8 GLIMPSES OF NATURE. 



cast off our ropes and hawsers, and go half-speed 

 ahead round that curve in Harwich Bay towards the 

 open sea, one may well be excused if even a rhap- 

 sody on the moonlit sea flowed from lip or pen. 



The whole seascape is a nocturne in moonlight. 

 The twinkling lights of Harwich show up the darker 

 background of hill and church spire in true Rem- 

 brandt fashion. Out in the bay the yachts and 

 ships sleep peacefully on the bosom of the deep, and 

 the rays of each twinkling lantern rise and fall with 

 the swell. Away beyond, in the sea whither every 

 dip of our paddles carries us fast, there are seen the 

 lightships, each with its twinkling eye that gleams 

 luminous for a moment and then vanishes away with 

 the regularity of an unvarying mechanism. 



The deck is still and quiet, although there is noisy 

 clatter of knives and forks in the saloon below. On 

 the steamer's bridge you can discern three or four 

 dark figures those of our guides through the deep. 

 Soon things settle down to a still more monotonous 

 state than before. Save for the throbs of the 

 engines, and the occasional rattle of the steam steer- 

 ing gear, all is at rest, and the good ship ploughs 

 her way easily over the calm waters of the sea. 



One may sit on the paddle-box on this autumn 

 night revelling in the beauty of the seascape around. 

 Far away, the lightships continue their mechanical 

 illumination of the deep ; but as you glance over the 

 ship's side into the sea you become aware that the 

 lights of man's contriving are not the only illumina- 

 tions which meet the eye to-night. Watch the waves 

 which spring into existence as the bow of the steamer 

 ploughs the main. A long crest of foam passes away 

 at a wide angle from the bow, and loses itself in the 



