The Dark Day by M. E. Cornell

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Aug 5, 1873

The Dark Day.

By M. E. Cornell

NINETY-THREE years ago the 19th day of last May, there occurred a phenomenon in New England which has never yet been accounted for; and it was, at the time, the general opinion that it was supernatural. There were no real clouds, or storm, and yet it was the darkest day ever known since the crucifixion of Christ. It seems, by all the accounts, that the impression upon nearly all minds at the time, was, that it was a sign of the end of the world. And by reference to the Scriptures, we find the time had fully come for such a sign to be given. There can, therefore, be no doubt that it was the fulfillment of the prediction of our Lord, “The sun shall be darkened.” Matt. 13: 24. The Spirit of God witnessed to the sign, and impressed the conviction upon all minds with great solemnity. And thus it was recorded by many able pens at the time. So unusual, so solemn, so clearly supernatural, was the event that it is even now frequently reverted to in the public prints, candidly described, and admitted to be supernatural.

The following is from the Concord [N. H.] People:—

“Last Monday was the ninety-third anniversary of the memorable ‘dark day.’ Throughout New England and some adjacent portions of New York and Canada, such was the darkness that people could not read or dine at mid-day without lighting candles. The phenomenon commenced about ten in the morning. At eleven, the darkness was so great that the fowls went to roost, the birds ceased to fly, and hid themselves in the branches of the trees, the whippoorwills sang their evening songs, frogs piped their accustomed concert, and the cattle collected about the barns as at night.

“On the human family the effect was still more curious and terrifying. The mechanic left his tools in the shop, the farmer, his plough in the furrow, and each moved in silent and marveling mood toward the barn or dwelling. On the home threshold they were met by pale and anxious women, who tremblingly inquired, “What is coming?” The alarmed traveler, seeking the sympathy of his fellow-man as one impressed with a sense of impending peril, put up at the nearest house, and mingled his anxious questionings and forebodings with those of the family. Strong men met and spoke with surprise on their countenances, and little children peered timidly into the deepening gloom, and then sought the sheltering parental arms.

“Schools broke up in affright, and the wondering pupils scampered homeward with many expressions of childish fear. The inevitable candle shone out of the windows of all dwellings; every countenance gathered blackness; all hearts were filled with fear of an approaching, unparalleled storm, or the occurrence of a terrestrial convulsion; but it was not the blackness of the storm-cloud, such as sometimes, with a frightful agitation, breaks over a single city; it was the silent spreading of the pall-cloth over the earth by strong, invisible hands.

“Before twelve, candles became necessary, and many omitted their dinners, fearing the day of Judgment had come. The darkness of the day having been succeeded an hour or two before evening by a partially clear sky, and the shining of the sun, still obscured by the black and vapory mist, rendered the first half of the night hideously dark beyond all former experience, probably, of a million of people who saw it.”

The following verses I take from a hymn, “composed by Elder Peleg Burroughs, the 20th of the fifth month, 1780; according to the ability which God gave him, to commemorate the darkness of the preceding day.”

“’Twas on the nineteenth day of May, The sixth day of the week, One thousand sev’n hundred eighty, The Lord to us did speak: By spreading his thick clouds all round, And darkening the light: So that we heard the dreadful sound, Our day is turn’d to night! ’Twas like that awful gloomy day, When Christ was crucify’d; Who hung upon the cross at noon, And for poor sinners died! The oldest man cannot declare He ever saw the like; When no eclipse did happen rare, To take away the light! In short, the terrors of the day Can scarcely be conceiv’d! Yet in the last extremity, I was from fear reliev’d. Oh! how my soul doth long and pray, That sinners may believe The awful truths of God’s pure word, And grace from Christ receive.”

M. E. Cornell.

Napa City, Cal., June 11, 1873.