C 85 ] 



We never tire of the drama of sunset. I go 

 forth each afternoon and look into the west a quarter 

 of an hour before sunset, with fresh curiosity, to 

 see what new picture will be painted there, what 

 new panorama exhibited, what new dissolving views. 

 Can Washington Street or Broadway show anything 

 as good? Every day a new picture is painted and 

 framed, held up for half an hour, in such lights as 

 the Great Artist chooses, and then withdrawn and 

 the curtain falls. And then the sun goes down, and 

 long the afterglow gives light. And then the damask 

 curtains glow along the western window. And now 

 the first star is lit, and I go home. 



Journal, iii, 179. 



