“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 a struggle within me such as Lazarus might have felt when he endeavored to break through his grave cerements.  It was frightful, that effort for mastery!

I understand it now.  It was the soul fighting its way into birth as a spiritual being, like a child fighting its way out of its mother’s womb.

I remember feeling faint and confused after that, like one who has long been deprived of food.  An unconsciousness stole over me for a moment, from which I was awakened by a sudden burst of light.  I seemed to open my eyes upon some glorious morning.  I felt an arm around me; I turned and met the smiling face of my son.  I thought myself in a dream, and yet I was filled with awe.

I had a consciousness that some strange transformation had taken place.  My son’s voice murmured in my ear, “Father, go with me now.”  As he spoke, his voice sounded like the vibration of distant bells.  When he touched me a fire seemed to thrill through my veins.  I felt like a boy; a wild, prankish sensation of freedom possessed me.  My body lay upon the ground.  I laughed at it; I could have taken it and tossed it in the air.