THE COUNTRY. 125

 never thought of in a mass. It is always the
 individual which presents itself to the mind.
 Some one says of them, that they are count-
 able, if one had but eternity; it is, he declares,
 as if the observer "saw infinity," and he adds
 that a noise goes about through the high pine
 needles which seems to formulate itself into that
 lovely Latin song: -

 'Infinitas Infinitas I
 Hic mundus est infinitas!
 Infinitas et totus est,
 Nam mente nunquam absolveris;
 Infinitas et illius
 Pars quelibet, partisque pars.'"

 To wander for a day under their scanty shade,
among their endless files, the feet sinking deep
into the sand, and the eyes weary with their
lines and angles, is to be filled with a self-con-
sciousness which produces the same irritation
mentally, which dust in the eyes does physically.
Their apparently endless stretch is unrelieved by
any hillside or rolling prairie, and is broken only
by the spongy inroad of a swamp, laced with
narrow creeks which widen into rivers.