Wednesday, January 27, 2010

January 27, 1820

January 27, 1820 - 10 o'clock.  A.M. - With a fine morning, and a fair breeze which sprang up soon after last evening sacrifice, we find ourselves delivered from the dangers of Le Maire and rapidly and pleasantly advancing toward our turning point, the place of hope and fear.  (One o'clock)  While at the rate of 8 knots an hour, the Brig serenely cuts her way, the long looked for cape rises full in view and all our hearts leap for joy.  But in the midst of congratulations, which we gratefully acknowledge that our times and seasons are at the disposal of an allwise providence, it becomes us to rejoice with trembling lest we should not sufficiently glorify God.  (2 o'clock, P.M.)  The wind rises - dark clouds hover round. - the approach of a whirlwind is announced - all hands are ordered on deck - the sails are filled, - the dead lights in, - the companion way closed, and we are imprisoned below deck, - For a moment our Heavenly Father seems to hold the rod over us. (1/2 past 2 P.M.) The wind subsides - a gentle rain descends, - and light breaks in again.  We know that he who made Cape Horn, and placed it as a waymark which the tempests of 60 centuries have not been able to remove can conduct us around it in safety. - nor shall whirlwinds nor storms prevent us from erecting upon it, in the name Jehovah, the "Rock of our Help," the Ebanezer of the Owhyhean Mission. (3 o'clock, P.M.)  The wind rises again, - All hands are called.  The waves lift themselves up. - and our little trembling, tottering bark with its invaluable freight, yields to the opposing currents and lightly bends her course towards the South.  (4 o'clock, P.M.) The sun breaks out in the clear western sky, while the dark tempest, passing off to the East, bears down upon the waters of the Atlantic, and leaves us running briskly South, and the cape gradually sinks behind a pleasant sea. - (6 o'clock, P.M.)  A stiff breeze and heavy sea from the west. (1/2 past 6)  The sun shuts in behind the cloud.  A squall approaches. (7 o'clock, P.M.)  The sun breaks out again and smiles.  Thus rapid are our changes.  Thus transitory are our scenes, and thus fluctuating the joys and sorrows of mortal life.

No comments:

Post a Comment