A Journey from this World to the Next | Page 5

perceived a beam of light glimmering
at the top of the house (for such I may call the body I had been inclosed
in), whither ascending, I gently let myself down through a kind of
chimney, and issued out at the nostrils.
[1] Some doubt whether this should not be rather 1641, which is a date
more agreeable to the account given of it in the introduction: but then
there are some passages which seem to relate to transactions infinitely
later, even within this year or two. To say the truth there are difficulties
attending either conjecture; so the reader may take which he pleases.

No prisoner discharged from a long confinement ever tasted the sweets
of liberty with a more exquisite relish than I enjoyed in this delivery
from a dungeon wherein I had been detained upwards of forty years,
and with much the same kind of regard I cast my eyes[2] backwards
upon it.
[2] Eyes are not perhaps so properly adapted to a spiritual substance;
but we are here, as in many other places, obliged to use corporeal terms
to make ourselves the better understood.
My friends and relations had all quitted the room, being all (as I plainly
overheard) very loudly quarreling below stairs about my will; there was
only an old woman left above to guard the body, as I apprehend. She
was in a fast sleep, occasioned, as from her savor it seemed, by a
comfortable dose of gin. I had no pleasure in this company, and,
therefore, as the window was wide open, I sallied forth into the open air:
but, to my great astonishment, found myself unable to fly, which I had
always during my habitation in the body conceived of spirits; however,
I came so lightly to the ground that I did not hurt myself; and, though I
had not the gift of flying (owing probably to my having neither feathers
nor wings), I was capable of hopping such a prodigious way at once,
that it served my turn almost as well. I had not hopped far before I
perceived a tall young gentleman in a silk waistcoat, with a wing on his
left heel, a garland on his head, and a caduceus in his right hand.[3] I
thought I had seen this person before, but had not time to recollect
where, when he called out to me and asked me how long I had been
departed. I answered I was just come forth. "You must not stay here,"
replied he, "unless you had been murdered: in which case, indeed, you
might have been suffered to walk some time; but if you died a natural
death you must set out for the other world immediately." I desired to
know the way. "O," cried the gentleman, "I will show you to the inn
whence the stage proceeds; for I am the porter. Perhaps you never
heard of me--my name is Mercury." "Sure, sir," said I, "I have seen you
at the play- house." Upon which he smiled, and, without satisfying me
as to that point, walked directly forward, bidding me hop after him. I
obeyed him, and soon found myself in Warwick-lane; where Mercury,
making a full stop, pointed at a particular house, where he bade me

enquire for the stage, and, wishing me a good journey, took his leave,
saying he must go seek after other customers.
[3] This is the dress in which the god appears to mortals at the theaters.
One of the offices attributed to this god by the ancients, was to collect
the ghosts as a shepherd doth a flock of sheep, and drive them with his
wand into the other world.
I arrived just as the coach was setting out, and found I had no reason
for inquiry; for every person seemed to know my business the moment
I appeared at the door: the coachman told me his horses were to, but
that he had no place left; however, though there were already six, the
passengers offered to make room for me. I thanked them, and ascended
without much ceremony. We immediately began our journey, being
seven in number; for, as the women wore no hoops, three of them were
but equal to two men. Perhaps, reader, thou mayest be pleased with an
account of this whole equipage, as peradventure thou wilt not, while
alive, see any such. The coach was made by an eminent toyman, who is
well known to deal in immaterial substance, that being the matter of
which it was compounded. The work was so extremely fine, that it was
entirely invisible to the human eye. The horses which drew this
extraordinary vehicle were all spiritual, as well as the passengers. They
had, indeed, all died in the service of a certain postmaster; and as