cannot be seen;--it is because the summits of these swells are
mile-broad,--too broad to be discerned from the level of our
deck.

... Ten A.M.--Under the sun the sea is a flaming, dazzling
lazulite. My French friend from Guadeloupe kindly confesses this
is _almost_ the color of tropical water.... Weeds floating by, a
little below the surface, are azured. But the Guadeloupe
gentleman says he has seen water still more blue. I am sorry,--I
cannot believe him.

Mid-day.--The splendor of the sky is weird! No clouds above--
only blue fire! Up from the warm deep color of the sea-circle
the edge of the heaven glows as if bathed in greenish flame. The
swaying circle of the resplendent sea seems to flash its jewel-
color to the zenith. Clothing feels now almost too heavy to
endure; and the warm wind brings a languor with it as of
temptation.... One feels an irresistible desire to drowse on deck
--the rushing speech of waves, the long rocking of the ship, the
lukewarm caress of the wind, urge to slumber--but the light is
too vast to permit of sleep. Its blue power compels wakefulness.
And the brain is wearied at last by this duplicated azure
splendor of sky and sea. How gratefully comes the evening to
us,--with its violet glooms and promises of coolness!

All this sensuous blending of warmth and force in winds and
waters more and more suggests an idea of the spiritualism of
elements,--a sense of world-life. In all these soft sleepy
swayings, these caresses of wind and sobbing of waters, Nature
seems to confess some passional mood. Passengers converse of