In the meantime, assuming this hypothesis, there is one phenomenon frequently attending their appearance, which has given rise to a great deal of thoughtless ridicule, but which, in the present state of science, merits very particular attention. Grose, whom Dr. Hibbert quotes with particular satisfaction, says: “I can not learn that ghosts carry tapers in their hands, as they are sometimes depicted; though the room in which they appear, even when without fire or candle, is frequently said to be as light as day.”
Most persons will have heard of this peculiarity attending the appearance of ghosts. In the case of Professor Dorrien’s apparition, mentioned in a former chapter, Professor Oeder saw it, when there was no light in the room, by a flame which proceeded from itself. When he had the room lighted, he saw it no longer, the light of the lamp rendering invisible the more delicate phosphorescent light of the spectre: just as the bright glare of the sun veils the feebler lustre of the stars, and obscures to our senses many chemical lights which are very perceptible in darkness. Hence the notion, so available to those who satisfy themselves with scoffing without inquiring, that broad daylight banishes apparitions, and that the belief in them is merely the offspring of physical as well as moral darkness.
I meet with innumerable cases in which this phosphorescent light is one of the accompaniments, the flame sometimes proceeding visibly from the figure; while in others, the room appeared pervaded with light, without its seeming to issue from any particular object.
I remember a case of the servants in a country-house, in Aberdeenshire, hearing the door-bell ring after their mistress was gone to bed; on coming up to open it, they saw through a window that looked into a hall that it was quite light, and that their master, Mr. F——, who was at the time absent from home, was there in his travelling dress. They ran to tell their mistress what they had seen; but when they returned, all was dark, and there was nothing unusual to be discovered. That night Mr. F—— died at sea, on his voyage to London.
A gentleman, some time ago, awoke in the middle of a dark winter’s night, and perceived that his room was as light as if it were day. He awoke his wife and mentioned the circumstance, saying he could not help apprehending that some misfortune had occurred to his fishing-boats, which had put to sea. The boats were lost that night.
Only last year, there was a very curious circumstance happened in the south of England, in which these lights were seen. I give the account literally as I extracted it from the newspaper, and also the answer of the editor to my further inquiries. I know nothing more of this story; but it is singularly in keeping with others proceeding from different quarters.
“A Ghost at Bristol.—We have this week a ghost-story to relate. Yes, a ghost-story; a real ghost-story, and a ghost-story without, as yet, any clew to its elucidation. After the dissolution of the Calendars, their ancient residence, adjoining and almost forming a part of All-Saint’s church, Bristol, was converted into a vicarage-house, and it is still called by that name, though the incumbents have for many years ceased to reside there. The present occupants are Mr. and Mrs. Jones, the sexton and sextoness of the church, and one or two lodgers; and it is to the former and their servant-maid that the strange visiter has made his appearance, causing such terror by his nightly calls, that all three have determined on quitting the premises, if indeed they have not already carried their resolution into effect. Mr. and Mrs. Jones’s description of the disturbance as given to the landlord, on whom they called in great consternation, is as distinct as any ghost-story could be. The nocturnal visiter is heard walking about the house when the inhabitants are in bed; and Mr. Jones, who is a man of by no means nervous constitution, declares he has several times seen a light flickering on one of the walls. Mrs. Jones is equally certain that she has heard a man with creaking shoes walking in the bed-room above her own, when no man was on the premises (or at least ought to be), and “was nearly killed with the fright.” To the servant-maid, however, was vouchsafed the unenvied honor of seeing this restless night-visiter; she declares she has repeatedly had her bed-room door unbolted at night between the hours of twelve and two o’clock—the period when such beings usually make their promenades—by something in human semblance; she can not particularize his dress, but describes it as something antique, and of a fashion “lang syne gane,” and to some extent corresponding to that of the ancient Calendars, the former inhabitants of the house. She further says he is a “whiskered gentleman” (we give her own words)—which whiskered gentleman has gone the length of shaking her bed, and she believes would have shaken herself also, but that she invariably puts her head under the clothes when she sees him approach. Mrs. Jones declares she believes in the appearance of the whiskered gentleman, and she had made up her mind, the night before she called on her landlord, to leap out of the window (and it is not a trifle that will make people leap out of the windows) as soon as he entered the room. The effect of the ‘flickering light’ on Mr. Jones was quite terrific, causing excessive trembling, and the complete doubling up of his whole body into a round ball, like.”—Bristol Times.
“Bristol Times Office, June 3, 1846.
“Madam: In reply to your inquiries respecting the ghost-story, I have to assure you that the whole affair remains wrapped in the same mystery as when chronicled in the pages of the Bristol Times.
“I am, madam, yours obediently,