Darkness, thick darkness, then fell upon us, and by the heavy inky clouds hanging overhead, we saw that a storm was portending.
Nothing could we see through the impenetrable gloom that surrounded us. The sky was entirely overcast, and the light of the sun well-nigh obscured. Then as the wind increased to a tornado, lashing the billows furiously around us, which seemed ready to engulf us at any moment, dismal and weird sounds greeted us from all sides out of that awful gloom. But the storm was unlike the one we encountered before we entered the Strait-of-the-Cross, for there was neither lightning nor thunder nor the voice of words, as on the previous occasion.
The deep darkness and the tossing of the waves that rolled over us incessantly filled us all with intense distress and alarm, especially as we remembered that it was through our own negligence we had drifted so far out of our course and had allowed an intruder and enemy of the King to come on board to beguile us with his wiles.
Furthermore, when we attempted to steer our bark through the darkness, we found that our hitherto steady compass wavered from side to side in the most erratic fashion; at times almost going entirely round. It had been evidently much disturbed and injured by the touch of the evil Captain. Now, having neither the light of the sun nor a reliable compass, we could but toss helplessly on those tempestuous billows, without making the least headway: fearing, meanwhile, we might be overwhelmed by that raging storm.
Mr. Heart became so sick and faint that he had to be carried down to his cabin, and could do nothing but weep and moan all the day long. At the same time we were alarmed in seeing that our able first mate, Mr. Thoughts, wore a wild and bewildered expression like one bereft of his senses, and when he began to talk incoherently, we plainly saw that he had been quite upset by the subtle insinuations of the arch enemy who had boarded us.
Mr. Feelings, too, was somewhat similarly affected, and went about moaning dolefully as if deprived of all hope; while Captain Will showed sad signs of weakness and irresolution, and a lack of that decision and promptness that were his wont.
Then, while the storm was still raging, Thoughts suddenly exclaimed, “Perhaps, after all, what we have experienced lately may have been but a pleasant dream, and there may not be such a place as the Port of Paradise, or even any Celestial Shore.” Then he went on repeating over and over again, “Can it indeed be all a delusion?” Thus, our terror and alarm were greatly intensified by the strange condition of our chief officers, and we deeply regretted ever allowing that evil one to come on board.
At this juncture Mr. Conscience was fairly roused, and demanded with a loud voice to see the documents that had been given to us at the Port of Peace, as he appeared to have some misgivings as to their safety, fearing they might have been stolen by the piratical Captain.
When they were produced, he was much relieved, and on opening them out requested us all to look intently upon them—even poor weeping Mr. Heart.
“There,” said Conscience, putting his finger on the Royal Seal and signature of the King, “how can that be a delusion that is thus attested by the King Himself and bears His own signature?
“Can the Almighty—the infinitely holy King Elohim—be charged with falsehood? Away with the abominable thought forever. Such a thought could only come from the wicked enemy of all mankind; and that it could be for one moment breathed here shows that it was an evil day indeed when you allowed that vile deceiver (who is no other than the father of lies) to put his foot on board. You now see the sad consequences of not being more strictly on the watch, and of the false step you have taken in this awful darkness that has come upon us. We are now made to lament with the prophet of old, ‘Thou hast covered thyself with a cloud, that our prayer should not pass through.’ As to the reality of all that transpired at the wonderful cross and the Port of Peace, have we not—in addition to the priceless credentials still in our possession—the Holy Presence with us bearing witness to, and confirming every hour, the truth of all that marvelous grace then shown to us? How deplorably ungrateful and wicked then, to allow such unbelieving and dishonorable thoughts to find a place amongst us.”
Abashed and humbled at these faithful words of our good Pilot, no one durst say a word. For we now clearly saw our error and were all truly penitent and ready to confess our fault; while Thoughts admitted that he was the chief offender, saying how greatly ashamed he felt for allowing the wicked suggestions of the intruder to influence him as they had done.
As the storm still continued, and there was no sign of the clouds dispersing, it was resolved that Mr. Feelings should join Mr. Heart in his cabin, to pray continually for deliverance; while the Captain set a double watch to look out for the first gleam of light or rift in those dark clouds by which we might be guided out of the storm.
Again and again Mr. Heart prayed confessing his fault, saying also, “Hide not Thy face from me in the day when I am in trouble,” when Mr. Feelings added, “Lord lift Thou up the light of Thy countenance upon us.”
After we had thus continued in prayer for a season, the Holy Presence—whose voice had not been heard for some time—whispered in Mr. Heart’s ear, “In a little wrath I hid My face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer.”
Encouraged by these gracious words, we began to be more hopeful, and as we thus continued earnestly praying and looking up to the heavens, we were glad to perceive the clouds beginning to break; though still dark, they seemed to have bright “silver linings.”
This greatly cheered us and revived our flagging spirits, but we ceased not to pray.
Directly after, a faint light was seen far out on the dark waters, and we hastened towards it, as the wind was now more steady and in our favor. As we approached the light, the clouds gradually melted away, and a convenient little harbor opened out before us, into which we sailed with all due speed.
This we found to be the safe and well-sheltered haven of Restoration, provided by our good King as a harbor of refuge for mariners who, like ourselves, might have strayed or missed their way. At the further end of the haven we beheld a high and beautiful castle, standing out prominently before us near the water’s edge: whose lofty turrets glistened brightly in the brilliant sunshine that now illumined the whole of that calm and inviting harbor.
From the towers we saw that signals were hoisted inviting us to draw near to the castle, to which we gladly responded; and as soon as we were drawn up alongside the landing stairs, a person of most benevolent countenance and gentle manner came down to welcome us, saying as he did so, “Give all praise to our good King Elohim, who hath brought you safely out of the storm into this safe and quiet haven: for He hath heard your supplications in your distress, your confessions have reached His gracious ear, and He hath brought you out of darkness and the shadow of death, into the glorious light of His Presence again.”
Then we learned from the attendants that this was the Castle of Consolation, and the kind person who addressed us was the Governor of the Castle, and a high Commissioner of the King, whose name was Restorer.
Seeing our haggard and half-famished looks—for we had fasted long during the storm—the Governor ordered an abundant supply of refreshments to be brought us, and kindly remarked that he would sup with us that day.
When the beautiful repast was spread, and the kind Governor had taken his place among us, Mr. Heart, in giving thanks, remarked, “We are indeed wholly unworthy of this gracious mark of the King’s favor, and the presence of his high Commissioner with us today to assure us of the King’s forgiveness; for we had grievously offended through gross negligence, forgetting to take our daily sights, and sleeping away our precious time—going so far out of our proper course. But above all, by admitting a vile impostor and enemy of the King on board—even for one moment—to beguile us from our faith and thus grieve the Holy Presence in our midst.
All this, too, was much aggravated by the circumstance that we had been so fully forewarned by our kind Counselor at the Port of Peace. “The greatest blame should be laid to my charge,” said Thoughts —and so said Feelings and the Captain, for all were now truly humbled, on account of their transgressions.
“Truly,” said the Governor; “but your first fault was going so near and staying so long in company with those chilling icebergs, and then indolently drifting so far out of your way, as alas! many do. Thus you fell into the snare of the enemy, and were overtaken by the storm which marked the King’s displeasure. But where there is true penitence and sincere confession, the King delighteth to pardon and to restore such to the light of His countenance.
“But who did the enemy that came on board say he was?”
Thoughts. “Captain Brightness of the Angelico.”
Governor. “Ah, Brightness truly at one time; for his real name was Lucifer, the ‘son of the morning.’ “But oh, how fallen! For now what is he but darkness itself? while his fell mission is to throw doubt and darkness upon everything he approaches. The boat he sails in is the Doubting Demon; though he always assumes some other fine name in order to deceive, and Angelico is one of his favorite names, by the use of which he hopes to give the impression that he comes as an ‘Angel of light,’ to render some good service. But how came he to injure your compass so seriously?”
Thoughts. “By first questioning its correctness, and then, when permitted to examine it, rapidly passing his evil hand in a strangely dexterous manner over it, causing the needle to quiver and fly from one side to the other, much disturbed and agitated, as if it had entirely lost its polarity.”
Governor. “I thought so—that is his usual way of proceeding; for by adroitly concealing a very powerful magnet and passing it quickly over the compass, he contrives either to injure it seriously or destroy its polarity altogether; then he pretends or insinuates that the compass is itself defective.
“That strong magnet, which was forged in the fires of the first great rebellion of the fallen angels, is his favorite instrument, and is compounded of pride, lies and doubt, with which he has wrought incalculable mischief.
“Many poor mariners whose compasses he has thus mysteriously injured (but who knew it not at the time) have sailed wildly hither and thither, first in one direction, then in the opposite, tossed about with every wind and wave in great perplexity, by reason of the unreliableness of their wavering compasses. Aye, thousands of those who have not found their way into the Strait-of-the-Cross have thus been shipwrecked and lost forever. But what else did the enemy do unto you?”
Then we recounted to the Governor all that transpired during the time the pirate Lucifer was on board, and how he precipitately retreated at the appearance of Mr. Conscience, armed with the sharp sword.
“You had indeed a fortunate escape,” said the Governor, “for he might have done you much further mischief; especially if he had managed to get possession of your valuable records, which he was particularly bent upon securing.
“How much you owe to the Holy Presence (to whom all praise be given) who aroused Mr. Conscience at that critical moment to expel the vile intruder.”
Now when the banquet was concluded and we had been much cheered and refreshed, we sang a hymn of thanksgiving to our blessed Lord, who had thus so graciously restored us.
“The Lord is our Saviour our helper and friend,
Who lovingly watches our souls to defend;
And ofttimes when tempted through folly to stray
He tenderly leadeth us back to His way;
E’en when by the tempter we’re sorely beguiled,
With terrible doubts, and are sadly defiled,
For a moment in anger He hideth His face,
But restoreth our souls in His infinite grace.”
Then the Governor conducted us over the castle to show us the beauties and comforts of the place, directing us the meanwhile to readjust and tighten on our armor. “For remember,” said he, “you have to ‘Wrestle against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places,’” then adding with great earnestness, “Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong.” He also gave us a phial of precious cordial, called Spiritual Meditation, instructing us to take it whenever we felt weary or drowsy, so that we might not sleep again on our midnight watches.
He then took us up to the top of one of the highest turrets of the castle, where a large telescope was placed to view the distant prospects that were to be seen from that high position.
Not being accustomed, however, to take in such an extensive range of view as was presented to us, we at first saw but dimly.
But when our eyes had been again anointed with another wonderful eye salve, called Spiritual Discernment, our vision was marvelously cleared and strengthened, so that we now beheld some most glorious sights, and were, moreover, enabled to “see the things that are not seen, even the things which are eternal.”
“It is the good and gracious King Elohim,” remarked the Governor, “who now giveth you this blessed faculty of vision, as it is written: ‘Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him. But God hath revealed them unto us by His Spirit.’”
Then for a while we contemplated—though as yet afar off—with silent admiration, that beautiful land of the blest, “Where the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest.”
And as we continued to survey, through that wonderful telescope, the magnificent prospect before us, unwilling for a while to take our eyes away from the enchanting scene, sweet soft strains of music floated upwards and resounded through all the great halls of Consolation Castle, and when we turned to listen, we heard:
“There is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign,
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.
There everlasting spring abides,
And never fading flowers;
Death like a narrow sea divides,
This heavenly land from ours.”
“Now,” said the Governor, “you have divinely imparted evidence of the ‘things not yet seen,’ of the reality of the blessed home that awaits you on the other side; and you can surely now say with all confidence, ‘We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.’”
“Aye, truly,” remarked Thoughts, (who now remembered what he had said after the tempter had disturbed his faith), “and I trust we shall never again for one moment question the reality of that eternal habitation prepared for us on the other side.”
Our injured compass was then restored to its former condition, set and regulated by the King’s standard; our sick officers were restored to health, and all the damages we had sustained repaired, so that we were now fully prepared to resume our voyage.
When about to depart, the kind Governor presented us with a new telescope like to the one we had been looking through, and giving us his parting benediction, said, “The God of all grace who hath called us unto His eternal glory by Jesus Christ, after that ye have suffered awhile, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you.”
And the attendants waved their kind farewell with the encouraging words:
“Launch thy bark, Mariner! Christian, God speed thee!
Let loose the rudder-bands! Good angels lead thee!
Set thy sails warily; tempests will come;
Steer thy course steadily! Christian, steer home.
“Slacken not sail yet at inlet or island,
Straight for the beacon steer—straight for the high land;
Crowd all thy canvas on, cut through the foam—
Christian! cast anchor then—HEAVEN IS THY HOME.”
Mrs. Southey