When it became apparent to the seamen of Europe that the new countries of the West were not Asia, but part of a new continent, the idea suggested itself of seeking a way round the north—as also round the south—of this continent, in order to reach the coveted sources of wealth, India and China: the problem of the North-West Passage was presented—a continuation on a grand scale of the routes opened up by the Norsemen towards the north-west.
But equally present was the thought that perhaps there was another and shorter way round the north of the old world; and the problem of the North-East Passage arose. The working out of this problem was simply a continuation of the north-eastern voyages of the Norwegians to the White Sea.
In this way were born the two great illusions, which for centuries held the minds of explorers spellbound. They could never be of value as trade-routes, these difficult passages through the ice. They were to be no more than visions, but visions of greater worth than real knowledge; they lured discoverers farther and farther into the unknown world of ice; foot by foot, step by step, it was explored; man’s comprehension of the earth became extended and corrected; and the sea-power and imperial dominion of England drew its vigour from these dreams.
What a vast amount of labour lies sunk in man’s knowledge of the earth, especially in those remote ages when development proceeded at such an immeasurably slower pace, and when man’s resources were so infinitely poorer. By the most manifold and various ways the will and intelligence of man achieve their object. The attraction of long voyages must often enough have been the hope of finding riches and favoured lands, but deeper still lay the imperious desire of getting to know our own earth. To riches men have seldom attained, to the Fortunate Isles never; but through all we have won knowledge.
The great Alexander, the conquering king, held sway over the greater part of the world of his day; the bright young lord of the world remained the ideal for a thousand years, the hero above all others. But human thought, restless and knowing no bounds, found even his limits too narrow. He grew and grew to superhuman dimensions, became the son of a god, the child of fortune, who in popular belief held sway from the Pillars of Hercules, the earth’s western boundary, to the trees of the sun and moon at the world’s end in the east; to whom nothing seemed impossible; who descended to the bottom of the sea in a glass bell to explore the secrets of the ocean; who, borne by tamed eagles, tried to reach heaven, and who was fabled by Mohammedans and Christians to have even attempted to scale the walls of Paradise itself—there to be checked for the first time: “Thus far and no farther.” No man that is born of woman may attain to the land of heart’s desire.
The myth of Alexander is an image of the human spirit itself, seeking without intermission, never confined by any bounds, eternally striving towards height after height, deep after deep, ever onward, onward, onward....
The world of the spirit knows neither space nor time.
FINIS