After himself and his guide had pass¬ 
ed some days and greater part of the 
night, traversing on foot the worst 
roads imaginable, and wading through 
marshes often in the most violent storms 
of wind and rain, they found themselves, 
early one morning, on firm ground 
once more ; but with no human habi¬ 
tation in view, nor any track by which 
they might direct their course. They 
kindled a fixe ; and Linnaeus, perfectly 
the pleasure of travelling on, night after night, 
beneath a light so new and beautiful, until they 
began to feel the painful consequences of over- 
exertion, added to the oppressive effects of con¬ 
tinued day-lighton their eyes. “ It could not be 
called twilight,” observes Dr. C. “ it was rather 
the glare of noon ,* being reflected so strongly 
from the walls and houses, that it was painful 
had never felt before, that darkness is one of 
those benevolent gifts of Providence, the value 
come sensible of when it ceases altogether to 
