unstrung, and the whole animal system is like a motionless log.-Behold a person of the most delicate sensations and amiable dispositions: his eyes, though thrown wide open, admit not the visual ray; at least, distinguish not objects. His ears, with the organs unimpaired, and articulate accents beating upon the drum, perceive not the sound, at least apprehend not the meaning. The senses, and their exquisitely fine feelings, are overwhelmed with an unaccountable stupefaction. You call him a social creature, but where are his social affections?: He knows not the father that begat him, and takes no notice of the friend that is as his own soul. The wife of his bosom may expire by his side, and he lie more unconcerned than a bar. barian. The children of his body may be tortured. with the severest pangs, and he, even in the same chamber, remain untouched with the least commiseration.-Behold the most ingenious scholar, whose judgment is piercing, and able to trace the most intricate difficulties of science; his taste refined, and quick to relish all the beauties of sentiment and composition: yet, at this juncture, the thinking faculties are unhinged, and the intellectual œconomy quite disconcerted. Instead of closeconnected reasonings, nothing but a disjointed huddle of absurd ideas; instead of well digested principles, nothing but a disorderly jumble of crude conceptions. The most palpable delusions impose upon his imagination. The whole night passes, and he frequently mistakes it for a single minute, is not sensible of the transition, hardly sensible of any duration.

Yet no sooner does the morning dawn, and daylight enter the room, but this strange enchantment vanishes. The man awakes, and finds himself possessed of all the valuable endowments which for several hours were suspended or lost. His sinews are braced and fit for action. His senses are alert and keen. The romantic visionary brightens into

the master of reason. The frozen or benumbed affections melt with tenderness and glow with benevolence. And, what is beyond measure surprising, the intoxicated mind works itself sober, not by slow degress, but in the twinkling of an eye recovers from its perturbation.-Why does not the stupor, which deadens all the nice operations of the animal powers, hold fast its possession? When the thoughts are once disadjusted, why are they not always in confusion? How is it that they are rallied in a moment, and from the wildest irregularity, reduced to the most orderly array ?-From an inactivity resembling death, how is the body so suddenly restored to vigour and agility? From extravagancies bordering upon madness, how is the understanding instantaneously re-established in sedateness and harmony-Surely, "this is the "Lord's doing, and it should be marvellous in our eyes;" should awaken our gratitude and inspirit our praise.

This is the time in which ghosts are supposed to make their appearance. Now the timorous imagination teems with phantoms, and creates numberless terrors to itself. Now dreary forms in sullen state stalk along the gloom, or, swifter than lightning, glide across the shades. Now voices more than mortal are heard from the echoing vaults, and groans issue from the hollow tombs. Now melancholy spectres visit the ruins of ancient monasteries, and frequent the solitary dwellings. of the dead. They pass and repass, in unsubstantial images, along the forsaken galleries, or take their determined stand over some lamented grave. How often has the school-boy fetched a long circuit, and trudged many a needless step, in order to avoid the haunted churchyard? Or, if necessity, sad necessity, has obliged him to cross

• Vox quoque per lucos vulgo exaudita silentes
Ingens, & simulacra modis pallentia miris
Visa sub obscurum noctis,

Virg.

the spot where human skulls are lodged below, and the baleful yews shed supernumerary horrors above, a thousand hideous stories rush into his memory; fear adds wings to his feet; he scarce touches the ground; dares not once look behind him; and blesses his good fortune if no frightful sound purred at his heels, if no ghastly shape bolted upon his sight.

'Tis strange to observe the excessive timidity which possesses many people's minds on this fanciful occasion, while they are void of all concern on others of the most tremendous import. Those who are startled, in any dark and lonely walk, at the very apprehension of a single spectre, are nevertheless unimpressed at the sure prospect of entering into a whole world of disembodied beings; nay, are without any emotions of awe, though they know themselves to be hastening into the presence of the great, infinite, and eternal Spirit. -Should some pale messenger from the regions of the dead draw back our curtains at the hour of midnight, and, appointing some particular place, say, as the horrid apparition to Brutus, I'll meet thee there; I believe the boldest heart would feel something like a panic, would seriously think upon the adventure, and be in pain for the event. But when a voice from Heaven cries, in the awakening language of the prophet, Prepare to meet thy God, O Israelt! how little is the warning regarded! how soon is it forgot! Preposterous stupidity! to be utterly unconcerned, where it is the truest wisdom to take the alarm, and to be all trepidation, where there is nothing really terrible! -Do thou, my soul, remember thy Saviour's ad

The story of Brutus, and his evil genius, is well known: nor must it be denied, that the precise words of the spectre to the hero, were, Pl meet thee at Philippi. But, as this would not answer my purpose, I was obliged to make an alteration in the circumstance of place.

† Amos iv. 12.

monition: "I will forewarn you whom you shall fear. "Fear not these imaginary horrors of the night; "but fear that awful Being, whose revelation of "himself, though with expressions of peculiar "mercy, made Moses, his favorite servant, tremble "exceedingly; whose manifestation, when he ap

pears with purposes of inexorable vengeance, "will make mighty conquerors, who were familiar "with dangers and estranged to dismay, call upon "the mountains to fall on them, and the rocks to

cover them. The menace of whose majestic eye, "when he comes attended with thousand thou"sands of his immortal hosts, will make the very "heavens cleave asunder and the earth flee away. "O dread his displeasure, secure his favour, "and then thou mayst commit all thy other anx "ieties to the wind; thou mayst laugh at every "other fear."

This brings to my mind a memorable and amaz. ing occurrence, recorded in the book of Job; which is, I think, no inconsiderable proof of the real existence of apparitions + on some very extraordinary emergencies, while it discountenances those legions of idle tales which superstition has

Job iv. 12, 14, &c.

+ Is a proof of the real existence of apparitions.-If the sense, in which I have always understood this passage, be true-Eliphaz, I apprehend, was neither in a trance, nor in a dream, but perfectly awake.-Though he speaks of sleep; he speaks of it, as fallen not upon himself, but upon other men. He does not mention dreams, though rinin Somnia, would have suited the verse (if the book be in metre) altogether as well as Visiones.-It could not, surely, be a wind, as some translate the word : because the circumstance of standing still is not so compatible with the nature of a wind; and a wind would have passed above him, all around him, as well as before him. Not to add, how low a remark it is, and how unworthy of a place in so august a description, that he could not discern the form of a wind.-It seems, therefore, to have been a real spirit; either angelical, as were those which presented themselves to Abraham resting at the door of his tent, and to Lot sitting in the gate of Sodom; or else, the spirit of some departed saint, as in the case of Samuel's apparition, or the famous appearance of

raised and credulity received; since it teaches us, that if at any time those visitants from the un known world render themselves perceivable by mortals, it is not upon any errand of frivolous consequence, but to convey intelligencies of the utmost moment, or to work impressions of the highest advantage.

"Twas in the dead of night; all nature lay shrouded in darkness; every creature was buried in sleep: the most profound silence reigned through the universe. In these solemn moments, Eliphaz alone, all wakeful and solitary, was musing upon sublime and heavenly subjects;-when, lo! an awful being, from the invisible realms, burst into his apartment: a spirit passed before his face! Astonishment seized the beholder: his bones shivered within him, his flesh trembled all over him, and the hair of his head stood erect with horror.Sudden and unexpected was the appearance of the phantom; not such its departure. It stood still, to present itself more fully to his view. It made a solemn pause, to prepare his mind for some momentous message: after which a voice was heard; a voice, for the importance of its meaning, worthy

Moses and Elijah on the Mount of Transfiguration.-A spirit, assuming some vehicle, in order to become visible to the human eye: which, accordingly, Eliphaz saw, exhibiting itself as an object of sight; but saw so obscurely and indistinctly, that he was not able, either to describe its aspect, or to discern whom it resembled.

I have given this solemn picture a modern dress, rather for the sake of variety and illustration, than from any apprehension of improving the admirable original, Such an attempt, I am sensible, would be more absurdly vain, than to lacquer gold, or paint the diamond. The description, in Eliphaz's own language, is awful and af fecting to the last degree: a night-piece, dressed in all the circumstances of the deepest horror. I question whether Shakspeare himself, though so peculiarly happy for his great command of terrifying images, has any thing superior or comparable to this. The judges of fine composition see the masterly strokes; and I believe, the most ordinary reader feels them chilling his blood, and awakening emotions of dread in his mind.