which had not felt the effects of the terrific storm of thunder and rain, there came a feeling, that there was a vast difference between my then present state, and that in which the aerial journey from the city in the East was accomplished. In both cases, the altitude reached was probably the same, or approximately so; but in the first flight I was not one-fiftieth part as conscious, or awake, as during the second: there was also a difference in the rapidity of motion.
The individual calling himself Thotmor, and concerning whose reality I am perfectly convinced, now moved through the air at but a slight elevation above me; while formerly, I had not seen him at all, previous to making his acquaintance near the house of the sleepy student.
At one time, among my other miseries, there possessed me a very uncomfortable apprehension, lest, by some mishap, my guide should be unable to sustain me, and that I should fall. Now the reader will say, "That was impossible; for a spirit, being lighter than air, must necessarily ascend." Another one will say, "True, so it must; but being so very much lighter than air, what is to hinder it from going up with a rush—what prevents it from going up vertically with the speed of a rifle ball, seeing that the pressure of air must force it upward with a power almost inconceivable? How is it that a spirit gets to earth at all, seeing that light bodies cannot displace heavy ones; and how could a spirit move off at an angle at all?"
These, and a multitude of other questions were present in my mind, along with many novel suggestions, provoked by the peculiar circumstances in which the narrator of these experiences was placed.
