The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1882-03-14
Selfrt Stnry.
LIFE IN DEATH.
A STRANGE EXPERIENCE.
By MARION MouLToN.

"She Is dead p
These three words, proceeding from
the lips of an eminent physician, and
spoken in the low, solemn tone so gene
rally used to convey sad tidings, an
nouDced to my weeping friends that I
had ceased to be.
But the dotor, as doctors often are,
wss mistaken. l was not dead. / was
aot sgsn asleep. heard, as distinctly
as I can now hear, every word he said.
felt, as perceptibly as can now feel,
the clasp of his fingers upon my wrist
and pulse. But the power of motion
had ceased-the motion of will, the mo-
lion of lungs, the motion of the heart
ALI was still throughout the bo6y-as
still as If death reigned there Yet every
sense seemed alive-acutely alive.
could hear, / could see, / could feel--I
knew not that / could rot have smelled
and tasted.
There was strangeness about these
senses, though. | seemed to be in the
body, vet out of it. seemed to hear
with my ears, see with my eyes, feel with
my nerves, and at the same time be so
Independent of my mortal form as to
have a complete identity without it.
Where my actual, living self was, l could
not clearly comprehend My body /
knew was there, on the bed-stretched
out as if in death-pale, still, lifeless-
and around this body we're collected my
weeping family-my mother, my hus-
band, 10y two children-:ogether with
the doctor, q black nurse and servant,
and some two or three sympathizing 'e-
males, strangers to me, who had come 10
to inquire about my condition and had
remained to see me die.
l was at hotel in an interior town in
Virginia, and had been travelling for
more than a month for the benefit of my
health, which had been on the decline
for year. We had left our home in
New York, stopping at Philadelphia,
Baltimore and Washington, and were at
last on our way to the White Sulphur
Springs of Greenhrier County, Virgin
ia, travelling slowly through mountain
Gus region, when had gradually become
so i'll as to be unable to proceed. A
weeks sickness-during which l had had
the best medical skill of that region, and
the most devoted care and attention.
had resulted, as was believed, in my de-
cease.
It was about ten o'clock In the MORN
ing of beautiful day in midsummer.
The win lows of my apartment we're
open; ami the clear, delightful air of the
mountainous region came gently in,
bringing the sweet perfume OF flowers,
the soft rustic of leaves. playing With
The curtains and lightly kissing the fe.
fered brow of the mourners.
And they were mourners indeed-lhat
group of four of my nearest and dear
est kin that were gathered around my
bed. There stood my gray-halred moth
er, silently gazing upon my inanimate
form through great scalding tears thai
we're following each other down her fur
rowed cheeks. There stood the beloved
partner of my bosom, speechless and
fearless in his hravipg agony, slowly
rubbing one hand over the other, with
no power to give vent to feelings tha
were internally rending his manly frame
There stood my two children-my
brigat-eyed boy of ten and my swee
little girl of eight both crying and sob
bing as il their little hearts would break
Oh, how / longed and struggled t.
force my lips to move and say that wa
not dead THAT q loving daughter, wifi,
and mother was still with them in tn,
earthly land
Slo 0lp, with respectful steps, the doc
tor withdrew, and one by one the othe
st rangers followed him till only the blacl
nurse and my own family remained.
"Oh, mamma! my dear, dear nam
NAL" now burst from my little fair-hair
ed Ada. as lmpulsively she seized AM
pressed to her bosom the same hand th
doctor had let fall-"won't you speak t.
me again 2 won't you speak to me again
if only just once, dear mamma! if onl
lust once! Speak once more to you
dear little Ada, mamma! won't you
won't your"
Oh, how ! struggled to comply wit
her passionate prayer! and what
strange thrill of agony went tbroug
my whole being when l found myse
poweress to move single muscle {
my lifeless form!
"Ynur poor mamma is dead, my des
childw said my own mother in a chok
ing voice; she will never speak to an
of US again!'
"No! no!" cried Ada, with childlih
eagerness "dear mammals not dead!
won't have her dead will you, Edgar
will you, papaf" and she passionatel
kissed my hand, again and again, an
fairly bathed it with her tears
"Oh, nv Godl my God! this bio
will kill mel" groaned my husban