subject that he must be able to tell us all about this "rustling" of the "silk dresses" of ghosts, and surely every one will be curious to learn the secret of such a curious fact.

The lady of the house, a Mrs. R——, drove over one day to the railway station at Tunbridge to fetch a young lady friend who was coming to stay with her for some weeks. This was a Miss S——, who "had been in the habit of seeing apparitions from early childhood," and when, upon their return, they drove up to the entrance of the manor-house, Miss S—— perceived on the threshold the appearance of two figures, apparently an elderly couple, habited in the costume of the time of Queen Anne. They appeared as if standing on the ground. Miss S—— saw the same apparition several times after this, and held conversations with them, and they told her that they were husband and wife, and that their name was "Children;" and she informed the lady of the house, Mrs. R——, of what she had seen and heard; and as Mrs. R—— was dressing hurriedly one day for dinner, "and not dreaming of anything spiritual, as she hastily turned to leave her bed-chamber, there, in the doorway, stood the same female figure Miss S—— had described! identical in appearance and costume—even to the old 'point-lace' on her 'brocaded silk dress'—while beside her, on the left, but less distinctly visible, was the figure of the old squire, her husband; they uttered no sound, but above the figure of the lady, as if written in phosphoric light in the dusk atmosphere that surrounded her, were the words, 'Dame Children,' together with some other words intimating that having never aspired beyond the joys and sorrows of this world, she had remained 'earth bound.' These last, however, Mrs. R—— scarcely paused to decipher, as her brother (who was very hungry) called out to know if they were 'going to have any dinner that day?'" There was no time for hesitation; "she closed her eyes, rushed through the apparition and into the dining-room, throwing up her hands, and exclaiming to Miss S——, 'Oh, my dear, I've walked through Mrs. Children!'" Only think of that, "gentle reader!" Only think of Mrs. R—— walking right through "Dame Children"—"old point-lace, brocaded silk dress," and all—and as old "Squire Children" was standing by the side of his "dame," Mrs. R—— must either have upset the old ghost or have walked through him also.

Although this story looks very much like as if it were intended as an additional chapter to "Joe Miller's Jest-book," the reader will please to observe that Mr. Owen does not relate this as a joke, but, on the contrary, expects that it will be received as a solemn serious fact; there was a cause for the haunting of this old manor-house, with the talking, screaming, and rustling of silk, and the appearance of the old-fashioned ghosts; there was a secret which these ghosts wished to impart to the persons in the house at that time, and if the gentleman reader will brace up his nerves, and the lady reader will get her "smelling-bottle" ready, I'll let them into the secret. Now, pray, dear madam, don't be terrified! Squire Children had formerly been proprietor of the mansion, and he and his "dame" had taken great delight and interest in the house—when alive—and they were very sorry to find that the property had gone out of the family, and he and his dame had come on purpose to let Mrs. R—— and her friend know all this! There now, there's a secret for you—what do you think of that?

In the year 1854, a baron (of the rather funny name of Guldenstubbé) was residing alone in apartments in the Rue St. Lazare, Paris, and one night there appeared to him in his bed-room the ghost of a stout old gentleman. It seems that he saw a column of "light grayish vapour," or sort of "bluish light," out of which there gradually grew into sight, within it, the figure of a "tall, portly old man, with a fresh colour, blue eyes,[4] snow white hair, thin white whiskers, but without beard or moustache, and dressed with care. He seemed to wear a white cravat and long white waistcoat, high stiff shirt collar, and long black frock coat thrown back from his chest as is wont of corpulent people like him in hot weather. He appeared to lean on a heavy white cane." After the baron had seen this portly ghost, he went to bed and to sleep, and in a dream the same figure appeared to him again, and he thought he heard it say, "Hitherto you have not believed in the reality of apparitions, considering them only as the recallings of memory; now, since you have seen a stranger, you cannot consider it the reproduction of former ideas."

Every one will acknowledge that this was exceedingly kind on the part of the ghost, as he had no doubt to come a long way for the express purpose of setting the baron's mind right upon this point; and had also come from a very warm place, as his frock coat "was thrown from his chest, as is wont with corpulent people in hot weather."

This polite, good-natured, "blue"-eyed apparition, who was "dressed with care," had been the proprietor of the maison—a Monsieur Caron—who had dropped down in an apoplectic fit; and, oh, horror of horrors, had actually "died in the very bed now occupied by the baron!"...

When the daughter heard of the ghost of her papa, appearing thus upon one or two occasions, "she caused masses to be said for the soul of her father," and it is "alleged that the apparition has not been seen in any of the apartments since;" or, to use a vulgarism, we might say here, that this ghost had "cut his stick."

Mr. Robert Dale Owen had this narrative from the baron himself in Paris, on the 11th of May, 1859, and he is of opinion that this "story derives much of its value from the calm and dispassionate manner in which the witness appears to have observed the succession of phenomena, and the exact details which, in consequence, he has been enabled to furnish. It is remarkable also, as well for the electrical influences which preceded the appearance, as on account of the correspondence between the apparition to the baron in his waking state, and that subsequently seen in his dream; the first cognizable by one sense only—that of sight—the second appealing (though in vision of the sight only) to the hearing also. The coincidences as to personal peculiarities and details of dress are too numerous and minutely exact to be fortuitous, let us adopt what theory we may."

As this baron is no doubt a most respectable and well-conducted gentleman, in every respect, I will not say—