Movatterモバイル変換

THE PREFACE.

This relation is matter of fact, and attended with such circumstances,as may induce any reasonable man to believe it. It was sent by agentleman, a justice of peace, at Maidstone, in Kent, and a veryintelligent person, to his friend in London, as it is here worded;which discourse is attested by a very sober and understandinggentlewoman, a kinswoman of the said gentleman's, who lives inCanterbury, within a few doors of the house in which the within-namedMrs. Bargrave lives; who believes his kinswoman to be of so discerninga spirit, as not to be put upon by any fallacy; and who positivelyassured him that the whole matter, as it is related and laid down, isreally true; and what she herself had in the same words, as near asmay be, from Mrs. Bargrave's own mouth, who, she knows, had no reasonto invent and publish such a story, or any design to forge and tell alie, being a woman of much honesty and virtue, and her whole life acourse, as it were, of piety. The use which we ought to make of it, isto consider, that there is a life to come after this, and a just God,who will retribute to every one according to the deeds done in thebody; and therefore to reflect upon our past course of life we haveled in the world; that our time is short and uncertain; and that ifwe would escape the punishment of the ungodly, and receive the rewardof the righteous, which is the laying hold of eternal life, we ought,for the time to come, to return to God by a speedy repentance, ceasingto do evil, and learning to do well: to seek after God early, ifhappily he may be found of us, and lead such lives for the future, asmay be well pleasing in his sight.

A RELATION
OF THE
APPARITION OF MRS. VEAL.

This thing is so rare in all its circumstances, and on so goodauthority, that my reading and conversation has not given me anythinglike it: it is fit to gratify the most ingenious and serious inquirer.Mrs. Bargrave is the person to whom Mrs. Veal appeared after herdeath; she is my intimate friend, and I can avouch for her reputation,for these last fifteen or sixteen years, on my own knowledge; and Ican confirm the good character she had from her youth, to the time ofmy acquaintance. Though, since this relation, she is calumniated bysome people, that are friends to the brother of this Mrs. Veal, whoappeared; who think the relation of this appearance to be areflection, and endeavour what they can to blast Mrs. Bargrave'sreputation, and to laugh the story out of countenance. But by thecircumstances thereof, and the cheerful disposition of Mrs. Bargrave,notwithstanding the ill-usage of a very wicked husband, there is notyet the least sign of dejection in her face; nor did I ever hear herlet fall a desponding or murmuring expression; nay, not when actuallyunder her husband's barbarity; which I have been witness to, andseveral other persons of undoubted reputation.

Now you must know, Mrs. Veal was a maiden gentlewoman of about thirtyyears of age, and for some years last past had been troubled withfits; which were perceived coming on her, by her going off from herdiscourse very abruptly to some impertinence. She was maintained by anonly brother, and kept his house in Dover. She was a very pious woman,and her brother a very sober man to all appearance; but now he doesall he can to null or quash the story. Mrs. Veal was intimatelyacquainted with Mrs. Bargrave from her childhood. Mrs. Veal'scircumstances were then mean; her father did not take care of hischildren as he ought, so that they were exposed to hardships; and Mrs.Bargrave, in those days, had as unkind a father, though she wantedneither for food nor clothing, whilst Mrs. Veal wanted for both;insomuch that she would often say, Mrs. Bargrave, you are not only thebest, but the only friend I have in the world, and no circumstance oflife shall ever dissolve my friendship. They would often condole eachother's adverse fortunes, and read together Drelincourt upon Death,and other good books; and so, like two Christian friends, theycomforted each other under their sorrow.

Some time after, Mr. Veal's friends got him a place in thecustom-house at Dover, which occasioned Mrs. Veal, by little andlittle, to fall off from her intimacy with Mrs. Bargrave, though therewas never any such thing as a quarrel; but an indifferency came on bydegrees, till at last Mrs. Bargrave had not seen her in two years anda half; though above a twelvemonth of the time Mrs. Bargrave hath beenabsent from Dover, and this last half year has been in Canterburyabout two months of the time, dwelling in a house of her own.

In this house, on the 8th of September, 1705, she was sitting alone inthe forenoon, thinking over her unfortunate life, and arguing herselfinto a due resignation to providence, though her condition seemedhard. And, said she, I have been provided for hitherto, and doubt notbut I shall be still; and am well satisfied that my afflictions shallend when it is most fit for me: and then took up her sewing-work,which she had no sooner done, but she hears a knocking at the door.She went to see who was there, and this proved to be Mrs. Veal, herold friend, who was in a riding-habit. At that moment of time theclock struck twelve at noon.

Madam, says Mrs. Bargrave, I am surprised to see you, you have been solong a stranger; but told her, she was glad to see her, and offered tosalute her; which Mrs. Veal complied with, till their lips almosttouched; and then Mrs. Veal drew her hand across her own eyes, andsaid, I am not very well; and so waived it. She told Mrs. Bargrave,she was going a journey, and had a great mind to see her first. But,says Mrs. Bargrave, how came you to take a journey alone? I am amazedat it, because I know you have a fond brother. Oh! says Mrs. Veal, Igave my brother the slip, and came away because I had so great adesire to see you before I took my journey. So Mrs. Bargrave went inwith her, into another room within the first, and Mrs. Veal sat herdown in an elbow-chair, in which Mrs. Bargrave was sitting when sheheard Mrs. Veal knock. Then says Mrs. Veal, My dear friend, I am cometo renew our old friendship again, and beg your pardon for my breachof it; and if you can forgive me, you are the best of women. O, saysMrs. Bargrave, do not mention such a thing; I have not had an uneasythought about it; I can easily forgive it. What did you think of me?said Mrs. Veal. Says Mrs. Bargrave, I thought you were like the restof the world, and that prosperity had made you forget yourself and me.Then Mrs. Veal reminded Mrs. Bargrave of the many friendly offices shedid her in former days, and much of the conversation they had witheach other in the times of their adversity; what books they read, andwhat comfort, in particular, they received from Drelincourt's Book ofDeath, which was the best, she said, on that subject ever written. Shealso mentioned Dr. Sherlock, the two Dutch books which weretranslated, written upon death, and several others. But Drelincourt,she said, had the clearest notions of death, and of the future state,of any who had handled that subject. Then she asked Mrs. Bargrave,whether she had Drelincourt. She said, Yes. Says Mrs. Veal, Fetch it.And so Mrs. Bargrave goes up stairs and brings it down. Says Mrs.Veal, Dear Mrs. Bargrave, if the eyes of our faith were as open as theeyes of our body, we should see numbers of angels about us for ourguard. The notions we have of heaven now, are nothing like what it is,as Drelincourt says; therefore be comforted under your afflictions,and believe that the Almighty has a particular regard to you; and thatyour afflictions are marks of God's favour; and when they have donethe business they are sent for, they shall be removed from you. And,believe me, my dear friend, believe what I say to you, one minute offuture happiness will infinitely reward you for all your sufferings.For, I can never believe, (and claps her hand upon her knee with greatearnestness, which indeed ran through most of her discourse,) thatever God will suffer you to spend all your days in this afflictedstate; but be assured, that your afflictions shall leave you, or youthem, in a short time. She spake in that pathetical and heavenlymanner, that Mrs. Bargrave wept several times, she was so deeplyaffected with it.

Then Mrs. Veal mentioned Dr. Kenrick's Ascetick, at the end of whichhe gives an account of the lives of the primitive Christians. Theirpattern she recommended to our imitation, and said, their conversationwas not like this of our age: For now, says she, there is nothing butfrothy, vain discourse, which is far different from theirs. Theirs wasto edification, and to build one another up in faith; so that theywere not as we are, nor are we as they were: but, says she, we oughtto do as they did. There was an hearty friendship among them; butwhere is it now to be found? Says Mrs. Bargrave, It is hard indeed tofind a true friend in these days. Says Mrs. Veal, Mr. Norris has afine copy of verses, called Friendship in Perfection, which Iwonderfully admire. Have you seen the book? says Mrs. Veal. No, saysMrs. Bargrave, but I have the verses of my own writing out. Have you?says Mrs. Veal, then fetch them. Which she did from above stairs, andoffered them to Mrs. Veal to read, who refused, and waived the thing,saying, holding down her head would make it ache; and then desiredMrs. Bargrave to read them to her, which she did. As they wereadmiring friendship, Mrs. Veal said, Dear Mrs. Bargrave, I shall loveyou for ever. In these verses there is twice used the word Elysian,Ah! says Mrs. Veal, these poets have such names for heaven. She wouldoften draw her hand across her own eyes, and say, Mrs. Bargrave, donot you think I am mightily impaired by my fits? No, says Mrs.Bargrave, I think you look as well as ever I knew you. After all thisdiscourse, which the apparition put in much finer words than Mrs.Bargrave said she could pretend to, and as much more than she canremember, (for it cannot be thought, that an hour and three quarters'conversation could all be retained, though the main of it she thinksshe does,) she said to Mrs. Bargrave, she would have her write aletter to her brother, and tell him, she would have him give rings tosuch and such; and that there was a purse of gold in her cabinet, andthat she would have two broad pieces given to her cousin Watson.

Talking at this rate, Mrs. Bargrave thought that a fit was coming uponher, and so placed herself in a chair just before her knees, to keepher from falling to the ground, if her fits should occasion it: forthe elbow-chair, she thought, would keep her from falling on eitherside. And to divert Mrs. Veal, as she thought, took hold of hergown-sleeve several times, and commended it. Mrs. Veal told her, itwas a scowered silk, and newly made up. But for all this, Mrs. Vealpersisted in her request, and told Mrs. Bargrave, she must not denyher: and she would have her tell her brother all their conversation,when she had opportunity. Dear Mrs. Veal, says Mrs. Bargrave, thisseems so impertinent, that I cannot tell how to comply with it; andwhat a mortifying story will our conversation be to a young gentleman?Why, says Mrs. Bargrave, it is much better, methinks to do ityourself. No, says Mrs. Veal, though it seems impertinent to you now,you will see more reason for it hereafter. Mrs. Bargrave then, tosatisfy her importunity, was going to fetch a pen and ink; but Mrs.Veal said, Let it alone now, but do it when I am gone; but you must besure to do it: which was one of the last things she enjoined her atparting; and so she promised her.

Then Mrs. Veal asked for Mrs. Bargrave's daughter; she said, she wasnot at home: But if you have a mind to see her, says Mrs. Bargrave,I'll send for her. Do, says Mrs. Veal. On which she left her, and wentto a neighbour's to see for her; and by the time Mrs. Bargrave wasreturning, Mrs. Veal was got without the door in the street, in theface of the beast-market, on a Saturday, which is market-day, andstood ready to part, as soon as Mrs. Bargrave came to her. She askedher, why she was in such haste. She said she must be going, thoughperhaps she might not go her journey till Monday; and told Mrs.Bargrave, she hoped she should see her again at her cousin Watson's,before she went whither she was going. Then she said, she would takeher leave of her, and walked from Mrs. Bargrave in her view, till aturning interrupted the sight of her, which was three quarters afterone in the afternoon.

Mrs. Veal died the 7th of September, at twelve o'clock at noon, ofher fits, and had not above four hours' senses before her death, inwhich time she received the sacrament. The next day after Mrs. Veal'sappearing, being Sunday, Mrs. Bargrave was mightily indisposed with acold, and a sore throat, that she could not go out that day; but onMonday morning she sent a person to captain Watson's, to know if Mrs.Veal was there. They wondered at Mrs. Bargrave's inquiry; and sent herword, that she was not there, nor was expected. At this answer Mrs.Bargrave told the maid she had certainly mistook the name, or madesome blunder. And though she was ill, she put on her hood, and wentherself to captain Watson's though she knew none of the family, to seeif Mrs. Veal was there or not. They said, they wondered at her asking,for that she had not been in town; they were sure, if she had, shewould have been there. Says Mrs. Bargrave, I am sure she was with meon Saturday almost two hours. They said, it was impossible; for theymust have seen her if she had. In comes Capt. Watson, while they werein dispute, and said, that Mrs. Veal was certainly dead, and herescutcheons were making. This strangely surprised Mrs. Bargrave, whenshe sent to the person immediately who had the care of them, and foundit true. Then she related the whole story to captain Watson's family,and what gown she had on, and how striped; and that Mrs. Veal toldher, it was scowered. Then Mrs. Watson cried out, You have seen herindeed, for none knew, but Mrs. Veal and myself, that the gown wasscowered. And Mrs. Watson owned, that she described the gown exactly:For, said she, I helped her to make it up. This Mrs. Watson blazed allabout the town, and avouched the demonstration of the truth of Mrs.Bargrave's seeing Mrs. Veal's apparition. And captain Watson carriedtwo gentlemen immediately to Mrs. Bargrave's house, to hear therelation of her own mouth. And when it spread so fast, that gentlemenand persons of quality, the judicious and sceptical part of theworld, flocked in upon her, it at last became such a task, that shewas forced to go out of the way. For they were, in general, extremelysatisfied of the truth of the thing, and plainly saw that Mrs.Bargrave was no hypocondriac; for she always appears with such acheerful air, and pleasing mien, that she has gained the favour andesteem of all the gentry; and it is thought a great favour, if theycan but get the relation from her own mouth. I should have told youbefore, that Mrs. Veal told Mrs. Bargrave, that her sister andbrother-in-law were just come down from London to see her. Says Mrs.Bargrave, How came you to order matters so strangely? It could not behelped, says Mrs. Veal. And her brother and sister did come to seeher, and entered the town of Dover just as Mrs. Veal was expiring.Mrs. Bargrave, asked her, whether she would drink some tea. Says Mrs.Veal, I do not care if I do; but I'll warrant you, this mad fellow,(meaning Mrs. Bargrave's husband,) has broke all your trinkets. But,says Mrs. Bargrave, I'll get something to drink in for all that; butMrs. Veal waived it, and said, It is no matter, let it alone; and soit passed.

All the time I sat with Mrs. Bargrave, which was some hours, sherecollected fresh sayings of Mrs. Veal. And one material thing moreshe told Mrs. Bargrave, that old Mr. Breton allowed Mrs. Veal tenpounds a year; which was a secret, and unknown to Mrs. Bargrave, tillMrs. Veal told it her.

Mrs. Bargrave never varies in her story; which puzzles those who doubtof the truth, or are unwilling to believe it. A servant in theneighbour's yard, adjoining to Mrs. Bargrave's house, heard hertalking to somebody an hour of the time Mrs. Veal was with her. Mrs.Bargrave went out to her next neighbour's the very moment she partedwith Mrs. Veal, and told her what ravishing conversation she had withan old friend, and told the whole of it. Drelincourt's Book of Deathis, since this happened, bought up strangely. And it is to beobserved, that notwithstanding all the trouble and fatigue Mrs.Bargrave has undergone upon this account, she never took the value ofa farthing, nor suffered her daughter to take anything of anybody, andtherefore can have no interest in telling the story.

But Mr. Veal does what he can to stifle the matter, and said, he wouldsee Mrs. Bargrave; but yet it is certain matter of fact that he hasbeen at captain Watson's since the death of his sister, and yet neverwent near Mrs. Bargrave; and some of his friends report her to be aliar, and that she knew of Mr. Breton's ten pounds a year. But theperson who pretends to say so, has the reputation of a notorious liar,among persons whom I know to be of undoubted credit. Now Mr. Veal ismore of a gentleman than to say she lies; but says, a bad husband hascrazed her. But she needs only present herself, and it willeffectually confute that pretence. Mr. Veal says, he asked his sisteron her death-bed, whether she had a mind to dispose of anything? Andshe said, No. Now, the things which Mrs. Veal's apparition would havedisposed of, were so trifling, and nothing of justice aimed at intheir disposal, that the design of it appears to me to be only inorder to make Mrs. Bargrave so to demonstrate the truth of herappearance, as to satisfy the world of the reality thereof, as to whatshe had seen and heard; and to secure her reputation among thereasonable and understanding part of mankind. And then again, Mr. Vealowns, that there was a purse of gold; but it was not found in hercabinet, but in a comb-box. This looks improbable; for that Mrs.Watson owned, that Mrs. Veal was so very careful of the key of thecabinet, that she would trust nobody with it. And if so, no doubt shewould not trust her gold out of it. And Mrs. Veal's often drawing herhand over her eyes, and asking Mrs. Bargrave whether her fits had notimpaired her, looks to me as if she did it on purpose to remind Mrs.Bargrave of her fits, to prepare her not to think it strange that sheshould put her upon writing to her brother to dispose of rings andgold, which looked so much like a dying person's request; and it tookaccordingly with Mrs. Bargrave, as the effects of her fits coming uponher; and was one of the many instances of her wonderful love to her,and care of her, that she should not be affrighted; which indeedappears in her whole management, particularly in her coming to her inthe day-time, waiving the salutation, and when she was alone; and thenthe manner of her parting, to prevent a second attempt to salute her.

Now, why Mr. Veal should think this relation a reflection, as it isplain he does, by his endeavouring to stifle it, I cannot imagine;because the generality believe her to be a good spirit, her discoursewas so heavenly. Her two great errands were to comfort Mrs. Bargravein her affliction, and to ask her forgiveness for the breach offriendship, and with a pious discourse to encourage her. So that,after all, to suppose that Mrs. Bargrave could hatch such an inventionas this from Friday noon till Saturday noon, supposing that she knewof Mrs. Veal's death the very first moment, without jumblingcircumstances, and without any interest too; she must be more witty,fortunate, and wicked too, than any indifferent person, I dare say,will allow. I asked Mrs. Bargrave several times, if she was sure shefelt the gown? She answered modestly, If my senses be to be relied on,I am sure of it. I asked her, if she heard a sound when she clappedher hand upon her knee? She said, she did not remember she did; butsaid she appeared to be as much a substance as I did, who talked withher. And I may, said she, be as soon persuaded, that your apparitionis talking to me now, as that I did not really see her: for I wasunder no manner of fear, and received her as a friend, and parted withher as such. I would not, says she, give one farthing to make any onebelieve it: I have no interest in it; nothing but trouble is entailedupon me for a long time, for aught I know; and had it not come tolight by accident, it would never have been made public. But now, shesays, she will make her own private use of it, and keep herself out ofthe way as much as she can; and so she has done since. She says, Shehad a gentleman who came thirty miles to her to hear the relation; andthat she had told it to a room full of people at a time. Severalparticular gentlemen have had the story from Mrs. Bargrave's ownmouth.

This thing has very much affected me, and I am as well satisfied, as Iam of the best-grounded matter of fact. And why we should disputematter of fact, because we cannot solve things of which we can have nocertain or demonstrative notions, seems strange to me. Mrs. Bargrave'sauthority and sincerity alone, would have been undoubted in any othercase.

TO THE READER.

The origin of the foregoing curious story seems to have been asfollows:—

An adventurous bookseller had ventured to print a considerable editionof a work by the Reverend Charles Drelincourt, minister of theCalvinist church in Paris, and translated by M. D'Assigny, under thetitle of "The Christian's Defence against the Fear of Death, withseveral directions how to prepare ourselves to die well." But howevercertain the prospect of death, it is not so agreeable (unfortunately)as to invite the eager contemplation of the public; and Drelincourt'sbook, being neglected, lay a dead stock on the hands of the publisher.In this emergency, he applied to De Foe to assist him, (by dint ofsuch means as were then, as well as now, pretty well understood in theliterary world,) in rescuing the unfortunate book from the literarydeath to which general neglect seemed about to consign it.

De Foe's genius and audacity devised a plan which, for assurance andingenuity, defied even the powers of Mr. Puff in theCritic: for whobut himself would have thought of summoning up a ghost from the graveto bear witness in favour of a halting body of divinity? There is amatter-of-fact, business-like style in the whole account of thetransaction, which bespeaks ineffable powers of self-possession. Thenarrative is drawn up "by a gentleman, aJustice of Peace atMaidstone, in Kent, a very intelligent person." And, moreover, "thediscourse is attested by a very sober gentlewoman, who lives inCanterbury, within a few doors of the house in which Mrs. Bargravelives." The Justice believes his kinswoman to be of so discerning aspirit, as not to be put upon by any fallacy—and the kinswomanpositively assures the Justice, "that the whole matter, as it isrelated and laid down, is really true, and what she herself heard, asnear as may be, from Mrs. Bargrave's own mouth, who, she knows, hadno reason to invent or publish such a story, or any design to forgeand tell a lie, being a woman of so much honesty and virtue, and herwhole life a course, as it were, of piety." Scepticism itself couldnot resist this triple court of evidence so artfully combined, theJustice attesting for the discerning spirit of the sober andunderstanding gentlewoman his kinswoman, and his kinswoman becomingbail for the veracity of Mrs. Bargrave. And here, gentle reader,admire the simplicity of those days. Had Mrs. Veal's visit to herfriend happened in our time, the conductors of the daily press wouldhave given the word, and seven gentlemen unto the said pressbelonging, would, with an obedient start, have made off for Kingston,for Canterbury, for Dover,—for Kamtschatka if necessary,—to pose theJustice, cross-examine Mrs. Bargrave, confront the sober andunderstanding kinswoman, and dig Mrs. Veal up from her grave, ratherthan not get to the bottom of the story. But in our time we doubt andscrutinize; our ancestors wondered and believed.

Before the story is commenced, the understanding gentlewoman, (not theJustice of Peace,) who is the reporter, takes some pains to repel theobjections made against the story by some of the friends of Mrs.Veal's brother, who consider the marvel as an aspersion on theirfamily, and do what they can to laugh it out of countenance. Indeed,it is allowed, with admirable impartiality, that Mr. Veal is too muchof a gentleman to suppose Mrs. Bargrave invented the story—scandalitself could scarce have supposed that—although one notorious liar,who is chastised towards the conclusion of the story, ventures tothrow out such an insinuation. No reasonable or respectable person,however, could be found to countenance the suspicion, and Mr. Vealhimself opined that Mrs. Bargrave had been driven crazy by a cruelhusband, and dreamed the whole story of the apparition. Now all thisis sufficiently artful. To have vouched the fact as universally known,and believed by every one,nem. con., would not have been half sosatisfactory to a sceptic as to allow fairly that the narrative hadbeen impugned, and hint at the character of one of those sceptics, andthe motives of another, as sufficient to account for their want ofbelief. Now to the fact itself.

Mrs. Bargrave and Mrs. Veal had been friends in youth, and hadprotested their attachment should last as long as they lived; but whenMrs. Veal's brother obtained an office in the customs at Dover, somecessation of their intimacy ensued, "though without any positivequarrel." Mrs. Bargrave had removed to Canterbury, and was residing ina house of her own, when she was suddenly interrupted by a visit fromMrs. Veal, as she was sitting in deep contemplation of certaindistresses of her own. The visitor was in a riding-habit, andannounced herself as prepared for a distant journey, (which seems tointimate that spirits have a considerable distance to go before theyarrive at their appointed station, and that the females at least puton ahabit for the occasion.) The spirit, for such was the seemingMrs. Veal, continued to waive the ceremony of salutation, both ingoing and coming, which will remind the reader of a ghostly lover'sreply to his mistress in the fine old Scottish ballad:—

They then began to talk in the homely style of middle-aged ladies, andMrs. Veal proses concerning the conversations they had formerly held,and the books they had read together. Her very recent experienceprobably led Mrs. Veal to talk of death, and the books written on thesubject, and she pronounced,ex cathedrâ, as a dead person was bestentitled to do, that "Drelincourt's book on Death was the best book onthe subject ever written." She also mentioned Dr. Sherlock, two Dutchbooks which had been translated, and several others; but Drelincourt,she said, had the clearest notions of death and the future state ofany who had handled that subject. She then asked for the work [wemarvel the edition and impress had not been mentioned,] and lecturedon it with great eloquence and affection. Dr. Kenrick'sAscetick wasalso mentioned with approbation by this critical spectre, [theDoctor's work was no doubt a tenant of the shelf in some favouritepublisher's shop]; and Mr. Norris'sPoem on Friendship, a work,which I doubt, though honoured with a ghost's approbation, we may nowseek for as vainly as Correlli tormented his memory to recover thesonata which the devil played to him in a dream. Presently after, fromformer habits we may suppose, the guest desires a cup of tea; but,bethinking herself of her new character, escapes from her own proposalby recollecting that Mr. Bargrave was in the habit of breaking hiswife's china. It would have been indeed strangely out of character ifthe spirit had lunched, or breakfasted upon tea and toast. Such aconsummation would have sounded as ridiculous as if the statue of thecommander inDon Juan had not only accepted of the invitation of thelibertine to supper, but had also committed a beef-steak to his flintyjaws and stomach of adamant. A little more conversation ensued of aless serious nature, and tending to show that even the passage fromlife to death leaves the female anxiety about person and dresssomewhat alive. The ghost asked Mrs. Bargrave whether she did notthink her very much altered, and Mrs. Bargrave of course complimentedher on her good looks. Mrs. Bargrave also admired the gown which Mrs.Veal wore, and as a mark of her perfectly restored confidence, thespirit let her into the important secret, that it was ascouredsilk, and lately made up. She informed her also of another secret,namely, that one Mr. Bretton had allowed her ten pounds a year; and,lastly, she requested that Mrs. Bargrave would write to her brother,and tell him how to distribute her mourning rings, and mentioned therewas a purse of gold in her cabinet. She expressed some wish to seeMrs. Bargrave's daughter; but when that good lady went to the nextdoor to seek her, she found on her return the guest leaving the house.She had got without the door, in the street, in the face of the beastmarket, on a Saturday, which is market day, and stood ready to part.She said she must be going, as she had to call upon her cousin Watson,(this appears to be agratis dictum on the part of the ghost,) and,maintaining the character of mortality to the last, she quietly turnedthe corner, and walked out of sight.

Then came the news of Mrs. Veal's having died the day before at noon.Says Mrs. Bargrave, "I am sure she was with me on Saturday almost twohours." And in comes captain Watson, and says Mrs. Veal was certainlydead. And then come all the pieces of evidence, and especially thestriped silk gown. Then Mrs. Watson cried out, "You have seen herindeed, for none knew but Mrs. Veal and I that that gown was scoured;"and she cried that the gown was described exactly, for, said she, "Ihelped her to make it up." And next we have the silly attempts made todiscredit the history. Even Mr. Veal, her brother, was obliged toallow that the gold was found, but with a difference, and pretended itwas not found in a cabinet, but elsewhere; and, in short, we have allthe gossip ofsays I, andthinks I, andsays she, andthinksshe, which disputed matters usually excite in a country town.

When we have thus turned the tale, the seam without, it may be thoughttoo ridiculous to have attracted notice. But whoever will read it astold by De Foe himself, will agree that, could the thing have happenedin reality, so it would have been told. The sobering the wholesupernatural visit into the language of middle or low life, gives itan air of probability even in its absurdity. The ghost of anexciseman's housekeeper, and a seamstress, were not to converse likeBrutus with his Evil Genius. And the circumstances of scoured silks,broken tea-china, and such like, while they are the natural topics ofsuch persons' conversation, would, one might have thought, be the lastwhich an inventor would have introduced into a pretended narrativebetwixt the dead and living. In short, the whole is so distinctlycircumstantial, that, were it not for the impossibility, or extremeimprobability at least, of such an occurrence, the evidence could notbut support the story.

The effect was most wonderful.Drelincourt upon Death, attested byone who could speak from experience, took an unequalled run. Thecopies had hung on the bookseller's hands as heavy as a pile of leadbullets. They now traversed the town in every direction, like the sameballs discharged from a field-piece. In short, the object of Mrs.Veal's apparition was perfectly attained.—See The Miscellaneous ProseWorks of Sir Walter Scott, Bart. vol. iv. p. 305. ed. 1827.