is a picture in pastel by Simon de Bussy a sunset in the
Alps. But all pictures--even Turner's;--can only draw attention to the
glory and show us what to look for. They cannot reproduce the
impression in full. The medium through which the artist has to
work--the paints and the canvas--are inadequate for his needs.

If we try to describe the impression in words we are no better off.
We can, indeed, compare the sunset colours with the colours of
flowers and precious stones. But here also we miss the light which is
the very foundation of the sunset beauties. And we have neither the
changefulness nor the vast extent of the sunset colouring.

To get the least idea of the variety of colours mixing, merging, and
intermingling with one another we must go to the opal, though even
there there is not the intensity of colour, and of course not the
change nor extent. From an orange--especially a blood orange--we
get a notion of the combined reds and yellows of the sunsets, though
the reds may range deeper than orange into the reds of the ruby or
the cardinal flower, and lighter into the pinks of the rose or the
carnation; and the yellows range from the gold of the eseholtzia to
the delicate hue of the primrose. And for the translucency of their
yellower effects we must bring in the amber. Often there is a green
which can only be matched by jade or emerald. And sometimes
there is an effect with which only the amethyst can be compared.
Then there are mauves and purples for which the precious stones
have no parallel, and of which heliotrope, the harebell, and the violet
give us the best idea. And the blues range from the deep blue of the
sapphire and the gentian to the light blue of the turquoise and the
forget-me-not.

In these stones and flowers we get something near the actual colour,
but the depth, the clearness, the luminosity, and the vast extent are
all wanting, and these are all essential features of the sunset's glories.
So we must imagine all these colours glowing with light and never
still--perpetually changing from one to the other and shading off
from one into the other, one colour emerging, rising to the dominant
position, and then disappearing to give place to another, and
effecting these changes imperceptibly yet rapidly also, for if we take
our eyes away for even a few minutes we find that the aspect has
altogether altered.

From my camp in Tibet for weeks together I could be sure of
witnessing every evening one