The moon set at half past nine, and left the heavens aglow. Imagine the milky way, without its milky appearance, all the haze gone, the stars in it in crowds. The nebulous light dissolves in brilliant worlds, the Southern Cross at one end,
just above the Southern horizon, Orion at the other end in the zenith, and several of the bright constellations full in view.[2]
THE SOUTH EAST TRADE WINDS.
We celebrated a birthday a few days since, (Jan. 8th,) by having the South East Trades set in, blowing us on our direct course to San Francisco. Rose at six and sat on deck, the ship going at the rate of eleven knots, the foam flying before us in sheets. These S. E. Trade winds blow from 25° S. to the Equator, both in the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. The N. E. Trades blow from Lat. 30° N. to lat. 5° N.[3]
RELIGIOUS INTEREST.
My colleague, the captain, spoke to the crew on the Prodigal Son. We have conversed with several of the men, and have found that there are among them those who make a practice of secret prayer. We concluded to have a meeting in the evening, when we would explain the way to be saved. Twenty-four of the crew were present; indeed all who could be spared from duty. I spoke from the words, “Ho, every one that thirsteth,” &c., (Is. 55,) and the captain followed. Some of them showed a tearful interest. I advised them to begin and act as believers in the Saviour of men, to give up the long, wearisome endeavor which some of them had confessed to me they had been pursuing for years, to find if they were christians, or when and how they became such. Several of them are members of christian families, all of them have heard the gospel, understand the way of acceptance with God, are respectful in their attendance on religious service, show at times that they are impressed with the truths which they hear. It is deeply affecting to speak to these men. Soon they will be scattered to the four winds. Few of them shall we meet again in this world. This thought cannot fail to make one affectionate and earnest in preaching to them. It may be stated here that I never felt more deeply the privilege of declaring the gospel to men, nor did I in my congregation ever feel more the need of carefulness in my statement of christian truth. These men weighed everything which was spoken, did not care for excellency of speech, nor man’s wisdom; loved simplicity, felt nothing compared with the representations of Christ, his words, his treatment by men, his claims on them, his present and future glory, and his coming to judge the world.
SCRIPTURE PROMISES.
These have been a great, I may truly say, constant source of delight: “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.” Jos. I, 9. This was so impressed on my mind before leaving home, that I ventured to take it for my sailing orders. I feel that I have not come to sea of my own motion. I tried every other method of recovery, had many other plans of travel; but one after another was frustrated, and I was shut up to this, which, like a certain iron gate before a prisoner and his angel, is beautifully said to have “opened to them of his own accord.” I have no expectation other than that all will be well. Everything has proceeded so much better than I could have expected that there seems to be nothing to do but to receive trustfully every day’s experience. Words of Scripture have had a wonderfully sedative effect. When the sea rises I remember, “The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of the sea.” Ps. 93. One day in the Gulf Stream, when all around was in confusion, I thought of these words: “The waters saw thee, O God, the waters saw thee; they were afraid; the depths also were troubled.” Ps. 77:10. It was a comfort to know that there is One of whom the sea is afraid. If my heart can say, “O God, thou art my God,” why should I fear the sea? I may even say, “Lord, if it be thou, bid me come to thee on the water;” I may even come down out of the ship to go to Jesus. I was glad that the sea was afraid; it gave me a feeling of superiority to the sea. Paul says, “And in nothing terrified by your adversaries, which,” that is, your not being terrified, “is to them an evident token of perdition, but to you of salvation, and that of God.” One morning, lately, at home, as I was rising, my eye was caught by these words in the “Scripture Promises” which hung in my room: “When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee.” Is. 43:2. This, and the passage above quoted from Joshua, are most frequently in my thoughts. If those at home could look in upon us, they would give thanks. The day before we left New York, a clergyman who came on board said, “Probably the history of navigation contains no instance more remarkable than this: A father and daughters going to sea with a son and brother for captain, with everything combining to make them happy.” We said with thankful hearts, “The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad.”