There is a spectacle greater than the ocean, and that is the conscience. There is a spectacle grander than the sky, and it is the interior of the soul. To write the poem of the human conscience, were the subject only one man, and he the lowest of men, would be reducing all epic poems into one supreme and final epos . It is no more possible to prevent thought from reverting to an ideal than the sea from returning to the shore. With the sailor this is called the tide. With the culprit it is called remorse. God heaves the soul like the ocean. Joseph Cook.Boston Monday Lectures: The Laughter of the Soul at Itself. Lecture.