eath the surface of the long level reach of
the Indian Ocean, which, as we look westward, expands into infinite
space. During the brief interval between day and star light, it
appears to the watchful observer as though he were looking through a
veil, the fabric of which consisted of golden meshes. The air seems
full of infinitesimal amber particles, and all things are wrapped in
an oriental warmth of color. Where sky and ocean meet, a line of ruby
glow burns like lava, slowly changing to the hue of rich red wine.
What exquisite harmonies Nature utters to the willing ear, and what
inexpressible charms she reveals to appreciative eyes.

Twilight is brief in this latitude, Night, clad in her sombre garb,
following close upon the footsteps of the Day, while a soft roseate
light ushers in the myriads of heavenly lamps, tremulous and luminous
in their varying colors. "A fiery sunset burns itself out quickly,"
says the Italian proverb. Though the twilight is brief, the afterglow
is often very beautiful, almost rivaling the sunset itself.

Turning the eyes for a moment towards the opposite or eastern sky, the
dainty cloudlets, floating serenely in the blue ether, are tinged with
a glow of delicate and beautiful hues. From their lofty position the
sinking sun is still visible, causing them to blush at the ardor of
his parting glance. Perhaps it is because of the novel surroundings
that sunset often strikes one as being so remarkable in these foreign
lands. When we pause to analyze the matter, surely we have seen
equally fine effects in this daily occurrence at home in
Massachusetts, or at Bar Harbor on the coast of Maine.

As we enjoy this scene from the esplanade, a large P. and O. steamship
crosses the line of sight just off the shore, bound for Calcutta. She
will double Dondra Head and steer northward, touching at Madras;
thence, hugging the Coromandel coast, she will make the mouth of the
Hooghly River, upon whose treacherous tide she will seek to reach the
City of Palaces. We know the route and its stormy character only too
well.

There is a pleasant drive over the best and smoothest of roads to the
north of Colombo, affording a glimpse of characteristic scenery, and
which takes one out to the Kalani temple, where a fine library
containing many rare oriental books may be seen. This is believed to
be one of the oldest shrines on the island. The present edifice is
probably built upon the site of the original one. The temp