ATLANTIC OCEAN SCENERY DESIRED.
The mind soon tires of tranquil scenes. On the way from the Sandwich Islands to China I had my fill of tranquility. I found myself yearning for a gale; felt great respect for the Gulf Stream, with waves as high as the main yard; longed to see breakers; wondered why the sea would not occasionally come over our rail. There seemed to be talent about the Rio de la Plata; Cape Horn was true genius; the North Atlantic a giant with a progeny in its own image. The halcyon waters of the Pacific impressed me as amiable but weak; their countenance wore a perpetual smile; they looked as though they believed themselves to have reached a sinless state. You long to see their temper tested; you would be willing to see them ruffled, even angry; hear them lift their voice out of its monotony with upbraiding, rather than be so unnaturally gentle. Does the sea have waves of mettle which it employs in hazardous enterprises, trusting them, and only them, in daring feats? I came to feel that there were waters which bore a character for hardihood, nurtured by tempests, voiced for symphonious concerts with typhoons, not counting their lives dear unto them but dying on the high places of the field. Let me see them once more! When will this trade wind region come to an end, and the sea utter its voice and lift up its hands on high? I felt that the sea reverenced greatness, honored its waters which stormed impregnable rocks and poured out their lives at the call of duty. These lines came to me, in this connection:
ELECT WAVES.
The sea has gallant troops, adventurous waves;
Tell me, intrepid mariner, where are they?
Not where the peaceful isles adorn the bay,
Nor where the tranquil sea a smooth beach laves,
But where huge billows tunnel giant caves,
Forcing through spouting horns in myriad showers
Enormous breakers which the chafed sea pours
On sharpened rocks, finding their several graves.
Or, where a light-house guards the rock-bound coast
The sea will summon up its fierce brigade
To quench the lantern, leaping high in air.
These, not its halcyon waves, it honors most.
Who moved first on the deep, the Spirit, said,
“Whom the Lord loves he chastens, nor will spare.”