THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE 



ton, as cypresses in a church yard spring from 

 the decaying human corpse. Life maintains it- 

 self, here, upon the results of life. 



The coral animals have not adjusted them- 

 selves to life in the air. No branch of the fam- 

 ily has ever been able to do this, not even the 

 medusae, since they are too largely composed of 

 water, being little more than gelatinous sacs in 

 the water. The medusa which the storm throws 

 upon the coast is torn in pieces in a breath — a 

 mere drop of salt water in the sunlight remains. 

 It is clear to be seen what has happened. This 

 white lime beach is nothing else than the highest 

 circle of the great cement mass, that the coral 

 population, on its sloping meadow, has placed 

 beneath itself in the lapse of time. While under 

 the water, this foundation of lime is covered by 

 the youngest generations of the coral ani- 

 mals. On this rim free from water there is no 

 trace of any growing life, but the whole material 

 is the work of life. Even these little supports 

 upon which the palms raise themselves into the 

 free blue of heaven, and into which the land- 

 crabs dig their holes, were all once built a few 

 feet lower in the ocean. At that time the waves 

 passed unchecked over the highest rim of the 

 coral meadow. Sometimes a little foam gathered 

 on the highest places. The mariner who did not 

 heed this significant signal might easily be 

 wrecked on this subterranean "reef." But one 

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