in the tale, Mr. Miles Peter Andrews—a
frequent guest of her father, Sir G. P., of
Theobald's Park, Herts. Sir G. suffered much from
gout, and the hours of the establishment were
usually early, but, on the occasion of Mr.
Andrews's visits, no one stirred till midnight.
It was five minutes before that hour that Lord
Lyttelton's ghost had appeared to him; and
though, at the time we speak of, fifteen years
had elapsed, he was not wholly free from
certain nervous emotions, which made him prefer to
pass that never-forgotten moment in company.

It was in or about the year 1775 that Lord
Lyttelton, while resident at Hagley Park, made
the acquaintance of a family living a short
distance off, at Clent, and consisting of the father,
mother, son, and four daughters, of whom the
eldest was married to a Mr. Cameron, and had,
it was said, demeaned herself in a manner to
create some scandal.

Upon the death of the father of the family,
which occurred in June, 1778, the intimacy
increased, and the gay and agreeable lord was
firmly established in the good graces of his
"Clentiles," as he called them, to whom on
New Year's Day, 1779—the last he was
destined to see—he addressed an epistle
burlesquing, with more wit than propriety, the
language of apostolic writings, and of which a
short specimen (needful to the narrative) must
suffice:

"The first chap. of St. Thomas's Epistle to
the Clentiles.

"1. Behold, I will speak to you, oh, daughters
of Clent, in the language of wisdom, and give
you understanding in the paths of peace.

"2. Look not, Eliza, upon men—yea, upon
the sons of men—with an eye of concupiscence,
saying, 'I am not short-sighted,' for verily the
wicked will beware of the intentions of the heart.

"3. Take heed of thy ways, lest thou be
like the foolish woman, even like Mary" (the
married sister), " who will repent as Magdalen
repented.

"6. As to thee, oh, Christian" (afterwards
Mrs. Wilkinson), "remember after whom thou
art called.

"8. Go to—thou art brown, but thou art
pleasant to look upon, and thy ways are full of
pleasantness.

"12. Thy mother putteth her trust in thee;
be thou to her a comfort when her heart is sad,
that she may boast of thee, and say, ' I am the
mother of Christian.'"

Compliments, mixed with too-suggestive
warnings against temptations, addressed to
the second sister, occupy the verses up to the
twenty-second, in which he addresses the
mother, a lady, be it remembered, of excellent
character as well as exalted understanding.

"22. Now unto thee, O Mary, the mother
of Eliza, of Christian, and Margaret—to thee
be all honour and praise.

"21. Behold, thou art a woman of exceeding
spirit—justice and temperance enlighten thy
ways.

"25. Yet thou art lonely, and a widow-
woman, and the wickedness of man is against
thee.

"'26. Trust not, therefore, to thyself, but
take unto thee a helpmate, for so the Lord has
appointed.

"28. Trust thou to the honesty of a friend,
and believe in the counsel of him who has
understanding."

Accepting this specious address in the spirit
its author no doubt intended, the unsuspicious
mother not only read it to her children, but
encouraged the visits of the supposed moralist,
until the young ladies, to the astonishment of
all who knew Lord Lyttelton's real character,
were seen actually residing at Hagley Park!
The mother's eyes were now open, but too late.
She had lost control of the girls, and when, in
September of this fatal year, 1779, Miss Christian
accompanied his lordship to Ireland, an
Irish lady being of the party, the consciousness
of her own indiscretion threw the unhappy lady
into an illness from which she never recovered.

Early in November the party returned from
Ireland, and, being met by the two other sisters
who had remained at Hagley Park, all went
together to reside at Lord Lyttelton's town
mansion, situated in Hill-street, Berkeley-square.
Here, on the night of Thursday, the 26th of
November, occurred the famous vision, which,
whether or not it may be held to connect itself
wiih the event it purported to foreshadow,
certainly rests upon evidence too strong to admit
of rational question.

Lord Lyttelton's bedroom bell was heard to
ring with unusual violence, and his servant,
hastily obeying the summons, found him looking
much disordered. He explained that he
had been awakened by something resembling a
fluttering white bird. Having, with some difficulty,
driven this object away, he had been still
more startled by the appearance of a figure in
long white drapery—a woman of majestic
presence—the image (as he afterwards averred) of
the mother of his young guests.

"Prepare to die, my lord," said the apparition;
"you will quickly be called."

"How soon—how soon?" Lord Lyttelton
had eagerly asked. " In three years?"

"Three years!" was the stern rejoinder.
"Three days. Within that time you will be in
the state of the departed."

The figure vanished.

This incident made a deep impression on his
lordship's mind. Making no secret of what had
occurred, he related it not only to the party in
his house, but to many friends—among others,
to Lords Sandys and Westcote. The latter,
who was a connexion, and, after Lord Lyttelton,
the representative of the house, made light of
the matter, and advised him to devote his
thoughts, preferably, to a speech he was to
make in parliament a few days later.

Lord Sandys gave better counsel. "My dear
fellow, if you believe this strange occurrence,
and would have us believe it, be persuaded to
make some change in your doings. Give up,
by all means, that silly frolic you told us of—I