Chapter i.
_The author dies, meets with Mercury, and is by him conducted to thestage which sets out for the other world._
On the first day of December 1741[A] I departed this life at my lodgingsin Cheapside. My body had been some time dead before I was at liberty toquit it, lest it should by any accident return to life: this is aninjunction imposed on all souls by the eternal law of fate, to preventthe inconveniences which would follow. As soon as the destined periodwas expired (being no longer than till the body is become perfectly coldand stiff) I began to move; but found myself under a difficulty ofmaking my escape, for the mouth or door was shut, so that it wasimpossible for me to go out at it; and the windows, vulgarly called theeyes, were so closely pulled down by the fingers of a nurse, that Icould by no means open them. At last I perceived a beam of lightglimmering at the top of the house (for such I may call the body I hadbeen inclosed in), whither ascending, I gently let myself down through akind of chimney, and issued out at the nostrils.
No prisoner discharged from a long confinement ever tasted the sweets ofliberty with a more exquisite relish than I enjoyed in this deliveryfrom a dungeon wherein I had been detained upwards of forty years, andwith much the same kind of regard I cast my eyes[B] backwards upon it.
My friends and relations had all quitted the room, being all (as Iplainly overheard) very loudly quarrelling below stairs about my will;there was only an old woman left above to guard the body, as Iapprehend. She was in a fast sleep, occasioned, as from her savour itseemed, 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 theopen air: but, to my great astonishment, found myself unable to fly,which I had always during my habitation in the body conceived ofspirits; however, I came so lightly to the ground that I did not hurtmyself; and, though I had not the gift of flying (owing probably to myhaving neither feathers nor wings), I was capable of hopping such aprodigious 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 silkwaistcoat, with a wing on his left heel, a garland on his head, and acaduceus in his right hand.[C] I thought I had seen this person before,but had not time to recollect where, when he called out to me and askedme how long I had been departed. I answered I was just come forth. "Youmust not stay here," replied he, "unless you had been murdered: in whichcase, indeed, you might have been suffered to walk some time; but if youdied 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 tothe inn whence the stage proceeds; for I am the porter. Perhaps younever heard of me--my name is Mercury." "Sure, sir," said I, "I haveseen you at the playhouse." Upon which he smiled, and, withoutsatisfying me as to that point, walked directly forward, bidding me hopafter him. I obeyed him, and soon found myself in Warwick-lane; whereMercury, making a full stop, pointed at a particular house, where he badme enquire for the stage, and, wishing me a good journey, took hisleave, saying he must go seek after other customers.
I arrived just as the coach was setting out, and found I had no reasonfor enquiry; for every person seemed to know my business the moment Iappeared at the door: the coachman told me his horses were to, but thathe had no place left; however, though there were already six, thepassengers offered to make room for me. I thanked them, and ascendedwithout much ceremony. We immediately began our journey, being seven innumber; for, as the women wore no hoops, three of them were but equal totwo men.
Perhaps, reader, thou mayest be pleased with an account of this wholeequipage, as peradventure thou wilt not, while alive, see any such. Thecoach was made by an eminent toyman, who is well known to deal inimmaterial substance, that being the matter of which it was compounded.The work was so extremely fine, that it was entirely invisible to thehuman eye. The horses which drew this extraordinary vehicle were allspiritual, as well as the passengers. They had, indeed, all died in theservice of a certain post-master; and as for the coachman, who was avery thin piece of immaterial substance, he had the honour while aliveof driving the Great Peter, or Peter the Great, in whose service hissoul, as well as body, was almost starved to death.
Such was the vehicle in which I set out, and now, those who are notwilling to travel on with me may, if they please, stop here; those whoare, must proceed to the subsequent chapters, in which this journey iscontinued.