…along a dusty road, when a beautiful grey horse suddenly trotted up to me, and, with the gentlest expression imaginable in its fine dark eyes, bid me mount. Not in the slightest degree surprised at hearing it speak, I climbed on its back, and the next moment found myself flying through the air. I forget exactly how the dream terminated, but I fancy it was in some remarkably pleasant manner, and that the horse landed me in a floralElysium, where I fell head over ears in love with a gorgeously apparelled woman.Then, too, I have dreamed of a roan horse; of seeing it struggling desperately to extricate itself from a morass, till gradually sinking and sinking it disappeared out of sight; and nothing was left to mark the spot where it had vanished but a hideous black bubble. I dreamed this before travelling quite unexpectedly from Bristol to Scotland….