of cloud; but the scene has
changed, and there is no longer an unbroken expanse of sea. The white
surf breaks, at the distant horizon, on an insulated reef, formed mayhap
by the Silurian or Old Red coral zoophytes ages before, during the
bygone yesterday; and beats in long lines of foam, nearer at hand,
against a low, winding shore, the seaward barrier of a widely spread
country. For at the Divine command the land has arisen from the
deep,--not inconspicuously and in scattered islets, as at an earlier
time, but in extensive though flat and marshy continents, little raised
over the sea level; and a yet further fiat has covered them with the
great carboniferous flora. The scene is one of mighty forests of
cone-bearing trees,--of palms, and tree-ferns, and gigantic club mosses,
on the opener slopes, and of great reeds clustering by the sides of
quiet lakes and dark rolling rivers. There is deep gloom in the recesses
of the thicker woods, and low thick mists creep along the dank marsh or
sluggish stream. But there is a general lightening of the sky over head;
as the day declines, a redder flush than had hitherto lighted up the
prospect falls athwart fern covered bank and long withdrawing glade. And
while the fourth evening has fallen on the prophet, he becomes sensible,
as it wears on, and the fourth dawn approaches, that yet another change
has taken place. The Creator has spoken, and the stars look out from
openings of deep unclouded blue; and as day rises, and the planet of
morning pales in the east, the broken cloudlets are transmuted from
bronze into gold, and anon the gold becomes fire, and at length the
glorious sun arises out of the sea, and enters on his course rejoicing.
It is a brilliant day; the waves, of a deeper and softer blue than
before, dance and sparkle in the light; the earth, with little else to
attract the gaze, has assumed a garb of brighter green; and as the sun
declines amid even richer glories than those which had encircled his
rising, the moon appears full orbed in the east,--to the human eye the
second great luminary of the heavens,--and climbs slowly to the zenith
as night advances, shedding its mild radiance on land and sea.

Again the day breaks; the prospect consists, as before, of land and
ocean. There are great pine woods, reed-covered swamps, wide plains,
winding rivers, and broad lakes; and a bright sun shines over all. But
the landscape derives its interest and novelty from a feature unmar