Western sentinel. [volume] (Winston [i.e. Winston-Salem], N.C.) 1856-1886, 1858-04-02
: From the N. G. Christian Advocate.
The Prisoner at Sea.

On sweet autumnal morning, as love-
ly as the month of May, noble ship lay
peacefully anchored in the beautiful har-s
Dor of Fair Haven. She intended to sail
passengers for the shore of Italy A band
of soldiers guarded distinguished prison
er, who professed to hold communion with
the invisible world. He predicted a storm.
The Captain laughed at him. The Com
mander listened to the Captain, and scorszs
ed the pretensions of the prisoner All
aboard, she weighed anchor, and spread
her canvass to the winds. With calm
blue sea, gently rufHed by a southern
breeze, bathed in the smile of natures
warm sunshine, she glided gracefully
away upon the waste Of waters, bearing
many from their native, to stranger lands
Ere the sun descended the slope of the
western sky, the heavens grew black, and
the dark folds of angry clouds rose and
spread themselves in dismal sheets upon
the sky. A few fearful blasts of wind
warned them to take in the sails; but be-
fore this could be done the violence Of the
tempest, with the tread of a tornado, was
upon them. The ocean lashed into fury
rocked from shore to shore, and the vessel
drifted at the mercy of the waves.
'Burst that from the cloud impends
And swelled with tempests on the ship descends
White the decks with foam; the winds
Howl DER the mastS and sing through every
shroud
Pale, trembling, tired the sailors freeze with fears
And instant death on every wave appears"
Not having seen the sun, moon, nor
stars for many days, and no abatement
of the rage of the tempest, driven they
knew not where, upon strange seas, they
resigned themselves to the safekeeping of
a watery grave. Farewell, native land!
Farewell, loved ones at home Farewell,
friends and foes Farewell No cpl
the rolling wave, shall mark the spot of
our peaceful repose The briny depths
shall be our bed, while we slum6er in the
waves. The Centurion and his prisoner,
the captain and his crew, the master and
his servant, shall sleep without distinction
side by side in a watery grave, till the
surging waves Of the resurrection morn
shall roll our bodies to the shore.
Of the soul when at hope has been surren-
dered, and the last SOLITARY ray has expir-
ed! In this forlorn condition, in unknown
regions Of the storm beaten main, expect
ing every plunge to go down to the bottom
Of the sea, the night came down upon
them in darkness, black as the gloom of
uncreated space, where a single ray Of
light has never fallen. Suddenly light,
above the brightness Of the sun, shone
around the 21r5s0aler at SEQ. A being, from
the flaming presence Of God, clothed with
the sun, stood before him. A short inter
view, and the light was blown out, and the
night was left with the prisoner at seq.
The morning came with no abatement
of the lowering tempests. He who in the
midst Of calm and sunshine predicted the
storm, now in the midst of its hoWling
rage, pointed to their deliverance and safe
ty Those who smiled in derision at his
former prediction, as crazy mans dream,
now manifested great confidence in his
revelations; and 275 persons hung with
breathless silence and trembling anxiety
upon the lips of the prisoner at sea.
On the morning Of the 18th day, amid
the laundering roar Of the pillows and the
foam Of the white capped sea, land came
in view, toward which the helpless vessel
was rapidly driving. The anchors were
thrown to the waters but they were pow
erless as the foam born bubble floating on
the wave. The ship struck the ground and
was soon broken to fragments by the vio-
lence of the angry waves The shipwreck-
ed crew, the soldiers and passengers, some
on boards, and others On pieces Of the yes
sci, without the loss of a single life, safely
reached the shore, in harmony with the
prediction of the prisoner at sea.
Gentle reader, for the present upon this
strange Island, [ leave the captain and
crew, the centurion and his band, the pas
sengers and the prisoner at sea. OF all,
except the latter, here in the midst of the
ocean we take final adieu! At some fu-
ture time we may trace the footsteps of the
prisoner at sea. APOLLOS.
Nor AT HoME.-The deceptive art of po-
lite society, in which "not at home" is en-
ployed to convey false impression, not
unfrequently fails of its aim. In classic
history the story is told Of Scipio Nasica,
who was a near neighbor of Ennius, the
poet; and calling one day upon Ennius, he
was met at the gate by the servant maid,
who told him that her master was not at
home. But such was her manner, that
Scipio at once perceived that in SO saying
she, had spoken falsely by the direction OF
! her master. 1t happened soon that Enni-
us called upon Scipio, who instead of send
ing messenger to the door, cried out, she
is not at home.o 70 which Ennius replied
81 know your voice." But Scipio answer.
ing said ssYou are an impudent man.
| I believed your maid when she said you
were not at home, but you will not believe
/ mo when T say IF ,pxseJf,;