he afterwards gave will be best known from his own words.

"In company one day with the late Dr. Letsom, of London, the conversation turning on the resuscitation of persons apparently dead from drowning; Dr. L. said, 'Of all that I have seen restored, or questioned afterwards; I never found one who had the smallest recollection of any thing that passed from the moment they went under water, till the time in which they were restored to life and thought.' Dr. Clarke answered, ‘Dr. L., I knew a case to the contrary.' 'Did you indeed ?" ‘Yes, Dr. L., and the case was my own: I was once drowned,' and then I related the circumstances; and added, ‘I saw my danger, but thought the mare would swim, and I knew I could ride; when we were both overwhelmed, it appeared to me that I had gone to the bottom with my eyes open. At first I thought I saw the bottom clearly, and then felt neither apprehension nor pain; on the contrary, I felt as if I had been in the most delightful situation: my mind was tranquil, and uncommonly happy; I felt as if in Paradise, and yet I do not recollect that I saw any person; the impressions of happiness seemed not to be derived from any thing around me, but from the state of my mind; and yet I had a general apprehension of pleasing objects; and I cannot recollect that any thing appeared defined, nor did my eye take in any object, only I had a general impression of a green colour, such as of fields or gardens; but my happiness did not arise from these, but appeared to consist merely in the tranquil, indescribably tranquil, state of my mind. By and bye I seemed to awake as out of a slumber, and felt unutterable pain, and difficulty of breathing; and now I found I had been carried by a strong wave, and left in very shallow water upon the shore; and the pain I felt was occasioned by the air once more inflating my lungs, and producing respiration. How long I had been under water I cannot tell: it may however be guessed at by this circumstance:when restored to the power of reflection, I looked for the mare, and saw her walking leisurely down shore towards home; then about half a mile distant from the place where we were submerged. Now I aver, 1. That in being drowned, Ifelt no pain. 2. That I did not for a single moment lose my consciousness. 3. I felt indescribably happy, and though dead, as to the total suspension of all the functions of life, yet I felt no pain in dying: and I take for granted from this circumstance, that those who die by drowning, feel no pain; and that probably, it is the easiest of all deaths. 4. That I felt no pain till once more exposed to the action of the atmospheric air; and then I felt great pain and anguish in returning to life; which anguish, had I continued under water, I should have never felt. 5. That animation must have been totally suspended from the

time I must have been under water: which time might be in some measure ascertained by the distance the mare was from the place of my submersion, which was at least half a mile, and she was not, when I fist observed her, making any speed. 6. Whether there were any thing preternatural in my escape, I cannot tell: or whether a ground swell had not in a merely natural way borne me to the shore, and the retrocession of the tide, (for it was then ebbing,) left me exposed to the open air, I cannot tell. My preservation might have been the effect of natural causes; and yet it appears to be more rational to attribute it to a superior agency. Here then, Dr. L., is a case widely different, it appears, from those you have witnessed and which argues very little for the modish doctrine of the materiality of the soul!' Dr. Letsom appeared puzzled with this relation, but did not attempt to make any remarks on it. Perhaps the subject itself may not be unworthy of the consideration of some of our minute philosophers."

:

I shall relate two other remarkable accidents which occurred in his neighbourhood about this time.

A neighbouring farmer, Mr. David Reed, had the reputation in the country of being extremely rich. Several attempts had been made to rob his house, but they had all failed. At last a servant, who had lately lived with him, and knew the way of the house, plotted with one Cain, a cooper, and one Digny, a schoolmaster, and a fellow of the name of M'Henry, to rob the house on a Sabbath evening. Neither of them lived in that neighbourhood: they rendezvoused in a town called Garvagh, about a mile and a half from the place, where they purchased a couple of candles. They left that about eleven o'clock at night, and concealed themselves somewhere in the fields, till about two in the morning. They then came to the house and had a consultation, which was the best method of entering.At first they got a long ladder and reared it against the house, intending to strip off some of the thatch above the kitchen, and enter that way, as there was no flooring above it. This they afterwards gave up as too tedious, and likely to lead to a discovery. They were now about to abandon their design, when Digny, a man of desperate courage, upbraided them with cowardice; and said, "Will you resign an enterprise in which you are likely to acquire so large a booty, because there appear to be some difficulties in the way?" After a little parley, they came to the resolution to take the house by storm, and Digny agreed to enter first, by suddenly dashing the kitchen window to pieces. He stripped off his coat and waistcoat, tied a garter round each arm to confine his shirt, one about each knee to render him more firm, and one round his waist, in which he stuck his pistols, and tied a handkerchief over his face, with three holes cut in it, one for his mouth and two for his eyes. He then, in a moment, dashed the window to pieces, passed

through it, and leaped down from the sill, and though he alighted on a spinning-wheel, and broke it in pieces, yet he did not stumble! He flew in a moment to the door, unlocked it, and let two of the gang in, the fourth, M'Henry, standing without as sentry. The lock being a very good one, the bolt went back with so loud a noise as to awaken Mr. Reed, who lay in a room off the kitchen, on the same floor. A young man of the name of Kennedy, a servant in the family, lay in a room next to that of his master, only separated from it by a narrow passage, which divided two sets of rooms on the right and left.Cooper Cain, and the other accomplice, went immediately to the fire, which being in that country formed of turf was raked up in its own ashes, and began to pull out the coals in order to light their candle. Mr. Reed having been awakened as before related, jumped out of bed, ran up the passage towards the kitchen, and cried out "Who is there?" Digny, who was standing ready with his hanger drawn, waiting for the light, which the others were endeavoring to procure, hearing the voice, made a blow at the place whence it came, but did not see that the old man had not yet passed through the door into the kitchen; the hanger caught the bricks above the door head, broke out more than a pound weight off one of them, above the lintel, slided down, and laid Mr. Reed's right cheek open from the eye to the lower jaw. Had he been six inches more advanced the blow would have cleft his head in two. The old man feeling himself wounded, sprang desperately forward and seized the assassin, who immediately dropped his hanger, which he could no longer use, (for Mr. Reed, who was a powerful man, had seized him by both his arms,) closed in and grappled with Mr. R. Kennedy, who had been awake even before the window was broken, arose, and while his master and Digny were struggling in the passage, got past them, went into the kitchen where a charged gun was hanging on hooks high up on the wall, ascended a large chest, seized the gun, which he not being able to get readily out of the hooks, with a desperate pull brought the hook out of the wall, descended from the chest, squeezed by his master and the assassin, still struggling in the passage, cocked it, and was going to fire, but could not discern his master from the robber. With great presence of mind he delayed till Cain and his confederate having succeeded in lighting their candle, (which they found very difficult, not having a match,) he was able to discern between his master and Digny. In that moment he fired, and shot the latter through the heart, who instantly fell, and Mr. Reed on the top of him. Kennedy having discharged his piece, immediately cried out, "I have shot one of them, hand me the other gun." Cain and his accomplice hearing the report, and seeing what was done, immediately extinguished their candle, issued out at the door, and they and M'Henry fled for their lives.

Though it has taken some time to describe the circumstances of this transaction, yet the Reader must not imagine that much time had elapsed from the forcible entry till the death of Digny. All these circumstances were crowded into two or three minutes. Kennedy then flew to the door, relocked it, threw chairs, tables, &c. against it and the window, reloaded his gun, into which in his hurry, he put nearly eleven inches of powder and shot, and stood ready to meet another attack.

But who can describe the horrors of this family, expecting every moment a more powerful assault, none daring to go out, or open the door to seek for help, the house being at some distance from the rest of the village! There were in the house, only Mr. Reed, an aged, infirm sister, a little boy, and Kennedy the servant man. Mr. Reed, partly with the alarm, partly with the wound and consequent loss of blood, was reduced to great weakness, and his mind became so disturbed that he could scarcely believe the slain assassin who lay on the floor, was not his own servant Kennedy who had been shot by the robber.

At length after several hours of the deepest anxiety, daylight returned, and brought assurance and confidence to this distressed family. The issue of this business was, M'Henry turned king's evidence, and the old servant was taken and hanged; but Cooper Cain fled, and was never heard of more. Digny was buried like a dog without coffin, &c. in the church-yard, but afterwards had an untimely resurrecction. One of A. C.'s school-fellows, who was then apprentice to a surgeon, came with a fellow-apprentice to the grave-yard after night, dug him up, put him in a sack, laid him across a horse, one of them riding behind to hold him on, and thus carried him to Coleraine, a distance of twelve miles, which they reached before daylight; and taking him to the market-house, one of the surgeons, Mr. Ellison, opened him and gave the young men a lecture on the subject in general; after which he was buried at the foot of the rampart. Kennedy got forty pounds at the county assizes: his master put him to school for a time, and it was naturally supposed, that as he had no child he would provide for him during life, but Mr. R. died soon after and left his preserver nothing!

There was a circumstance in the case worthy of remark: Mr. R. had lent his gun to a man who lived several miles off: on Saturday evening, Kennedy asked liberty from his master to go and bring home the gun, which was with difficulty granted. Had not the gun been brought home that night, there is no doubt the house would not only have been robbed, but every soul murdered; as it was evident they had intended to leave no person alive to tell tales.

The second instance I have to relate, was still more melancholy. An equestrian came to that country, and performed

several remarkable feats of horsemanship. He could manage the wildest horses; and permitted people to fire off guns and pistols while practising the most dangerous positions. He had appointed a day to perform in a large open field; multitudes went to see him, and many fired off guns during the exhibition. A nephew of the same Mr. Reed was on the ground, and had the same gun with him with which Digny was shot. He, supposing that it had been discharged and charged again with powder only, (whereas it had a heavy charge of duck-shot,) fired low near the horse's side, as the equestrian rode by in that part of the ring. Lieutenant Stephen Church, A. C.'s brother, and Mr. William Clark, one of his school-fellows, standing together in the opposite side of the ring, the principal part of the charge entered the Lieutenant's right leg, and tore it almost to pieces. Several shot entered one of the legs of Mr. W. Clark, and A. C.'s brother had his shoe ploughed in several places, by the shot, but he was not wounded. A mortification taking place, the leg was amputated in a very unskilful manner, and the Lieutenant shortly after died. What was very remarkable in this case was; Lieut. C. had lived what was called a GAY, that is, a worldly, careless, life; without, apparently, any sense of religion: from the moment he was wounded, he laid his eternal interests most deeply to heart; and spent the interval between the accident and his death, which was some weeks, in deeply mourning for past errors, and in incessant prayer for redemption through the Friend of sinners.

It is worthy of remark that, that gun, which was esteemed the best in the neighbourhood, had killed Digny, killed Lieut. Church, and killed a nephew of Mr. Reed's;-he was found in a field, where he had gone out on a fowling excursion, lying against a bank, his brains blown out, and the gun lying by his side! This circumstance would have served for a place in the Miscellanies of Sir John Aubrey, who might suppose that fatalities were attached to particular instruments, as well as to particular places and times.

Shortly after Lieutenant Church received his wound, his brother, George Church, Esq., a gentleman of very large estates, was killed by a fall from his horse. Previously to these two disasters, strange noises were heard in the mansionhouse called the Grove. The doors were said to have opened and shut of themselves; sometimes all the pewter dishes, &c. on the dresser in the kitchen, were so violently agitated as to appear to have been thrown down on the floor, though nothing was moved from its place. Sometimes heavy treading was heard where no human being was; and often, as if a person had fallen at whole length on the floor, above the kitchen! A. C. sat up one whole night in that kitchen, during Lieut. Church's indisposition, and most distinctly heard