Women and children screamed with fright, and men jumped from their hammocks. For a few moments the ship stood perfectly still, as if stiffened with the stroke, then she shivered from stem to stern, and the timbers groaned and quivered; in a few moments more she was dashing headlong onwards through the mountain of waves. I should think if there were any on board who had never prayed before, they must have prayed now. Both men and women vied with each other in the exchange of good offices and friendly words.
Envy was subdued, passionate wrath and revenge were forgotten, all acted as men and women who were soon to stand in the presence of their God. There was the pure steady and charming light of Christian hope and love shining beneath the very shadow of death. It was a solemn and touching thing to hear so many strong men acknowledge, in that hour of peril, their utter helplessness, and praying Him who once lay on a pillow asleep, "Lord save us we perish"—praying Him to abide with us. The hatches were all canvassed and fastened down, so that none but the sailors and the soldiers on watch could go on deck, the sea was washing over the deck. That was indeed, an awful night, dark, chilling, and drenching; hour after hour passed as we momentarily expected our doom. The deck was continually washed over by great seas. As soon as morning light appeared, I managed to get on deck, though with extreme difficulty, both from dizziness and the motion of the ship. I was determined to enjoy the fresh air and see how the ocean looked, lashed into a tempest. I had to cling fast to keep my footing; the ship was pitching up and down, tossed like a feather in the wind. We rode on huge mountain billows of dark leaden colour, capped with molten glass and tipped with silvery caps of foam. As I hung on to the rope, meditating on the vastness of the ocean, and waves mountains high, my soul was deeply impressed with the omnipotence and infinity of the God who scooped out this mighty abyss, and filled it with those powerful waters. He hath set them their bounds and says to them in their wildest commotion, "thus far, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed."
This dreadful storm raged all day, and the night was terrible; there was no more distance nor space; the sky was turned into blackness, and shut itself down upon the ship, nothing was any longer visible on this the racecourse of the wind; we felt ourselves delivered over to a merciful providence. The men, women and children had their second attack of sea-sickness, even the sailors were sick. The storm raged all next day (Sunday) and night; no one on board could get anything cooked as the fires were all put out from the sea washing over the ship; even if they could, few could eat,—they were all so sick.
THE VOYAGE TO GIBRALTAR.
On the wide expanse of the stormy seas,
Our noble ship swept before the breeze,
Our gallant captain, when twelve days had run,
Tried with his sextant to take the sun.
The heavy fog seemed still much worse,
Scarcely knowing where to lay his course,