ost to assume the angular
lines of lightning. Farther, to complete the impression, be it observed
that all the cattle, both upon the near and distant hill-side, have left
off grazing, and are standing stock still and stiff, with their heads
down and their backs to the wind; and finally, that we may be told not
only what the storm is, but what it has been, the gutter at the side of
the road is gushing in a complete torrent, and particular attention is
directed to it by the full burst of light in the sky being brought just
above it, so that all its waves are bright with the reflection.

Sec. 21. Especially by contrast with a passage of extreme repose.

But I have not quite done with this noble picture yet. Impetuous clouds,
twisted rain, flickering sunshine, fleeting shadow, gushing water, and
oppressed cattle, all speak the same story of tumult, fitfulness, power,
and velocity. Only one thing is wanted, a passage of repose to contrast
with it all, and it is given. High and far above the dark volumes of the
swift rain-cloud, are seen on the left, through their opening, the
quiet, horizontal, silent flakes of the highest cirrus, resting in the
repose of the deep sky. Of all else that we have noticed in this
drawing, some faint idea can be formed from the engraving: but not the
slightest of the delicate and soft forms of these pausing vapors, and
still less of the exquisite depth and palpitating tenderness of the blue
with which they are islanded. Engravers, indeed, invariably lose the
effect of all passages of cold color, under the mistaken idea that it is
to be kept _pale_ in order to indicate distance; whereas it ought
commonly to be darker than the rest of the sky.

Sec. 22. The truth of this particular passage. Perfectly pure blue sky only
seen after rain, and how seen.

Sec. 23. Absence of this effect in the works of the old masters.

To appreciate the full truth of this passage, we must understand another
effect peculiar to the rain-cloud, that its openings exhibit the purest
blue which the sky ever shows. For, as we saw in the first chapter of
this section, that aqueous vapor always turns the sky more or less gray,
it follows that we never can see the azure so intense as when the
greater part of this vapor has just fallen in rain. Then, and then only,
pure blue sky becomes visible in the first openings, distinguished
especially by the manner in which the clouds melt into it; their edges
passing off i