22 



THE OPAL SEA 



Wrecks of 

 ships and 

 empires 

 make no 

 impression. 



ter to the sea who they were or whither they 

 went ! A thousand ships go down to the bot- 

 tom as snow flakes fall and melt into a moun- 

 tain lake, but the sea does not change color. 

 She is inured to life; yes, and she is inured to 

 death. All things of earth may come and go. 

 But the sea lasts. There as at the dawning of 

 the first day the great Mother rests, calm, cold, 

 unconquerable. 



Yet men quarrel for her possession and talk 

 vainly of being " rulers of the wave," as though 

 the sea were more subject to rule than the open 

 sky ! One race of coasters drives another race 

 from the pathway of commerce and thinks 

 thereby to gain control. But power and mys- 

 tery and death are still there. Vast possibili- 

 ties are always hovering on the face of the 

 waters. For many years the waves lie still and 

 seem to slumber and then in a night they rise 

 up in storm to engulf and strangle. It is but 

 a momentary happening — a mere accident. An 

 area of water is wrinkled by the winds and 

 other portions of the sea are not even aware 

 of it. The great depths are as unrufl9ed as 

 ever. At heart eternal calmness, serene repose 

 are always with the sea. 



And always eternal beauty. In every clime 

 and in every season, from dawn to dusk, from 



Repose of 

 the sea. 



