the streets on every side, surge like the billows of a storm-swept
sea; seen great masses of inflammable gas rise like dark clouds
from an explosion, then take fire in the air, and, cut off from
the fire below, float like argosies of flame in space. Suppose we
had felt the wind that came surging from all points of the compass
to fan that conflagration till it was light enough a mile away to
see to read the finest print, hot enough to decompose the torrents
of water that were dashed on it, making new fuel to feed the flame.
Suppose we had seen this spreading fire seize on the whole city,
extend to its environs, and, feeding itself on the very soil, lick
up Worcester with its tongues of flame--Albany, New York, Chicago,
St. Louis, Cincinnati--and crossing the plains swifter than a prairie
fire, making each peak of the Rocky Mountains hold up aloft a separate
torch of flame, and the Sierras whiter with heat than they ever were
with snow, the waters of the Pacific resolve into their constituent
elements of oxygen and hydrogen, and [Page 78] burn with
unquenchable fire! We withdraw into the air, and see below a world
on fire. All the prisoned powers have burst into intensest activity.
Quiet breezes have become furious tempests. Look around this flaming
globe--on fire above, below, around--there is nothing but fire. Let
it roll beneath us till Boston comes round again. No ember has yet
cooled, no spire of flame has shortened, no surging cloud has been
quieted. Not only are the mountains still in flame, but other ranges
burst up out of the seething sea. There is no place of rest, no
place not tossing with raging flame! Yet all this is only a feeble
figure of the great burning sun. It is but the merest hint, a
million times too insignificant.

The sun appears small and quiet to us because we are so far away.
Seen from the various planets, the relative size of the sun appears