Blime." This impression was actually felt by us all, as may be seen from the following notes, written in my schedule of observation during the event, or immediately after: "3.50 P.M. Light very weak, sky

leaden gray, mountains standing out with remarkable
clearness from the horizon, and seeming to approach us. "3.55 P.M. Fall of temperature very apparent. Cold wind blowing through
the atmosphere. "3.56 P.M. Profound silence through nature, which seems to participate in the celestial phenomenon. Silence in all the groups. "3.57 P.M. Light considerably diminished, becoming wan, strange, and sinister. Landscape leaden gray, sea looks black. This diminution of light is not that of every day after the sunset. There is, as it were, a tint of sadness spread over the whole of nature. One becomes accustomed to it, and yet while we

know that the occultation of the Sun by the Moon is a natural phenomenon, we can not escape a certain sense of uneasiness.
The approach of some extraordinary spectacle is

imminent." At this point we examined the effects of the solar light upon the seven colors of the spectrum. In order to determine as accurately as possible the tonality of the light of the eclipse, I had prepared seven great sheets, each painted boldly in the colors
of the spectrum, violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange,
red; and a similar series in
pieces of silk. These colors were laid at our

feet upon the terrace where my wife, as well as Countess de la Baume,
were watching with me. We then saw the first four disappear successively and entirely
and turn black in a few seconds, in the following order: violet, indigo, blue, green. The three other colors were consider