It became stormy in the afternoon of December 21st, with rain. We were
driven off our course. The sea came over the sides of the main deck.
The motion of the ship was that of a rocking horse. She was so full
of a cantering spirit that I knew it would be useless to expect sleep
in my berth, so I lay upon a cabin sofa and had rest. The waves were
Cape Horn swells. We are directly at the foot of the American continent
inclining upwards toward the North. Should we do as well the rest of
the way as the preceding, we shall be a hundred and twelve days only
from New York to San Francisco. We were all on deck this afternoon
enjoying the Cape Horn scenery. The captain and I talked of an event
in our family history when he was eight years old, which made this day
memorable. We did not then dream of going round Cape Horn twenty-one
years from that day. “O how great is thy goodness which thou hast laid
up for them that fear thee, which thou hast wrought for them which
trust in thee before the sons of men.”