The fish that swarm on our coast do not seem to find home life or sporting places in this enormous sea.

Only the flying fish disturb the silky scene and flutter with silver wings over the sparkling laces that glisten where the winds blow gently, and woo the billows to cast aside the terrors of other climes and match the sky of blue and gold in beauty; but, unlike the stars, the waves do not differ in glory, and the spread of their splendor, when they seem to roll over a conquered universe, appeals to the imagination with the solemn suggestion not that order rules but that old chaos settles in solemn peace.

The days terminate on this abyss in marvelous glories.

The glowing spectacle is not in the west alone, but the gorgeous conflagration of the palaces we build in dreams spreads all around the sky.

The scene one evening in the vicinity of the sun departing in Asia to light up the morning of the everlasting to-morrow touching America with magical riches, was that of Niagara Falls ten thousand times magnified and turned to molten gold, that burned with inconceivable luster, while the south and north and east were illuminated with strange fires and soft lights, fading and merged at last in the daffodil sky.