instantly complied, and, as he did so, beheld a chariot, which shone as the clouds that the sun glorifies at his setting, descending from the skies. It was drawn by two swans, larger than the fabulous roc, whose magnificent necks, arched like a rainbow, were surrounded by a bright halo reflected from the intense radiancy and whiteness of their plumage. Their expanded wings lightened the earth under them, and, as they drew nearer, their insufferable splendour so dazzled the senses of Ernest that he sank in a state of utter exhaustion to the ground. His conductor then touched him with a small silver wand, and immediately a strange stupor came ever him, which in a few minutes rendered him perfectly insensible. When he awoke from this swoon he found himself in an exceedingly wide and lofty apartment, whose vast walls were formed of black marble. Its huge gloomy dome was illumined by pale lamps that glimmered like stars through a curtain of clouds. Only one window was visible, and that, of an immense size, and arched like those of an ancient Gothic cathedral, was veiled by ample black drapery. In the midst arose a colossal statue, whose lifted hands were clasped in strong supplication, and whose upraised eyes and fixed features betokened excessive anguish. It was rendered distinctly visible by the light of the tapers which burned around. As Ernest gazed on this mysterious room he felt a sensation of extreme awe, such as he had never before experienced. He knew that he was in a world of spirits. The scene before him appeared like a dim dream. Nothing was clear, for a visionary mist hovered over all things, that imparted a sense of impenetrable obscurity to his mental as well as his bodily eyesight. After continuing awhile in this state, amidst the most profound silence, he heard the sweet soft tones of an æolian harp stealing through the tall pillared arches. The subdued melody rose and filled the air with mournful music as the wind began to moan around the dome. By degrees these sounds sank to rest, and the deathly stillness returned with a more chilling and oppressive power. It continued for a long period until its unbroken solemnity became supernatural and insupportable. Ernest struck the ground with his foot, but the blow produced no sound. He strove to speak, but his voice gave forth no utterance. At that instant a crashing peal of thunder burst. The wild air roared round the mighty building, which shook and trembled to its centre. Then, as the wind arose, the music swelled again, mingling its majestic floods of sound with the thunder that now pealed unceasingly. The unearthly tones that rolled along the blast exceeded everything that any mortal had heard before, and Ernest was nigh overwhelmed by the awe which their weird majesty inspired.