SHIPS THAT PASS 



245 



There is, at times, a feeling common to every 

 one of us that we are a part of the universal 

 whole, that sometime in the history of the race 

 we were more closely related to the elements 

 than now; and that perhaps originally the sea 

 was the cradle of us all. 



But how long do we dream of our elemental 

 origin, how long are we impressed or emotional 

 or exclamatory over the immensity of the sea? 

 We wander by the shore, we follow the rise and 

 fall of trooping waves, watch the rush of water 

 up the beach, and presently, for all our love 

 of the beautiful, we are looking at things and 

 not seeing them. The mind becomes uneasy, 

 lonely, somewhat afraid; and finally reverts to 

 mankind and the doings of the race. Then the 

 eyes no longer behold the sea. They sweep 

 around the horizon not for the sapphire glow of 

 the waves but for what the waves may tell of 

 humanity, not for the gray wings that come 

 and go along the hollows and the crests but for 

 the white wings of ships that rise and fall. 



A sail ! a sail ! How the vision strains at the 

 distant spot of dull white! How closely that 

 spot is scanned for sign or signal of whence it 

 came or whither it goes ! We have an interest, 

 a sympathy there. For each ship with her com- 

 pany and cargo that hovers along the distant 



Emotions 

 by the sea. 



The uneasy 

 mind. 



The dis- 

 tant sail. 



