cruel,

and threatened him that if he did not reveal the murder she would

continually pursue and haunt him; yet, for all this, he still concealed it

until S. Thomas' Eve before Christmas; when being soon after sunset

walking in his garden, she appeared again, and then so threatened him, and

affrighted him, that he promised faithfully to reveal it next morning. In

the morning he went to a magistrate, and made the whole matter known with

all the circumstances; and diligent search being made, the body was found

in a coal-pit, with five wounds in the head, and the pick and shoes and

stockings yet bloody; in every circumstance as the apparition had related

unto the miller; whereupon Walker and Mark Sharp were both apprehended,

but would confess nothing. At the assizes following, I think it was at

Durham, they were arraigned, found guilty, condemned and executed; but I

could never hear they confessed the fact. There were some that reported

the apparition did appear unto the judge, or the foreman of the jury, who

was alive in Chester-in-the-Street about ten years ago, as I have been

credibly informed, but of that I know no certainty. There are many persons

yet alive that can remember this strange murder, and the discovery of it;

for it was, and sometimes yet is, as much discoursed of in the north

country, as anything that almost hath ever been heard of, and the relation

printed, though now not to be gotten. I relate this with the greater

confidence (though I may fail in some of the circumstances) because I saw

and read the letter that was sent to Serjeant Hutton, who then lived at

Goldsburgh in Yorkshire, from the judge before whom Walker and Mark Sharp

were tried, and by whom they were condemned, and had a copy of it until

about the year 1658, when I had it and many other books and papers taken

from me; and this I confess to be one of the most convincing stories,

being of undoubted verity, that ever I read, heard, or knew of, and

carrieth with it the most evident force to make the most incredulous

spirit to be satisfied that there are really, sometimes, such things as

apparitions.--William Lumley."[2]

The above account, in which the object of the Spectral Appearance is

obvious enough, is taken from the well-known "History of Durham," by that

celebrated antiquarian the late Mr. Robert Surtees. It needs no comment,

telling as it does so well, in quaint but plain language, its own

remarkable story.

The next example to be recorded, the Apparition of the Rev. Mr. Naylor,

may be found in Mr. John Nichols' "Literary Illustrations,"[3] and, though

less startling than that already given, is certainly not without its own

inherent interest:--

"Part of a Letter from Mr. Edward Walter, Fellow of S. John's College,

Cambridge, to his friend in the country, dated 'Dec. 6, 1706.'

"'I should scarce have mentioned anything of the matter you write

about of my own accord; but, since you have given yourself the trouble

of an inquiry, I am, I think, obliged in friendship to relate all that

I know of the matter; and that I do the more willingly, because I can

so soon produce my authority.

"'Mr. Shaw, to whom the apparition appeared, was Rector of Soldern, or

Souldern, in Oxfordshire, late of S. John's College aforesaid; on whom

Mr. Grove, his old Fellow Collegiate, called July last in his journey

to the West, where he stayed a day or two, and promised to see him

again on his return, which he did, and stayed three days with him; in

that time one night after supper, Mr. Shaw told him that there

happened a passage which he could not conceal from him, as being an

intimate friend, and one to whom this transaction might have something

more relation than another man. He proceeded therefore, and told him

that about a week before that time, viz. July the 28th, 1706, as he

was smoking and reading in his study about eleven or twelve at night,

there came to him the apparition of Mr. Naylor, formerly Fellow of the

said College, and dead some years ago, a friend of Mr. Shaw's, in the

same garb he used to be in, with his hands clasped before him. Mr.

Shaw, not being much surprised, asked him how he did and desired him

to sit down, which Mr. Naylor did. They both sat there a considerable

time and entertained one another with various discourses. Mr. Shaw

then asked him after what manner they lived in the separate state; he

answered, Far different from what they do here, but that he was very

well. He inquired further, whether there was any of their old

acquaintance in that place where he was? he answered, 'No, not one;'

and then proceeded and told him that one of their old friends, naming

Mr. Orchard, should die quickly, and he himself should not be long

after. There was mention of several people's names; but who they were,

or upon what occasion, Mr. Grove cannot or will not tell. Mr. Shaw

then asked him whether he would not visit him again before that time;

he answered, No, he could not; he had but three days allowed him, and

farther he could not go. Mr. Shaw said, "_Fiat voluntas Domini_;" and

the apparition left him. This is word for word as Mr. Shaw told Mr.

Grove, and Mr. Grove told me.

"'_Note._--What surprised Mr. Grove was, that as he had in his journey

homewards occasion to ride through Clopton, or Claxton, he called upon

one Mr. Clark, Fellow of our College aforesaid and curate there, when

inquiring after College news, Mr. Clark told him Arthur Orchard[4]

died that week, Aug. 7, 1706, which very much shocked Mr. Grove, and

brought to his mind the story of Mr. Shaw afresh. About three weeks

ago Mr. Shaw died of apoplexy in the desk, [_i. e._ when ministering

in church,] of the same distemper poor Arthur Orchard died of.

"'_Note._--Since this strange completion of matters, Mr. Grove has

told this relation, and stands to the truth of it; and that which

confirms the narrative is, that he told the same to Dr. Baldiston, the

present Vice-Chancellor and Master of Emanuel College, above a week

before Mr. Shaw's death; and when he came to the College he was no way

surprised as others were.

"'What farthers my belief of its being a true vision and not a dream,

is Mr. Grove's incredulity of stories of this nature. Considering them

both as men of learning and integrity, the one would not first have

declared, nor the other have spread the same, were not the matter

serious and real.

"'Edward Walter.'"

The following example of an Apparition in Scotland, unlike those already

recorded, carries with it evidences of truth:--

"A gentleman of rank and property in Scotland served in his youth in the

army of the Duke of York in Flanders. He occupied the same tent with two

other officers, one of whom was sent on some service. One night during his

absence, this gentleman while in bed saw the figure of his absent friend

sitting on the vacant bed. He called to his companion, who also saw the

figure, which spoke to them, and said he had just been killed at a certain

place, pointing to his wound. He then requested them on returning to

England, to call at a certain agent's house in a certain street, and to

procure from him a document of great importance for the family of the

deceased. If the agent, as was probable, should deny the possession of

it, it would be found in a certain drawer of a cabinet in his room. Next

day it appeared that the officer had been shot as he had told them, in the

manner and at the time and place indicated. After the return of the troops

to England, the two friends walking together one day, found themselves in

the street where the agent lived, and the request of their friend recurred

to both, they having hitherto forgotten it. They called on the agent, who

denied having the paper in question; when they compelled him in their

presence to open the drawer of the cabinet, where it was found and

restored to the widow."[5]

An authentic record of the "Tyrone," or "Beresford Apparition," will now

be given. It created a very great sensation at the time of its occurrence;

and the narrative which follows has been pronounced traditionally "true

and accurate" by a member of the family:--

"Lord Tyrone and Miss ---- were born in Ireland, and were left orphans in

their infancy to the care of the same person, by whom they were both

educated in the principles of deism. Their guardian dying when they were

each of them about fourteen years of age, they fell into very different

hands.

"The persons on whom the care of them now devolved, used every means to

eradicate the erroneous principles they had imbibed, and to persuade them

to embrace revealed religion, but in vain. Their arguments were strong

enough to stagger their former faith. Though separated from each other,

their friendship was unalterable, and they continued to regard each other

with a sincere and fraternal affection.

"After some years were elapsed, and both were grown up, they made a solemn

promise to each other that whichever should die first, would, if

permitted, appear to the other, to declare what religion was most approved

by the Supreme Being.

"Miss ---- was shortly after addressed by Sir Martin Beresford, to whom

she was after a few years married, but a change of condition had no power

to alter their friendship. The families visited each other, and often

spent some weeks together. A short time after one of these visits, Sir

Martin remarked, that when his lady came down to breakfast, her

countenance was disturbed, and inquired after her health. She assured him

she was quite well. He then asked her if she had hurt her wrist: 'Have you

sprained it?' said he, observing a black ribbon round it. She answered in

the negative, and added, 'Let me conjure you, Sir Martin, never to inquire

the cause of my wearing this ribbon; you will never see me without it. If

it concerned you as a husband to know, I would not for a moment conceal

it: I never in my life denied you a request, but of this I entreat you to

forgive me the refusal, and never to urge me further on the subject.'

'Very well,' said he, smiling; 'since you beg me so earnestly, I will

inquire no more.'

"The conversation here ended; but breakfast was scarcely over when Lady

Beresford eagerly inquired if the post was come in; she was told it was

not. In a few minutes she rang again and repeated the inquiry. She was

again answered as at first. 'Do you expect letters?' said Sir Martin,

'that you are so anxious for the arrival of the post?' 'I do,' she

answered, 'I expect to hear that Lord Tyrone is dead; he died last Tuesday

at four o'clock.' 'I never in my life,' said Sir Martin, 'believed you

superstitious; some idle dream has surely thus alarmed you.' At that

instant the servant entered and delivered to them a letter sealed with

black. 'It is as I expected,' exclaimed Lady Beresford, 'Lord Tyrone is

dead.' Sir Martin opened the letter; it came from Lord Tyrone's steward,

and contained the melancholy intelligence of his master's death, and on

the very day and hour Lady Beresford had before specified. Sir Martin

begged Lady Beresford to compose herself, and she assured him she felt

much easier than she had done for a long time; and added, 'I can

communicate intelligence to you which I know will prove welcome; I can

assure you, beyond the possibility of a doubt, that I shall in some months

present you with a son.' Sir Martin received this news with the greatest

joy.

"After some months Lady Beresford was delivered of a son (she had before

been the mother of only two daughters). Sir Martin survived the birth of

his son little more than four years.

"After his decease his widow seldom left home; she visited no family but

that of a clergyman who resided in the same village; with them she

frequently passed a few hours; the rest of her time was spent in solitude,

and she appeared determined for ever to banish all other society. The

clergyman's family consisted of himself, his wife, and one son, who at the

time of Sir Martin's death was quite a youth; to this son, however, she

was after a few years married, notwithstanding the disparity of years and

the manifest imprudence of a connexion so unequal in every point of view.

"Lady Beresford was treated by her young husband with contempt and

cruelty, while at the same time his conduct evinced him the most abandoned

libertine, utterly destitute of every principle of virtue and humanity. By

this, her second husband, she had two daughters; after which such was the

baseness of his conduct that she insisted on a separation. They parted for

a few years, when so great was the contrition he expressed for his former

conduct, that, won over by his supplications, promises, and entreaties,

she was induced to pardon, and once more to reside with him, and was in

time the mother of a son.

"The day on which she had lain-in a month being the anniversary of her

birthday, she sent for Lady Betty Cobb (of whose friendship she had long

been possessed), and a few other friends, to request them to spend the day

with her. About seven, the clergyman by whom she had been christened, and

with whom she had all her life been intimate, came into the room to

inquire after her health. She told him she was perfectly well, and

requested him to spend the day with them; for, said she, 'This is my

birthday. I am forty-eight to-day.' 'No, madam,' answered the clergyman,

'you are mistaken; your mother and myself have had many disputes

concerning your age, and I have at last discovered that I was right. I

happened to go last week into the parish where you were born; I was

resolved to put an end to the dispute; I searched the register, and find

that you are forty-seven this day.' 'You have signed my death warrant,'

she exclaimed; 'I have then but a few hours to live. I must therefore

entreat you to leave me immediately, as I have something of importance to

settle before I die.'

"When the clergyman had left her, Lady Beresford sent to forbid the

company coming, and at the same time to request Lady Betty Cobb and her

son (of whom Sir Martin was the father, and who was then about twenty-two

years of age), to come to her apartment immediately. Upon their arrival,

having ordered the attendants to quit the room, 'I have something,' she

said, 'of the greatest importance to communicate to you both before I die,

a period which is not far distant. You, Lady Betty, are no stranger to

the friendship which subsisted between Lord Tyrone and myself: we were

educated under the same roof and in the same principles of deism. When the

friends, into whose hands we afterwards fell, endeavoured to persuade us

to embrace Revealed Religion, their arguments, though insufficient to

convince, were powerful to stagger our former feelings, and to leave us

wavering between the two opinions: in this perplexing state of doubt and

uncertainty, we made a solemn promise to each other that whichever died

first should (if permitted) appear to the other, and declare what religion

was most acceptable to God; accordingly, one night, while Sir Martin and

myself were in bed, I suddenly awoke and discovered Lord Tyrone sitting by

my bedside. I screamed out and endeavoured to awake Sir Martin. "For

Heaven's sake," I exclaimed, "Lord Tyrone, by what means or for what

reason came you hither at this time of night?" "Have you then forgotten

our promise?" said he; "I died last Tuesday at four o'clock, and have been

permitted by the Supreme Being to appear to you to assure you that the

Revealed Religion is true, and the only religion by which we can be saved.

I am further suffered to inform you that you will soon produce a son, who

it is decreed will marry my daughter; not many years after his birth Sir

Martin will die, and you will marry again, and to a man by whose

ill-treatment you will be rendered miserable: you will have two daughters

and afterwards a son, in childbirth of whom you will die in the

forty-seventh year of your age." "Just Heavens!" I exclaimed, "and cannot

I prevent this?" "Undoubtedly," returned the spectre; "you are a free

agent, and may prevent it all by resisting every temptation to a second

marriage; but your passions are strong, you know not their power; hitherto

you have had no trials. More I am not permitted to reveal, but if after

this warning you persist in your infidelity, your lot in another world

will be miserable indeed." "May I not ask," said I, "if you are happy?"

"Had I been otherwise," he replied, "I should not have been permitted to

appear to you." "I may, then, infer that you are happy?" He smiled. "But

how," said I, "when morning comes, shall I know that your appearance to me

has been real, and not the mere representation of my own imagination?"

"Will not the news of my death be sufficient to convince you?" "No," I

returned, "I might have had such a dream, and that dream accidentally come

to pass. I will have some stronger proofs of its reality." "You shall,"

said he, and waving his hand, the bed curtains, which were crimson velvet,

were instantly drawn through a large iron hoop by which the tester of the

bed was suspended. "In that," said he, "you cannot be mistaken; no mortal

arm could have performed this." "True," said I, "but sleeping we are often

possessed of far more strength than when awake; though waking I could not

have done it, asleep I might; and I shall still doubt." "Here is a

pocket-book; in this," said he, "I will write my name; you know my

handwriting." I replied, "Yes." He wrote with a pencil on one side of the

leaves. "Still," said I, "in the morning I may doubt; though waking I

could not imitate your hand, asleep I might." "You are hard of belief,"

said he. "Touch would injure you irreparably; it is not for spirits to

touch mortal flesh." "I do not," said I, "regard a slight blemish." "You

are a woman of courage," said he, "hold out your hand." _I did; he struck

my wrist: his hand was cold as marble; in a moment the sinews shrunk up,

every nerve withered._ "Now," said he, "while you live let no mortal eye

behold that wrist: to see it is sacrilege." He stopped; I turned to him

again; he was gone.

"'During the time I had conversed with him my thoughts were perfectly calm

and collected; but the moment he was gone I felt chilled with horror, the

very bed moved under me. I endeavoured, but in vain, to awake Sir Martin;

all my attempts were ineffectual, and in this state of agitation and

terror I lay for some time, when a shower of tears came to my relief and I

fell asleep.

"'In the morning Sir Martin arose and dressed himself as usual, without

perceiving the state the curtains remained in. When I awoke I found Sir

Martin gone down; I arose, and having put on my clothes, went to the

gallery adjoining the apartment and took from thence a long broom (such as

cornices are swept with); by the help of this I took down with some

difficulty the curtains, as I imagined their extraordinary position might

excite suspicion in the family. I then went to the bureau, took up my

pocket-book, and bound a piece of black ribbon round my wrist. When I came

down, the agitation of my mind had left an impression on my countenance

too visible to pass unobserved by my husband. He instantly remarked it,

and asked the cause; I informed him Lord Tyrone was no more, that he died

at the hour of four on the preceding Tuesday, and desired him never to

question me more respecting the black ribbon, which he kindly desisted

from after. You, my son, as had been foretold, I afterwards brought into

the world, and in little more than four years after your birth your

lamented father expired in my arms. After this melancholy event I

determined, as the only probable chance to avoid the sequel of the

prediction, for ever to abandon all society, to give up every pleasure

resulting from it, and to pass the rest of my days in solitude and

retirement. But few can long endure to exist in a state of perfect

sequestration: I began an intimacy with a family, and one alone; nor could

I foresee the fatal consequences which afterwards resulted from it. Little

did I think their son, their only son, then a mere youth, would form the

person destined by fate to prove my destruction. In a very few years I

ceased to regard him with indifference; I endeavoured by every possible

way to conquer a passion, the fatal effects of which I too well knew. I

had fondly imagined I had overcome its influence, when the evening of one

fatal day terminated my fortitude and plunged me in a moment down that

abyss I had so long been meditating how to shun. He had often solicited

his parents for leave to go into the army, and at last obtained

permission, and came to bid me adieu before his departure. The instant he

entered the room he fell upon his knees at my feet, told me he was

miserable, and that I alone was the cause. At that moment my fortitude

forsook me, I gave myself up as lost, and regarding my fate as inevitable,

without further hesitation consented to a union, the immediate result of

which I knew to be misery, and its end death. The conduct of my husband

after a few years amply justified a separation, and I hoped by these means

to avoid the fatal sequel of the prophecy: but won over by his reiterated

entreaties, I was prevailed upon to pardon and once more reside with him,

though not till after I had, as I thought, passed my forty-seventh year.

"'But alas! I have this day heard from indisputable authority that I have

hitherto lain under a mistake with regard to my age, and that I am but

forty-seven to-day. Of the near approach of my death then I entertain not

the slightest doubt; but I do not dread its arrival; armed with the sacred

precepts of Christianity I can meet the King of Terrors without dismay,

and without fear bid adieu to mortality for ever.

"'When I am dead, as the necessity for concealment closes with my life, I

could wish that you, Lady Betty, would unbind my wrist, take from thence

the black ribbon, and let my son with yourself behold it.' Lady Beresford

here paused for some time, but resuming the conversation she entreated her

son would behave himself so as to merit the high honour he would in future

receive from a union with the daughter of Lord Tyrone.

"Lady B. then expressed a wish to lay down on the bed and endeavour to

compose herself to sleep. Lady Betty Cobb and her son immediately called

her domestics and quitted the room, having first desired them to watch

their mistress attentively, and if they observed the smallest change in

her, to call instantly.

"An hour passed and all was quiet in the room. They listened at the door

and everything remained still, but in half an hour more a bell rang

violently; they flew to her apartment, but before they reached the door,

they heard the servants exclaim, 'Oh, she is dead!' Lady Betty then bade

the servants for a few minutes to quit the room, and herself with Lady

Beresford's son approached the bed of his mother; they knelt down by the

side of it; Lady Betty lifted up her hand and untied the ribbon,--_the

wrist was found exactly as Lady Beresford had described it, every sinew

shrunk, every nerve withered_.

"Lady Beresford's son, as had been predicted, is since married to Lord

Tyrone's daughter. The black ribbon and pocket-book were formerly in the

possession of Lady Betty Cobb, Marlborough Buildings, Bath, who, during

her long life, was ever ready to attest the truth of this narration, as

are, to the present hour, the whole of the Tyrone and Beresford

families."[6]

Three remarkable examples of Spectral Appearances must now be given,

because of their inherent interest and corresponding likeness. The first

is recorded by Glanville, a learned and pious author already referred to;

the second is the case of Dr. Ferrar, and the third that of the "Wynyard

Ghost Story."

(I.) Glanville tells a story regarding the appearance of a spirit in

fulfilment of a promise made during lifetime, which is full of point and

purpose. It runs thus. The substance, not the exact words, of the

narrative are here given:--In the seventeenth century there lived two

friends, Major George Sydenham of Dulverton in the county of Somerset, and

Captain William Dyke of the same county. They were both reputed to be

unbelievers in the Christian religion, if not avowed atheists. During the

civil wars they had each served under the Parliamentary generals, and took

an active part on the side of the rebels.

Having held many discussions both on the subject of religion and

irreligion, they eventually argued out the fact of the immortality of the

soul, which each felt disposed to deny: and finally they agreed between

themselves that whichever of them died first, should (if such a

possibility existed,) appear on the third day after death to the survivor

in Major Sydenham's summer-house at Dulverton, and enlighten him as to the

existence of a future state of rewards and punishments.

In due course Major Sydenham died; and Captain Dyke, in company with a

cousin of his own, a celebrated physician, who was attending a sick child

at Major Sydenham's house, but who knew nothing of the matter in hand,

arrived there. Captain Dyke and his relative Dr. Dyke, the physician,

occupied the same bedroom. The latter was surprised to hear the captain

ask of the servant for two of the largest candles that could be obtained,

and sought an explanation. The captain then informed him of his promise to

Major Sydenham, and of his own determined resolution to fulfil it. Dr.

Dyke urged with considerable force that as there was no warrant for making

such engagements, they were to be regarded as unquestionably wrong; and

pointed out, firstly, that evil spirits might take advantage of the

situation, and secondly, that such a tempting of the Almighty was

altogether wrong.

"This may be all very true," responded Captain Dyke, "but as I faithfully

promised to go, go I will. If you will come and sit up with me, well and

good: and I shall be grateful. But if not, I shall certainly go alone."

Then, placing his watch on the table, he waited until half-past eleven;

when taking up the candles, he walked up and down in close proximity to

the entrance of the summer-house, until two o'clock, without either seeing

or hearing anything extraordinary.

Upon this he formed two conclusions; either that the soul perished with

the body, or that the laws of the spiritual world forbade his friend Major

Sydenham abiding by his pledge.

Six weeks afterwards, however, Captain Dyke and his relation the physician

had occasion to go to Eton, where one of the sons of the former was to be

placed at the college. They lodged at the S. Christopher's Inn, occupying

different sleeping-rooms. On the last morning of their stay, Captain Dyke

was unusually late, and when he entered the doctor's room was like a man

struck with madness, his eyes staring, his knees refusing to support him,

and his whole appearance altered.

"What is the matter?" asked Dr. Dyke.

"I have seen the major," replied the captain; "for if ever I saw him in my

life, I certainly saw him just now."

Upon the doctor pressing for details, Captain Dyke gave the following

account:--"After it was first light this morning, someone pulled back the

curtains of my bed suddenly, and I saw the major exactly as I had seen him

in life. 'I could not,' he said, 'come at the time appointed, but I am

here now to tell you that there is a God, a very just and terrible God,

and that if you do not turn over a new leaf you will find it so.' He then

disappeared."

It is said, finally, that Captain Dyke's truthfulness was so notorious, as

to preclude the possibility of doubting his relation of the occurrence.

Furthermore, the apparition and warnings of his departed friend exercised

a visible effect on his character and life, which latter was prolonged for

two years; during which period he is said to have had the words then

spoken to him always sounding in his ears.

(II.) The celebrated Nicholas Ferrar, of Little Gidding, (who, in the

seventeenth century, lived a most retired, religious, and pious life,) had

a brother, a physician in London. This physician made a compact with his

eldest and favourite daughter that whichever of them died first should, if

happy, appear to the other. This compact is said to have proved the

subject of many conversations and religious discussions between father and

child. The latter is reported to have been very averse to making any such

agreement; but being overcome by arguments as to the reasonableness of

such a course (if permitted by a gracious and merciful God) at last

consented. After this she married and settled with her husband at

Gillingham Lodge, in the county of Wiltshire. Here she was prematurely

confined; and during her illness, one night by mistake took poison, and

died quite suddenly. That very night her spirit appeared to her father in

London, the curtains of whose bed she drew back, and with a sweet but

mournful expression looked upon him, and then gradually faded away. In

fact, and as a test of the objective reality of his daughter's apparition,

Dr. Ferrar, deeply impressed by the occurrence, announced the death of his

daughter to his family two days before he received intelligence of it by

the then tardy post.

(III.) John Cope Sherbroke and George Wynyard appear in the "Army List" of

1785, the one as a captain and the other lieutenant in the 33rd

Regiment,--a corps which some years after had the honour to be commanded

by the Hon. Arthur Wellesley, subsequently Duke of Wellington. The

regiment was then on service in Canada, and Sherbroke and Wynyard, being

of congenial tastes, had become great friends. It was their custom to

spend in study much of the time which their brother officers devoted to

idle pleasures. According to a narration[7] resting on the best authority

now attainable, they were one afternoon sitting in Wynyard's apartment.

It was perfectly light, the hour was about four o'clock: they had dined,

but neither of them had drunk wine, and they had retired from their mess

to continue together the occupations of the morning. It ought to have been

said that the apartment in which they were had two doors in it, the one

opening into a passage and the other leading into Wynyard's bedroom. There

was no other means of entering the sitting-room, so that any person

passing into the bedroom must have remained there unless he returned by

the way he entered. This point is of consequence to the story.

"As these two young officers were pursuing their studies, Sherbroke, whose

eyes happened accidentally to glance from the book before him towards the

door which opened to the passage, all at once observed a tall youth of

about twenty years of age whose appearance was that of extreme emaciation.

Struck with the presence of a perfect stranger, he immediately turned to

his friend, who was sitting near him, and directed his attention to the

guest who had thus strangely broken in upon their studies. As soon as

Wynyard's eyes were turned towards the mysterious visitor his countenance

became suddenly agitated. 'I have heard,' says Sir John Sherbroke, 'of a

man's being as pale as death, but I never saw a living face assume the

appearance of a corpse except Wynyard's at that moment.' As they looked

silently at the form before them--for Wynyard, who seemed to apprehend

the import of the appearance, was deprived of the faculty of speech, and

Sherbroke, perceiving the agitation of his friend, felt no inclination to

address it--as they looked silently upon the figure it proceeded slowly

into the adjoining apartment, and in the act of passing them cast its eyes

with an expression of somewhat melancholy affection on young Wynyard. The

oppression of this extraordinary presence was no sooner removed than

Wynyard, seizing his friend by the arm, and drawing a deep breath as if

recovering from the suffocation of intense astonishment and emotion,

muttered in a low and almost inaudible tone of voice, 'Great God, my

brother!' 'Your brother!' repeated Sherbroke, 'what can you mean? Wynyard,

there must be some deception; follow me;' and immediately taking his

friend by the arm, he preceded him into the bedroom, which, as before

stated, was connected with the sitting-room, and into which the strange

visitor had evidently entered. It has already been said that from this

chamber there was no possibility of withdrawing but by the way of the

apartment, through which the figure had certainly never returned. Imagine

then the astonishment of the young officers when, on finding themselves in

the chamber, they perceived that the room was perfectly untenanted.

Wynyard's mind had received an impression at the first moment of his

observing him, that the figure whom he had seen was the spirit of his

brother. Sherbroke still persevered in strenuously believing that some

delusion had been practised. They took note of the day and hour in which

the event had happened, but they resolved not to mention the occurrence in

the regiment, and gradually they persuaded each other that they had been

imposed upon by some artifice of their fellow-officers, though they could

neither account for the means of its execution. They were content to

imagine anything possible rather than admit the possibility of a

supernatural appearance. But though they had attempted these stratagems of

self-delusion, Wynyard could not help expressing his solicitude with

respect to the safety of the brother whose apparition he had either seen

or imagined himself to have seen; and the anxiety which he exhibited for

letters from England, and his frequent mention of his brother's health, at

length awakened the curiosity of his comrades, and eventually betrayed him

into a declaration of the circumstances which he had in vain determined to

conceal. The story of the silent and unbidden visitor was no sooner

bruited abroad than the arrival of Wynyard's letters from England were

welcomed with more than usual eagerness, for they promised to afford the

clue to the mystery which had happened among themselves.

"By the first ships no intelligence relating to the story could have been

received, for they had all departed from England previously to the

appearance of the spirit. At length, the long wished-for vessel arrived;

all the officers had letters except Wynyard. They examined the several

newspapers, but they contained no mention of any death or of any other

circumstance connected with his family that could account for the

preternatural event. There was a solitary letter for Sherbroke still

unopened. The officers had received their letters in the mess-room at the

hour of supper. After Sherbroke had broken the seal of his last packet,

and cast a glance on its contents, he beckoned his friend away from the

company, and departed from the room. All were silent. The suspense of the

interest was now at its climax; the impatience for the return of Sherbroke

was inexpressible. They doubted not but that letter had contained the

long-expected intelligence.

"After the interval of an hour, Sherbroke joined them. No one dared

inquire the nature of his correspondence; but they waited in mute

attention, expecting that he would himself touch upon the subject. His

mind was manifestly full of thoughts that pained, bewildered, and

oppressed him. He drew near to the fire-place, and leaning his head on the

mantlepiece, after a pause of some moments, said in a low voice to the

person who was nearest him, Wynyard's brother was dead. 'Dear John, break

to your friend Wynyard the death of his favourite brother.' _He had died

on the day and at the very hour on which the friends had seen his spirit

pass so mysteriously through the apartment._

"It might have been imagined that these events would have been sufficient

to have impressed the mind of Sherbroke with the conviction of their

truth, but so strong was his prepossession against the existence or even

the possibility of any preternatural intercourse with the spirits of the

departed, that he still entertained a doubt of the report of his senses,

supported as their testimony was by the coincidence of sight and event.

Some years after, on his return to England, he was with two gentlemen in

Piccadilly, when on the opposite side of the street he saw a person

bearing the most striking resemblance to the figure which had been

disclosed to Wynyard and himself. His companions were acquainted with the

story, and he instantly directed their attention to the gentleman

opposite, as the individual who had contrived to enter and depart from

Wynyard's apartment without their being conscious of the means.

"Full of this impression, he immediately went over and addressed the

gentleman. He now fully expected to elucidate the mystery. He apologized

for the interruption, but excused it by relating the occurrence which had

induced him to the commission of this solecism in manners. The gentleman

received him as a friend. He had never been out of the country, but he was

the twin brother of the youth whose spirit had been seen.

"From the interesting character of this narration--the facts of the vision

occurring in daylight, and to two persons; and of the subsequent

verification of likeness by the party not previously acquainted with the

subject of the vision, it is much to be regretted that no direct report of

particulars had come to us. There is all other desirable authentication

for the story, and sufficient evidence to prove that the two gentlemen

believed and often told nearly what is here reported.

"Dr. Mayo makes the following statement on the subject: 'I have had

opportunities of inquiring of two near relations of this General Wynyard,

upon what evidence the above story rests. They told me that they had each

heard it from his own mouth. More recently a gentleman, whose accuracy of

recollection exceeds that of most people, had told me that he had heard

the late Sir John Sherbroke, the other party in the ghost story, tell it

in much the same way at the dinner-table. A writer in 'Notes and Queries'

for July 3, 1858, states that the brother, not twin-brother, whose spirit

appeared to Wynyard and his friend, was John Otway Wynyard, Lieutenant in

the 3rd Regiment of Foot-guards, who died on the 15th of October, 1785. As

this gentleman writes with a minute knowledge of the family history, this

date may be considered as that of the alleged spiritual incident.

"In 'Notes and Queries' for July 2nd, 1859, appeared a correspondence,

giving the strongest testimony then attainable to the truth of the

Wynyard ghost story. A series of queries on the subject being drawn up at

Quebec, by Sir John Harvey, Adjutant-General of the forces in Canada, was

sent to Colonel Gore of the same garrison, who was understood to be a

survivor of the officers who were with Sherbroke and Wynyard at the time

of the occurrence, and Colonel Gore explicitly replied to the following

effect: He was present at Sydney, in the island of Cape Breton, in the

autumn of 1785 or 1786, when the incident happened. It was in the then new

barrack, and the place was blocked up by ice so as to have no

communication with any part of the world. He was one of the first persons

who entered the room after the apparition was seen. The ghost passed them

as they were sitting at coffee, between eight and nine in the evening, and

went into G. Wynyard's bed closet, the window of which was putt[i]ed down.

He next day suggested to Sherbroke the propriety of making a memorandum of

the incident, which was done. 'I remember the date, and on the 6th of June

our first letters from England brought the news of John Wynyard's death,

[which had happened] on the very night they saw his apparition.' Colonel

Gore was under the impression that the person afterwards seen in one of

the streets of London, by Sherbroke and William Wynyard, was not a brother

of the latter family, but a gentleman named (he thought) Hayman, noted for

being like the deceased John Wynyard, and who affected to dress like

him."

So much for these records and testimonies. The following, now to be

narrated, not altogether unlike them, and producing a good result on the

person who witnessed the apparition, is of almost equal interest:--

"Lord Chedworth[8] had living with him the orphan daughter of a sister of

his, a Miss Wright, who often related this circumstance: Lord Chedworth

was a good man, and seemed anxious to do his duty, but, unfortunately, he

had considerable intellectual doubts as to the existence of the soul in

another world. He had a great friendship for a gentleman, whom he had

known from his boyhood, and who was, like himself, one of those

unbelieving mortals that must have ocular demonstration for everything.

They often met, and often, too, renewed the subject so interesting to

both; but neither could help the other to that happy conviction which was

honestly wished for by each.

"One morning Miss Wright observed on her uncle joining her at breakfast, a

considerable gloom of thought and trouble displayed on his countenance.

He ate little, and was unusually silent. At last, he said, 'Molly' (for

thus he familiarly called her), 'I had a strange visitor last night. My

old friend B---- came to me.'

"'How?' said Miss Wright, 'did he come after I went to bed?'

"'His spirit did,' said Lord Chedworth, solemnly.

"'Oh! my dear uncle, how could the spirit of a living man appear?' said

she, smiling.

"'He is dead, beyond doubt,' replied his lordship; 'listen, and then laugh

as much as you please. I had not entered my bedroom many minutes when he

stood before me. Like you, I could not but think that I was looking on the

living man, and so accosted him; but he answered, "Chedworth, I died this

night at eight o'clock; I come to tell you, that there is another world

beyond the grave; and that there is a righteous God Who judgeth all."'

"'Depend upon it, uncle, it was only a dream!' But while Miss Wright was

thus speaking a groom on horseback rode up the avenue, and immediately

after delivered a letter to Lord Chedworth, announcing the sudden death of

his friend. Whatever construction the reader may be disposed to put upon

this narrative, it is not unimportant to add that the effect upon the mind

of Lord Chedworth was as happy as it was permanent. All his doubts were at

once removed, and for ever."

The well-known Lyttelton Ghost Story may now be fitly recorded. It created

a great and widespread interest at the time of its occurrence, and was

criticised and commented upon by many. Several versions of it have already

appeared in print, and they seem to vary in certain unimportant details.

The Editor, instead of writing out what has already appeared, prefers to

set forth at length various documents containing independent evidence of

the truth of the several apparitions, which by the courtesy and kindness

of the present accomplished bearer of the title, he is enabled to embody

_verbatim_ in this volume, having been permitted to transcribe them from

the originals in Lord Lyttelton's possession.

The subject of this narrative was the son of George, Lord Lyttelton, who

was alike distinguished for the raciness of his wit and the profligacy of

his manners. The latter trait of his character has induced many persons to

suppose the apparition which he asserted he had seen, to have been the

effect of a conscience quickened with remorse and misgivings, on account

of many vices. The probability of the narrative[9] has, consequently, been

much questioned; but two gentlemen, one of whom was at Pitt Place, the

seat of Lord Lyttelton, and the other in the immediate neighbourhood, at

the time of his lordship's death, bore ample testimony to the veracity of

the whole affair. The several narratives of the singular occurrence

correspond in material points; and the following are the circumstantial

particulars written by the gentleman who was at the time on a visit to his

lordship:--

"I was at Pitt Place, Epsom, when Lord Lyttelton died; Lord Fortescue,

Mrs. Flood, and the two Miss Amphletts were also present. Lord Lyttelton

had not long been returned from Ireland, and frequently had been seized

with suffocating fits; he was attacked several times by them in the course

of the preceding month, while he was at his house in Hill Street, Berkeley

Square. It happened that he dreamt, three days before his death, that he

saw a fluttering bird, and afterwards a woman appeared to him in white

apparel and said to him, 'Prepare to die, you will not exist three days!'

His lordship was much alarmed, and called to a servant from a closet

adjoining, who found him much agitated and in a profuse perspiration; the

circumstance had a considerable effect all the next day on his lordship's

spirits. On the third day, while his lordship was at breakfast with the

above personages, he said, 'If I live over to-night I shall have jockied

the ghost, for this is the third day.' The whole party presently set off

for Pitt Place, where they had not long arrived before his lordship was

visited by one of his accustomed fits. After a short interval he

recovered. He dined at five o'clock that day, and went to bed at eleven,

when his servant was about to give him rhubarb and mint-water, but his

lordship perceiving him stir it with a toothpick, called him a slovenly

dog, and bade him go and fetch a teaspoon; but on the man's return he

found his Master in a fit, and the pillow being placed high, his chin

bore hard upon his neck, when the servant, instead of relieving his master

on the instant from his perilous situation, ran in his fright and called

out for help, but on his return he found his lordship dead.

"In explanation of this strange tale it is said that Lord Lyttelton

acknowledged, previously to his death, that the woman he had seen in his

dream was the 'mother' of the two Misses Amphletts mentioned above, whom,

together with a third sister then in Ireland, his lordship had seduced and

prevailed on to leave their parent, who resided near his country residence

in Shropshire. It is further stated that Mrs. Amphlett died of grief

through the desertion of her children at the precise time when the female

vision appeared to his lordship. The most surprising part of the story,

because the most difficult of explanation, yet remains to be related. On

the second day Miles Peter Andrews, one of Lord Lyttelton's most intimate

friends, left the dinner-party at an early hour, being called away upon

business to Dartford, where he was the owner of certain powder-mills. He

had all along professed himself one of the most determined sceptics as to

the vision, and therefore ceased to think of it. On the third night,

however, when he had been in bed about half an hour, and still remained,

as he imagined, wide awake, his curtains were suddenly pulled aside, and

Lord Lyttelton appeared before him in his robe-de-chambre and night-cap.

Mr. Andrews gazed at his visitor for some time in silent wonder, and then

began to reproach him for so odd a freak in coming down to Dartford Mills

without any previous notice, as he hardly knew how on the emergency to

find his lordship the requisite accommodation. 'Nevertheless,' said

Andrews, 'I will get up and see what can be done for you.' With this view

he turned aside to ring the bell; but on looking round again he could see

no signs of his strange visitor. Soon afterwards the bell was rung for his

servant, and upon his asking what had become of Lord Lyttelton, the man,

evidently much surprised at the question, replied that he had seen nothing

of him since they had left Pitt Place. 'Psha, you fool,' exclaimed Mr.

Andrews, 'he was here this moment at my bedside.' The servant, more

astonished than ever, declared that he did not well understand how that

could be, since he must have seen him enter; whereupon Mr. Andrews rose,

and having dressed himself, searched the house and grounds, but Lord

Lyttelton was nowhere to be found. Still, he could not help believing that

his friend, who was fond of practical jokes, had played him this trick for

his previously expressed scepticism in the matter of the dream. But he

soon viewed the whole affair in a different light. About four o'clock on

the same day an express arrived from a friend with the news of Lord

Lyttelton's death, and the whole manner of it, as related by the valet to

those who were in the house at the time. In Mr. Andrews's subsequent

visits to Pitt Place, no solicitations could ever induce him to sleep

there; he would invariably return, however late, to the Spread Eagle Inn,

at Epsom, for the night."

REMARKABLE DREAM OF THOMAS, LORD LYTTELTON.[10]

"On Thursday, the 25th of November, 1779, Thomas, Lord Lyttelton,

when he came to breakfast, declared to Mrs. Flood, wife of Frederick

Flood, Esq., of the kingdom of Ireland, and to the three Miss

Amphletts, who were lodged in his house in Hill Street, London (where

he then also was), that he had had an extraordinary dream the night

before. He said he thought he was in a room which a bird flew into,

which appearance was suddenly changed into that of a woman dressed in

white, who bade him prepare to die. To which he answered, 'I hope not

soon, not in two months.' She replied, 'Yes, in three days.' He said

he did not much regard it, because he could in some measure account

for it; for that a few days before he had been with Mrs. Dawson when a

robin-redbreast flew into her room.

"When he had dressed himself that day to go to the House of Lords, he

said he thought he did not look as if he was likely to die. In the

evening of the following day, being Friday, he told the eldest Miss

Amphlett that she looked melancholy; but, said he, 'You are foolish

and fearful. I have lived two days, and, God willing, I will live out

the third.'

"On the morning of Saturday he told the same ladies that he was very

well, and believed he should bilk the ghost. Some hours afterwards he

went with them, Mr. Fortescue, and Captain Wolseley, to Pitt Place, at

Epsom; withdrew to his bed-chamber soon after eleven o'clock at night,

talked cheerfully to his servant, and particularly inquired of him

what care had been taken to provide good rolls for his breakfast the

next morning, stepped into his bed with his waistcoat on, and as his

servant was pulling it off, put his hand to his side, sunk back and

immediately expired without a groan. He ate a good dinner after his

arrival at Pitt Place, took an egg for his supper, and did not seem to

be at all out of order, except that while he was eating his soup at

dinner he had a rising in his throat, a thing which had often happened

to him before, and which obliged him to spit some of it out. His

physician, Dr. Fothergill, told me Lord Lyttelton had in the summer

preceding a bad pain in his side, and he judged that some gut vessel

in the part where he felt the pain gave way, and to that he

conjectured his death was owing. His declaration of his dream and his

expressions above mentioned, consequential thereon, were upon a close

inquiry asserted to me to have been so, by Mrs. Flood, the eldest Miss

Amphlett, Captain Wolseley, and his valet-de-chambre Faulkner,[11] who

dressed him on the Thursday; and the manner of his death was related

to me by William Stuckey, in the presence of Mr. Fortescue and Captain

Wolseley, Stuckey being the servant who attended him in his

bed-chamber, and in whose arms he died.

"Westcote.[12]

"February the 13th, 1780."

Lord Lyttelton is also asserted to have appeared to Mr. Andrews, his

friend and boon companion, at the time of his lordship's sudden and

mysterious death. Of this fact testimony is furnished by Mr. Plumer Ward,

M.P., in his "Illustrations of Human Life," from which (vol. i. p. 165)

the following narrative is taken:--

"I had often heard much and read much of Lord Lyttelton's seeing a ghost

before his death, and of himself as a ghost appearing to Mr. Andrews; and

one evening, sitting near that gentleman, during a pause in the debates in

the House of Commons, I ventured to ask him whether there was any and what

truth in the detailed story so confidently related. Mr. Andrews, as

perhaps I ought to have expected, did not much like the conversation. He

looked grave and uneasy, and I asked pardon for my impertinent curiosity.

Upon this he good-naturedly said, 'It is not a subject I am fond of, and

least of all in such a place as this; but if you will come and dine with

me, I will tell you what is true and what is false.' I gladly accepted the

proposal, and I think my recollection is perfect as to the following

narrative:--'Mr. Andrews in his youth was the boon-companion, not to say

fellow-rake, of Lord Lyttelton, who, as is well known, was a man

distinguished for abilities, but also for a profligacy of morals which few

could equal. With all this he was remarkable for what may be called

unnatural cowardice in one so determinedly wicked. He never repented, yet

could never stifle his conscience. He never could allow, yet never could

deny, a world to come, and he contemplated with unceasing terror what

would probably be his own state in such a world if there was one. He was

always melancholy with fear, or mad in defiance; and probably his

principal misery here was, that with all his endeavours, he never could

extinguish the dread of an hereafter.... Andrews was at his house at

Dartford when Lord Lyttelton died at Pitt Place, Epsom, thirty miles off.

Andrews' house was full of company, and he expected Lord Lyttelton, whom

he had left in his usual state of health, to join them the next day, which

was Sunday. Andrews himself feeling much indisposed on the Saturday

evening, retired early to bed, and requested Mrs. Pigou, one of his

guests, to do the honours of the supper-table. He admitted that, when in

bed, he fell into a feverish sleep, but was waked between eleven and

twelve by somebody opening his curtains. It was Lord Lyttelton in a

night-gown and cap, which Andrews recognized. He also plainly spoke to

him, saying he was come to tell him all was over. The world said he

informed him there was another state, and bade him repent, &c. That was

not so. And I confine myself to the exact words of this relation.

"'Now it seems that Lord Lyttelton was fond of horse-play, or what we

should call _mauvaise plaisanterie_; and, having often made Andrews the

subject of it, the latter had threatened him with manual chastisement

next time it occurred. On the present occasion, thinking this annoyance

renewed, he threw the first thing he could find, which were his slippers,

at Lord Lyttelton's head. The figure retreated towards a dressing-room

which had no ingress or egress except through the bed-chamber, and

Andrews, very angry, leapt out of bed, to follow it into the

dressing-room. It was not there. Surprised, he returned to the bedroom,

which he strictly searched. The door was locked on the inside, yet no Lord

Lyttelton was to be found. He was astonished, but not alarmed, so

convinced was he that it was some trick of Lord Lyttelton, who, he

supposed, had arrived, according to his engagement, but after he, Andrews,

had retired. He therefore rang for his servant, and asked if Lord

Lyttelton was not come. The man said, "No." "You may depend upon it,"

replied he, out of humour, "he is somewhere in the house, for he was here

just now, and is playing some trick." But how he could have got into the

bedroom with the door locked puzzled both master and man. Convinced,

however, that he was somewhere in the house, Andrews, in his anger,

ordered that no bed should be given him, saying he might go to an inn, or

sleep in the stables. Be that as it may, he never appeared again, and

Andrews went to sleep.

"'It happened that Mrs. Pigou was to go to town early the next morning.

What was her astonishment, having heard the disturbance of the night

before, to hear on her arrival about nine o'clock that Lord Lyttelton had

died the very night he was supposed to have been seen. She immediately

sent an express to Dartford with the news; upon the receipt of which,

Andrews, (quite well, and remembering accurately all that had passed,)

swooned away. He could not understand it, but it had a most serious effect

upon him, so that--to use his own expression--he "was not his own man

again for three years."'

"Such is the celebrated story; stript of its ornamentations and

exaggerations; and for one, I own, if not convinced that this was a real

message from Heaven, which certainly I am not, I at least think the hand

of Providence was seen in it; working upon the imagination, if you please,

and therefore suspending no law of Nature (though that after all is an

ambiguous term), but still Providence, in a character not to be mistaken."

The following remarkable occurrence of the Spectral Appearances of two

persons, one recently dead and the other a canonized saint of the Roman

Catholic Church, which occurred about thirty years ago, is now published

for the first time. It is known as "The Weld Ghost Story:"--

"Philip Weld was a younger son of Mr. James Weld of Archer's Lodge, near

Southampton, and a nephew of the late Cardinal Weld, the head of that

ancient family, whose chief seat is Lulworth Castle in Dorsetshire.[13] He

was sent by his father in 1844 to S. Edmund's college, near Ware in

Hertfordshire, for his education. He was a boy of great piety and virtue,

and gave not only satisfaction to the masters of studies, but edification

to all his fellow-students. It happened that on April 16, 1846, a play-day

or whole holiday, the President of the college gave the boys leave to boat

upon the river at Ware.

"In the morning of that day Philip Weld had been to the Holy Communion at

the early celebration of Mass, having just finished his retreat. In the

afternoon of the same day he went with his companions and some of the

masters to boat on the river as arranged. This sport he enjoyed very much.

When one of the masters remarked that it was time to return to the

college, Philip asked whether they might not have one more row. The master

consented, and they rowed to the accustomed turning-point. On arriving

there, and in turning the boat, Philip accidentally fell out into a very

deep part of the river; and, notwithstanding that every effort was made to

save him, was drowned.

"His dead body was brought back to the college, and the Very Rev. Dr.

Cox, the President, was immensely shocked and grieved. He was very fond of

Philip; but what was most dreadful to him was to have to break this sad

news to the boy's parents. He scarcely knew what to do, whether to write

by post, or to send a messenger. At last he determined to go himself to

Mr. Weld at Southampton. So he set off the same evening, and, passing

through London, reached Southampton the next day, and drove from thence to

Archer's Lodge, Mr. Weld's residence.

"On arriving there and being shown into his private study, Dr. Cox found

Mr. Weld in tears. The latter, rising from his seat and taking the doctor

by the hand, said, 'My dear sir, you need not tell me what you are come

for. I know it already. Philip is dead. Yesterday I was walking with my

daughter Katharine on the turnpike road, in broad daylight, and Philip

appeared to us both. He was standing on the causeway with another young

man in a black robe by his side. My daughter was the first to perceive

him. She said to me, "Look there, papa: there is Philip." I looked and saw

him. I said to my daughter, "It is Philip, indeed; but he has the look of

an angel." Not suspecting that he was dead, though greatly wondering that

he was there, I went towards him with my daughter to embrace him; but a

few yards being between us, while I was going up to him a labouring man,

who was walking on the same causeway, passed between the apparition and

the hedge, and as he went on I saw him pass through their apparent bodies,

as if they were transparent. On perceiving this I at once felt sure that

they were spirits, and going forward with my daughter to touch them,

Philip sweetly smiled on us, and then both he and his companion vanished

away.'"

"The reader may imagine how deeply affected Dr. Cox was on hearing this

remarkable statement. He of course corroborated it by relating to the

afflicted father the circumstances attendant on his son's death, which had

taken place at the very hour in which he appeared to his father and

sister. They all concluded that he had died in the grace of God, and that

he was in happiness, because of the placid smile on his face.[14]

"Dr. Cox asked Mr. Weld who the young man was in the black robe who had

accompanied his son, and who appeared to have a most beautiful and angelic

countenance, but he said that he had not the slightest idea.

"A few weeks afterwards, however, Mr. Weld was on a visit to the

neighbourhood of Stonyhurst in Lancashire. After hearing Mass one morning

in the chapel, he, while waiting for his carriage, was shown into the

guest-room, where, walking up to the fireplace, he saw a picture above the

chimney-piece, which, as it pleased God, represented a young man in a

black robe with the very face, form, and attitude of the companion of

Philip as he saw him in the vision, and beneath the picture was inscribed

'S. Stanislaus Kostka,'[15] one of the greatest saints of the Jesuit

order, and the one whom Philip had chosen for his patron saint at his

Confirmation. His father, overpowered with emotion, fell on his knees,

shedding many tears, and thanking God for this fresh proof of his son's

blessedness. For in what better company could he be than in that of his

patron saint, leading him, as it were, into the presence of his Creator

and his Saviour, from the dangers and temptations of this state of exile

to a condition of endless blessedness and happiness?"[16]

This is, perhaps, one of the most remarkable and best-authenticated recent

cases of Spectral Appearances which has ever been narrated. The various

independent testimonies dove-tailing together so perfectly, centre in the

leading supernatural fact--the actual apparition in the daytime of a

person just departed this life by sudden death, seen not by one only, but

by two people, simultaneously; and seen in company with the spirit of a

very holy and renowned saint, the chosen patron of the youth who had just

been drowned. A more clear and conclusive example of the Supernatural it

would be impossible to obtain.

The following case in certain particulars is not unlike that just

recorded; for two persons, at a distance of many hundred miles apart, saw

the Apparition of their departed relative who had just died in

Australia:--

"Circumstances, in the year 1848," writes a correspondent of the Editor,

"induced me to allow my youngest daughter to leave England, in order to

join a son of mine in Australia, who had left home about five years

previously, to seek his fortune in that country. In England, at home, he

had every opportunity of making his way in life, and settling

advantageously, but had availed himself of none that had offered. After

leaving school, he was placed under a private tutor's care, and duly

entered at Oxford. There he did nothing, or next to nothing, and left

without taking any degree. Soon after this, at his own suggestion, in

company with a friend, whose acquaintance he had made at the university,

an acquaintance which eventually ripened into a warm friendship, he went

to Australia; and he did not go empty-handed. A sum of money was placed to

his credit with a colonial bank in the city of London having agencies in

that colony, and nothing was left undone to secure for him a good start in

his self-chosen and new life. I ought to add here that my own wish always

had been that he should remain at home, and, after receiving orders,

become vicar of a parish, the patronage of which was in the gift of a

relation. Man proposes, but God disposes.

"In Australia, as was not otherwise than I myself had anticipated, the

manner of life was utterly unlike that to which he had been accustomed.

Ill-luck and want of success met him at every turn, as we afterwards found

out; and not only did want of success meet him, but he had to undergo

privations and hardships, which eventually weakened a constitution never

too strong.

"At the time that I consented to my daughter going out, much of the above

was unknown to us. He had written complaining of ill-health and weakness,

and she, with great self-denial and sisterly devotion, resolved to go. She

went with the understanding that she was soon to return. Just before she

started, the mail brought us unexceptionally bad news of her brother's

weak state of health, written by his college friend.

"About six weeks after her departure, I was sitting musing in my

arm-chair, on a summer afternoon, close to the window of my library, which

looked out upon a lawn, to the left of which were three large and

overspreading cedar-trees. All of a sudden I saw the life-like apparition

of my son standing below the cedar-trees. He looked very pale, thin, and

careworn, much altered, but my very son. He gazed at me intently, and with

a mournful gaze, for about the space of two minutes. I could not speak--I

could not move--I could not take my eyes off him. I seemed riveted to the

spot; and, of course, I was at once convinced of the fact that he had

died. Then he seemed gradually to fade away. It was weeks before I could

get the thoughts of his appearance out of my mind; and nothing that the

members of my family could say served to remove the impression so

indelibly stamped upon it of our loss.

"Some months afterwards, we received letters from my daughter (just

landed) and his other friends in Australia announcing his decease. He had

died somewhat suddenly, having expressed the most anxious desire to see me

before his death--a desire repeated again and again, and regarding which

he seemed to be unquiet.

"The most remarkable feature yet to be told in the circumstance was

this,--that my daughter, who was reposing in the ladies' cabin of the

ship, on her way to Australia, saw the apparition of her brother come into

the cabin, move round it by a strange motion, and then, after looking at

herself with a strained and mournful look, glide out again.

"Events afterwards showed that these appearances, both on shipboard and at

my own home, occurred at or about the very time of my dear boy's death.

And nothing will convince me that the record here set down is not one of

the most remarkable and undoubted examples of supernatural apparitions.

May God Almighty join us all together again, after these earthly

separations, in His heavenly kingdom!"

The following example, which has already appeared in print, is

authenticated by a personal acquaintance of the Editor, who has kindly

written him a Letter on the subject. It was first given to Dr. William

Gregory,[17] who published it about twenty-three years ago. It is said to

have occurred in 1849:[18]--

"An officer occupied the same room with another officer in the West

Indies. One night he awoke his companion, and asked him if he saw anything

in the room, when the latter answered that he saw an old man in the corner

whom he did not know. 'That,' said the other, 'is my father, and I am sure

he is dead.' In due time news arrived of his death in England at that very

time. Long afterwards the officer took his friend who had seen the vision

to visit the widow, when, on entering the room, he started, and said,

'_That is the portrait of the old man I saw_.' It was, in fact, the

portrait of the father, whom the friend had never seen except in the

vision."

"This story," writes Dr. Gregory, "I have on the best authority; and

everyone knows that such stories are not uncommon. It is very easy, but

not satisfactory, to laugh at them as incredible ghost stories; but there

is a natural truth in them, whatever they may be."

Examples of Apparitions at the time of Death to friends and relations are,

however, so numerous that a considerable number might readily be printed.

Here are two, well and duly authenticated.

The following statement is vouched for by the person signing the same:--

"In the summer of 1816, my father and mother having retired to bed

about nine o'clock, the latter was about to draw down the blind, when

she observed the figure of a female approaching their house by a

footpath which communicated with the village. Thinking the

circumstance unusual, she waited till the figure approached

sufficiently near to discern its features, when she exclaimed to my

father, 'Why, here is my sister B----; what can have induced her to

come here at this time of the evening?' She was about to prepare to go

downstairs to inquire the cause of such a visit at that late time of

night, when my mother observed the figure retracing its steps in the

same direction by which it had come. The following morning, early,

intelligence was brought to my mother that her sister B---- died at

the same hour at which her apparition appeared to my mother. This is a

simple statement of facts.

"Signed by the son of the person to whom the apparition appeared.

"C. J. Hanmer.

"33, Henley Street, Camp Hill, Birmingham."

The following is another statement of facts vouched for by those who

formally testify to its truth:--

"One evening in the autumn of the year 1868, my wife retired to bed

early. On my entering the bedroom about midnight, I found her wide

awake, and in a very excited state. On inquiring the cause, she stated

that she believed most firmly she had seen our old friend Mrs. G----,

then residing at a distance, whom we believed to be in perfect health.

My wife gave a minute description of her dress, which I had remembered

to have seen her wear, and at the same time stated that when the

apparition appeared to her, every object in the bedroom was strangely

but distinctly visible. Of course I tried to allay my wife's

excitement by assuring her that she was suffering from the effects of

an unpleasant dream, but I failed to shake her conviction that she had

seen the spirit of our friend.

"Nothing occurred during the next day, but on the following we

received a letter from a relative, stating that Mrs. G---- had died

the night before about twelve o'clock.

"It appears that Mrs. G----, while in her garden, was observed to fall

upon one of the flower beds. Having been taken to her room, medical

aid was promptly procured, but without avail: she remained unconscious

from that time until the moment of her death, which occurred about

twelve o'clock the same evening.

"(Signed) C. L. Hanmer,

Catherine Hanmer

(Wife of the above).

"Branch Dispensary, Camp Hill, Birmingham,

Oct. 18, 1872."

The following Account of the Apparition of a murdered man, near the place

of his death, is very remarkable. It has been published, though in another

form, in Australia, and is there generally accepted as true. The version

given below is from those who are thoroughly competent to furnish a true

and faithful account of a very impressive narrative:--

"In Australia, about twenty-five years ago, two graziers, who had

emigrated from England, and entered into partnership, became, as was

generally believed, possessed of considerable property, by an unlooked-for

success in their precarious but not unprofitable occupation. One of them

all of a sudden was missed, and could nowhere be found. Search was made

for him in every quarter, likely and unlikely, yet no tidings of him or

his whereabouts could be heard.

"One evening, about three weeks afterwards, his partner and companion was

returning to his hut along a bye-path which skirted a deep and broad sheet

of water. The shadows of twilight were deepening, and the setting sun was

almost shut out by the tall shrubs, brushwood, and rank grass which grew

so thick and wild. In a moment he saw the crouching figure of his

companion, apparently as real and life-like as could be, sitting on the

ground by the very margin of the deep pond, with his left arm bent,

resting on his left knee. He was about to rush forward and speak, when the

figure seemed to grow less distinct, and the ashen-coloured face wore an

unusually sad and melancholy aspect; so he paused. On this the figure,

becoming again more palpable, raised its right arm, and, holding down the

index finger of the right hand, pointed to a dark and deep hole, where the

water was still and black, immediately beside an overhanging tree. This

action was deliberately done, and then twice repeated, after which the

figure, growing more and more indistinct, seemed to fade away.

"The grazier was mortally terrified and alarmed. For a while he stood

riveted to the spot, fearing either to go forward or backward; while the

silence of evening and the strange solitude, now for the first time in

his Australian life thoroughly experienced, overawed him completely.

Afterwards he turned and went home. Night, which came on soon, brought him

no sleep. He was restless, agitated, and disquieted.

"The next morning, in company with others, the pool was dragged, and the

body of his partner discovered, in the very spot towards which the figure

of the phantom had twice pointed. It had been weighted and weighed down by

a large stone attached to the body; while from the same spot was recovered

a kind of axe or hatchet, with which the murder had evidently been

committed. This was identified as having belonged to a certain adventurer,

who, on being taxed and formally charged with the murder, and found to be

possessed of certain valuable documents belonging to the murdered man,

eventually confessed his crime, and was executed.

"This incident, and its supernatural occurrences, made a deep impression;

and, having been abundantly testified to, in a court of justice, as well

as in common and general conversation, is not likely to be soon forgotten

in the neighbourhood of Ballarat, in Australia, where it occurred."

Here, of course, the purpose of the Apparition was obvious enough; and the

end attained was as just and proper as it was true and righteous; for

"whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed."

The following example of the appearance of the spirit of a dying woman to

her children, who were at a distance of some hundreds of miles from her,

is a plain unvarnished narrative of facts. It is now published for the

first time.

"A lady and her husband (who held a position of some distinction in India)

were returning home (A.D. 1854) after an absence of four years, to join a

family of young children, when the former was seized in Egypt with an

illness of a most alarming character; and, though carefully tended by an

English physician and nursed with the greatest care, grew so weak that

little or no hope of her recovery existed. With that true kindness which

is sometimes withheld by those about a dying bed, she was properly and

plainly informed of her dangerous state, and bidden to prepare for the

worst. Of a devout, pious, and reverential mind, she is reported to have

made a careful preparation for her latter end, though no clergyman was at

hand to minister the last sacrament, or to afford spiritual consolation.

The only point which seemed to disturb her mind, after the delirium of

fever had passed away, was a deep-seated desire to see her absent children

once again, which she frequently expressed to those who attended upon her.

Day after day, for more than a week, she gave utterance to her longings

and prayers, remarking that she would die happily if only this one wish

could be gratified.

"On the morning of the day of her departure hence, she fell into a long

and heavy sleep, from which her attendants found it difficult to arouse

her. During the whole period of it she lay perfectly tranquil. Soon after

noon, however, she suddenly awoke, exclaiming, 'I have seen them all: I

have seen them. God be praised for Jesus Christ's sake!' and then slept

again. Towards evening, in perfect peace and with many devout

exclamations, she calmly yielded up her spirit to God Who gave it. Her

body was brought to England, and interred in the family burying-place.

"The most remarkable part of this incident remains to be told. The

children of the dying lady were being educated at Torquay under the

supervision of a friend of the family. At the very time that their mother

thus slept, they were confined to the house where they lived, by a severe

storm of thunder and lightning. Two apartments on one floor, perfectly

distinct, were then occupied by them as play and recreation rooms. All

were there gathered together. No one of the children was absent. They were

amusing themselves with games of chance, books, and toys, in company of a

nursemaid who had never seen their parents. All of a sudden their mother,

as she usually appeared, entered the larger room of the two, pausing,

looked for some moments at each and smiled, passed into the next room, and

then vanished away. Three of the elder children recognized her at once,

but were greatly disturbed and impressed at her appearance, silence, and

manner. The younger and the nursemaid each and all saw a lady in white

come into the smaller room, and then slowly glide by and fade away."

The date of this occurrence, September 10, 1854, was carefully noted, and

it was afterwards found that the two events above recorded happened almost

contemporaneously. A record of the event was committed to paper, and

transcribed on a fly-leaf of the family Bible, from which the above

account was taken and given to the Editor of this book in the autumn of

the year 1871, by a relation of the lady in question, who is well

acquainted with the fact of her spectral appearance at Torquay, and has

vouched for the truth of it in the most distinct and formal manner. The

husband, who was reported to have been of a somewhat sceptical habit of

mind, was deeply impressed by the occurrence. And though it is seldom

referred to now, it is known to have had a very deep and lasting religious

effect on more than one person who was permitted directly to witness

it.[19]

A personal acquaintance of the Editor, whom he has had the pleasure of

knowing for twenty years, most kindly furnishes the following example:--

"In the winter of 1872-3 I was afflicted with a long and severe illness,

so severe indeed, that for six weeks I was hovering between life and

death. A nurse of great knowledge and intelligence was in attendance on

me; she had been brought up as a Socinian, and was entirely careless as to

religious belief. At the same time she was wholly devoted to her duties,

and most attentive and assiduous in the same. Two days after her arrival

she was sitting up in the adjoining room, the folding-doors between which

and the room where I was lying being open, and lights were burning in each

apartment. It had struck two o'clock a.m., and from my critical position

she was unwilling either to sleep or to secure temporary rest. On looking

up at that moment she perceived a form bending over me. The figure was

that of an aged person with attenuated features, straggling grey hair, and

thin clasped hands, which were placed in the attitude of prayer. For a

while she thought it was someone who had entered the room; but, after

gazing at it intently, she was smitten with a strange awe, and stood

watching it attentively for at least five minutes, when it gradually faded

away and disappeared.

"On the first opportunity she mentioned this strange occurrence to the

people of the house, when she heard for the first time that my father had

been lying dangerously ill at his own residence, more than a hundred

miles away. At the time of my own and my father's sickness, my dangerous

state, for medical and prudential reasons, was not communicated to him,

and my illness was made light of, fearing the bad effect upon himself.

That it was his Spirit which then appeared seems undoubted: for at two

o'clock p.m. a relation came to see me from the City where my father had

lived, to break to me the sad news of his decease. He had departed this

life exactly at the period when his apparition in the attitude of prayer

had been seen by my attendant. These facts were not made known to me until

some time afterwards."[20]

The following story, no less interesting and impressive, appears in "The

Life and Times of Lord Brougham, written by Himself," published a few

years ago by Messrs. Blackwood and Co.:--

"'A most remarkable thing happened to me--so remarkable that I must tell

the story from the beginning. After I left the High School [in Edinburgh],

I went with G----, my most intimate friend, to attend the classes in the

University. There was no divinity class, but we frequently in our walks

discussed and speculated upon many grave subjects--among others, on the

immortality of the soul, and on a future state. This question and the

possibility, I will not say of ghosts walking, but of the dead appearing

to the living, were subjects of much speculation; and we actually

committed the folly of drawing up an agreement, written with our blood, to

the effect that whichever of us died first should appear to the other, and

thus solve any doubts we had entertained of the "life after death." After

we had finished our classes at the College, G---- went to India, having

got an appointment there in the Civil Service. He seldom wrote to me, and

after the lapse of a few years I had almost forgotten him; moreover, his

family having little connection with Edinburgh, I seldom saw or heard

anything of them, or of him through them, so that all the old schoolboy

intimacy had died out and I had nearly forgotten his existence. I had

taken, as I have said, a warm bath; and while in it and enjoying the

comfort of the heat after the late freezing I had undergone, I turned my

head round towards the chair on which I had deposited my clothes, as I was

about to get out of the bath. On the chair sat G----, looking calmly at

me. How I got out of the bath I know not, but on recovering my senses I

found myself sprawling on the floor. The apparition, or whatever it was

that had taken the likeness of G----, had disappeared. The vision produced

such a shock that I had no inclination to talk about it, or to speak about

it even to Stuart; but the impression it made upon me was too vivid to be

easily forgotten; and so strongly was I affected by it, that I have here

written down the whole history with the date, 19th December, and all the

particulars as they are now fresh before me. No doubt I had fallen asleep;

and that the appearance presented so distinctly to my eyes was a dream, I

cannot for a moment doubt, yet for years I had had no communication with

G----, nor had there been anything to recall him to my recollection;

nothing had taken place during our Swedish travels either connected with

G---- or with India, or with anything relating to him or to any member of

his family. I recollected quickly enough our old discussion, and the

bargain we had made. I could not discharge from my mind the impression

that G---- must have died, and that his appearance to me was to be

received by me as a proof of a future state.' This was on December 19,

1799. In October, 1862, Lord Brougham added as a postscript:--'I have just

been copying out from my journal the account of this strange dream:

certissima mortis imago! And now to finish the story, begun about sixty

years since. Soon after my return to Edinburgh there arrived a letter from

India announcing G----'s death! and stating that he had died on the 19th

of December.'"

The following example of the apparition of a departed friend is, for

reasons which will be apparent from the narrative, not unlike the three

curious, but independent cases already recorded in the early part of the

present chapter, and not altogether unlike that told by the late Lord

Brougham. It comes directly to the Editor from the pen of the person who

saw the spectral appearance:--

"I was sitting in my library one evening, towards the close of summer,

somewhat late. The shadow of evening had been deepening for some time, for

the sun had long gone down; and the expansive valley beyond and below my

sloping garden was white with mist. Within, beyond the heavy folds of the

curtains which hung beside a single and rather small and open window,

there was a grey darkness which almost enshrouded the corners of the room

on either side. I had been musing and meditating on a variety of subjects,

theological, metaphysical, and moral, for more than an hour; while I

reposed in a low arm-chair on one side of the fire-place.

"All of a sudden I saw what seemed to be an elongated perpendicular cloud

of foggy-looking grey smoke, collected in the right-hand corner of the

room. I could not comprehend what it was. While looking steadily at it,

and rubbing my eyes (doubting for a moment whether I was awake or asleep),

it seemed to form itself, by a kind of circular rolling motion of the

smoke or luminous mist, into a human shape. There, before me, came out

slowly, as it were, face, head, body, arms, hands and feet--at first a

little indistinct in detail, but eventually so self-evident and clear

that it was impossible to doubt the fact--of a figure, which a moment or

two afterwards was developed into the exact and unmistakeable form of an

old fellow-student at Oxford, who had died soon after we left that

university, and of whom I had heard nothing whatever since the day of his

death about seven years previously,[21] to that moment. Appearing just as

he had lived, though death-like and ashen, he looked at me with a fixed

and strangely-vacant stare, which appeared to grow alternately vivid and

piercing, and dull and nebulous. I seemed to feel the air all at once

chill and unearthly; and an indescribable sensation came over me which I

had never experienced either before or afterwards. I felt almost

paralyzed, and yet not altogether terrified. The form of my old college

companion (who had been a very upright, devout and religious man) in a

moment smiled at me, and raising his hand, pointed for a few seconds

upwards. At this action a very bright mist, not exactly a light, but a

luminous mist, seemed to hover over him. I tried to speak, but could not.

My tongue clave to the roof of my mouth. Then, protecting myself with the

sign of the Cross, and a mental invocation of the Blessed Trinity, I

sheltered my eyes with my right hand for a few seconds, and then looking

up again saw the apparition become more and more indistinct and soon

altogether fade away.

"This is my ghost story, and I have always connected the appearance with

arguments and conversations which, against aggressive objectors, used to

be held at Oxford in defence of the Christian doctrines of the

Resurrection of the Body and the Immortality of the Soul, in which my dead

friend took so intelligent and earnest a part."

Not less interesting is the following account of a Spectral Appearance

which occurred in the latter part of the afternoon of a bright autumnal

day, well authenticated, and here set forth for the first time:--

"The widow of a well-known Bristol merchant was, in 1856, acting as lady

housekeeper to a Berkshire clergyman. One of her sons was an officer in

the Indian army, and serving in the Madras Presidency. It was his custom

to write to his mother by every fortnightly mail. He had not missed doing

so with punctual regularity.

"One evening, however, between six and seven, in the month of October of

the above year, the lady in question was walking on the lawn before the

house, in company with the curate of the parish, a well-known Oxford man,

when all of a sudden both of them saw what appeared to be a dog-cart

containing three men drive along the lane which skirted the lawn and

flower-garden, and which was separated from it by a closely-cut

box-hedge, so low as to admit of those who were walking in the garden

seeing with ease and distinctness any person approaching the house in a

vehicle. It was driven in the direction of the carriage entrance, and,

from the sound, appeared to have entered the court-yard of the house. One

of the persons in it, he who sat behind, half rose, and looking towards

his mother and the clergyman, smiled, and waved his right hand as a

greeting. He looked very pale and ashy; otherwise there was nothing

remarkable in his appearance. Both most distinctly observed the action

just mentioned. Immediately on seeing it, the lady exclaimed with marked

feeling and excitement, 'Good heavens! why, there's Robert.' She at once

rushed through a passage of the house, which led directly to the

court-yard, only to find to her amazement and perplexity that no carriage

nor dog-cart had arrived, and that the large gates of the house were, as

usual, locked and fastened, and moreover had not been opened.

"The impression this remarkable incident made was deep and great. No doubt

whatever existed in the minds of those who had seen and heard the passing

vehicle, that the form on the seat behind was the son of the lady in

question. She consequently felt confident that some harm had happened to

him, became miserable, and was inconsolable. No remarks or reasoning to

the contrary, several of which were attempted, produced the slightest

effect. A deep gloom settled over her. The sequel can soon be narrated. In

the course of a few weeks the mail _viâ_ Southampton, most anxiously

looked for, brought two letters to the lady in question, one intimating

that her son had been suddenly struck with a most severe fever, was

delirious and in great danger; the other intimating his death. This latter

occurred on the very day at which the appearance in question was seen, but

at a slightly different time."

With the following example, as strange in itself as it is painfully

interesting, this part of the subject will be brought to a close. It is

only right to add that a version of the incident which now follows has

already appeared in one of Mr. Henry Spicer's interesting volumes:--

"A young German lady of rank, still alive to tell the story, arriving with

her friends at one of the most noted hotels in Paris, an apartment of

unusual magnificence on the first floor was apportioned to her use. After

retiring to rest, she lay awake a long while contemplating, by the dim

light of a night lamp, the costly ornaments in the room, when suddenly the

folding doors opposite the bed, which she had locked, were thrown open,

and amid a flood of unearthly light there entered a young man in the dress

of the French navy, having his hair dressed in the peculiar mode _à la

Titus_. Taking a chair, and placing it in the middle of the room, he sat

down, and took from his pocket a pistol of an uncommon make, which he

deliberately put to his forehead, fired, and fell back dead. At the moment

of the explosion, the room became dark and still, and a low voice said

softly, 'Say an _Ave Maria_ for his soul.'

"The young lady fell back, not insensible, but paralyzed with horror, and

remained in a kind of cataleptic trance, fully conscious, but unable to

move or speak, until at nine o'clock, no answer having been given to

repeated calls of her maid, the doors were forced open. At the same

moment, the powers of speech returned, and the poor young lady shrieked

out to her attendants that a man had shot himself in the night, and was

lying dead on the floor. Nothing, however, was to be seen, and they

concluded that she was suffering from the effects of a dream.

"A short time afterwards, however, the proprietor of the hotel informed a

gentleman of the party that the terrible scene witnessed by the young lady

had in reality been enacted only three nights previously in that very

room, when a young French officer put an end to his life with a pistol of

a peculiar description, which, together with the body, was then lying at

the Morgue, awaiting identification. The gentleman examined them both, and

found them exactly correspond with the description of the man and the

pistol seen in the apparition. The Archbishop of Paris, Monseigneur

Sibour, being exceedingly impressed by the story, called upon the young

lady; and, directing her attention to the words spoken by the mysterious

voice, urged her to embrace the Roman Catholic faith, to whose teaching,

as His Grace asserted, it pointed so clearly."

The various examples of Spectral Appearances now given (and they might

have been largely augmented) may certainly serve to provide cases, so

inherently striking and conclusive in themselves, as to leave little or no

doubt of their intrinsic truth. Making every allowance for unintentional

misconceptions and exaggeration in the record of them, putting aside mere

rhetorical ornaments and literary additions, it seems quite impossible,

being guided by the ordinary rules of evidence, not to admit the force and

value of such striking facts as the above. In the cases already set forth,

it is quite irrational to maintain that the disturbed imagination or wild

fancy of the persons who are said to have seen the Apparitions were the

sole foundations of the things seen; more especially as in some instances

the Appearances were beheld by two or more persons at the same time, and

often the same form presented itself to different people upon different

occasions. It may be that some own a power of seeing disembodied spirits,

which is not possessed by others, and it is tolerably certain that the

large majority of people have never beheld anything of the sort. But this,

after all, is but negative testimony. That which is positive, covering, it

may be, a small area, is of considerable value and importance in aiding

those who are open to conviction in coming to a reasonable conclusion. For

existing positive evidence cannot be rudely and arrogantly set aside, when

found to be, as in the case under consideration, so completely in harmony

with many of the plain and specific statements of Holy Scripture, with the

express testimony of the Fathers of the Christian Church, and the almost

universal tradition of mankind in every age.

HAUNTED HOUSES AND LOCALITIES.

"Nations civilized as well as uncivilized: barbarians of the rudest type,

and Christians of the highest and deepest spirituality, have always

believed that certain localities were the haunts of unquiet

spirits."-_-Richard H. Froude._