roar of the plunging waves, as we hear on
the Atlantic seaboard; the slow, regular swells--quiet pulsations of
the great Pacific's heart--roll inward in unbroken lines, and fall with
single grand crashes, with intervals of dead silence between. They may
be heard through the day, if one listens, like a solemn undertone to all
the shallow noises of the town; but at midnight, when all else is
still, those successive shocks fall upon the ear with a sensation of
inexpressible solemnity. All the air, from the pine forests to the sea,
is filled with a light tremor, and the intermitting beats of sound are
strong enough to jar a delicate ear. Their constant repetition at last
produces a feeling something like terror. A spirit worn and weakened by
some scathing sorrow could scarcely bear the reverberation.

* * * * *

=_274._= APPROACH TO SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA.

Sunset came on as we approached the strait opening from Pablo Bay into
the Bay of San Francisco. The cloudless sky became gradually suffused
with a soft rose-tint, which covered its whole surface, painting alike
the glassy sheet of the bay, and glowing most vividly on the mountains
to the eastward. The color deepened every moment, and the peaks of the
Coast Range burned with a rich vermilion light, like that of a live
coal. This faded gradually into as glowing a purple, and at last into a
blue as intense as that of the sea at noon-day. The first effect of the
light was most wonderful; the mountains stretched around the horizon
like a belt of varying fire and amethyst, between the two roseate deeps
of air and water; the shores were transmuted into solid, the air into
fluid gems. Could the pencil faithfully represent this magnificent
transfiguration of Nature, it would appear utterly unreal and impossible
to eyes which never beheld the reality.... It lingered, and lingered,
changing almost imperceptibly and with so beautiful a decay, that one
lost himself in the enjoyment of each successive charm, without regret
for those which were over. The dark blue of the mountains deepened into
their night-garb of dusky shadow without any interfusion of dead, ashy
color, and the heaven overhead was spangled with all its stars long
before the brilliant arch of orange in the west had sunk below the
horizon. I have seen the dazzling sunsets of the Mediterranean flush
the beauty of its shores, and the mellow skies which Claude used to
contemplate from