solar rays easily penetrated this aqueous mass and dispersed its colouring. I could distinctly perceive objects 100 yards distant. Beyond, the depths toned down in fine gradations of ultramarine, then got bluer in the distance, and finally disappeared in a sort of undefined obscurity. The water around us was really but a kind of air, more dense than the terrestrial atmosphere, but almost as transparent. Above I could perceive the calm surface of the ocean.
We were walking upon a fine firm sand, not furrowed as that is upon which the waves leave their traces. This dazzling carpet, a true reflector, refracted the rays of the sun with surprising intensity. This is the cause of the tremendous reflection which penetrated all the liquid molecules. I should scarcely be credited, if I stated that, at this depth of thirty feet, I could see as plainly as in the daylight above—but it is a fact.
For a quarter of an hour we trod this glittering sand, composed of the impalpable dust of shells. The hull of the Nautilus, standing out like a rock, disappeared by degrees, but the light was burning to facilitate our return in the evening. It is difficult for those who have only seen the electric light on shore, to realise its vivid stream of brilliancy. There the dust which the air contains gives it the appearance of a luminous fog, while under the sea the light is transmitted with incomparable purity.
We kept going forward, and the plain of sand appeared boundless. I put by with my hands the liquid curtains which immediately closed behind me, while the pressure of the water obliterated our footsteps in the sand.
