man was like in form, 'My
name is M----ll, I belong to Woolwich, I died on ---- of ----, and you
must attend me.' I then remarked that the past tense had been used, and
cried out, 'Stop! You said "died," and the day you mentioned has not
come yet?' at which they both smiled, and added, 'We know this very
well; it was done to fix your attention, but'--and they seemed to say
very earnestly and in a marked manner--'you must attend us!' at which
they disappeared, leaving me awe-stricken, surprised, and thoroughly
aroused from sleep. Whether what I narrate was seen during sleep, or
when wholly awake, I do not pretend to say. It appeared to me that I was
perfectly awake and perfectly conscious. Of this I had no doubt at the
time, and I can scarcely summon up a doubt as to what I heard and saw
whilst I am telling it. As I had lighted my lamp, I rose, dressed, and
seating myself at a table in the room, read and thought, and, I need
hardly say, from time to time prayed, and fervently, until day came.
When I was called in the morning, I sent a message to the lady of the
house to say that I should not go to the University Chapel to say Mass
that morning, and should be present at the usual family breakfast at
nine.
"On entering the dining-room my hostess very kindly inquired after my
health, naturally surmising that I had omitted Mass from illness, or at
least want of rest and consequent indisposition. I merely answered that
I had not slept well, and that there was something weighing heavily upon
my mind which obliged me to return at once to Woolwich. After the usual
regrets and leave-takings, I started by the mid-day boat for England. As
the first date mentioned by my visitors gave me time, I travelled by
easy stages, and spent more than two days on the road, although I could
not remain in Dublin after I had received what appeared to me then, and
appears to me still, as a solemn warning.
"On my arrival at Woolwich, as may be easily imagined, my brother clergy
were very puzzled at my sudden and unlooked-for return, and concluded
that I had lost my reckoning, thinking that I had to resume my duties a
week earlier than I was expected to do. The other assistant priest was
waiting for my return to start on his vacation--and he did so the very
evening of my return. Scarcely, however, had he left the town when the
first of my visitors sent in a request for me to go at once to attend
him. You may, perhaps, imagine my feelings at that m
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