The Beresford Apparition

Dr. Leo gives tlio folloving story in his " Glimpses of the Supemalural. .' Two persons had proDoised cach other that whichcver of them diod fixst would, if possible, appear to the other. Lady licrraford relatod th! followiug result to her bod aud her granddaughter, Lady lictty Oobbe : "I have somethiiig," she said, "of the greatest iinportanoe to communicate to you both before I díe, a period which is not i'ar distant. Yon, Lady Betty, are 110 stranger to the i'riendshipwhich subsisted betweeiiLord Tyrone and myself. We -were educated under the same roof and in tho samo principies of deism. Whou the friends into whose hands we afterwards feil endeavored to persuade na to embrace RevesJed Keligiou, their arguments.thongh insufiicient to convince, were powerful to stugger former feeliugs, and to leavo tis wavering bctwcen two opinions. In this perplexing state of doubt and uneertaiuty wo made a solemn promise to caeh otter that whicliever dicd fitst should (if permitteel) appear to the other, and declare wliat religión was most acecptuble to God ; acconlingly oue nifiht, while öir Martin and mysel wcrc iu bed, 1 suddcnly awoko and discovered Lord ïyronc sitting by my bedside. I screamcd out and endeavored to awake Sir Martin. ' For heaven's sake,' I exclaimed, 'Lord Tyrono, by what means or for what reason came you hither at thi's time of niglit V 'Hayo you then forgotten our promise?' said te J 'I died last Tuesday at 4 o'cloek, and have been permitted by the Supreme Being to appear to you to assttre you tbat the Kevealed Eeligion is truo, and the only religión bj wnich we can be saved. I am itttthfflt snlfcrcd to inform you that yon will soon produce a son, who it is decreed will marry my daughter ; not many years alter his birth Sir Martin will die and you wül rnarry again, and to a man by whoso ill-treatmcnt you will bo rerrdered miserable ; you will have two daughters, and aftorwards a son, in chihtbirth of whom you will die in the forty-sêventh yearof your age.' ' Just heavens !' I exclaimed, ' and caunot I prevent tliis?' ' Undoubtedly,' returned the speetcr ; ' you are a free agent and may prevent it all by resistmg 3very temptation to a sacona marnage , but your passione are stroug ; you know not their power. Hitherto you have had qo trialf. More I am uot permitted to reveal, but if after this vammg you por3ist in y intidclity yvur lot iuanother world will be indeed.' ' May I not ask,' said I, ' if you are happy 'Had I been otherwise,' ho replied, ' I sliould not luwe beeu permitted to appoar to you.' 'I may, then, infer that you are happy?' Ho smiled. 'But how,' said I, ' wlien mormug coinés, shall I know that your appcur anee to me has been real, and uot thè mere represe ■ntation of m.y own irnagination? 'Will not tho news of niy death be suiñeient to convince you?' ' No,' I returued ; ' I might have had suoh a'dream, and that dream accidentally eoine to pass. I will have some strouger proof s of its reality. ' ' You shall,' said he, and, waving bis hand, the bed curtains, which were crnnson velvet, wcre üistautly dvawu through a large iron hoop by whieh the tester of the bed was suspended. 'In that,' he said, 'you cannot be mistaken ; no mortal arm eould have performed this.' 'True,' said I, 'but sleeping we are often possessed of tm more strength than when awake ; though wakiug 1 could not have done it, nsleep I might ; and I shall still doubt.' ' Here is a pockct-book ; in this,' said he, 'I will write my name ; you kuow my handwriting.' I replied, 'Yes.' He wrote with a pencil on one sido of the leaves. 'StiD,' said I, 'in the moruing I may doubt ; though waking I could not imítate your hand, asleep I might.' 'ou are 'hard of belief,' said he. _ ' Touch would injure you irreparably ; it is not for spirits to touch mortal ilesh.' ' I do not,' said I, 'regard a slight blemish.' ' You are a wonian of course, said ha, 'hold out your hand.' I did ; he struek my wrist ; his hand was cold as marble ; in a moment tho sinews shrunk up, every nervo withcred. 'Now,' said he, ' whilo you live let no mortal eyo ! behold that wrist ; to see it is sacrilego.' ! He stopped ; I turned to him agam ; lic was gone."