FREDERIKA BREMER
_FLIGHT TO MY STARRY HOME_.
I was in Stockholm when the ambassador, who is sent by the all-wise Father to pilot his children to the unknown land of roses, called for me, and I was obliged to part with the body which, though homely and unattractive, like the dear, good “family roof,”[A] had rendered me service in many a stormy day.
[A] Swedish term for umbrella.
The feeling I experienced in taking my departure was like that of going out into a pitiless storm, and it was followed by an intense prickling sensation, similar to that familiarly known as the “foot asleep.” This, I afterwards understood, was occasioned by the electrical current passing through my spirit as it assumed shape upon emerging from its old frame.
Some twenty minutes perhaps elapsed after the breath leaving the body before I became perfectly conscious in my new form. Upon recovering the use of my senses, my whole attention was drawn from myself to the friends who had gathered in the room which had so recently been my sick chamber.
As I watched them combing the hair and attiring the white, stiff figure that lay so solemnly stretched upon the couch, my emotions were indescribable. I endeavored to speak, but my voice gave but a faint sound, which they evidently did not hear—as a spirit, I attracted no attention. This caused me deep grief, for I desired them all to see me still living.
My sad emotions were presently dispelled by the sound of most mellifluous music bursting upon my senses; and as I turned my eyes to discover the source from whence it proceeded, I beheld, resurrected before me, a group of dear old friends, whose bodies were already dust and ashes in the Swedish grave-yards, and in the cemeteries of the old and new worlds. A hearty burst of joy escaped from my lips as I recognized them. We laughed, cried, shook hands, and kissed first on one cheek and then on the other, with the same enthusiasm and naturalness we would have shown had we been inhabitants of dear old mother Earth.
“Come, Frederika! Dear Frederika! don’t stay gazing on that old body! Leave friends who cannot talk with you and come with us!” they clamored on all sides. Their voices were like a full orchestra; besides, some had instruments of music, upon which they improvised little songs to my honor. I was fairly bewildered. Presently they formed a circle about me and commenced whirling rapidly around and around. I felt as in a hammock swayed by the wind; a dreamy lethargy stole over me, and I gradually became unconscious; and thus, I am told, they bore me through the earth’s atmosphere, out in the stellar spaces, to a new world—a world not of the earth, earthy, but the New Jerusalem which I had so often pictured to my fancy.
A soft, pleasant breeze blowing directly upon my face, restored me to consciousness. I opened my eyes, and, lo! I was reclining upon a divan in a great pavilion. The friends whom I had previously recognized were around me, some making magnetic passes over me, others engaged in preparations for my comfort. Upon seeing me awaken, several friends approached with flowers and fruits. The term “flowers,” though a beautiful appellation, gives but a faint idea of these marvellous creations.
My attention was particularly attracted to one whose corolla was of deep violet striped with gold, having long silvery filaments spreading out from the cup in lines of light like the luminous trail of a comet.