CHARLES KINGSLEY 37 



the basest greed or the noblest heroism. My con- 

 ception of its magnanimous greatness was gone. 

 And I looked upon the true sea — the sea that 

 plays with men till their hearts are broken, and 

 wears stout ships to death. Nothing can touch 

 the brooding bitterness of its heart. Open to all 

 and faithful to none, it exercises its fascination for 

 the undoing of the best. To love it is not well. 

 It knows no bond of plighted troth, no fidelity to 

 misfortune, to long companionship, to long devo- 

 tion. The promise it holds out perpetually is 

 very great ; but the only secret of its possession is 

 strength, strength — the jealous, sleepless strength 

 of a man guarding a coveted treasure within his 

 gates. 



Joseph Conrad. 



The Opaque 'O '<;:> -"O 



(From At Last) 



■\ 7ERY remarkable, meanwhile, and unexpected, 

 was the opacity and seeming solidity of the 

 ocean when looked down on from the bows. 

 Whether sapphire under the sunlight, or all but 

 black under the clouds, or laced and streaked with 

 beads of foam, rising out of the nether darkness, it 

 looks as if it could resist the hand ; as if one might 

 almost walk on it ; so unlike any liquid, as seen 



