commonly means merely something which they
do not understand, which they are abed and asleep to, however much it
may be worth their while to be up and awake to it.

It must be allowed that the light of the moon, sufficient though it is
for the pensive walker, and not disproportionate to the inner light we
have, is very inferior in quality and intensity to that of the sun. But
the moon is not to be judged alone by the quantity of light she sends to
us, but also by her influence on the earth and its inhabitants. "The
moon gravitates toward the earth, and the earth reciprocally toward the
moon." The poet who walks by moonlight is conscious of a tide in his
thought which is to be referred to lunar influence. I will endeavor to
separate the tide in my thoughts from the current distractions of the
day. I would warn my hearers that they must not try my thoughts by a
daylight standard, but endeavor to realize that I speak out of the
night. All depends on your point of view. In Drake's "Collection of
Voyages," Wafer says of some Albinos among the Indians of Darien,--"They
are quite white, but their whiteness is like that of a horse, quite
different from the fair or pale European, as they have not the least
tincture of a blush or sanguine complexion.... Their eyebrows are
milk-white, as is likewise the hair of their heads, which is very
fine.... They seldom go abroad in the daytime, the sun being
disagreeable to them, and causing their eyes, which are weak and poring,
to water, especially if it shines towards them; yet they see very well
by moonlight, from which we call them mooneyed."

Neither in our thoughts in these moonlight walks, methinks, is there
"the least tincture of a blush or sanguine complexion," but we are
intellectually and morally Albinos,--children of Endymion,--such is the
effect of conversing much with the moon.

I complain of Arctic voyages that they do not enough remind us of the
constant peculiar dreariness of the scenery, and the perpetual twilight
of the Arctic night. So he whose theme is moonlight, though he may find
it difficult, must, as it were, illustrate it with the light of the moon
alone.

Many men walk by day; few walk by night. It is a very different season.
Take a July night, for instance. About ten o'clock,--when man is asleep,
and day fairly forgotten,--the beauty of moonlight is seen over lonely
pastures where cattle are silently feeding. On all sides novelties
present themselves. Instead