sent through me, as its keen edges forced their way through the crevices of the roof over my head. At length, and after much tumbling and tossing, I fell asleep--or believed that I did so; and presently I awoke again--or so it seemed to me. What was sleeping, and what was waking, I scarcely knew, that night.

Suddenly, there, between us--between myself, I mean, and the white, shining hill-side--came an object, undefined in form but palpable in substance, waving gently to and fro, passing and repassing before the window, and at last appearing almost to touch it. Finally it became stationary there, yet still undulating with that soft tremulous motion which you may have noticed in the humming-bird, when, poised upon his delicate wings, he darts his slender tongue into the petals of a favourite flower. "What in the world is it?" I exclaimed; and had just fancied that I could see a few slight cords reaching from it upwards, above the upper edge of the window, when I distinctly heard a rap upon the pane, and sprung from my bed, in wonderment, but not in fear. The glass melted away--frame-work to the casement there was none--I passed outwards, unconscious how or wherefore. I was seated, warmly and comfortably seated, springing aloft into the moonlit and starry sky.

Then I knew that it was a balloon. It rose at the instant, and sped rapidly through the air. The wind was strong, but blowing a steady gale; not in gusts now, as it had been. And I felt that it was from the south, for it was soft and balmy; and I knew that I was driving towards the Polar star, for I saw it; and saw it growing larger and more luminous.

Then my spirit yearned after the missing Mariners; and I prayed Heaven that I might be on my way to find them. On we sped; but I was conscious, though the southerly gales were wafting me to the frozen regions of the North, that there was a spirit beneath or behind me, guiding the tiny car in which I was borne. I felt that he was there, though I strove in vain to detect his presence. Slily did I glance over my shoulder, abruptly did I turn my head, cautiously did I crane over the edge--I could not see him. I felt him directing my looks to what I beheld, shaping my thoughts whitherward they went; but it pleased him to remain invisible.

It was yet night. Many rivers did we cross in our progress, some looking inky-black as they flowed between snowy banks, others dimly made out, and lost in the one unvaried tone. Lakes were there, too, and cities sparsely scattered. The latter were mostly slumbering in the same quiet as the former; but ascending from one I heard the 

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