The Hushed Tempest.

The following circumstance is communicated to _The Christian_ by a

minister of the editor's acquaintance, as a memorial of God's care for

the poor and needy who trust in him:



It was about the year 1853, and near the middle of a Canadian Winter, we

had a succession of snowfalls, followed by high winds and severe cold. I

was getting ready to haul my Winter's stock of wood, for which I had to

go two miles ov r a road running north and south, entirely unprotected

from the keen cold west winds that prevail the most of the time in that

part of Canada during the Winter months.



The procuring of my Winter's supply of wood was no small task for me,

for I had very little to do with, and was unable to endure much fatigue,

or bear the severe cold. I had, however, succeeded in securing the

services of an excellent hand to chop, and help me load, and had also

engaged a horse of one neighbor, and a horse and sled of another, and

was ready on Monday morning to commence my job. Monday morning the roads

were fair, the day promised well, and my man was off at daybreak to the

woods to, have a load ready for me. There had been quite a fall of snow

during the night; not enough to do any harm if it only lay still, but

should the wind rise, as it had after every snow-fall before, it would

make it dreadful for me. Soon as possible I harnessed my team, and

started. I had not gone a quarter of a mile before it became painfully

evident that a repetition of our previous "blows" was impending. The sky

was dark and stormy, the wind rose rapidly, and in every direction

clouds of the newly fallen snow were beginning to ride on the "wings of

the wind," pouring over the fences, and filling the road full! My heart

sank within me. What could I do? At this rate, by next morning the roads

would be impassable, and it was so cold! Besides, if I failed to go on

now, it would be very difficult to get my borrowed team together again,

and impossible to get my man again; and we could as well live without

bread as without wood in a Canadian Winter.



Every moment the wind increased. In deep distress, I looked upon the

threatening elements, exclaiming over and over, "What shall I do?" I

felt then that there was but one thing that I could do, and that was

just what poor sinking Peter did; and with feelings I imagine something

like his, I looked up to God, and cried out, "O, my God, this is more

than I am able to bear. Lord, help me! The elements are subject to thee;

thou boldest the winds in thy fist. If thou wilt speak the word, there

will be a great calm. O, for Jesus' sake, and for the sake of my little

helpless family, let this snow lie still and give me an opportunity of

accomplishing this necessary labor comfortably!" I do not think it was

above fifteen minutes after I began to call upon the Lord before there

was a visible change. The wind began to subside, the sky grew calm, and

in less than half an hour all was still, and a more pleasant time for

wood-hauling than I had that day, I never saw nor desire to see. Many

others beside me enjoyed the benefit of that "sudden change" of weather,

but to them it was only a "nice spell of weather," a "lucky thing;"

while to me it was full of sweet and encouraging tokens of the

"loving-kindness of the Lord." And now, after so many years, I feel

impelled to give this imperfect narrative, to encourage others in the

day of trouble to call upon the Lord; and also, as a tribute of

gratitude to Him who has "never said to the house of Jacob, seek ye my

face in vain."