A harbor is a delightful resort for a soul tired with life’s struggles. The fullness of the sky, the moving architecture of clouds, the changing colors of the sea, the beam from the lighthouses, are a prism marvelously suitable to amuse the eyes without ever tiring them. The slender shapes of the ships, with their complicated rigging, on which the sea swell imprints harmonious oscillations, serve to sustain in the soul the love of rhythm and beauty. And then, especially, there is a kind of mysterious aristocratic pleasure for the man who no longer has any curiosity or ambition, to contemplate, when he is lying in the belvedere or leaning on the pier, all the movements of those leaving and those returning, of those who still have the strength to wish, the desire to travel or grow rich.