lobe we had left was rolling beneath us. No eye of one in the
flesh could see it as I saw or seemed to see it. No ear of any mortal
being could bear the sounds that came from it as I heard or seemed to
hear them. The broad oceans unrolled themselves before me. I could
recognize the calm Pacific and the stormy Atlantic,--the ships that
dotted them, the white lines where the waves broke on the shore,--frills
on the robes of the continents,--so they looked to my woman's perception;
the--vast South American forests; the glittering icebergs about the
poles; the snowy mountain ranges, here and there a summit sending up fire
and smoke; mighty rivers, dividing provinces within sight of each other,
and making neighbors of realms thousands of miles apart; cities;
light-houses to insure the safety of sea-going vessels, and war-ships to
knock them to pieces and sink them. All this, and infinitely more,
showed itself to me during a single revolution of the sphere: twenty-four
hours it would have been, if reckoned by earthly measurements of time. I
have not spoken of the sounds I heard while the earth was revolving under
us. The howl of storms, the roar and clash of waves, the crack and crash
of the falling thunderbolt,--these of course made themselves heard as
they do to mortal ears. But there were other sounds which enchained my
attention more than these voices of nature. As the skilled leader of an
orchestra hears every single sound from each member of the mob of
stringed and wind instruments, and above all the screech of the straining
soprano, so my sharpened perceptions made what would have been for common
mortals a confused murmur audible to me as compounded of innumerable
easily distinguished sounds. Above them all arose one continued,
unbroken, agonizing cry. It was the voice of suffering womanhood, a
sound that goes up day and night, one long chorus of tortured victims.

"Let us get out of reach of this," I said; and we left our planet, with
its blank, desolate moon staring at it, as if it had turned pale at the
sights and sounds it had to witness.

Presently the gilded dome of the State House, which marked our
starting-point, came into view for the second time, and I knew that this
side-show was over. I bade farewell to the Common with its Cogswell
fountain, and the Garden with its last awe-inspiring monument.

"Oh, if I could sometimes revisit these beloved scenes!" I exclaimed.

"There is nothing to hinder that I know o