THE CLOUDS 87 



of the heavens, restful to the eye, and filling the mind 

 with the idea of peace. As its name imports, it is 

 an accumulation of vapour held together by some 

 mysterious power of cohesion in the atmosphere, at no 

 great height above the earth, and only to be seen in 

 its full beauty in fine weather and light winds and 

 calms. It is essentially a summer cloud, and its full 

 beauty and charm can only be enjoyed when the sky 

 is serene and the wind is not too strong. Perhaps it 

 is seen in its full perfection in those peaceful regions, 

 of the sea where the Trade Winds blow. All sailors 

 are familiar with what they call the Trade sky. Over- 

 head the sky is almost free from cloud, except for 

 the fleeting mass, like a lonely wraith, passing in 

 stately fashion across the blue expanse, and, when 

 coming between the sun and the beholder, giving a 

 grateful if momentary sense of shade from the fervent 

 heat of the great luminary. And its shadow upon the 

 shining sea may also be very clearly followed, owing 

 to the alteration it makes in the beauty of the glitter- 

 ing wavelets. But, for the most part, the cumulus 

 clouds lie piled around the horizon in masses often 

 called mountainous, but utterly unlike mountains in 

 their entire absence of angles. Their outlines are of 

 the softest, roundest, and most intangible. They 

 appear to be motionless, but a close and careful watch 

 will show that slowly, almost imperceptibly, but con- 

 stantly, they are changing their shapes, never, how- 

 ever, assuming any similitude that is other than 

 beautiful. Occasionally there will be seen along their 

 lower edges comparatively straight lines of darkened 

 cloud, showing the indication of the presence of a 

 greater quantity of moisture in them than usual to 



