A crowd collected around me. I heard them commiserating my fate. They looked at me, and then at the steeple, as if measuring the distance from whence I had fallen; but they offered me no assistance. They dispersed—I slowly raised myself on my feet—all was cold and still as the grave. Regions of ice—an immense transparent mirror, extended on every side around me. The cold, smooth plain, was only measured by the horizon. I found myself on skates;—I rushed along, outstripping the winds,—I ascended mountains of ice,—I descended like a meteor—Russia, with her frozen torrents,—Siberia with its eternal snows, were behind me,—miles and degrees were nothing—on I rushed,—Iceland vanished,—with the speed of a thunderbolt I passed Spitzbergen,—days, weeks expired, but still I sped forward, without fatigue, without exhaustion. How delightfully I glided along—no effort—no exertion—all was still, cold, and brilliant. I neared the pole,—the explorers were slowly wending their tedious way,—they hailed me, but I could not stop,—I was out of sight in an instant. I saw an immense object swinging to and fro in the distance—it was the great and mighty pendulum. As I neared it, a confused noise of voices broke upon my ear,—mathematical terms echoed and re-echoed each other, like the hum of a bee-hive. I was surrounded with winged chronometers, barometers and magnets—plus, (+) minus (-) and the roots (√ √) were flying around me in every direction, jostling each other without mercy. Great long-legged compasses with knowing look were gravely listening to the measured tick of prim chronometers, and groups of angles and parallelograms watched the variations of the needle. Every instrument of science appeared collected in solemn conclave, for great and mighty purpose,—but soon all was hubbub and confusion. The compasses and Gunther’s scale had come to blows. Angles and triangles, oblongs and cones, formed a ring around them. Little cylinders and circles came rolling in from every quarter to see the fun, and bottle-holding squares and cubes stood stoutly at their champions’ sides, while electric jars mounted on a neighbouring dial, in highest glee, spirited forth whole streams of snapping sparks to incite them in the contest. The scale was down, and the compass bestrode him in proud defiance; but the bottle-holders interfering, all was instant uproar and confusion, and the fight soon became one common melée. Pins flew about, and springs and wheels went whizzing through the throng, but amid the tumult, suddenly appeared a huge electrical machine, grinding wrathfully along, and soon the field was cleared, and nought was seen save here and there some limping figure hobbling off in desperate precipitation. But amid the uproar, the giant pendulum still swung forward and backward with the noiseless motion of the incubus;—I neared it and saw that the top of the huge rod was riveted by the pole star, which shone with the intensity of the diamond. But—but—