"GOD walketh upon the sea as he walketh upon the land," said the minister.

"The sea is his and we are his.

He will do what it liketh him with his own." As he spoke he looked with a steadfast soul into the black hollow of the wave that combed above us, threatening destruction.
The wave broke, and the boat still lived.

Borne high upon the shoulder of the next rolling hill, we looked north, south, east, and west, and saw only a waste of livid, ever forming, ever breaking waves, a gray sky streaked with darker gray shifting vapor, and a horizon impenetrably veiled.

Where we were in the great bay, in what direction we were being driven, how near we might be to the open sea or to some fatal shore, we knew not.