104 LETTERS FROM THE BACKWOODS. 



How impressive nature is in all her aspects. 

 Whether she looks in one's face from the smiling 

 landscape of a New England vallej, or humbles one 

 amid the glaciers and snow-fields and shuddering 

 abysses of Alpine solitudes, or saddens the heart 

 with the murmur of waves and broad expanse of the 

 mysterious sea, she presents the same attractions and 

 has the same chasteninor effect. I never shall foro;et 

 that afternoon stroll by the ocean around the Fire 

 Islands. 



The next morning, we were to leave for the city. 

 The sky was overcast as I rose and looked out on 

 the ocean. It seemed preparing for one of those 

 warm, quiet, drizzling rains. The atmosphere in 

 such a state always has great refracting power from 

 the moisture it contains, and I was struck with the 

 appearance of buildings on the Fire Islands. Usually, 

 they seemed (as they really did) to stand up some of 

 them several feet from the shore, but now I could see 

 distinctly the shining surface of the water beyond 

 their foundations. Where the island was low, it ap- 

 peared now to be cut in two, and the bright water 

 passed entirely through to the ocean beyond. The 

 lighthouse, which was elevated on a rock, now sat in 

 the sea, if there was any reliance to be placed in 

 one's eyes. Through a powerful spy-glass I could 

 distinguish the water on three sides of it as distinctly 

 as I could see the lighthouse itself, and had I not been 

 informed otherwise, should have had no doubt the build- 

 ing stood in the water, and that the island here and 

 there was really divided. This deception was owing 

 to the refracting power of the atmosphere. The rays 



