“Gwyn fyd v rhai trwy ffydd,
Sy’n myn’d o blith y byw.”
Three weeks before the death of her aunt.
Mr. John Llewelyn, Rhos-y-Gwydr, somewhere on the borders of Carmarthenshire and Pembrokeshire, when he went to the door of Rhydwilym Chapel one evening, he was surprised when he listened, to hear his own voice preaching a funeral sermon.
A DAY-DREAM.
Another remarkable instance of second-sight seeing appeared in “Notes and Queries” for July, 1858. The contributor, Mr. John Pavin Phillips, gives the following account of what occurred to him himself in the year 1818, upon his return home to Pembrokeshire, after many years’ absence:—
“A few days after my arrival, I took a walk one morning in the yard of one of our parish churches, through which there is a right of way for pedestrians. My object was a twofold one: Firstly, to enjoy the magnificent prospect visible from that portion; and secondly, to see whether any of my friends or acquaintances who had died during my absence were buried in the locality. After gazing around me for a short time, I sauntered on, looking at one tombstone and then at another, when my attention was arrested by an altar-tomb enclosed within an iron railing. I walked up to it and read an inscription which informed me that it was in memory of Colonel ——. This gentleman had been the assistant Poor Law Commissioner for South Wales, and while on one of his periodical tours of inspection, he was seized with apoplexy in the Workhouse of my native town, and died in a few hours. This was suggested to my mind as I read the inscription on the tomb, as the melancholy event occurred during the period of my absence, and I was only made cognisant of the fact through the medium of the local press. Not being acquainted with the late Colonel ——, and never having seen him, the circumstances of his sudden demise had long passed from my memory, and were only revived by my thus viewing his tomb. I then passed on, and shortly afterwards returned home. On my arrival my father asked me in what direction I had been walking, and I replied, in —— Churchyard, looking at the tombs, and among others I have seen the tomb of Col. ——, who died in the Workhouse. ‘That’ replied my father ‘is impossible, as there is no tomb erected over Colonel ——‘s grave.’ At this remark I laughed. ‘My dear father,’ said I, ‘You want to persuade me that I cannot read. I was not aware that Colonel —— was buried in the Churchyard, and was only informed of the fact by reading the inscription on the tomb.’ ‘Whatever you may say to the contrary’ said my father, ‘What I tell you is true; there is no tomb over Colonel ——‘s grave.’ Astounded by the reiteration of this statement, as soon as I had dined I returned to the Churchyard and again inspected all the tombs having railings around them, and found that my father was right.
There was not only no tomb bearing the name of Colonel ——, but there was no tomb at all corresponding in appearance with the one I had seen. Unwilling to credit the evidence of my own senses, I went to the cottage of an old acquaintance of my boyhood, who lived outside of the Churchyard gate, and asked her to show the place where Colonel —— lay buried. She took me to the spot, which was a green mound, undistinguished in appearance from the surrounding graves.
Nearly two years subsequent to this occurrence, surviving relatives erected an Altar-tomb, with a railing round it, over the last resting place of Colonel ——, and it was, as nearly as I could remember, an exact reproducing of the memorial of my day-dream. Verily, ‘there are more things in Heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’