We know not; for the faint, exhausted rays
    Which hither on Light’s winged coursers come
  From fires which ages since first lit their blaze,
    One instant gleam, then perish, spent and dumb! 
  How strange the thought that, whatsoe’er we learn,
  Our tiny globe no answer can return,
  Since with but dull, reflected beams we burn!

  Yet this we know; yon ring of spectral light,
    Whose distance thrills the soul with solemn awe,
  Can ne’er escape in its majestic might
    The firm control of omnipresent law. 
  This mote descending to its bounden place. 
  Those suns whose radiance we can scarcely trace,
  Alike obey the Power pervading space.

[Illustration:  NIGHT.]

[Illustration:  THE SAN FRANCISCO VOLCANOES.]

[Illustration:  STARTING FOR THE GRAND CANON.]

One glorious September morning, leaving our train at Flagstaff, we started in stage-coaches for a drive of sixty-five miles to the Grand Canon.  I had looked forward to this drive with some misgiving, dreading the heat of the sun, and the dust and sand which I had supposed we should encounter; but to my astonishment and delight it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience.  It was only eleven hours in duration, and not only was most of the route level, but two-thirds of it lay through a section of beautifully rolling land, diversified with open glades and thousands upon thousands of tall pines and cedars entirely free from undergrowth.  It is no exaggeration to say that we drove that day for miles at a time over a road carpeted with pine needles.  The truth is, Arizona, though usually considered a treeless and rainless country, possesses some remarkable exceptions; and the region near Flagstaff not only abounds in stately pines, but is at certain seasons visited by rainstorms which keep it fresh and beautiful.  During our stay at the Grand Canon we had a shower every night; the atmosphere was marvelously pure, and aromatic with the odors of a million pines; and so exhilarating was exercise in the open air, that however arduous it might be, we never felt inconvenienced by fatigue, and mere existence gave us joy.  Decidedly, then, it will not do to condemn the whole of Arizona because of the heat of its arid, southern plains; for the northern portion of the state is a plateau, with an elevation of from five thousand to seven thousand feet.  Hence, as it is not latitude, so much as altitude, that gives us healthful, pleasing temperature, in parts of Arizona the climate is delightful during the entire year.

[Illustration:  THE DRIVE THROUGH THE PINES.]

[Illustration:  THE SAN FRANCISCO MOUNTAIN.]