The sun is at his back, shining on the drifting spray, and he thus describes and muses on what he sees:-- 'August 12, 1841 .-- To-day every fall was foaming from the abundance of water, and the current of wind brought down by it was in some places too strong to stand against.

The sun shone brightly, and the rainbows seen from various points were very beautiful.

One at the bottom of a fine but furious fall was very pleasant,--there it remained motionless, whilst the gusts and clouds of spray swept furiously across its place and were dashed against the rock.

It looked like a spirit strong in faith and steadfast in the midst of the storm of passions sweeping across it, and though it might fade and revive, still it held on to the rock as in hope and giving hope.

And the very drops, which in the whirlwind of their fury seemed as if they would carry all away, were made to revive it and give it greater beauty.' Footnote to Chapter 9 [1] See note, p.