THE DAYLIGHT. 
237 
corresponding hour before meridian. Can read with 
difficulty the newspaper — London Illustrated News. 
"2 P.M. A hazy darkness, but so compounded with 
the fast-rising light of the dear moon, that it is far 
lighter than the corresponding hour before meridian. 
" Day is over. Moonlight begins ! 
" This is a fair specimen of our usual day. The oc- 
casional clear day, such as we had the 18th, is far light- 
er, and full of variety and interest. 
" November 21, Thursday. The day is clear ; but the 
moonlight, an absolute clair de lune, so confounds it- 
self with the day as to make a merely solar register 
impossible. 
" 8 A.M. The whole atmosphere bathed in pellucid 
clearness. The moon, like a luminous sphere, not a 
circle, as with us, is away up the straits in the north- 
ern sky. Not a speck betokens sunrise. 
" 9 A.M. The southeastern horizon is zoned with a 
mellow uniform band of light. Nothing we have seen 
has its extension or its uniformity. The visual angle 
is an unbroken tint, rising from the ice with a raw 
sienna, mellowing into pink, and softened again into 
an orange yellow, which runs sometimes through a 
gradation of green into the clear blue sky. The moon 
absorbs all perception of other light. 
"10 A.M. The light of dawn begins to mingle with 
the moonlight ; I can not say where or how, but I am 
conscious of an interfering light. To the southward 
all is orange, and red, and solar. To the northward, 
from a cobalt sky of even tint, the moon ' shineth down 
alone' — alone, save the bright planet Saturn to the 
northward, and the broad zone of red sunrise at the 
south. 
" 11 A.M. Day upon us on one side, and moon bright 
