The harbour is the only prospect to the northward, and
immediately in its rear the land rises so as to prevent anymore
distant view, and even the harbour appears dwindled to a miniature of
itself, being seen in the same picture with the mighty ocean that
nearly surrounds the beholder. The character of the whole scene is
melancholy, presenting the memorials of former life and population,
contrasted with its present apparent isolation from the natives of the
earth. The impression is not weakened by the sight of the few
miserable huts scattered along the shores of the port, and the little
fishing vessels, scarcely perceptible in the mountain-swell of the
ocean; they serve but to recall painfully the images of elegant
edifices that once graced the foreground, and of proud flags that
waved upon the face of that heaving deep.
"It is not easy to give a reason for the continued desolation of
Louisburg. A harbour opening directly upon the sea, whence egress is
unobstructed and expeditious, and return equally convenient at all
seasons; excellent fishing grounds at the very entrance; space on
shore for all the operations of curing the fish; every advantage for
trade and the fisheries is offered in vain. The place would appear to
be shunned by tacit consent. The shallops come from Arichet and St
Peter's Bay to fish at its very mouth, but no one sets up his
establishment there.
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