4 PILYSICAL GEOGRAPHY OF THE SEA. 
tial laws have established the existing relations between the 
solid and fluid surfaces of the earth. If the sea had been much 
smaller, or if the greatest mass of land had been concentrated 
in the tropical zone, all the meteorological phenomena on which 
the existence of actual organic life depends would have been so 
different, that it is doubtful whether man could then have 
existed, and certain that, under those altered circumstances, 
he never would have attained his present state of civilisation. 
The dependence of our intellectual development upon the ex- 
isting configuration of the earth, convinces us that Divine wisdom 
and not chaotic anarchy has from all eternity presided over the 
destinies of our planet. 
The length of all the coasts which form the boundary between 
sea and land can only be roughly estimated, for who has 
accurately measured the numberless windings of so many 
shores? The entire coast line of deeply indented Europe and 
her larger isles measures about 21,600 miles, equal to the cir- 
cumference of the earth; while the shores of compact Africa 
extend to a length of only 14,000 miles. I need hardly point out 
how greatly Europe’s irregular outlines have contributed to the 
early development of her superior civilisation and political pre- 
dominance. The coasts of America measure about 45,000 miles, 
those of Asia 40,000, while those of Australia and Polynesia 
may safely be estimated at 16,000. Thus the entire coast-line 
of the globe amounts to about 136,000 miles, which it would 
take the best pedestrian full twenty-five years to traverse from 
end to end. 
How different is the aspect of these shores along which 
the ever-restless sea continually rises or falls! Here steep 
rock-walls tower up from the deep, while there a low sandy 
beach extends its flat profile as far as the eye can reach. While 
some coasts are scorched by the vertical sunbeam, others are 
perpetually blocked up with ice. Here the safe harbour bids 
welcome to the weather-beaten sailor, the light-house greets him 
from afar with friendly ray ; the experienced pilot hastens to guide 
him to the port, and all along the smiling margin of the land 
rise the peaceful dwellings of civilised man. There, on the con- 
trary, the roaring breakers burst upon the shore of some dreary 
wilderness, the domain of the savage or the brute. What a 
wonderful variety of scenes unrolls itself before our fancy as it 
