Page:A Memorial of John Boyle O'Reilly from the City of Boston.djvu/54

48 One week ago this very night I beheld a spectacle such as is rarely given to mortal man to behold. Standing on the piazza of my cottage by the sea, I looked out upon the waters of the bay. The moon, almost full, hung midway in the sky, and shining over the island that stood at the mouth of the bay, and shot out great rays of light, flashing like a giant's scymitar, as if to guard the entrance to the bay. The rays of the moon reflected in the water made it a pathway of light, reaching from the horizon almost to my very feet, seeming like a pathway for the footsteps of the angels as they go about on their noiseless errands among men. On the other side the waves sparkled and looked as if the Almighty were casting jewels into the sea.

As I listened to the wavelets breaking on the shore, it reminded me of the music of the silver bells, while over the hills from the great reefs that lay beyond came the ceaseless roar of the ocean surge. On every breath of the wind was wafted the odor of the sea, mingled with the balm of the spruce and the fir.

As I stood and took it in with all my senses, I thought that it was not unlike our lamented friend. For his faculties always flashed out light that glistened like rubies, revealing and defending the truth at once.

The brilliancy of his mind illuminated every subject