perhaps 15,000 miles apart, in precisely the same dress.

In referring to the play of "Hamlet," it will be found that Shakespeare has been most particular in describing the general appearance of the Ghost of Hamlet's father, who was

"Doomed for a certain time to walk by night."

For instance, when Marcellus says to Horatio,

"Is it not like the king?"

Horatio replies—

Horatio also, in describing the Ghost to Hamlet, says—

And, in further explanation, it is stated that the Ghost was armed "from top to toe," "from head to foot," that "he wore his beaver up," with "a countenance more in sorrow than in anger," and was "very pale." Then, again, when Hamlet sees his father's spirit, he exclaims—

So also in the play of "Macbeth," when the Ghost of Banquo rises, and takes a seat at the table, Macbeth says to the apparition—

And further on he says—

Daniel de Foe also insists upon, and goes into the most minute details as to the person and dress of a Ghost; and in a work which he published upon apparitions,[1] we may see how careful and circumstantial the author is in his descriptions of apparitions, whose appearance he vouches for in his peculiar narrative and matter-of-fact style. One of these ghost stories is of some robbers who broke into a mansion in the country, and whilst ransacking one of the chambers, they saw, sitting in a chair, "a grave, ancient man, with a long full-bottomed wig and a rich brocaded gown," etc. One of the robbers threatened to tear off his "rich brocaded gown;" another hit at him with a fuzee, and was instantly alarmed at finding it passed through air; and then the old gentleman "changed into the most horrible monster that ever was seen, with eyes like two fiery daggers red hot." They then rushed into another room, and found the same "grave, ancient man" seated there! and so also in another chamber; and he was seen by different robbers in three different rooms at the same moment! Just at this time the servants, who were at the top of the house, threw some "hand grenades" down the chimneys of these rooms. The result altogether was that some of the thieves were badly wounded, the others driven away, and the mansion saved from being plundered. What a capital thing it would be surely, if the police could attach some of these spirits to their force!

Another case, a clergyman (the Rev. Dr. Scot) was seated in his library, with the door closed, when he suddenly saw "an ancient, grave gentleman, in a black velvet gown"—very particular, you observe, as to the material—"and a long wig." This ghost was an entire stranger to Dr. Scot, and came to ask the doctor to do him a favour—asking a favour under such circumstances of course amounts to a command—which was to go to another part of the country, to a house where the ghost's son resided, and point out to the son the place where an important family document was deposited. Dr. Scot complied with this request, and the family property was secured to the son of the ghost in the "black velvet gown and the long wig."

Now one naturally asks here, why did not this old ghost go and point the place out to his son himself? And so also with the well-authenticated story of the ghost of Sir George Villars, who wanted to give a warning to his son, the Duke of Buckingham; which warning, if properly delivered and properly acted upon, might have saved the duke's life; but instead of warning his son himself (take notice), he appeared to one of the duke's domestics, "in the very clothes he used to wear," and commissioned him to deliver the message. After all, this warning was of no use, so this ghost might have saved himself the trouble of coming; but spirits are indeed strange things, and of course act in strange ways.

About the year 1700, a translation from a French book was brought out in London, entitled "Drelincourt on Death;" and after it had been published for some time, Daniel Defoe, at the request of Mr. Midwinter, the publisher, wrote a preface to the work, and therein introduced a short story about the ghost of a lady appearing to her friend. It was headed thus:—"A true Relation of the Apparition of Mrs. Veal, next day after her death, to one Mrs. Bargrave, at Canterbury, on the 8th of September, 1705; which Apparition recommends the perusal of Drelincourt's book of Consolation against the Fears of Death. (Thirteenth edition.)"

Mrs. Veal and Mrs. Bargrave, it appears, were intimate friends. One day at twelve o'clock at noon, when Mrs. B. was sitting alone, Mrs. Veal entered the room, dressed in a "riding habit," hat, etc., as if going a journey. Mrs. Bargrave advanced to welcome her friend, and was going to salute her, and their lips almost touched, but Mrs. V. held back her head and passing her hand before her face, said, "I am not very well to-day;" and avoided the salute. In the course of a long talk which they had, Mrs. Veal strongly recommends Drelincourt's Book on Death to Mrs. Bargrave, and occasionally "claps her hand upon her knee, in great earnestness." Mrs. Veal had been, subject to fits, and she asks if Mrs. Bargrave does not think she is "mightily impaired by her fits?" Mrs. B.'s reply was, "No! I think you look as well as ever I knew you;" and during the conversation she took hold of Mrs. Veal's gown several times, and commended it. Mrs. V. told her it was a "scoured silk" and newly made up. Mrs. Veal at length took her departure, but stood at the street door some short time, in the face of the beast market; this was Saturday the market-day. She then went from Mrs. B., who saw her walk in her view, till a turning interrupted the sight of her; this was three quarters after one o'clock. Mrs. Veal had died that very day at noon!!! at Dover, which is about twenty miles from Canterbury.

Some surprise was expressed to Mrs. Bargrave, about the fact of her feeling the gown, but she said she was quite sure that she felt the gown. It was a striped silk, and Mrs. Veal had never been seen in such a dress; but such a one was found in her wardrobe after her decease.

This story made a great sensation at the time it was published; and "Drelincourt on Death," with the Preface and Defoe's tale, became exceedingly popular.[2]

The absurdities and impossibilities of the foregoing narrative of this apparition of Mrs. Veal need not be pointed out; but the story is introduced here for two reasons; one of which will be explained further on, and the other is to show how the public have been imposed upon with these short stories.

It has all along been known to the literary world that this "true Relation" was a falsehood,