There, too, stands Min. The current is bearing me to her; but, again, ere I can touch the spot where she stands, my boat careens heavily against a drifting berg, and is dashed to pieces. Instead of sinking in the water, however, I feel myself floating in air. The atmosphere that encircles me is all rosy illumination, as it had been during the Alpine sunrise. I hear the most beautiful, heavenly music, and the sound as of many voices singing together in the sweetest of harmonies. I see the gilded domes and minarets of a wondrous city that seems to be built in the centre of the zenith. I am wafted nearer and nearer to it, borne up on the pinions of the air. And, now, I can discern its golden gates! There, stands Min, again, before them. She is clothed all in a white garment, that gives out a radiance as of light; while, on her head is a jewelled crown, fashioned in the shape of olive leaves and fastened in front with a single diamond star, whose beams almost blind me. Both her outstretched hands are extended to greet me. A loving smile is on her lips, in her eyes. I can hear the beautiful music chiming louder and louder; the harmony of the voice-chorus echoing more and more distinctly; I am on the threshold of the golden gates; I am just clasping Min's outstretched welcoming hands with oh, such a fond, enduring clasp; when--I awake. This time my reveil is in real earnest:--the vision had passed! It is broad daylight; and, a bright summer morning. The London sparrows are chirping away at a fine rate in the garden. I fancy, too, that I can hear my favourite thrush in the distance. Dog Catch, also, is whining and scratching at my door to tell me that it is time for me to get up, and take him out for his walk. And, then, I recollect all. I realise that I've only been dreaming; although, I almost believe that I can see Min's dear face and outstretched arms still before me. Of course, it was only a dream. But, curious, wasn't it? CHAPTER TWO. MANOEUVRING. O! slippery state of things. What sudden turns, What strange vicissitudes in the first leaf Of man's sad history. To-day most happy, And ere to-morrow's sun has set, most abject! How scant the space between these vast extremes. The recollection of my strange visions which, I confess, somewhat affected me on my first waking, I put off from me at once. What were they, after all, but dreams, "begot of nothing but vain fantasy?" I reasoned thus, philosophically, reflectively, rationally, within myself, as I dressed. I determined to dismiss the matter from my thought at once; for, even if it prognosticated anything and was intended to withdraw the veil from futurity, it ought only to convince me of one fact, or fancy, namely, that, notwithstanding that I might have a hard struggle to win my darling, I should win her in the end:--that, also, in spite of antagonistic mammas and contrary circumstances, she would then be my own, my very own Min!