Strange Visitors | Page 2

that of the authors named.
In the delivery of the articles, their composers would usually assume or personate their own individual characteristics; thus, Artemus Ward's conversation and gestures were exceedingly ludicrous. He was the very personification of mirth, occasionally going to the wall and humorously "chalking out" his designs. Archbishop Hughes expressed himself in a quiet, earnest, and eloquent manner. Lady Blessington was full of vivacity, and Margaret Fuller was our Presiding Angel; while Booth would become vehement to an intense degree, and at times would mount some article of furniture in the room, becoming passionately eloquent, as if again upon the "mimic stage of life."
An intelligent public will perceive the mental effort incident upon the production of a series of articles so unusually varied; embracing the distinctive qualities of Philosophy, Science, Religion, Political Economy, Government, Satire, Humor, Poetry, Fiction, Narrative, Art, Astronomy, etc., etc.; and the query has fitly been advanced,--what mind, in the exercise of its normal functions,--has furnished a consecutive number of essays so surprising in novelty, so diverse in sentiment, so consistent in treatment, and so forcibly original, as those embraced in this volume? What intellect so versatile as to reproduce in song and narrative the characteristic styles of so many, and yet so dissimilar authors?
In designating the locality of the Second Life, frequent repetition of certain terms, such as spirit world, etc., were unavoidable. For weeks and months the unseen visitors were punctual to their appointments, and this novel mode of book-making proceeded steadily in interest and variety until the volume was completed.
The work is now inscribed to a discriminating public, with a lively confidence that the advanced intelligence and freedom of the age will yield it an ingenuous reception.
HENRY J. HORN.
NEW YORK, _October 1st_, 1869.

STRANGE VISITORS.

HENRY J. RAYMOND.
TO THE NEW YORK PUBLIC.
I have often thought that if it should ever be my privilege to become a ghost I would enlighten the poor, benighted denizens of the earth as to how I did it, and give a more definite account of what I should see, and the transformation that would befall me, than either Benjamin Franklin or George Washington had been able to do in the jargon that had been set before me by Spiritualists as coming from those worthies.
"Stuff!" I have exclaimed again and again, after looking over spirit communications and wondering why a man should become so stilted because he had lost his avoirdupoise.
The opportunity which I boasted I would not let slip has arrived. The public must judge of how I avail myself of this ghostly power.
Now and then I was troubled with strange misgivings about the future life. I had a hope that man might live hereafter, but death was a solemn fact to me, into whose mystery I did not wish too closely to pry.
"Presentiments," as the great English novelist remarks, "are strange things." That connection with some coming event which one feels like a shadowy hand softly touching him, is inexplicable to most men.
I remember to have felt several times in my life undefined foreshadowings of some future which was to befall me; and just previous to my departure from earth, as has been generally stated in the journals of the day, I experienced a similar sensation. An awful blank seemed before me--a great chasm into which I would soon be hurled. This undefined terror took no positive shape.
After the death of my son I felt like one who stood upon a round ball which rolled from under him and left him nowhere.
The sudden death of James Harper added another shock to that which I had already felt. I did not understand then, though I have since comprehended it, that I was like some great tree, rooted in the ground, which could not be dragged from the earth in which it was buried until it had received some sudden blow to loosen its hold and make its grip less tenacious.
But in the very midst of these feelings I sought the society of friends, and endeavored around the social board to exhilarate my senses and drown these undesirable fancies.
Life seemed more secure among friends, but death was not to be dodged. It caught me unarmed and alone at midnight in the very doorway of my house.
I had crossed the threshold, and remember trying to find the stairs and being seized with a dizziness. The place seemed to spin around and I felt that I was falling. Next, a great weight seemed to press me down like some horrid nightmare. I endeavored to groan, to cry out and struggle from under it, but it held me fast. After this I seemed to be falling backward through a blackness--an inky blackness. It came close to me, and pressed close upon my lips and my eyes. It smothered me; I could not breathe.
Then ensued