may,' resumed he. You have free agen-joint shook under me. I endeavored to cy, and may prevent it all by resisting awaken Sir Marcus, but in vain; all my every temptation to a second marriage. efforts were ineffectual. In this state of But your passions are strong; you know agitation and horror, I lay for some time, not their power; hitherto you have had when a flood of tears came to my relief, no trial, nor am I permitted further to tell and I dropped asleep. In the morning you. But if, after this warning, you per- Sir Marcus rose and dressed himself as sist in your infidelity, your lot in another usual, without perceiving the state in world will be miserable.' 'May I ask,' which the curtains remained. When I said I, ‘if you are happy? 'Had I been awoke, I found Sir Marcus gone down. otherwise,' said he, 'I should not be per- I arose, and having put on my clothes, mitted to appear to you.' 'I may thence went into the gallery adjoining our apartinfer that you are happy? He smiled. ment, and took from thence a large 'But how,' said I, when morning comes, broom (such a one as in great houses is shall I be convinced that your appearance frequently used to sweep the corners) thus to me has been real, and not the with the help of which, I then with diffimere phantom of my own imagination? culty took down the curtains; as I ima'Will not the news of my death,' said he, gined their extraordinary position would 'be sufficient to convince you? No,' excite the wonder of the servants, and ocreturned I, 'I might have had such a casion inquiry, which I wished to avoid. dream, and that dream accidentally come I then went to my bureau, locked up the to pass. I wish to have some stronger pocket-book, and took out a piece of proof of its reality.' 'You shall,' said he, black ribbon, which I bound round my waving his hand. The bed curtains, wrist. When I came down, the agitation which were of common velvet, were in- of mind in my countenance was too visistantly drawn through a large iron hoop, ble to pass long unobserved by Sir Marby which the tester of the bed, which was cus. He instantly remarked my confusion, of an oval form, was suspended. In and inquired the cause. I assured him I that,' said he, 'you cannot be mistaken; was perfectly well, but informed him Lord no mortal could have performed this.' Tyrone was dead; that he died on the 'True,' said I, 'but sleeping, we are often preceding Tuesday, at the hour of four, possessed of far greater power than and at the same time entreated him to awake. Though awake, I could not have drop inquiry respecting the black ribbon done it; asleep I might. I shall still which I bound round my wrist. He kinddoubt.' He then said, 'You have a pocket-ly desisted from further importunity, nor book, on the leaves of which I will write; you know my handwriting? I replied, Yes.' He wrote with a pencil on one side of the leaves. 'Still,' said I, in the morning I may doubt that, though awake I could not imitate your hand, asleep I might.' 'You are hard to believe,' said he; 'I must not touch you, it would injure you irreparably; it is not for spirit to touch mortal flesh.' 'I do not regard a small blemish,' said I. 'Hold out your hand.' I did so, and he touched my wrist. His hand was as cold as marble. In a moment the sinews of my arm shrunk up, and every nerve withered. Now,' said he, whilst you live, let no mortal eye behold that wrist; to see it would be sacrilege.' He stopped. I turned to him again, but he was gone! "During the time I was conversing with him my thoughts were perfectly calm and collected; but the moment he was gone, I felt chilled with horror, and a cold sweat came over me; every limb and did he ever after imagine the cause. You, my son, as had been foretold, I brought into the world, and in little more than four years after your birth your father died in my arms. After this melancholy event, I determined, as the only probable means of avoiding the dreadful sequel of the prediction, to give up every pleasure, and to pass the remainder of my days in solitude. But few can endure to remain in a state of sequestration. I commenced an intercourse with one family, and only one; nor could I see the fatal consequences which afterwards resulted from it. Little did I imagine that their son, their only son, then a mere youth, would prove the person destined by fate to cause me unhappiness. In a few years I ceased to regard him with indifference. I endeavored by every possible means to conquer a passion, the fatal consequences of which (if I should ever be weak enough to yield to its impulse) I too well knew; and fondly believed I should overcome its influence; when the evening of one fatal day terminated every effort of fortitude, and plunged me in a moment down that fatal abyss I had long been meditating how to shun. He had frequently been soliciting his parents to allow him to go into the army, and at length obtained their permission, and came to bid me farewell before his departure. "The moment he came into my room, he fell down on his knees at my feet, and told me he was miserable, and that I alone was the cause of it. That moment my fortitude forsook me. I gave myself up for lost, and considering my fate as inevitable, without further hesitation consented to an union, the immediate result of which I knew to be misery, and its end death. The conduct of my husband, after a few years were past, amply warranted my demand for a separation. I hoped by this means to avert the fatal sequel of the prophecy. But won by his repeated entreaties, I was prevailed upon to pardon, and once more to reside with him, though not until after I had, as I supposed, passed my forty-seventh year. But, alas! I have heard this day, from indisputable authority, that I had hitherto lain under a mistake with regard to my age; that I am but forty-seven this day. Of the near approach of death, therefore, I entertain not the slightest doubt; but I do not dread its arrival Armed with the sacred precepts of Christianity, I can meet the king of terrors without dismay; and without a tear bid adieu to the regions of mortality for ever. "When I am dead, as the necessity for its concealment closes with my life, I wish that you, my Lady, will unbind my wrist, take from thence the black ribbon, and let my son, with yourself, behold it." Lady Beresford here rested for a few minutes; but resuming her conversation, she entreated her son to behave so as to merit the high honor he would in future receive from a union with Lord Tyrone's daughter. Lady Beresford then expressed a wish to lie down on a bed, and compose herself to sleep. Lady and her son immediately called her attendants, and quitted the room, after having first desired them attentively to watch their mistress; and should they observe any change, to call them instantly. An hour passed, and all was silent in the room. They listened at the door, and everything was still. But in about half an hour more, a bell rung violently; they flew to her apartment, but before they reached the door of it, they heard the servants exclaim, "Our mistress is dead!" Lady then desired the servants to quit the room. Lady Beresford's son, with herself, approached the bed of his mother. They lifted up her hand, and unbound the black ribbon, and found the wrist in exactly the same state Lady Beresford had described: every nerve withered, every sinew shrunk up. Lady Beresford's son, as had been predicted, was married to Lord Tyrone's daughter. The black ribbon and pocket-book were long in the possession of Lady, by whom the above narrative was dated (drawn up) in Ireland, and who, together with the Tyrone family, wrote the author, will be found ready to attest its truth.-Past Feelings Renovated. COLONEL GARDINER. The case of Colonel Gardiner is too well known and accredited to require any argument in confirmation of its truth. His life, written by Dr. Doddridge, from memoranda dictated by himself, gives a full account of the extraordinary phenomena attending his conversion; and nothing can be more clear and certain than that the immediate occupation of his mind and thoughts, as well as the whole previous tenor of his life, were anything rather than calculated to superinduce a train of ideas tending to such a result. He had made, for that very evening, an assignation with a married woman of rank, and was awaiting in his study the hour of his appointment, having taken up a book for the purpose of passing away the time. Whether he had fallen asleep or not, he could not tell; but he suddenly became conscious of the presence of an apparition, which at once arousing him, fixed his attention, and in one moment changed the entire current of his thoughts, desires, and future existence. He beheld, surrounded with a halo of light, the figure of the Saviour on the Cross, which addressed him, as he believed, in an audible voice, to the effect, "Have I suffered this for thee?" From that moment the Colonel became an altered man, and devoted himself to the promotion of that cause which hitherto he had set at nought. Without abandoning A private friend of the writer, residing in Dublin, had a brother who was a sailor, and had gone to the East Indies. She was expecting him home; and one morning, as she was about leaving the drawing-room to go down stairs, she saw her brother coming up towards her, with the water apparently dripping from his clothes and hair. In amazement, she exclaimed, "Why, William! where have you been? and what have you been doing to yourself?" his profession as a soldier, he became one | apparition had been seen by her in the of the most eminent of Christians, and an garden. eloquent and successful advocate of the Christian faith. His whole after life was one continuous and constant exemplification of the religion he professed; and, his enemies themselves being judges, no man exhibited a demeanor more blameless, or conduct more honorable; and whatever sceptics may have to say, of cavil, in depreciation of the circumstances which produced the change, it cannot be denied, that so far as the individual was concerned, the object attained was fully commensurate with the means by which it was accomplished; and unless a substantial reason can be adduced for the change in Co-ishment and perplexity. When she relonel Gardiner's life, irrespective of the cause he has himself assigned for it, it will ever be considered by rational persons an interposition of Providence, to bring him to repentance. A friend of the writer's, who formerly resided at Bath, had related to him the following account. Calling one day, about one o'clock, upon a lady of his acquaintance, who resided at a short distance from the city, upon entering the garden from an outside gate, he saw the lady standing in the middle of the garden with a child in her arms; but in such a state of terror and trembling that she seemed ready to let it fall, and sink herself to the ground. On his approaching to address her, she exclaimed in agitation, "O Mr. S.! I have had such a dreadful alarm. A few minutes ago I heard my father's voice, distinctly calling, 'Eleanor! Eleanor and on turning round, I saw him him coming into the garden through the gate. I instantly went to meet him, but on going round those lilacs to the place where I saw him coming towards me, he was not there, nor can I find him at all in the garden." Our friend endeavored to calm her mind, by representing that it must have been an imaginary appearance; and although she still persisted in asserting that she both saw her father (who was living in Wales, at the distance of eighty or ninety miles from Bath,) and distinctly heard his voice, she became more composed, and seemed to think it possible it might have been an optical illusion. By the next morning's post, however, she received a letter informing her that her father had died at his own house in Wales, at the very moment in which the Whilst she was speaking, the apparition vanished, leaving her in the utmost aston covered herself, she wrote down the day and hour in which the spectre appeared. In the course of a few months she received a letter from the captain of the ship in which her brother had sailed, announcing to her the melancholy fact that he had been accidentally drowned, on the very day and hour in which the apparition had presented itself to her in Dublin. SECOND SIGHT. This faculty is, beyond a doubt, the result of mental vision; and the possession of it by certain persons is so well authenticated, that we have no hesitation in including it in our illustrations of the same principle. The following instance is related by Dr. Ferrier, in his work on the subject: A gentleman connected with my family, an officer in the army, and certainly addicted to no superstition, was quartered, early in life, in the middle of last century, near the castle of a gentleman in the north of Scotland, who was supposed to possess second sight. Strange rumors were afloat respecting the old chieftain. He had spoken to an apparition, which ran along the battlements of the house, and had never been cheerful afterwards. His mental vision excited surprise even in that region of credulity; and his retired habits favored the popular opinion. My friend assured me, that one day whilst he was reading a play to the ladies of the family, the chief, who had been walking across the room, stopped suddenly, and assuming the look of a seer, rang the bell, and ordered the groom to saddle a horse, and proceed immediately to a seat in the neighborhood, to inquire after the health of a lady. If the account was favorable, he then directed him to call at another castle, to ask after another lady, whom he named. The reader immediately closed his book, and declared that he would not proceed till these abrupt orders were explained, as he was convinced they were produced by second sight. sidence on the island of Bernera, which lies between the island of North Uist and Harris, went to the Isle of Skye about business, without appointing any time for his return. The servants, in his absence, being all together in the great hall, at night, one of them accustomed to see the second sight, told the rest they must remove, for they would have abundance of company to-night. One of his fellow-servants answered that there was very little appearance of that; and if he had seen any vis The chief was very unwilling to explain himself; but at length he owned that the door had appeared to open, and that a little woman without a head had then entered the room-that the apparition indi-ion of company it was not likely to be cated the death of a person of his acquaintance; and the only two who resembled the figure were these ladies after whose health he had sent to inquire. A few hours afterwards the servant returned, with an account that one of the ladies had died of apoplexy, about the time when the vision appeared. Another time, the chief was confined to his bed by indisposition, and my friend was reading to him, in a stormy winter's night, whilst the fishing boat belonging to the castle was at sea. The old chieftain repeatedly expressed much anxiety respecting his people, and at last exclaimed, My boat is lost." The Colonel replied, "How do you know that, Sir!" He was answered, "I see two of the boatmen bringing in the third, drowned, all dripping wet, and laying him down close beside your chair!" The chair was shifted with great precipitation. In the course of the night the fishermen returned with the corpse of one of the boatmen. Sir Norman McLeod, who had his re accomplished that night. But the seer insisted upon it that it was. They continued to argue the improbability of it, because of the darkness of the night, and the danger of coming through the rocks that lie around the isle. But within an hour after, one of Sir Norman's men came to the house, bidding them provide lights, etc., for his master had now landed. VISCOUNT DUNDEE. Lord Balcarras was confined in Edinburgh Castle; and, unconscious of what was impending, saw the apparition of Viscount Dundee enter his bedroom at the very moment he fell at the battle of Killiecrankie. The spectre drew aside the curtains of his friend's bed, looked steadfastly at him, leaned for some time on the mantelpiece, and then walked out of the room. The Earl, not aware at the time that he was gazing on a phantom, called upon Dundee to stop. News soon arrived of the unfortunate hero's fate. From Tait's Magazine. PAUL DE LA ROCHE. PAUL DELAROCHE, the greatest French | broking establishment of France, called historical painter of his time, was born in Paris in 1797, and died last month, at the age of fifty-nine. He was the son of an eminent connoisseur in art, who held an appointment in the great national pawn the Mont de Pieté, his duty being the valuation of such works of art as were of fered there in pledge. His son's Christian name was Jean Baptiste; but being of diminutive stature, his schoolfellows nick named him "little Paul," and that name | vigorous character and execution in their he afterwards adopted as his own. He works. commenced his studies as an artist in the department of landscape painting, but having failed to obtain the prize at the Ecole des Beaux Arts, when he was a competitor in 1817, and his elder brother, who had selected the branch of historical art, having relinquished it for commercial pursuits, he resolved upon devoting himself in future to the delineation of historical subjects the highest and most comprehensive of all the branches of painting. În 1818, he entered the studio of M. le Baron Gros, one of the most distinguished disciples of the celebrated David, the founder of the modern French school of painting. In 1824 he exhibited three paintings which showed not only a striking improvement on his mode of treating the subjects which he had selected, but also convinced all who beheld them that he knew the precise themes which are best adapted for historical illustration. These paintings were "Philippo Lippi Declaring his Passion to the Nun, whose Portrait he was Painting;" "Joan of Arc Interrogated in Prison;" and "Vincent St. Paul Preaching before Louis XIII." His success was now decided, and henceforth he relied with more confidence on his own inspirations and genius. In 1827, among other works of less mark, he exhibited "The Death of Durante," commissioned for one of the halls of the Conseil d'Etat; "The Result of a Duel;" "Canmont de la Force Saved from Massacre," and "The Death of Queen Elizabeth." The latter painting was purchased by the Government of Charles X., and is now in the gallery of the Luxembourg, where also is his "Joash." "The Death of Queen Elizabeth" is a very powerful picture. The queen is painted in her last agony, stretched on a carpet on the ground, surrounded by her women, one of whom is arranging the cushions under her head. The Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord Keeper, and the Lord High Admiral are grouped around her; and the Secretary of State, Cecil, is kneeling before her, in the act of soliciting her last commands. All the institutions of art in France having been abolished early in the first Revolution, when every thing established was overturned, and the most precious works of art in the country were destroyed by the fury of the populace, the French may be said to have had no school of study for a time. The principal events of the Revolution, and the subsequent victories of the French arms, formed the main subjects of the productions of their artists. Hence, there is something theatrical in the character of most of the great works of the Empire. The collection of the works of art, the spoils of conquered Europe, which so long graced the museums of Paris, inspired the rising race of French artists with a new spirit; and was the means of ultimately introducing a more correct taste, and a bolder style of expression than was shown in the coldly classical productions of the school of David and his followers. Color, action, and dramatic effect were the most distinguishing characteristics of Gros, the master of Delaroche; and these he studied carefully, at the same time striving, and not unsuccessfully, even at that early period of his career, to attain that simplicity of compo-lery of the late Duke of Bridgewater, essition, intellectual grace, and dignity of attitude for which his paintings came af terwards to be so celebrated. He first exhibited, in 1822, at the age of twenty-five, at the Salon, three pictures -"A Study of a Head," a "Descent from the Cross," and Joas saved by Jehoshabeth," all of which evinced much promise. His progress after this was rapid. He was one of the first of the new school of French artists who abandoned the academical style, and aimed at a free and more English history afforded M. Delaroche other subjects for the exercise of his art. In 1830, he exhibited his "Princes in the Tower," which is also in the Luxembourg; and in 1831 he produced his "Cromwell Contemplating the Corpse of Charles I.,” now in the collection of the Earl of Ellesmere, a liberal patron of the fine arts, and the possessor of the valuable picture gal timated in money at two hundred thousand pounds. His subsequent English pieces were "The Death of Lady Jane Grey;" "Charles I. Insulted by the Soldiers of Cromwell"-which is also in the Bridgewater gallery, and for which the Earl of Ellesmere is said to have paid 35,000 francs-and "Strafford Led to Execution." In 1831, besides his "Cromwell Contemplating the Corpse of Charles I.," Delaroche produced two other great works, |