Christ Church, Oxford. He was a man of extraordinary ability, but, says Mr. Crosland, "his life was unfortunate, and his death sad." When he was alive and well at Oxford, about the year 1850, conversing on the subject of ghosts one day with a mutual friend, Mr. Kenneth R. H. Mackenzie, a gentleman who contributed the chapter on "Chatterton" to the above-mentioned work, the two friends entered into a compact that, whoever departed this life first, should, if permitted, visit the other as an apparition; and the signal of communication was arranged to be the placing of a ghostly hand on the brow of the survivor. On the night of the 2nd of February, about twelve or half-past twelve o'clock, Mr. Mackenzie was lying in bed, watching the candle expiring, preparing his mind for sleep, and not thinking of his departed friend, when he felt placed over one eye and his forehead a cool damp hand. On looking up he saw Buckley in his ordinary apparel, and with his portfolio under his arm, as in life, standing at the bedside. The figure, as soon as it was recognised, retreated to the window; and after remaining plainly in sight for about a minute, disappeared. A few nights afterwards, the spectral Buckley again made his appearance, bearing in his hand the exact image of a letter, which Mr. Mackenzie at once identified as an old one that he had casually picked up from his letter-box in the course of the day. The letter was one that had been formerly written by Mr. Buckley to his friend Mr. Mackenzie.

BURROUGHS.

In his account of "Apparitions," Aubrey relates some curious particulars of one that was believed to haunt Caisho Burroughs, eldest son of Sir John Burroughs; and if the antiquary's record, derived from his friend Monson, might be credited, it is one of the best authenticated stories of its class now extant. Sir John Burroughs, a high-spirited gentleman, who subsequently perished in the ill-fated siege of Rochelle, being sent by Charles I. as envoy to the Emperor of Germany, took with him his son Caisho. quently Sir John made a tour through Italy, leaving Caisho at Florence to learn the language.

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Whilst residing in the Tuscan capital, young Burroughs fell passionately in love with a beautiful courtesan, a mistress of the Grand Duke. At last their intimacy became so notorious that it came to the Grand Duke's ears, and he, it is alleged, grew so jealous that he formed the design of having Caisho assassinated. Warned by some of the English residents in Florence of the fate awaiting him, the young man hastily left the city, without even acquainting his mistress of his intended departure. When the Grand Duke found himself baulked of his anticipated vengeance on his rival, he vented his spite on his mistress, "in most reproachful language," and she, on her side, "resenting

the sudden departure of her gallant, of whom she was most passionately enamoured, killed herself."

At the very moment that the unfortunate woman expired in Florence, her apparition, so it is alleged, appeared to her lover at his residence in London. Colonel Remeo, a Member of Parliament, and afterwards an officer of Charles II.'s household, was sleeping with young Burroughs, and he, also, is said to have seen the apparition. This ghost, it is averred, reproached her lover for his conduct in flying from her so suddenly, and leaving her exposed to the fury of the Grand Duke. She informed him of her tragical fate, and warned him that he should be slain in a duel.

Henceforth this spectre frequently appeared to Caisho, even when his younger brother, after Sir John Burrough's death, was sleeping with him. As often as the apparition came, the unfortunate man, unable to restrain his mental anguish, "would cry out with great shrieking and trembling of his body, saying, 'O God! here she comes she comes!' These visitations continued from time to time until Caisho's death. He was killed in a duel, and the morning before his death the apparition appeared to him for the last time. "Some of my acquaintances have told me," says Aubrey, "that he was one of the most beautiful men in England, and very valiant, but proud and bloodthirsty."

The rumour of this haunting of Caisho Burroughs had spread so widely that it reached the King's ears. Charles I. was so interested in the account, Aubrey declares, that he cross-examined Sir John Burroughs,

as also Colonel Remeo, as to the truth of the matter, and, in consequence of their report, thought it worth his while to send to Florence in order to make inquiries there. The result of the King's investigations in Tuscany was, the story states, that it was found that the unhappy woman had expired at the very time her apparition first appeared to her lover in London, when he was in bed. with Colonel Remeo. Mr. Monson, Aubrey's authority for this marvellous account, was intimate with Sir John Burroughs and both his sons, and declared that whenever Caisho alluded to the affair he wept bitterly.

JOHN DONNE.

IN Isaak Walton's life of the well-known Dean of St. Paul's is a very strange family legend, that is none the less worthy of quotation that it has been so often told. According to the old piscatorial biographer, Dr. Donne and his wife were living at one time in the house of Sir Robert Drury, in Drury Lane. The Lord Haye being about to depart to the court of Henry IV. of France, on an embassy from James I. of England, Sir Robert Drury resolved to accompany him to the French Court, and to be present at his audience there. No sooner had Sir Robert formed this resolution, than he determined Dr. Donne should be his companion on the journey. This desire having been made suddenly

known to Mrs. Donne, who was not only in very bad health, but also expecting her speedy confinement, she was so distressed, and protested so earnestly against her husband's departure, saying that she had a presentiment that some ill would occur in his absence, that finally the doctor laid aside all thoughts of his projected journey, and determined to stay at home.

When Sir Robert heard of this he exerted himself to the utmost to alter Dr. Donne's determination; and the doctor, fearing that after all the many benefits he had received from his friend, he should be deemed unthankful if he so persistently declined to accompany him, told his wife so; who, therefore, with very great reluctance, at last gave way, and most unwillingly. assented to her husband's departure. The visit was to last for two months, and was begun within a little while after Mrs. Donne's consent had been gained.

The party reached Paris safely. Two days after their arrival there, Donne was left alone in the room where Sir Robert and he, with some others, had dined. About half-an-hour after his departure, Sir Robert returned, and found Dr. Donne where he had left him, but in such a state of agitation, and so strangely altered in his looks, that he was perfectly amazed at him, and earnestly desired him to inform him what had happened during the short space of time in which he had been left. At first Donne was not sufficiently collected to reply, but after a long and perplexed pause, answered:

"I have seen a dreadful vision since I saw you. I