great, round orb vanish from our sight, a silence fell upon us all, the
cause of which it would be hard to put into words. We had seen the
great mystery of life move on a point. We thought, perhaps, of the
angel trumpeter, who some day will say so that all will hear, "Time
shall be no more!" We thought, perhaps, of that day when we should
close our eyes upon the earthly sun forever, and days for us should be
at an end.

As the darkness settled down, so solemnly and grandly on the mountains,
we retraced our steps to the Observatory, and followed our kind guide
through its many mysteries.

We first looked through some of the smaller telescopes. In one of
these, while the glow was still in the heavens, we saw Venus, the
evening star, in all its beauty. The earth currents, through which we
had to look, gave the glowing planet a purplish tinge and a sort of
vibratory motion, which quite suggested the floating movements of the
goddess, as she figures in Virgil's verse.

We saw all sorts of instruments, of the most delicate and yet simple
character, for recording seismic disturbances of any kind, or, as we
might call them in plainer speech, earthquakes. It is most interesting
to note how a glass disk, a little lamp-black, a spring or two, a bit
of clockwork, and a tracing-pen, will do the work automatically, and
record the direction, the duration, and the time of any seismic
disturbance at any hour of day or night. The brain which contrived all
this cunning machinery, can go to rest and take its needed sleep, but
the wires and traps set to catch the shakes of the old globe, are
always wide awake, animated ever by the intelligence of the brain which
sleeps, and can sleep in peace; for, when the brain wakes, it will find
that the machine has faithfully recorded every quiver of this old,
trembling world. Professor Schaeberle told me, with quiet humor, that
earthquakes of some kind were always going on, but so slight that
machinery alone could detect them.

After seeing the many minor attractions of transit instruments and
meridians and other affairs, which some of us wondered at, in complete,
but polite and interested ignorance, we were at last ushered into the
presence of the great Lick telescope. The immense dim space in which we
stood, the half-seen figures of the visitors, the professor and his
attendants, with lanterns in their hands, accenting the gloom by the
very light itself, made up a weird picture. Then, towering