CHAPTER V 



OCEAN PLAINS 



How like infinity itself, rather than its sym- 

 bol, seems the sea! The great bulk of it, the 

 wide spread of it, the far reach of it, are ap- 

 palling. Horizon lines are not its boundaries, 

 nor blue walls of sky its confining barriers. 

 There is no place of its beginning nor yet again 

 of its ending. Its continuity is unbroken. The 

 land seems but a handful of islands sown care- 

 lessly here and there upon the waters; but the 

 sea stretches out unceasingly, keeps circling on 

 forever. The sun never rises, never sets upon 

 this kingdom of the wave. Alternate rounds 

 of night and day follow each other about the 

 shining surface, but it knows no time, no past, 

 present, or future. It had no youth, though 

 we speak of its formative period; it will never 

 have age, though we speak of its centuries of 

 existence. Nothing can prevail against it. No 

 climate, no season, no convulsion of the globe, 

 can more than agitate it for the passing mo- 

 ment. Storms rufile its surface, winds plow 



95 



ConlinuUy 

 of the sea. 



