ortable answer, and also
that about such a day we should land in America, which was even so
fulfilled. Upon the last day of the fifth month (July) 1657, we made
land.'

This land turned out to be the very part to which the Friends had most
desired to come. The pilot[36] had expected to reach quite a different
point, but the invisible guidance of his strange passengers was clear
and unwavering. 'Our drawing had been all the passage to keep to the
southward, until the evening before we made land, and then the word
was, "There is a lion in the way"; unto which we gave obedience, and
said, "Let them steer northwards until the day following."'[37]

That must have been an anxious day on board the _Woodhouse_. Think of
the two different clues that were being followed within that one small
boat: the Friends with their clasped hands, seeking and finding
guidance; up on deck the pilot, with his nautical knowledge, scoffing
very likely at any other method of progress than the reckoning to
which he was accustomed. As the slow hours passed, and no land
appeared to break the changeless circle of the sea, the Friends felt a
'drawing' to meet together long before their usual time. 'And it was
said that we may look abroad in the evening; and as we sat waiting
upon the Lord, we discovered the land, and our mouths were opened in
prayer and thanksgiving.'

The words are simple as any words could be. But in spite of the 260
years that separate that day from this, its gladness is still fresh.
All voyagers know the thrill caused by the first sight of land, even
in these days of steamships, when all arrangements can be made and
carried out with almost clock-like precision. But in the old time of
sailing ships, when a contrary wind or a sudden calm might upset the
reckoning for days together, and when there was the added danger that
food or water might give out, to see the longed-for land in sight at
last must have been even more of an event.

To all the Friends on board the _Woodhouse_ this first sight of
America meant a yet deeper blessedness. It was the outer assurance
that the invisible guidance they were following was reliable. The
Friends rejoiced and were wholly at rest and thankful. But the pilot,
instead of being, as might have been expected, convinced at last that
there was a wisdom wiser than his own, still resisted. Where some
people see life with a thread of guidance running through it
unmistakably, others are always to be fou