Night-Side of Nature; Or, Ghosts and Ghost-Seers — Chapter 5 - Warnings (Part 1)

WARNINGS.

THIS comparison between the power of presentiment in a human being and the instincts of an animal, may be offensive to some people; but it must be admitted, that, as far as we can see, the manifestation is the same, whatever be the cause.

Now, the body of an animal must be informed by an immaterial principle—let us call it soul or spirit, or anything else;

for it is evident that their actions are not the mere result of organization; and all I mean to imply is, that this faculty of foreseeing must be inherent in intelligent spirit, let it be lodged in what form of flesh it may; while, with regard to what instinct is, we are, in the meanwhile, in extreme ignorance, _Instinct_ being a word which, like _Imagination_, everybody uses, and nobody understands.

Ennemoser and Schubert believe, that the instinct by which animals seek their food, consists in polarity, but I have met with only two modern theories which pretend to explain the phenomena of presentiment; the one is, that the person is in a temporarily magnetic state, and that the presentiment is a kind of clairvoyance.

That the faculty, like that of prophetic dreaming, is constitutional, and chiefly manifested in certain families, is well established; and the very unimportant events, such as visits, and so forth, on which it frequently exercises itself, forbid us to seek an explanation in a higher source.

It seems, also, to be quite independent of the will of the subject, as it was in the case of Zschokke, who found himself thus let into the secrets of persons in whom he felt no manner of interest, while, where the knowledge might have been of use to him, he could not command it.

The theory of one half of the brain in a negative state, serving as a mirror to the other half, if admitted at all, may answer as well, or better, for these waking presentiments, than for clear-seeing in dreams.

But, for my own part, I incline very much to the views of that school of philosophers who adopt the first and more spiritual theory, which seems to me to offer fewer difficulties, while, as regards our present nature, and future hopes, it is certainly more satisfactory.

Once admitted that the body is but the temporary dwelling of an immaterial spirit, the machine through which, and by which, in its normal states, the spirit alone can manifest itself, I can not see any great difficulty in conceiving that, in certain conditions of that body, their relations may be modified, and that the spirit may perceive, by its own inherent quality, without the aid of its material vehicle; and, as this condition of the body may arise from causes purely physical, we see at once why the revelations frequently regard such unimportant events.

Plutarch, in his dialogue between Lamprius and Ammonius, observes, that if the demons, or protecting spirits, that watch over mankind, are disembodied souls, we ought not to doubt that those spirits, even when in the flesh, possessed the faculties they now enjoy, since we have no reason to suppose that any new ones are conferred at the period of dissolution; for these faculties must be inherent, although temporarily obscured, and weak and ineffective in their manifestations.

As it is not when the sun breaks from behind the clouds that he first begins to shine, so it is not when the soul issues from the body, as from a cloud that envelops it, that it first attains the power of looking into the future.

But the events foreseen are not always unimportant, nor is the mode of the communication always of the same nature.

I have mentioned above some instances wherein danger was avoided, and there are many of the same kind recorded in various works; and it is the number of instances of this description, corroborated by the universal agreement of all somnambulists of a higher order, which has induced a considerable section of the German psychologists to adopt the doctrine of guardian spirits—a doctrine which has prevailed, more or less, in all ages, and has been considered by many theologians to be supported by the Bible.

There is in this country, and I believe in France, also, though with more exceptions, such an extreme aversion to admit the possibility of anything like what is called supernatural agency, that the mere avowal of such a persuasion is enough to discredit one’s understanding with a considerable part of the world, not excepting those who profess to believe in the Scriptures.

Yet, even apart from this latter authority, I can not see anything repugnant to reason in such a belief.

As far as we see of nature, there is a continued series from the lowest to the highest; and what right have we to conclude that we are the last link of the chain?

Why may there not be a gamut of beings?

That such should be the case, is certainly in accordance with all that we see; and that we do not see them, affords, as I have said above, not a shadow of argument against their existence; man, immersed in business and pleasure, living only his sensuous life, is too apt to forget how limited those senses are, how merely designed for a temporary purpose, and how much may exist of which they can take no cognizance.

The _possibility_ admitted, the chief arguments against the _probability_ of such a guardianship, are the interference it implies with the free-will of man, on the one hand, and the rarity of this interference, on the other.

With respect to the first matter of free-will, it is a subject of acknowledged difficulty, and beyond the scope of my work.

Nobody can honestly look back upon his past life without feeling perplexed by the question, of how far he was, or was not, able at the moment to resist certain impulsions, which caused him to commit wrong or imprudent actions; and it must, I fear, ever remain a _quæstio vexata_, how far our virtues and vices depend upon our organization—an organization whose constitution is beyond our own power, in the first instance, although we may certainly improve or deteriorate it; but which we must admit, at the same time, to be, in its present deteriorated form, the ill result of the world’s corruption, and the inherited penalty of the vices of our predecessors, whereby the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.

There is, as the Scriptures say, but one way to salvation, though there are many to perdition—that is, though there are many wrongs, there is only one right; for truth is one, and our true liberty consists in being free to follow it; for we can not imagine that anybody seeks his own perdition, and nobody, I conceive, loves vice for its own sake, as others love virtue, that is, because it _is_ vice: so that, when they follow its dictates, we must conclude that they are not free, but in bondage, whose ever bond-slave they be, whether of an evil spirit, or of their own organization; and I think every human being, who looks into himself, will feel that he is in effect then only _free_ when he is obeying the dictates of virtue; and that the language of Scripture, which speaks of sin as a bondage, is not only metaphorically but literally true.

The warning a person of an impending danger or error implies no constraint; the subject of the warning is free to take the hint or not, as he pleases; we receive many cautions, both from other people and from our own consciences, which we refuse to benefit by.

With regard to the second objection, it seems to have greater weight;

for although the instances of presentiment are very numerous, taken apart, they are certainly, as far as we know, still but exceptional cases.

But here we must remember that an influence of this sort might be very continuously, though somewhat remotely, exercised in favor of an individual, without the occurrence of any instance of so striking a nature as to render the interference manifest; and certain it is that some people—I have met with several, and very sensible persons too—have all their lives an intuitive persuasion of such a guardianship existing in relation to themselves.

That in our normal states it was not intended we should hold sensible communion with the invisible world, seems evident; but nature abounds in exceptions; and there may be conditions regarding both parties, the incorporated and the unincorporated spirit, which may at times bring them into a more intimate relation.

No one who believes that consciousness is to survive the death of the body, can doubt that the released spirit will then hold communion with its congeners; it being the fleshly tabernacles we inhabit which alone disables us from doing so at present.

But since the constitutions of bodies vary exceedingly, not only in different individuals, but in the same individuals at different times, may we not conceive the possibility of there existing conditions which, by diminishing the obstructions, render this communion practicable within certain limits?

For there certainly are recorded and authentic instances of presentiments and warnings, that with difficulty admit of any other explanation; and that these admonitions are more frequently received in the state of sleep than of vigilance, rather furnishes an additional argument in favor of the last hypothesis; for if there be any foundation for the theories above suggested, it is then that, the sensuous functions being in abeyance and the external life thereby shut out from us, the spirit would be most susceptible to the operations of spirit, whether of our deceased friends or of appointed ministers, if such there be.

Jung Stelling is of opinion that we must decide from the aim and object of the revelation, whether it be a mere development of the faculty of presentiment, or a case of spiritual intervention; but this would surely be a very erroneous mode of judging, since the presentiment that foresees a visit may foresee a danger, and show us how to avoid it, as in the following instance:— A few years ago, Dr. W——, now residing at Glasgow, dreamed that he received a summons to attend a patient at a place some miles from where he was living; that he started on horseback; and that, as he was crossing a moor, he saw a bull making furiously at him, whose horns he only escaped by taking refuge on a spot inaccessible to the animal, where he waited a long time, till some people, observing his situation, came to his assistance and released him.

While at breakfast on the following morning, the summons came; and, smiling at the odd _coincidence_, he started on horseback.

He was quite ignorant of the road he had to go; but by-and-by he arrived at the moor, which he recognised, and presently the bull appeared, coming full tilt toward him.

But his dream had shown him the place of refuge, for which he instantly made; and there he spent three or four hours, besieged by the animal, till the country people set him free.

Dr. W—— declares that, but for the dream, he should not have known in what direction to run for safety.

A butcher named Bone, residing at Holytown, dreamed a few years since that he was stopped at a particular spot on his way to market, whither he was going on the following day to purchase cattle, by two men in blue clothes, who cut his throat.

He told the dream to his wife, who laughed at him; but, as it was repeated two or three times and she saw he was really alarmed, she advised him to join somebody who was going the same road.

He accordingly listened till he heard a cart passing his door, and then went out and joined the man, telling him the reason for so doing.

When they came to the spot, there actually stood the two men in blue clothes, who, seeing he was not alone, took to their heels and ran.

Now, although the dream was here probably the means of saving Bone’s life, there is no reason to suppose that this is a case of what is called _supernatural intervention_.

The phenomenon would be sufficiently accounted for by the admission of the hypothesis I have suggested, namely, that he was aware of the impending danger in his sleep, and had been able, from some cause unknown to us, to convey the recollection into his waking state.

I know instances in which, for several mornings previous to the occurrence of a calamity, persons have awakened with a painful sense of misfortune, for which they could not account, and which was dispersed as soon as they had time to reflect that they had no cause for uneasiness.

This is the only kind of presentiment I ever experienced myself; but it has occurred to me twice, in a very marked and unmistakable manner.

As soon as the intellectual life, the life of the brain, and the external world, broke in, the instinctive life receded, and the intuitive knowledge was obscured.

Or, according to Dr. Ennemoser’s theory, the polar relations changed, and the nerves were busied with conveying sensuous impressions to the brain, their sensibility or positive state now being transferred from the internal to the external periphery.

It is by the contrary change that Dr. Ennemoser seeks to explain the insensibility to pain of mesmerized patients.

A circumstance of a similar kind to the above occurred in a well-known family in Scotland, the Rutherfords of E——.

A lady dreamed that her aunt, who resided at some distance, was murdered by a black servant.

Impressed with the liveliness of the vision, she could not resist going to the house of her relation, where the man she had dreamed of (whom I think she had never before seen) opened the door to her.

Upon this, she induced a gentleman to watch in the adjoining room during the night; and toward morning, hearing a foot upon the stairs, he opened the door and discovered the black servant carrying up a coal-scuttle full of coals, for the purpose, as he said, of lighting his mistress’s fire.

As this motive did not seem very probable, the coals were examined, and a knife found hidden among them, with which, he afterward confessed, he intended to have murdered his mistress, provided she made any resistance to a design he had formed of robbing her of a large sum of money which he was aware she had that day received.

The following case has been quoted in several medical works, at least in works written by learned doctors, and on that account I should not mention it here, but for the purpose of remarking on the extraordinary facility with which, while they do not question the fact, they dispose of the mystery:— Mr. D——, of Cumberland, when a youth, came to Edinburgh, for the purpose of attending college, and was placed under the care of his uncle and aunt, Major and Mrs. Griffiths, who then resided in the castle.

When the fine weather came, the young man was in the habit of making frequent excursions with others of his own age and pursuits; and one afternoon he mentioned that they had formed a fishing-party, and had bespoken a boat for the ensuing day.

No objections were made to this plan; but in the middle of the night, Mrs. Griffiths screamed out, “The boat is sinking!

—oh, save them!

” Her husband said he supposed she had been thinking of the fishing-party, but she declared she had never thought about it at all, and soon fell asleep again.

But, ere long, she awoke a second time, crying out that she “saw the boat sinking!

”—“It must have been the remains of the impression made by the other dream,” she suggested to her husband, “for I have no uneasiness whatever about the fishing-party.

” But on going to sleep once more, her husband was again disturbed by her cries: “They are gone!

” she said, “the boat has sunk!

” She now really became alarmed, and, without waiting for morning, she threw on her dressing-gown, and went to Mr. D——, who was still in bed, and whom with much difficulty she persuaded to relinquish his proposed excursion.

He consequently sent his servant to Leith with an excuse, and the party embarked without him.

The day was extremely fine when they put to sea, but some hours afterward a storm arose, in which the boat foundered—nor did any one of the number survive to tell the tale!

“This dream is easily accounted for,” say the learned gentlemen above alluded to, “from the dread all women have of the water, and the danger that attends boating on the firth of Forth!

” Now, I deny that all women have a dread of the water, and there is not the slightest reason for concluding that Mrs. Griffiths had.

At all events, she affirms that she felt no uneasiness at all about the party, and one might take leave to think that her testimony upon that subject is of more value than that of persons who never had any acquaintance with her, and who were not so much as born at the time the circumstance occurred, which was in the year 1731. Besides, if Mrs. Griffiths’s dread arose simply from “the dread all women have of the water,” and that its subsequent verification was a mere coincidence, since women constantly risk their persons for voyages and boating excursions, such dreams should be extremely frequent—the fact of there being any accident impending or not, having, according to this theory, no relation whatever to the phenomenon.

And as for the danger that attends boating on the firth of Forth, we must naturally suppose that, had it been considered so imminent, Major Griffiths would have at least endeavored to dissuade a youth that was placed under his protection from risking his life so imprudently.

It would be equally reasonable to explain away Dr. W——’s dream, by saying that all gentlemen who have to ride across commons are in great dread of encountering a bull—commons in general being infested by that animal!

Miss D——, a friend of mine, was some time since invited to join a pic-nic excursion into the country.

Two nights before the day fixed for the expedition, she dreamed that the carriage she was to go in was overturned down a precipice.

Impressed with her dream, she declined the excursion, confessing her reason, and advising the rest of the party to relinquish their project.

They laughed at her, and persisted in their scheme.

When, subsequently, she went to inquire how they had spent the day, she found the ladies confined to their beds from injuries received, the carriage having been overturned down a precipice.

Still, this was only a coincidence!

Another specimen of the haste with which people are willing to dispose of what they do not understand, is afforded by a case that occurred not many years since in the north of Scotland, where a murder having been committed, a man came forward, saying that he had dreamed that the pack of the murdered pedlar was hidden in a certain spot; where, on a search being made, it was actually found.

They at first concluded he was himself the assassin, but the real criminal was afterward discovered;

and it being asserted (though I have been told erroneously) that the two men had passed some time together, since the murder, in a state of intoxication, it was decided that the crime and the place of concealment had been communicated to the pretended dreamer—and all who thought otherwise were laughed at; “for why,” say the rationalists, “should not Providence have so ordered the dream as to have prevented the murder altogether?

” Who can answer that question, and whither would such a discussion lead us?

Moreover, if this faculty of presentiment be a natural one, though only imperfectly and capriciously developed, there may have been no design in the matter: it is an accident, just in the same sense as an illness is an accident; that is, not without cause, but without a cause that we can penetrate.

If, on the other hand, we have recourse to the intervention of spiritual beings, it may be answered that we are entirely ignorant of the conditions under which any such communication is possible; and that we can not therefore come to any conclusions as to why so much is done, and no more.

But there is another circumstance to be observed in considering the case, which is, that the dreamer is said to have passed some days in a state of intoxication.

Now, even supposing this had been true, it is well known that the excitement of the brain caused by intoxication has occasionally produced a very remarkable exaltation of certain faculties.

It is by means of either intoxicating draughts or vapors that the soothsayers of Lapland and Siberia place themselves in a condition to vaticinate; and we have every reason to believe that drugs, producing similar effects, were resorted to by the thaumaturgists of old, and by the witches of later days, of which I shall have more to say hereafter.

But, as a case in point, I may here allude to the phenomena exhibited in a late instance of the application of ether, by Professor Simpson, of Edinburgh, to a lady who was at the moment under circumstances not usually found very agreeable.

She said that she was amusing herself delightfully by playing over a set of quadrilles which she had known in her youth, but had long forgotten them; but she now perfectly remembered them, and had played them over several times.

Here was an instance of the exaltation of a faculty from intoxication, similar to that of the woman who, in her delirium, spoke a language which she had only heard in her childhood, and of which, in her normal state, she had no recollection.

That the inefficiency of the communication, or presentiment, or whatever it may be, is no argument against the fact of such dreams occurring, I can safely assert, from cases which have come under my own knowledge.

A

professional gentleman, whose name would be a warrant for the truth of whatever he relates, told me the following circumstance regarding himself.

He was, not very long since, at the seaside with his family, and, among the rest, he had with him one of his sons, a boy about twelve years of age, who was in the habit of bathing daily, his father accompanying him to the water-side.

This had continued during the whole of their visit, and no idea of danger or accident had ever occurred to anybody.

On the day preceding the one appointed for their departure, Mr. H——, the gentleman in question, felt himself after breakfast surprised by an unusual drowsiness, which, having vainly struggled to overcome, he at length fell asleep in his chair, and dreamed that he was attending his son to the bath as usual, when he suddenly saw the boy drowning, and that he himself had rushed into the water, dressed as he was, and brought him ashore.

Though he was quite conscious of the dream when he awoke, he attached no importance to it; he considered it merely a dream—no more; and when, some hours afterward, the boy came into the room, and said, “Now, papa, it’s time to go—this will be my last bath”—his morning’s vision did not even recur to him.

They walked down to the sea, as usual, and the boy went into the water, while the father stood composedly watching him from the beach, when suddenly the child lost his footing, a wave had caught him, and the danger of his being carried away was so imminent, that, without even waiting to take off his greatcoat, boots, or hat, Mr. H—— rushed into the water, and was only just in time to save him.

Here is a case of undoubted authenticity, which I take to be an instance of clear-seeing, or second-sight, in sleep.

The spirit, with its intuitive faculty, saw what was impending; the sleeper remembered his dream, but the intellect did not accept the warning; and, whether that warning was merely a subjective process—the clear-seeing of the spirit—or whether it was effected by any external agency, the free-will of the person concerned was not interfered with.

I quote the ensuing similar case from the “Frankfort Journal,” June 25, 1837: “A singular circumstance is said to be connected with the late attempt on the life of the archbishop of Autun.

The two nights preceding the attack, the prelate dreamed that he saw a man who was making repeated efforts to take away his life, and he awoke in extreme terror and agitation from the exertions he had made to escape the danger.

The features and appearance of the man were so clearly imprinted on his memory, that he recognised him the moment his eye fell upon him, which happened as he was coming out of church.

The bishop hid his face, and called his attendants, but the man had fired before he could make known his apprehensions.

Facts of this description are far from uncommon.

It appears that the assassin had entertained designs against the lives of the bishops of Dijon, Burgos, and Nevers.

” The following case, which occurred a few years since in the north of England, and which I have from the best authority, is remarkable from the inexorable fatality which brought about the fulfilment of the dream: Mrs. K——, a lady of family and fortune in Yorkshire, said to her son, one morning on descending to breakfast: “Henry, what are you going to do to-day?

” “I am going to hunt,” replied the young man.

“I am very glad of it,” she answered.

“I should not like you to go shooting, for I dreamed last night that you did so, and were shot.

” The son answered, gayly, that he would take care not to be shot, and the hunting party rode away; but, in the middle of the day, they returned, not having found any sport.

Mr. B——, a visiter in the house, then proposed that they should go out with their guns and try to find some woodcocks.

“I will go with you,” returned the young man, “but I must not shoot, to-day, myself; for my mother dreamed last night I was shot; and, although it is but a dream, she would be uneasy.

” They went, Mr. B—— with his gun, and Mr. K—— without.

But shortly afterward the beloved son was brought home dead: a charge from the gun of his companion had struck him in the eye, entered his brain, and killed him on the spot.

Mr. B——, the unfortunate cause of this accident and also the narrator of it, died but a few weeks since.

It is well known that the murder of Mr. Percival, by Bellingham, was seen in sleep by a gentleman at York, who actually went to London in consequence of his dream, which was several times repeated.

He arrived too late to prevent the calamity; neither would he have been believed, had he arrived earlier.

In the year 1461, a merchant was travelling toward Rome by Sienna, when he dreamed that his throat was cut.

He communicated his dream to the innkeeper, who did not like it, and advised him to pray and confess.

He did so, and then rode forth, and was presently attacked by the priest he had confessed to, who had thus learned his apprehensions.

He killed the merchant, but was betrayed, and disappointed of his gains, by the horse taking fright and running back to the inn with the money-bags.

I have related this story, though not a new one, on account of its singular resemblance to the following, which I take from a newspaper paragraph, but which I find mentioned as a fact in a continental publication:— “SINGULAR VERIFICATION OF A DREAM.

—A letter from Hamburgh contains the following curious story relative to the verification of a dream.

It appears that a locksmith’s apprentice, one morning lately, informed his master (Claude Soller) that on the previous night he dreamed that he had been assassinated on the road to Bergsdorff, a little town at about two hours’ distance from Hamburgh.

The master laughed at the young man’s credulity, and, to prove that he himself had little faith in dreams, insisted upon sending him to Bergsdorff with one hundred and forty rix dollars, which he owed to his brother-in-law, who resided in the town.

The apprentice, after in vain imploring his master to change his intention, was compelled to set out at about 11 o’clock.

On arriving at the village of Billwaerder, about half-way between Hamburgh and Bergsdorff, he recollected his dream with terror; but perceiving the baillie of the village at a little distance, talking to some of his workmen, he accosted him, and acquainted him with his singular dream, at the same time requesting that, as he had money about his person, one of his workmen might be allowed to accompany him for protection across a small wood which lay in his way.

The baillie smiled, and, in obedience to his orders, one of his men set out with the young apprentice.

The next day, the corpse of the latter was conveyed by some peasants to the baillie, along with a reaping-hook which had been found by his side, and with which the throat of the murdered youth had been cut.

The baillie immediately recognised the instrument as one which he had on the previous day given to the workman who had served as the apprentice’s guide, for the purpose of pruning some willows.

The workman was apprehended, and, on being confronted with the body of his victim, made a full confession of his crime, adding that the recital of the dream had alone prompted him to commit the horrible act.

The assassin, who is thirty-five years of age, is a native of Billwaerder, and, previously to the perpetration of the murder, had always borne an irreproachable character.

” The life of the great Harvey was saved by the governor of Dover refusing to allow him to embark for the continent with his friends.

The vessel was lost, with all on board; and the governor confessed to him, that he had detained him in consequence of an injunction he had received in a dream to do so.

There is a very curious circumstance related by Mr. Ward, in his “Illustrations of Human Life,” regarding the late Sir Evan Nepean, which I believe is perfectly authentic.

I have at least been assured, by persons well acquainted with him, that he himself testified to its truth.

Being, at the time, secretary to the admiralty, he found himself one night unable to sleep, and urged by an undefinable feeling that he must rise, though it was then only two o’clock.

He accordingly did so, and went into the park, and from that to the home office, which he entered by a private door, of which he had the key.

He had no object in doing this; and, to pass the time, he took up a newspaper that was lying on the table, and there read a paragraph to the effect that a reprieve had been despatched to York, for the men condemned for coining.

The question occurred to him, was it indeed despatched?

He examined the books and found it was not; and it was only by the most energetic proceedings that the thing was carried through, and reached York in time to save the men.

Is not this like the agency of a protecting spirit, urging Sir Evan to this discovery, in order that these men might be spared, or that those concerned might escape the remorse they would have suffered for their criminal neglect?

It is a remarkable fact, that somnambules of the highest order believe themselves attended by a protecting spirit.

To those who do not believe, because they have never witnessed, the phenomena of somnambulism, or who look upon the disclosures of persons in that state as the mere raving of hallucination, this authority will necessarily have no weight; but even to such persons the universal coincidence must be considered worthy of observation, though it be regarded only as a symptom of disease.

I

believe I have remarked elsewhere, that many persons, who have not the least tendency to somnambulism or any proximate malady, have all their lives an intuitive feeling of such a guardianship; and, not to mention Socrates and the ancients, there are, besides, numerous recorded cases in modern times, in which persons, not somnambulic, have declared themselves to have seen and held communication with their spiritual protector.

The case of the girl called Ludwiger, who, in her infancy, had lost her speech and the use of her limbs, and who was earnestly committed by her mother, when dying, to the care of her elder sisters, is known to many.

These young women piously fulfilled their engagement till the wedding-day of one of them caused them to forget their charge.

On recollecting it, at length, they hastened home, and found the girl, to their amazement, sitting up in her bed, and she told them that her mother had been there and given her food.

She never spoke again, and soon after died.

This circumstance occurred at Dessau, not many years since, and is, according to Schubert, a perfectly-established fact in that neighborhood.

The girl at no other period of her life exhibited any similar phenomena, nor had she ever displayed any tendency to spectral illusions.

The wife of a respectable citizen, named Arnold, at Heilbronn, held constant communications with her protecting spirit, who warned her of impending dangers, approaching visiters, and so forth.

He was only once visible to her, and it was in the form of an old man; but his presence was felt by others as well as herself, and they were sensible that the air was stirred, as by a breath.

Jung Stilling publishes a similar account, which was bequeathed to him by a very worthy and pious minister of the church.

The subject of the guardianship was his own wife, and the spirit first appeared to her after her marriage, in the year 1799, as a child, attired in a white robe, while she was busy in her bed-chamber.

She stretched out her hand to take hold of the figure, but it disappeared.

It frequently visited her afterward, and in answer to her inquiries it said, “I died in my childhood!

” It came to her at all hours, whether alone or in company, and not only at home, but elsewhere, and even when travelling, assisting her when in danger; it sometimes floated in the air, spake to her in its own language, which somehow, she says, she understood, and could speak, too; and it was once seen by another person.

He bade her call him _Immanuel_.

She earnestly begged him to show himself to her husband, but he alleged that it would make him ill, and cause his death.

On asking him _wherefore_, he answered, “Few persons are able to see such things.

” Her two children, one six years old, and the other younger, saw this figure as well as herself.

Schubert, in his “Geschichte der Seele,” relates that the ecclesiastical councillor Schwartz, of Heidelberg, when about twelve years of age, and at a time that he was learning the Greek language, but knew very little about it, dreamed that his grandmother, a very pious woman, to whom he had been much attached, appeared to him, and unfolded a parchment inscribed with Greek characters which foretold the fortunes of his future life.

He read it off with as much facility as if it had been in German, but being dissatisfied with some particulars of the prediction, he begged they might be changed.

His grandmother answered him in Greek, whereupon he awoke, remembering the dream, but, in spite of all the efforts to arrest them, he was unable to recall the particulars the parchment had contained.

The answer of his grandmother, however, he was able to grasp before it had fled his memory, and he wrote down the words; but the meaning of them he could not discover without the assistance of his grammar and lexicon.

Being interpreted, they proved to be these: “As it is prophesied to me, so I prophesy to thee!

” He had written the words in a volume of Gessner’s works, being the first thing he laid his hand on; and he often philosophized on them in later days, when they chanced to meet his eye.

How, he says, should he have been able to read and produce that in his sleep, which, in his waking state, he would have been quite incapable of?

“Even long after, when I left school,” he adds, “I could scarcely have put together such a sentence;

and it is extremely remarkable that the feminine form was observed in conformity with the sex of the speaker.

” The words were these: αῦτα Χρησμ῾ωδηθεισα Χρησμωδὲω σοι.

Grotius relates, that when Mr. de Saumaise was councillor of the parliament at Dijon, a person, who knew not a word of Greek, brought him a paper on which was written some words in that language, but not in the character.

He said that a voice had uttered them to him in the night, and that he had written them down, imitating the sound as well as he could.

Mons de Saumaise made out that the signification of the words was, “Begone!

do you not see that death impends?

” Without comprehending what danger was predicted, the person obeyed the mandate and departed.

On that night the house that he had been lodging in fell to the ground.

The difficulty in these two cases is equally great, apply to it whatever explanation we may; for even if the admonitions proceeded from some friendly guardian, as we might be inclined to conclude, it is not easy to conceive why they should have been communicated in a language the persons did not understand.