104 INVALIDISM AND ITALY. 



not yet in any way recovered the knack of enjoying my- 

 self ; but as my hopes were small, my disappointment lias 

 not been great. I have scarcely been out since I came 

 here ; I feel unable to read, I can't write, and I see no 

 use in staring at the ships. The scenery, I have no 

 doubt, is beautiful ; I don't feel it to be so, but I am 

 thankful there are no setting suns. There is but one 

 sight in nature which is still too much for my spirit to 

 bear, and that is the setting sun. At the close of a sum- 

 mer evening, when all around is quiet and hushed, and 

 when the western sky gleams with the lovely hues of 

 departing glory, I look upon the calm magnificence of 

 heaven, and at that moment wish I had never been called 

 into existence. The crimson clouds of an evening sky 

 make my heart sick, and my mind is never more per- 

 turbed by ghastly visions than amid the fairy light of a 

 setting sun. Yet I once loved it — not wisely, but too 

 well. Though time has now broken the delusion, still I 

 never can forget what I have felt when a fiery sun slowly 

 sank behind the purple mountains, and seemed to leave 

 the world in a blaze of glory. I saw there a splendid 

 emblem of a great man's death ; for the career of virtue 

 is brightest when about to lead into heaven. I felt a 

 throb that told me not to be ashamed to stand erect in 

 the creation of God, and I could have wept with sublime 

 joy to think that I might widen the sphere of virtue, and 



