14 THE OCEAN. 
mast-head, one still discerns nothing in the wide cir- 
cumference but the same boundless waste of waters, 
that the mind grasps anything approaching an ade- 
quate idea of the grandeur of the Ocean. There is 
a certain indefiniteness and mystery connected with 
it in various aspects that gives it a character widely 
different from that of the land. At times, in pecu- 
liar states of the atmosphere, the boundary of the 
horizon becomes undistinguishable, and the surface, 
perfectly calm, reflects the pure light of heaven in 
every part, and we seem alone in infinite space, with 
nothing around that appears tangible and real save the 
ship beneath our feet. At other times, particularly 
in the clear waters of the tropical seas, we look down- 
ward unmeasured fathoms beneath the vessel’s keel, 
but still find no boundary; the sight is lost in one 
uniform transparent blueness. Mailed and glitter- 
ing creatures of strange forms suddenly appear, play 
a moment in our sight, and with the velocity of 
thought have vanished in the boundless depths. The 
very birds that we see in the wide waste are mys- 
terious; we wonder whence they come, whither they 
go, how they sleep, homeless, and shelterless as they 
seem to be. The breeze, so fickle in its visitings, 
rises and dies away; “but thou knowest not whence 
it cometh and whither it goeth;” the night-wind 
moaning by, soothes the watchful helmsman with 
gentle sounds that remind him of the voices of be- 
loved ones far away; or the. tempest shrieking and 
groaning among the cordage turns him pale with the 
idea of agony and death. But Gop is there; lonely 
though the mariner feel, and isolated in his separa- 
4 
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