After escaping these perils, by changing our course, and while sailing somewhat more easily in the broad Policy channel, we were overtaken by a well-appointed bark, which desired to keep us company. Then learning from us our purpose and destination, the commander of the Lacking (for that was the name) said, “I have long resided by the famous Golden Mountains, and am now homeward bound to those regions.
“While at home there, a short time ago, I became alarmed at the instability of everything, and the suddenness with which many were called away forever, being thus compelled to give up, in a moment, all their precious treasures.
“And as I greatly longed for some more enduring home, and a life (full as it is of so many precious hopes) that could not be so suddenly quenched, I hastened forth to inquire the way by which I might find it.
“And meeting with one who was reputed to be a great Teacher and Prophet, I asked him what I should do to find this lasting or eternal life.
“His strange answer was, ‘One thing thou lackest: go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come ... and follow Me.’ At this saying I was sadly grieved, and turned away much disappointed; for how could I give up my luxurious home down yonder, with all its precious treasures?
“The price was too great, so I am now returning to my old home.” Then, evidently wishing to hasten his return, he hoisted more sail and quickly drew ahead, and he was soon out of sight, on his way back to his great possessions.
Shortly after this, another vessel, very much battered and weather-beaten, was seen coming from the opposite direction to meet us, with all sail set, beating up against a strong wind and heavy tide; and evidently striving to hasten on their way out of that channel.
When abreast of us, we hailed them and inquired the reason of their unusual conduct in sailing in a direction away from the Golden Mountains, and against such a strong current. “Oh,” said the alarmed pilot of this battered-looking boat, “we have long been the slaves of the tyrant Mammon, down yonder in the so-called Bay-of-ease by the Golden Mountains, and we have long toiled and reveled in the Mines of Filthy Lucre.
“But when we beheld the dread uncertainty that hung over everything there, and the hourly changes that were occurring, we became greatly concerned and alarmed. For every day some of the worshippers and slaves of Mammon—while in the midst of their fleeting enjoyments—were snatched away—never to return, and without carrying even the smallest fragment of their treasures with them. One of these who had gathered plentifully there and had built great stores in which to bestow his goods, was saying to himself, just as they were finished: ‘Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry.’ He heard that very night a terrible voice—even the voice of the Almighty—saying, ‘Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided?’
“Another, who lived in a grand palace (hard by the castle of King Mammon himself) and fared sumptuously every day, for he was very rich, was quickly taken away from all his wealth: carrying nothing whatever away with him. Then the next we heard of him was the awful tidings that ‘in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments,’ calling for a drop of water to cool his tongue, and saying, ‘I am tormented in this flame.’
“Beside all this, a dark and dreadful cloud hangs, like a funeral pall, perpetually over the whole place; which we were told was the precursor of a sweeping storm that would ere long descend upon its doomed inhabitants: because of their being gathered together there to serve the usurper Mammon, and thus continue in rebellion against their rightful Sovereign. And yet, though that dark and ominous cloud casts a most gloomy shadow over everything there, the slaves of Mammon never seem to see it, by reason of the blindness which has fallen upon them, while gazing so intently and constantly upon the treasures they are heaping together: only, in many cases, to look at them for a few brief moments, and then suddenly leave them forever.
“So, being in great fear,” continued the alarmed voyagers, “we resolved to leave forthwith, and seek the way of escape from these impending judgments, which we have been told might be found by a channel called the Strait-of-the-Cross—if perchance we may find it.”
On this they braced up their sails and passed us, striving to go ahead against the current, though evidently laboring heavily as they went on their way.
Not deterred, however, by these startling accounts of Wealthland, nor by the many warnings we had received, we still continued to sail on with our utmost speed to the port for which we had set out, regardless of all consequences.
But in spite of all our reckless efforts to hasten on, we found ourselves continually drifting, and before we had proceeded far, we ran aground on a hidden sandbank when the strong swell of that terrible current (growing stronger and stronger every hour) began to break heavily upon us, so that we were now in a very sorry plight indeed.
At this trying juncture, Mr. Heart was again seized with one of his fainting fits and became very ill. Mr. Feelings, too, was more depressed than he had ever been before: while great fear fell upon all on board.
Even the Captain’s resolution (headstrong and stout-hearted as he was) began to fail him, and he seemed for a while at a loss what to do. Our fears were also much intensified by the deep groans of poor Mr. Conscience in his prison below, at the same time that the solemn voice, so often heard before, kept ever repeating in Mr. Heart’s ear, “Turn ye, turn ye, from your evil ways; for why will ye die?”
Then in our alarmed condition, a council of all the officers was held to consider what we should now do; at which our imprisoned pilot was allowed to be present. After much discussion—in which our two mates had sundry objections to offer, as they were loath to give up all hope of reaching Wealthland—it was resolved that, as soon as we cleared the sandbank, we should change our course again, give up the vain and weary search for happiness in the devious channels that led to Wealthland, and endeavor to find the way of escape that had been pointed out to us—if indeed such a way could be found.
But how to go about this we knew not, in our sad state of ignorance, fear, and confusion. The charts of Way-of-the-world, on which we had hitherto entirely relied, could afford us no assistance whatever in the direction we now wished to steer, as they showed us nothing but the crooked ways to those perilous Isles of the World, and even these were falsely described, as we had found out to our sorrow.
Neither could our compass, which we had from the same dealer, be at all depended upon, because of its uncertain and changeable movements: it would at times suddenly swing round in all directions, seemingly without polarity, or any fixed point to turn to. Our chronometer, too, being set only to the changeable standards of that disordered world, was sadly out of time and order and could afford us no help as to our whereabouts—and our telescopes were no better, as I have already said.
We, therefore, got out the Royal chart (which had been so hurriedly stowed away) in order to seek for guidance in our extremity.
Both Mr. Understanding and Mr. Conscience (now liberated) helped the Captain and Mr. Thoughts in their search through these neglected and hitherto much-despised charts.
But after being so long engaged in vain and foolish pursuits, according to the blinding and depraving fashion of the world, and being naturally very dull and slow in our perceptions of everything, save what we had learned from Way-of-the-world’s teachings, we could not comprehend the King’s charts. They seemed like strange mysteries to us then.
Even Mr. Heart and Mr. Understanding, as well as our otherwise quick-witted first mate, Mr. Thoughts, had become so dull and gross that they could not perceive nor understand the clearly defined way of escape provided by Prince Emmanuel, although so plainly laid down and described in the charts.
Mr. Conscience, too, after his long confinement, had become very feeble and depressed, as well as blunted in his perceptions (though at times his wild mutterings continued to alarm us) and, therefore, could render but slight assistance.
Then in our great perplexity as to the course we should steer, and when we found it more difficult than ever to make any headway against the strong current, a dark mist enveloped us, shutting out the lights of heaven and everything from view, while the sea rose in mountains high and tossed us about helplessly. Strange, lurid lights flitted here and there through the darkness, as if to terrify and bewilder us, or to lure us on to the breakers—which seemed by the roar of the billows to surround us on all sides.
But having been warned by the King’s messengers to be on our guard against Abaddon’s wreckers, who were probably lurking about in these quarters, and bent on our destruction, we gave no heed to those false lights.
While groping our way in the obscurity, and when the storm was at its height, Mr. Conscience broke out again in sharp rebuke, saying that through our wicked disobedience of the King’s commands, and refusing to attend to the warnings and directions of His messengers, we had brought ourselves into this strait: as the words in the King’s Directory declared, “I also will choose their delusions, and will bring their fears upon them; because when I called, none did answer; when I spake they did not hear: but they did evil before Mine eyes, and chose that in which I delighted not.”
Such words at such a moment filled us all with consternation, especially as we could not help feeling the truth and justice of the accusation. And Mr. Heart remembered now only too well the many words of the Voice that so often spoke in his ear in the silent watches of the night, to which he had not given the slightest heed, and as he thought thereon, he could not refrain from crying aloud in his distress.
Shortly after, the watch on the deck called our attention to a faint light in the surrounding gloom that appeared more fixed and steady than any we had seen before, so we steered directly for it, hoping to find some assistance. On drawing near, we were glad to make out a light ship at anchor there, and in answer to our inquiries, a voice, hailing us through a speaking trumpet, kindly invited us to come alongside.
We were then told that this was one of the King’s light ships, called the Helper, stationed there to warn mariners of their dangers, and especially to help such as desired to escape from the perils of that stormy ocean.
“Where are you bound to?” inquired the Commander of the Helper.
“We scarcely know,” said Captain Will in his bewilderment, “except it be to escape from the dangers that beset us everywhere on this ocean.
“Having been recently overtaken by a dark mist, and in great fear of being lost in the darkness through the violence of the waves and the strong current, we have hastened on here to ask for guidance to the channel that leads (as we have been informed) to the haven of rest on the other side.”
“Then,” said the voice from the Helper, “If you would indeed escape from these perils, I shall be most happy to direct you into the right way, seeing that it is for this very purpose I am sent here by the good and gracious King Elohim.
“If you will now look in the direction where the light from my lantern is reflected, you will see a dark, rocky prominence known as the Rock of Repentance: the turning point around which you must sail, to clear the difficulties and dangers of this terrible sea.
“Then just around that point, you will find a short and direct way to the Strait-of-the-Cross, the only safe channel in all this ocean, which has been opened out by the blessed Prince Emmanuel Himself.
“Moreover, there is no other way to the Prince’s channel but around that rocky point. Be sure you steer direct for the dark-looking rock; for many, alas! either from fear of that point, because of its somewhat gloomy and forbidding appearance, or from not believing the directions given to them, have avoided it altogether; and then hurrying by, have ultimately perished in the great whirlpool lower down, to which all inevitably sail, when once they have passed that point.
“Be not afraid of the seeming darkness of that rocky promontory, for the moment you round it you will find a high tower with light thereon, just on the other side, where one of the King’s watchers will be ready to lend you a helping hand and show you the way to the Strait-of-the-Cross. Cry earnestly to the gracious King Elohim for assistance—without which you cannot make the least headway—for He is ever near and ready to help the needy and those who seek His ways. Now hasten on without delay to round that point.”