Other instances have, however, occurred, of a far different character. Suffering, exhausted, and dying mariners, either upon wrecks or rafts, have been left uncared for and abandoned by the passing ship.
If the records of the past did not furnish conclusive evidence of the truth of the foregoing statement, it would seem that the bare announcement of the fact would be sufficient not only to appall the hardest heart, and cover with deep and lasting shame the perpetrators of such a deed, but to place it in the frightful category of those events absolutely beyond both human experience and credulity.
Revelation informs us that "the sea shall give up its dead;" so will there be a resurrection both of the good and bad in human conduct. A virtuous and benevolent act performed upon the ocean will never be concealed. The winds, as they sweep over its surface, will declare it. And so, on the other hand, an act of inhumanity, capriciousness, cruelty, or turning a deaf ear to the expostulations and entreaties of the dependent and suffering, will never slumber. The mighty waves, as they traverse the great deep, will speak in thunder tones that the deed lives.
The hopes of thirty-three persons in the cold and dreary region of the north, in the province of perpetual ice and snow, were suddenly and unexpectedly revived by the near approach of a ship within trumpet hail; signals of wrecked mariners on shore, the ship remaining more than fifteen minutes with her yards back, and those on board beholding the demonstrations of intense anxiety of those on shore that deliverance might be sent to them, and yet not one motion made for our rescue! The ship is soon on her way, and out of sight. If hope was ever suddenly and unexpectedly revived, it was then; if hope was ever suddenly cast down to its lowest depths, it was then.
Nor could our eyes hardly believe what we were beholding. Was it all illusion, dream, or magic? No; it was a reality. We had been tantalized. The cup of the greatest earthly blessing had been held to our lips, and yet we were not allowed to drink of it, but it was dashed to the earth in our very presence. The departure of that ship was the departure of mercies to us, to procure which we would have been willing to make the greatest earthly sacrifice.
What a day of joy and sorrow was that to us! How many hitherto downcast countenances were lighted up! What words of good cheer passed from one to another! How many hearts bounded with thankfulness and gratitude at the thought of so speedy a deliverance!
Our families and friends at home were thus far ignorant of the distressing scenes through which we had passed, and also of our present condition; but ere long, as we believed, on our arrival at the islands, we should communicate to them the wreck of our ship, the loss of the voyage, and the fortunate rescue of so many of our number from a watery grave.
We felt that we had much for which to be thankful to God, and that soon we should be able to send to anxious ones at home the happy intelligence that we were among the saved.
Such is hope when strongly excited. It ennobles and invigorates the human soul; it adorns the horizon with the gorgeous drapery of morning clouds; it paints the evening with the glories of departing day; it forgets the past; it is the elixir of life itself; without it man lives only in the present, and anticipates no future good.
But that was a day of sorrow too! It seemed as if we should sink into the very earth, and that we were unable to stand, with such a load and pressure upon our spirits. We were crushed both in body and mind. Contending emotions of indignation, abandoned hope, unmitigated grief, and poignant sorrow, swayed and strongly agitated every bosom. The whole company wept like children.