Have you, my gentle reader, ever seen the broad ocean in an angry mood
on a cold, pitiless winter day, when the horizon was hung with cold,
penetrating mist, when all overhead was black with fleeting clouds, when
the seas broke in their fury and threatened to destroy the frail bark
under your feet, and when rain, hail, and snow alternately swept through
the atmosphere, like showers of keen-pointed arrows--have you, I say,
ever contemplated this sublime and impressive scene without
acknowledging within yourself how omnipotent was God, and how feeble and
insignificant a thing was man?
There is, perhaps, no other place in the world where Nature so combines
all her elements to give an emphatic expression to the power and reality
of the Divinity, as in the vicinity of this famous old Cape.
The bold, rugged headlands of Patagonia were sighted on the morning of
the 4th of December. The wind had subsided a little, but a strong
current was setting through the straits, and short, sharp seas, such as
are experienced in the Bay of Fundy, indicated the ship's position as
clearly as if a good observation had been got.
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