"My dear Steifenhausen," he said, "all shall be explained after dinner."

'My good friend," said the second, "I still bear my wretched exist

ence.

66

"I'm not yet tired of my youth, Mr. Steifenhausen," said the third. Why, gentlemen, I'm perfectly astounded. What means this ?" I said, indignantly.

"Forbear, forbear, my good fellow," said the old gentleman, disarming me of my ire.

When the cloth had been removed, and the wine placed upon the table, my friend thus addressed me::

"In those two gentlemen, Mr. Steifenhausen, you behold my son and grandson, who have been allowed, by those who were acquainted with me in my earlier days, to be the exact counterparts of myself at the ages at which they have respectively arrived. I owe you, perhaps, some apology for the deception I have practised upon you, but it was suggested by two circumstances. Firstly, by your allusion to the elixir (a project, I may tell you, I had abandoned for a great number of years), and which I thought was a sly piece of sarcasm on your part.; and secondly, because I thought it would be the means of educing some useful truths. I am sure you will forgive me, Steifenhausen, for you know I was always addicted to those freaks even in my younger days."

"I never heard of your marriage," I said.

"It has not been revealed to my closest friends," said Alterkerl. "I am perfectly satisfied to be seventy," added Alterkerl No. 1. "And I fifty," said No. 2.

"And I thirty," said No. 3.

As the wine passed round, I confess my indignation gradually subsided, and before I took my leave of the family, I partly promised to spend a month with them during the following summer.

I have, perhaps, a little duty still to perform. I earnestly but respectfully invite all those who wish themselves young again to read this paper and reflect.

GHOST STORIES.

"ALL experience is for it, all reason is against it," was the remark of Dr. Johnson on the subject of a belief in apparitions. We will not now stop to inquire how far it may share in that want of accuracy which was so often sacrificed by the doctor to epigrammatic point; it is undoubtedly true on the whole; for, while we find it difficult to refuse credence to the apparently irrefragable evidence which is adduced in support of certain cases of the kind, yet, on the other hand, when we consider the question as a whole, our reason shrinks from allowing the occurrence of supernatural events, in which the seeming absence of purpose is not compensated by any express revelation. Still we have no doubt that the believers in the appearance of spirits, either open or secret, constitute a large majority of mankind; there is an auxiliary at work in favour of such a creed more potent than reason, and beyond the reach of all cavil

or suspicion-in the heart of man is to be found that deeply-seated interest in the invisible world, which is at the root of all such superstitions. The idea that the spirits of men, when their mortal race is run, should still be cognisant of what passes upon this earth, and should return at times to visit the scenes of their former existence, is one that cannot fail to enlist our earthly affections on its behalf; much more when we come to reflect that the spirits of departed parents, lovers, and friends, may still move us, though unseen by us, and watch our actions as of old, do we feel that the Valley of the Shadow of Death is wellnigh bridged over, and that death itself is but a passing sleep. Reason, on the one hand, may assail, or the testimony of ages, on the other, may strengthen such pleasing sentiments, but their origin is beyond the reach of the former, and is independent of the latter, and will keep up a perpetual and intense interest in the subject, we believe, as long as the world endures. Neither can any but a thorough disbeliever in the separate existence of soul and body, apply Hume's well-known dictum on the miracles to the subject before us. If there are spirits existing in another world, it is more likely that they should occasionally have visited this one, than that so great a number of witnesses, from the beginning of the world to the present time, should have been deceived or deceivers. For ourselves, we confess we have a leaning towards this one superstition; to speak of it superficially, it is at all events a reverend and affectionate one, and although in many current and well-authenticated instances the re-appearance of the dead has seemed to have had little or no connexion with the living, yet nevertheless the fact of such re-appearance at all, were it proved, is sufficient to show that the link is not wholly broken, and that human sympathies exist beyond the grave. I trust the reader will require no further apology for a chapter on Ghost Stories, in which I purpose to narrate one or two which are not likely, I think, to be generally known, which appear to my own mind to fulfil all the requisite conditions of credibility, and which cannot but force the disbeliever to declare that he will admit no evidence whatsoever in support of such a theory. The first that I shall relate, is one that was told me some years ago by a person who had himself been the eye-witness of the circumstances which he narrated. He was a strong-minded man, of a liberal, and perhaps rather free-thinking turn of mind, and one as little likely to become the victim of any delusions of this kind as can well be imagined. He told me that between twenty and thirty years ago, being then in the army, he was quartered at a small town in the west of England, with a small party of soldiers. It was a very retired neighbourhood; but, as frequently happens, the inhabitants were hospitable and sociable, and did all in their power to enliven his somewhat lonely

situation.

One day, in the middle of summer, he had been invited to join in a pic-nic, which was to take place in the afternoon, at a wood which lay two or three miles out of the town. When the day arrived, he found he had business which would detain him till the evening, but he promised to walk over and join the party as soon as he could get free from it. He set out accordingly, on a beautiful summer evening, about seven o'clock, and took his way across the fields towards the appointed spot. He had got about half-way, and had just crossed over

a large open grass field, when, on happening to look back, as he was in the act of getting over the stile, he saw, much to his astonishment, in the centre of the field, a female figure pacing up and down, and leading a child by her side. The lady, for such he said she appeared to be, wore no bonnet, and her hair, which was long and dark, fell loosely over her shoulders. Curious as to what she could be doing there, my informant watched her for some little time; at first he was inclined to think that, notwithstanding her superior appearance, she must be one of the peasantry, or perhaps a farmer's daughter, employed in gathering mushrooms; but no, she did not seem to be searching for anything, but continued to walk slowly backwards and forwards, without looking to the right or to the left. He at last came to the conclusion that she must be some unfortunate person of unsound mind, and under this conviction he resumed his walk. He can scarcely, he says, explain the nature of the feelings which restrained him from approaching her; it was not merely the disagreeableness of an encounter with a mad woman, it was something akin to a feeling of awe, which he could not account for to himself. He was not conscious at the time of thinking he had seen anything supernatural, but he felt himself in an uneasy and excited state of mind, which the gay party he soon afterwards joined was scarcely able to banish. At length, however, under the genial influence of bright eyes and festive cheer, he began to laugh at himself for indulging in his former more serious feelings, and presently began to relate what he had seen to the assembled company. As he proceeded, however, he observed one or two of the older guests to look grave, and soon one of the ladies contrived, under some pretext, to interrupt his tale, declaring at the same time that they would hear the rest of it when they got home. Before, however, he had any opportunity of continuing it, her husband managed to take him aside, and after questioning him very closely as to what he had seen, begged of him not to talk of it any more. Such an appearance (he added) had been once witnessed before by one of the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, and that it was fully believed that some awful and terrible mystery was connected with it; in explanation of which he would relate to him some circumstances which had occurred in the vicinity a few years before, and then leave him to form his own opinion of what he had seen that afternoon.

He proceeded to inform him that lodgings had been engaged at a farm-house by a lady and gentleman, whether man and wife had never been ascertained. The lady was young and handsome, and they appeared devoted to one another. They seemed also in easy circumstances, as they came in a handsome carriage, which, however, they did not use afterwards, but frequently took long walks together. In process of time the lady was confined, and gave birth to a son, and shortly after the gentleman left. He was absent several months; and on his return there appeared to be no diminution of their affection. They took their walks as usual, and everything went on as before.

One afternoon, however, they went out together, taking the child with them, and not one of the three had ever been heard of since. No inquiries had ever been made after them by relatives or friends, and the people at the farm-house had soon let the matter drop. This occurred (said the gentleman) about fifteen years since, but some seven years ago

another farmer, who had been well acquainted with them during their residence here, called one evening at the house where they lived, and stated that he had just seen Mrs. S. and little boy walking in that very same field where you yourself saw what you have described to-day. He was prevailed upon without difficulty to be silent on the subject, and the circumstances are not generally known. I make no comment on them-I seek not to penetrate the mystery; one thing seems certain, that it can have been no ocular delusion either in you or in him. I tell the circumstances as they came to my own knowledge, and judge for yourself. I have had but one opinion on the subject myself (said my friend) ever since, and I do not see how any one else can entertain a different one.

That any solution but one of this very remarkable occurrence is exceedingly difficult, we think, no one can deny. Here, as is rarely the case, there can be no question about the facts; and the only natural way of accounting for them requires almost as much credulity as it does to believe them supernatural. We are to believe, in the first place, that there was some person living in the neighbourhood so like the young lady as to have been mistaken for her, and yet that the resemblance had never been noticed before. We are to believe, secondly, that a man of forty or fifty, who had lived all his life on the spot, should have been ignorant of the person of one living, we must suppose, within a few miles of him. We are, thirdly, to believe that this young woman should either have walked in the same place repeatedly for a space of, at all events, eight years (supposing the farmer had seen her at first) without being seen more than twice, or else that she should have selected these two particular evenings to visit a field for no purpose whatsoever. Or if we say that she was a stranger, the circumstance is equally marvellous, that a young girl should come alone from a distant part of the country to walk up and down in one particular field, with her head uncovered, for no intelligible purpose. We must maintain that this is a marvel which defies all ordinary explanation. The appearance which was there witnessed must either have been that of a departed spirit, or it must remain an impenetrable mystery. Here, indeed, as in many of the bestauthenticated instances, there is that apparent want of purpose to which we have before alluded. But mortals do not act without a purpose any more than spirits; and, as human motives and purposes are within the scope of that reason which fails to detect any for the action we have described, while those which may actuate spirits are clearly beyond it, this absence of purpose, as it seems to us at least, is rather in favour of the supernatural hypothesis than against it. We have always felt greatly moved by this story, apart from the more awful elements of interest which it contains. The imagination dwells upon the history of this mysterious couple; was it a runaway love-match? was the young lady one of the daughters of luxury, who had broken through all ties of kindred and fled from a home of splendour to seek that bliss in the arms of her forbidden lover, without which splendour is but vanity, and even love of kindred insufficient? or was she one of those unhappy ones in whom strong and earnest love had yielded itself to faithless vows and a semblance of passion? The fancy busies itself in picturing their story: the first meeting, the thrilling vows, the temptation, the ball-if indeed it were so―the first raptures of happy love untinged as yet by doubt or

remorse, the glow of maternal affection as she held up her first-born to his father's arms, and then the dark thoughts which already were gathering in his breast; fits of gloom and unkind words, and then some dark and lonely spot, and a fair pale face turned up in horror and entreaty ; a shriek, and then a guilty wretch with no more peace on earth; and the lady and the child in the lonely field with her loose dark hair and her fixed and marble face.

A scarcely less remarkable anecdote, though certainly a less romantic one, was related to me by a clergyman in Warwickshire. It occurred at the house of a gamekeeper on a neighbouring gentleman's estate, and was as follows: One afternoon, when the keeper's wife was out for the day, and he himself was gone his rounds, the eldest child, a girl of about fourteen or fifteen, who was left in charge of the house, and who happened at the time to be in the garden, suddenly heard a violent shrieking from her little brothers and sisters, who were in-doors; on hurrying in to learn the cause of it she found them in an ecstasy of terror, and able to articulate nothing further than, "Oh, Lizzy, the woman the woman on the stairs!" After a time, however, she elicited from them that, on opening the room-door, which was at the bottom of a flight of stairs, they had seen a strange woman sitting on the top; she was dressed, they said, in what looked like a flannel dressing-gown, and a sort of coil of the same material was bound round her head; on seeing her they shrieked with terror This one staircase, we may observe, was the only communication between the up-stairs rooms and the down stairs. While they were all standing by the door the keeper returned, so that they were enabled to search the upper rooms. It is needless to add that no one was found there, though no living being could have passed out without being discovered. The story got abroad, and it was soon remembered that such a figure had been seen in the house before, some years back, but village tradition gave no record of who it was supposed to be. Now children are not, we think, generally superstitious, and seldom have any ideas of spirits and goblins, unless put into their heads by nurses or servants. It is impossible, we think, to doubt that these children must actually have seen something-and something, too, which inspired them with horror.

We have selected these two stories for narration because they both present the same difficulty to the incredulous-that, namely, of accounting for them by natural causes. There are no marvellous coincidences or revelations in them which, though doubtless quite as convincing, or more so, to those immediately concerned, cannot of course weigh so much with those who are incapable of appreciating them. But granting the truth of the facts we have above related, it is almost impossible to conceive any natural explanation of them which has the most remote claim to probability. We do not of course expect to convince the sceptical, but it is something if we weaken their fancied grounds of ridicule against those who believe more.