28 THE GREAT THIRST LAND. 



Often as I have seen Teneriffe, I never saw it in such 

 perfection as on this occasion. Not a film of cloud kissed 

 it; the giant peak stood out distinct and unimpaired 

 in outline, while the blue, cloudless heaven formed the 

 most charming background to its warm sky-line. A 

 boat or two, and those distant, dotted the water, so they 

 did not interfere with the glorious repose of the scene. 

 Fairy-land may be decked in silver, with the green of 

 the emerald and the pure lustre of the diamond, still it 

 could not surpass God's picture, for a more perfect com- 

 bination of colouring could not be imagined. In the 

 lake districts of Scotland, after a long warm day, when 

 the cattle are standing knee- deep, and one herd lows 

 across their watery resting-place to another, and the 

 trout are rising, leaving their splash undisturbed by 

 wind and wave, and the swift and swallow dip up their 

 insect prey with skilful swoop, and the ravens are 

 winging homewards their way to mountain fastnesses, 

 I have seen a tip of hill the smallest possible portion 

 illuminated with this ruby-gold flood of light, but it 

 was a miniature compared to the picture that was now 

 before us. 



This is a wondrous fair world at times, but the 

 traveller, the weary soul who pants for rest and finds it 

 not, sees its grandest perfections. That great and good 

 Providence, who keeps our feet from wearying and our 

 heart from failing, doubtlessly has thus ordained it, to 

 help the poor wayfarer to follow the path to the bitter 

 end. 



Teneriffe far now to the north, let us look in the 

 direction of that great land that lies on our western bow. 

 It is a long way off, it is true; still, few do not know 

 more or less about it how many hearts it has broken, 



