FIKE-FLIES. 
101 
FIRE-FLIES. 
“ How beautiful is night ! 
A dewy freshness fills the silent air ; 
No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, 
Breaks the serene of heaven ; 
In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine 
■ Rolls through the dark blue depths,” 
Thalaha, i. I. 
A noble description, though expressed in few 
words ; but fully to enter into its beauty, we must 
have seen the glorious nights of the tropics. There 
the ‘‘ dewy freshness ” receives a heightening charm 
by its contrast with the burning day : there the sky 
has, indeed, a ‘‘ dark blue depth,” into which the eye 
seems to go onward and onward interminably ; and 
gains an idea of the illimitable expanse, the infinity 
of space, that our paler skies fail to convey. And 
surely nowhere else does the moon appear invested 
in such full-orbed glory,” or pour down such a flood 
of brilliant lustre on forest and sea, as from those 
“ serene,” transparent heavens. 
A scene particularly lovely is presented by one of 
those little glades, or open spaces of greensward, in 
the midst of the woods, that are not uncommon in 
Jamaica, — when seen under the light of a brilliant 
vertical moon. The forest, like a bounding wall, 
rises all around, within which everything is hidden 
under the blackest gloom. The thick leathery leaves 
of many of the trees, however, reflect from their 
glossy surfaces the moon’s light, and, moved by the 
gentle land-wind, throw off the flashes in all direc- 
tions. And, after the daily shower in the rainy 
