The transition from early twilight to the darkness of night was beautiful beyond description. The array of clouds in the west just after sunset; their forms, arrangement, and colours; with the manner in which they blended and melted into one another, composed a spectacle, of the magnificence of which, neither language, nor the art of the painter, can convey any adequate idea. Along the edge of the horizon stretched a broad tract of the deepest crimson, reflecting far upon the waters, a light that gave them the appearance of an ocean of blood. Above this was a band of vivid flame colour: then one of a clear translucent green, perfectly peculiar, unlike that of any leaf or gem, and of surpassing delicacy and beauty. This gradually melted, through many fine gradations, into a sea of liquid amber, so soft and golden, that the first large stars of evening, floating in its transparent depths, could scarcely be distinguished, as they twinkled mildly, amid the flood of kindred radiance. A narrow streak of pearly blue bounded this amber sea with its islands of light, and divided it from the deeper blue of the wide vault above. During the earlier part of this glorious display, the eastern sky, as if in rivalry of the splendour of the opposite quarter of the heavens, was spanned by two concentric rainbows, describing complete semi-circles, with their bases resting upon the sea. In the smaller and interior bow, all the colours were beautifully distinct; in the outer and larger one, they were less brilliant, and arranged in an order the reverse of that which is usual, the violet being the lowest instead of the red. The rainbows vanished with the sun, and soon afterwards the fiery glow in the west began to fade. But the scene only changed its character, without losing any of its beauty. So smooth was the sea on that night that the whole dome of the sky, with every sailing cloudflake, and every star, was perfectly reflected in it. Until the moon rose, the line where the sky joined the ocean was indistinctly defined, and the two were so blended together, that we actually seemed suspended in the centre of a vast sphere; the heavens, instead of terminating at the horizon, extended, spangled with stars, on every side--below, as well as above, and around. The illusion was wonderfully perfect; you almost held your breath as you glanced downward, and could hardly refrain from starting nervously, so strong and bewildering was the appearance of hanging poised in empty space. Johnny, who had been sitting for a long time with his hands supporting his head, and his elbows resting upon Arthur's knee, gazing out upon the ocean, suddenly looked up into his face, and said-- "Arthur, I want you to tell me truly--do you still believe that we shall be saved--do you hope so now, as you did yesterday, or do you think that we must perish!" "Do you suppose that I would try to deceive you, Johnny," said Arthur, "that you ask me so earnestly to tell you truly?"