(295) "I was sitting in my room one night, before I was married, close before a toilet-table, on which the book I was reading rested; the table fitted into the corner of the room, and the wide glass on it reached nearly to the ceiling, so that any one in the room could be seen full length. The book I was reading was not at all calculated to affect my nerves, or excite my imagination in any way. I was perfectly well, in good spirits, and nothing had occurred since receiving my morning's letters, to remind me of the person concerned in the strange experience you have asked me to relate.

" My eyes were fixed on my book, when suddenly I felt,1 but did not see, some one come into my room. I looked straight before me into the glass to see who it was, but no one was visible. I naturally thought that my visitor, seeing me deep in my book, had gone out again, when, to my astonishment, I felt a kiss on my forehead - a lingering, loving pressure. I looked up, without the least sensation of fear, and saw my lover standing behind my chair, stooping as if to kiss me again. His face was very white and inexpressibly sad. As I rose from my chair in great surprise, before I could speak, he had gone, how I do not know; I only know that, one moment I saw him, saw distinctly every feature of his face, saw the tall figure and broad shoulders as clearly as I ever saw them in my life, and the next moment there was no sign of him. For the first minute I felt nothing but surprise; perplexity expresses better what I mean; fear, or the idea I had seen a spirit, never entered my mind; the next sensation was that there must be something the matter with my brain, and a feeling of thankfulness that it had not conjured up some terrific vision, instead of an agreeable one.

I remember praying that I might not fancy anything that would frighten me.

"The next day, to my great surprise, there was not my usual morning's letter from him; four posts came in and no letter; all the next day, no letter. I naturally objected to the novel feeling of finding myself neglected, but should not have thought of letting the neglector know it, so would not write to inquire the cause of his silence. On the third night - still no letter all day - as I was going upstairs to bed, thinking of something totally unconnected with R., as I put my foot on the top stair, I felt, suddenly, but most intensely, that he was in my room, and that I could see him just as I had done before. For the first time came the fear that something had happened to him. I knew well how intense his desire to see me would be, and thought - ' Could it have been really that I saw him the other night? '

"I went straight to my room, convinced I should see him; there was nothing to be seen. I sat down and waited, and the sensation that he was there, and striving to speak to me, and to make me see him, became stronger and stronger. I waited till I became so sleepy I could not sit up any longer, and went to bed and to sleep. By the first morning's post I wrote and told him I feared he must be ill, as I had not had a letter for three days. I said not one word of what I have told you in this. Two mornings after, I had a few lines, shockingly written, to tell me he had hurt his hand out hunting, and could not hold a pen till that day, but was in ' no danger.' It was not till a few days after, when he could write distinctly, that I knew the whole truth.

"This is it. He had been riding an Irish hunter, a splendid horse across country, but a most vicious creature. This horse was so used to getting rid of any one he found on his back, if he objected to their presence there, and had such a variety of methods of doing so, throwing grooms, huntsmen, any one, when the fit seized him, and when he found no amount of rearing, kicking, no bolting, and stopping suddenly, no ' buck-jumping ' would unseat my fiance, and that he had at last found his master, he became desperate. He stood still for an instant, then rushed across the road backwards, reared perfectly straight, and pressed his rider's back against the wall. The crush and pain were so intense, R. thought it must be death, and remembered saying, as he lost consciousness, 'May, my little May! don't let me die without seeing her again.' It was that night he had bent over and kissed me. He turned out not to be really injured, though, of course, in frightful pain, and his hand could not possibly hold a pen.

The night I felt so suddenly and so certainly that I should see him, and, when I did not, felt so thoroughly he was there and trying to let me know it, he was at the time worrying himself about not writing to me, and wishing intensely that I might feel there was some reason for his silence.

1 If, as is probable, this feeling was due to a faint auditory hallucination (p. 344, first note), the ease would bo one of the rare instances of hallucination of three, senses. Compare Nos, 185, 306.

"I told my mother [since deceased] all, just as I have told you, and she advised me to say nothing about his supposed visit to me till he was quite strong and well again, and I could do so personally. When he came to see me afterwards, I made him tell the whole of his account before I mentioned one word of my strange experience of those two nights.

"I have just read this over to him, and he vouches for my having exactly described his share of this strange experience".

§ 2. The remaining cases involve the senses of sight and hearing.

The following account is from Miss Paget, of 130, Fulham Road, S.W. It will be seen that the words which the percipient heard may not unnaturally be referred to the sudden idea in the agent's mind that his unforeseen accident would probably get him into a scrape.

"July 17th, 1885.