To the right, a low ridge of coral rocks rose almost as a wall from the
sea, and joined the herbage and brushwood at about a hundred paces,
while the wreck of the Pacific, lying like some huge stranded monster,
formed the prominent feature in the landscape. The sun was powerful
where its beams could penetrate; but where Mr. Seagrave stood, the
cocoa-nuts waved their feathery leaves to the wind, and offered an
impervious shade. A feeling of the extreme beauty of the scene, subdued
by the melancholy created by the sight of the wrecked vessel, pervaded
the mind of Mr. Seagrave as he meditated over it.
"Yes," thought he, "if, tired with the world and its anxieties, I had
sought an abode of peace and beauty, it would have been on a spot like
this. How lovely is the scene! - what calm - what content - what a
sweet sadness does it create! How mercifully have we been preserved
when all hope appeared to be gone; and how bountifully have we been
provided for, now that we have been saved, - and yet I have dared to
repine, when I ought to be full of gratitude! May God forgive me! Wife,
children, all safe, nothing to regret but a few worldly goods and a
seclusion from the world for a time - yes, but for how long a time -
What! rebellious still! - for the time that it shall please God in his
wisdom to ordain.
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