Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB
[ocr errors]

bovin, women tuum appare Kend T. was of art to te 2016, and be it tapontot, but bet is what had been that OLATE STOK. but move roul I sed late at ngit, wuet pusat y ese fent se tuongs some one was looking at Si tame wer eyes, and cow at si mas at the foot of ANA YA, ARTZ WIE DO 4e haste of a twisted stick; the K9 An ka Great, coma ver ever, and offered up a prayer, Marsa vy, Bug now i to parning away by the ride of her bed, where & Gout war, vut de pensed teronge without opening it. Vilomake COWL V Drvar fest, the V.d us of what she had MAN, GEMNINg b'e crees, and the particular stick. Robert kh ka mud, “My grandfather always leated soon such a urt what you saw", W When she was shown portret, rue Leary failua; it was the exact resemblance of the apps tion she had seen in her bedroom.

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

I myf have only seen at Plas Tref......n what was inteamy lovely, I was one night asleep, and was suddenly awakened by an impression made upon me by some external influence, and I at once saw a light, such as in paintings represents the balo round the head of saints. I sat up, looked long at it, till it faded away,

Soon after this, my brother, his wife, and child came here from India; as they wished the child to sleep in their room, I gave them this same room, the largest in the house. They Ind, of course, not heard of what I had seen. My brother, the next morning at breakfast, said, "You should have told ine that you had put us into a haunted room"; he then told me precisely what I had felt and seen of the appearance of the glorious effulgence of this radiant light.

Home months after this, three ladies who were sisters came to visit me, two arriving in the morning, the other later. The two first asked me to let them have rooms near each other. I sent them to choose their own. They fixed on the large room, which contained a large and a smaller bed, consequently the three sisters slept in the same room.

The next morning, when they came down to breakfast, they said that they were awakened in the night, and saw and described what they never could have heard of-the lovely light, my brother and I had seen. Months after I again saw it; and although I lighted a candle, I could still perceive its exquisito light, till it had softly faded away. We have tried to look for a cause for it, but hitherto we have quite failed in our endeavours to account for its continued appearance.

Apparition of a young Lady to her Lover.

This young gentlewoman lived at St. Ives, in Cornwall, and died of the small-pox there, in September 1764; and her sweetheart was the son of Mr. Haine, a respectable farmer, at Scar, about twenty miles from Plymouth. The match was not approved of by the young woman's friends; and during her illness they would not suffer the young man to come to see her, although she greatly desired to see him. About the time of her illness, he also was taken sick of a fever, and confined to his room; so that it was above a month after her death before she made her first appearance to him.

"After I recovered from my illness," says he, "I went out on horseback for a little airing; and, returning home just at dusk, about a mile from my father's house, I saw something, as on horseback, pass very swiftly by me; which so frightened my horse, that he flew home with me as fast as possible, and I was also very much alarmed. A short time after this she appeared again to me, and then I knew her; and what is remarkable, whenever I was on horseback, she also appeared on horseback; and when I was on foot, she appeared so too; and her appearances to me were so frequent, that she became quite familiar, and I had no fear at all on seeing her; which she never failed to do if I went out; bnt she never appeared to me in my father's house.

"It was above a month before I had any power given me to speak to her, although I thought to do it from time to time, but could not speak; though she gave me all the opportunity she could, by walking often by my side, or very near me. This was a great trouble to me, as well as to her; and it began to bring a great weakness on me.

About a week after I had last seen her, as I was sitting in my father's house, it was strongly impressed upon my mind. to go out that night, and, with God's leave, to speak to her. Accordingly, about ten o'clock, I went out with all the courage imaginable, and she appeared to me as usual; and I said to her, 'In the name of God, why do you thus trouble me?' and I was going to lay hold of her arm. She shrunk back, and said, 'Do not touch me, I am as cold as clay'; she spoke out, and blamed me for not speaking to her sooner; and said, 'that this was the very last night of her liberty to appear to me; and had you not spoken to me now', said she, 'I should have had power to do you some mischief'. Then she related to me what she had to say about her family, who had cruelly

hindered her from seeing some of her dear relations. After telling me about her whole mind, she gave me plain directions concerning herself. We conversed together for nearly two hours, till twelve o'clock; and I promised, if possible, to fulfil all her instructions.

"Accordingly, I set out early next morning, rode nearly fifty miles, to different parts, fulfilled all her commands, and got back safe to my father's house. She appointed me to meet her that night, if I had done my business before twelve, at the church door, where she was buried: this was about two miles from my father's house. She met me at the church porch, expressed her entire approbation of all that I had done, saying, she would now be at rest, and would trouble me no more.

"After a short discourse, which she charged me never to divulge, she said, 'My time is nearly expired, follow me into the church.' The door opening, she entered the church, which was illuminated with the most glorious light; and my hearing the most soft and heavenly music betokened her happiness. She bid me take notice, when the music began to cease, to go then out of the church, which I did; and being very glad that all my trouble in this affair was ended, I hastened away, and saw her no more. "J. HAINE."

An account of an Apparition attested by the Rev. Mr. Ruddle, minister at Launceston, in Cornwall.

In the beginning of the year 1665 a disease happened in this town of Launceston, and some of my scholars died of it. Among others who fell under its malignity was John Elliott, the eldest son of Edward Elliott of Treberse, Esq., a stripling of about sixteen years of age, but of uncommon parts and ingenuity. At his own particular request I preached at the funeral, which happened on the 20th day of June 1665. In my discourse I spoke some words in commendation of the young gentleman; such as might endear his memory to those who knew him, and withal tend to preserve his example to those who went to school with him, and were to continue after him. An ancient gentleman, who was then in the church, was much affected with the discourse, and often heard to repeat the same evening, one expression I then used out of Virgil.

66 'Et puer ipse fuit cantari dignus."

1 This young lady lived and died with her relations, who, having most of her property in their hands, concealed her sickness from her friends; their not being suffered to visit her, was supposed to be the cause of her disquiet, and of Mr. Haine's conference with her.

The reason why this grave gentleman was so concerned at the character, was a reflection made upon a son of his own, who, being about the same age, and but a few months before not unworthy of the like character I gave of the young Mr. Elliott, was now, by a strange accident, quite lost as to his parent's hopes, and all expectations of any further comfort by him.

The funeral rites being over, I was no sooner come out of the church, but I found myself most courteously accosted by this old gentleman; and with an unusual importunity, almost forced against my humour to his house that night; nor could I have rescued myself from his kindness, had not Mr. Elliott interposed, and pleaded title to me for the whole day, which, as he said, he would resign to no man. Hereupon I got loose for that time, but was constrained to leave a promise behind me to wait upon him at his own house the Monday following. This, then, seemed to satisfy, but before Monday came, I had a new message to request me, that if it were possible I would be there the Sunday. The second attempt I resisted, by answering that it was against my convenience, and the duty which mine own people expected from me. was not the gentleman at rest, for he sent me another letter the Saturday, by no means to fail the Monday, and so to order my business as to spend with him two or three days at least. I was indeed startled at so much eagerness, and so many dunnings for a visit, without any business; and began to suspect that there must needs be some design in the bottom of all this excess of courtesy. For I had no familiarity, scarce common acquaintance with the gentleman, or his family; nor could I imagine whence should arise such a flush of friendship on the sudden.

Yet

On the Monday I went and paid my promised devoir, and met with entertainment as free and plentiful, as the invitation was importunate. There, also, I found a neighbouring minister, who pretended to call in accidentally, but by the sequel

suppose it otherwise. After dinner, this brother of the coat undertook to show me the gardens, where, as we were walking, he gave me the first discovery of what was mainly intended in all this treat and compliment.

First, he began to inform me of the infelicity of the family in general, and then gave instance in the youngest son. He related what a hopeful, sprightly lad he lately was, and how melancholick and sottish he was now grown. Then did he with much passion lament, that his ill-humour should so incredibly subdue his reason; saith he, "The poor boy believes

himself to be haunted with ghosts, and is confident that he meets with an evil spirit in a certain field, about half a mile from this place, as often as he goes that way to school". In the midst of our discourse, the old gentleman and his lady (as observing their cue most exactly) came up to us. Upon their approach, and pointing me to the arbour, the parson renewed the relation to, and they (the parents of the youth) confirmed what he said, and added many minute circumstances, in a long narrative of the whole. In fine, they all three desired my thoughts and advice in the affair.

I was not able to collect my thoughts enough on the sudden, to frame a judgment upon what they had said. Only I answered, that the thing which the youth reported to them was strange, yet not incredible, and that I knew not then what to think or say of it; but if the lad would be free to me in talk, and trust me with his counsels, I had hopes to give them a better account of my opinion the next day.

I had no sooner spoken so much, but I perceived myself in the spring their courtesy had laid for me; for the old lady was not able to hide her impatience, but her son must be called immediately. This I was forced to comply with, and consent to; so that, drawing off from the company to an orchard hard by, she went herself, and brought him to me, and left him with me.

It was the main drift of all these three to persuade me, that either the boy was lazy, and glad of an excuse to keep from the school, or that he was in love with some wench, and ashamed to confess it; or that he had a fetch upon his father to get money and new clothes, that he might range to London after a brother he had there; and therefore they begged of me to discover the root of the matter; and accordingly to dissuade, advise, or reprove him; but chiefly by all means to undeceive him, as to the fancy of ghosts and spirits.

I soon entered into close conference with the youth, and at first was very cautious not to displease him, but by smooth words to ingratiate myself and get within him; for I doubted he would be too distrustful or too reserved. But we had scarce passed the first situation, and began to speak to the business, before I found that there needed no policy to screw myself into his heart; for he most openly, and with all obliging candour did aver that he loved his book, and desired nothing more than to be bred a scholar; that he had not the least respect for any of womankind, as his mother gave out; and that the only request he would make to his parents was, that they would but believe his constant assertions concerning the

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »