In my younger days, there was a dinner given in the village of Floremburgh, Westphalia, where I was born, on the occasion of a baptism, to which the clergyman, a worthy man, was invited. During dinner, the conversation turned upon the grave-digger of the place, who was well known, particularly on account of his second-sight, and even feared; for as often as he saw a corpse, he was always telling that there would be a funeral out of such a house. Now, as the event invariably took place, the inhabitants of the house he indicated were placed by the man’s tale in the greatest dilemma and anxiety, particularly if there was any one in the house who was sickly, whose death might probably be hastened if the prediction was not concealed from him—which, however, generally took place. This man’s prophecying was an abomination to the clergyman. He forbade it, he reproved, he scolded, but all to no purpose; for the poor dolt, although he was a drunkard, and a man of low and vulgar sentiments, believed firmly that it was a prophetic gift of God, and that he must make it known, in order that the people might still repent. At length, as all reproof was in vain, the clergyman gave him notice that if he announced one funeral more, he should be deprived of his place, and expelled the village. This availed—the grave-digger was silent from that time forward. Half a year afterward, in autumn, about the year 1745, the grave-digger comes to27 the clergyman and says: “Sir, you have forbidden me to announce any more funerals, and I have not done so since, nor will I do so any more; but I must now tell you something that is particularly remarkable, that you may see that my second-sight is really true. In a few weeks a corpse will be brought up the meadow, which will be drawn on a sledge by an ox.” The clergyman seemingly paid no attention to this, but listened to it with indifference, and replied: “Only go about your business, and leave off such superstitious follies; it is sinful to have anything to do with them.” The thing, nevertheless, appeared extremely singular and remarkable to the clergyman; for, in my country, a corpse being drawn on a sledge by an ox is most disgraceful, because the bodies of those that commit suicide, and notorious malefactors, are thus drawn on sledges. Some weeks after a strong body of Austrian troops passed through the village on their way to the Netherlands. While resting there a day, the snow fell nearly three feet deep. At the same time, a woman died in another village of the same parish. The military took away all the horses out of the country to drag their wagons. Meanwhile the corpse lay there; no horses came back; the corpse began to putrify, and the stench became intolerable: they were, therefore, compelled to make a virtue of necessity—to place the corpse upon a sledge and harness an ox to the vehicle.