lady not to give up all hope, said that he
was come to cure her, and that he was
about to pray by her side. " You do not
see me," he said, " but you hear what I am
saying." Those singular presentiments
were not unfounded. The words of hope
reached her ear and effected a marvellous
change, or rather called back the life that
was departing. The young girl survived,
and in 1866 was a wife, the mother of
children, and the chief happiness of two
most respectable families.

The last instance related by the
archbishop is so interesting, and made such a
sensation, that it deserves to be given in
his own words.

"In the summer of 1826, on a close and
sultry day, in a church that was excessively
crowded, a young priest who was in the
act of preaching was suddenly seized with
giddiness in the pulpit. The words he was
uttering became indistinct; he soon lost the
power of speech, and sank down upon the
floor. He was taken out of the church, and
carried home. Everybody thought that all
was over. Some hours afterwards, the funeral
bell was tolled, and the usual preparations
were made for the interment. His eyesight
was gone; but if, like the young lady
I have mentioned, he could see nothing, he
could nevertheless hear; and I need not
say that what reached his ears was not
calculated to reassure him. The doctor
came, examined him, and pronounced him
dead; and after the usual inquiries as to
his age, the place of his birth, &c., gave
permission for his interment next morning.
The venerable bishop, in whose cathedral
the young priest was preaching when he
was seized with the fit, came to his bedside
to recite the De Profundis. The body was
measured for the coffin. Night came on,
and you will easily feel how inexpressible
was the anguish of the living being in such
a situation. At last, amid the voices
murmuring around him, he distinguished that
of one whom he had known from infancy.
That voice produced a marvellous effect,
and excited him to make a superhuman
effort. Of what followed I need say no
more than that the seemingly dead man
stood next day in the pulpit, from which
he had been taken for dead. That young
priest, gentlemen, is the same man who is
now speaking before you, and who, more
than forty years after that event, implores
those in authority not merely to watch
vigilantly over the careful execution of the
legal prescriptions with regard to interments,
but to enact fresh ones, in order to
prevent the recurrence of irreparable
misfortunes."

A remarkable pamphlet, Lettre sur La
Mort Apparente, Les Conséquences Réelles
des Inhumations Précipitées, et Le Temps
Pendant lequel peut persister L'Aptitude
à être Rappelé à la Vie,* by the late
regretted Dr. Charles Londe, records accidents
which are more likely than the preceding
to occur in England. Even were
the bathing season not at hand, deaths by
drowning are always to be apprehended.
We therefore cite the following:

On the 13th of July, 1829, about two
o'clock in the afternoon, near the Pont des
Arts, Paris, a body, which appeared lifeless,
was taken out of the river. It was
that of a young man, twenty years of age,
dark-complexioned, and strongly built. The
corpse was discoloured and cold; the face
and lips were swollen and tinged with
blue; a thick and yellowish froth exuded
from the mouth; the eyes were open, fixed,
and motionless; the limbs limp and drooping.
No pulsation of the heart nor trace of
respiration was perceptible. The body had
remained under water for a considerable
time; the search after it, made in Dr.
Bourgeois's presence, lasted fully twenty
minutes. That gentleman did not hesitate
to incur the derision of the lookers-on, by
proceeding to attempt the resurrection of
what, in their eyes, was a mere lump of
clay. Nevertheless, several hours afterwards,
the supposed corpse was restored to
life, thanks to the obstinate perseverance
of the doctor, who, although strong and
enjoying robust health, was several times
on the point of losing courage, and
abandoning the patient in despair.

But what would have happened if Dr.
Bourgeois, instead of persistently remaining
stooping over the inanimate body, with
watchful eye and attentive ear, to catch the
first rustling of the heart, had left the
drowned man, after half-an-hour's fruitless
endeavour, as often happens? The
unfortunate young man would have been laid
in the grave, although capable of restoration
to life! To this case, Dr. Bourgeois, in the
Archives de Médecine, adds others, in which
individuals who had remained under water
as long as SIX HOURS were recalled to life by
efforts which a weaker conviction than his
own would have refrained from making.
These facts lead Dr. Londe to the conclusion
that, every day, drowned individuals

* Paris, chez J. B. Baillière, Libraire de l'Académie
Impériale de Médecine.