A WONDERER UNDER SEA 1 3 



the surface of the earth, and brings refreshed life to plant, 

 beast, and man. 



Just as a stream has its myriad ripples and tiny whirl- 

 pools which twist and hold back bits of the water for a 

 brief space, so the plants and animals each seize upon this 

 individual mead of water, whirl it about in their bodies 

 for a time and let it pass on again. Nothing is more futile 

 and inane than to carry a simile farther than its quick, 

 immediate application, but bear with me while I make 

 one more comparison between the earth and a human 

 being. The great oceans make up somewhat more than 

 two-thirds of the earth's surface, and our own body con- 

 tains almost exactly the same proportion of water. Of the 

 weight of a one-hundred-and-fifty-pound man, one hun- 

 dred and five pounds are water! This seventy per cent, 

 or thirteen-odd gallons which we carry about with us, 

 seems all the more amazing in a land animal such as our- 

 selves when we know that a fish is only about eighty- 

 three per cent water. 



We look out to sea from the shore or from a lofty cliff 

 and even when a storm is raging we have a feeling of 

 perfect security. Now and then a ship is wrecked, or a 

 wharf or even a sandy beach undermined and washed 

 away, but we view this with no worry or tremor of per- 

 sonal fear. Yet, if we stop to think, all the great expanses 

 of the seas average two miles in depth, and if the vast 

 continents with all the lofty mountains of the world were 

 whittled away, shaken down, and the surface of the planet 



