quently expressed, and which deeply humble me in my own estimation, are, I believe, neither insignificant nor ignorant acknowledgments; and these, contrasted with the confidence, with which I find myself received by the elders of the Ministry, who have commissioned and deputed me to carry, to those whom unhappy circumstances have compassed with obstructions in the way of salvation, the Gospel, in its simplicity and power, as I know it by experience, and understand it by investigation;-these circumstances make me feel myself most unmeritedly favoured by Him, who sitteth above the water-floods,' and hath led me through the depths to my present station. You will probably be solicitous to know, with what sentiments I embarked. If I were to say that I had no sensation of sorrow, to me I am sure it would not be honourable; but it was not the truth; though it is the truth, that every sensation of this kind 'was, and still is, a very undefined and uncertain feeling. I have no doubt of being at the post of duty. I am where God himself has brought me. But leaving home so completely, is a widely different thing from any that has hitherto occurred to me: and then, as I carry no home with me Oh! had I the company of her But let it rest; I will not trust myself on ground, which has so many times betrayed me to wretchedness; though now, more than ever, her society might seem to be wanted. But God is righteous in all His ways: and nothing unjust toward me has taken place. I richly deserved to lose one, whom I did not know how to value aright. Oh, how unutterably empty does this life seem to me of every thing but souls! * * Early on Sunday morning we sailed from Blackwall, the wind being fair, and every one, except myself, on board being free from doubt, as to the propriety of commencing our voyage on the Lord's day. Our captain has been a Methodist, and perhaps he once enjoyed religion, at least he says that he did, and I have no reason to question the truth of his assertion; but he has evidently lost its power and salvation, and though he feels this, he does not as yet fully return to his God. However, we saved no time by sailing on the Lord's day; for, while we were coming down the river, a brig ran foul of us, as our ship was in stays, as they term it, that is, in the act of turning round to get under sail. In an instant our gib-boom was carried away, and our bow-sprit greatly injured. At Gravesend it was therefore necessary to stay, and thus one breach of the Sabbath ordinance led to another. To repair the damage was instantly needful, and the rest of the day all the men on board were diligently employed in hard work. I, however, escaped to the shore, and found out the Preacher, good old Mr. Gower, an apostolic, hoary-headed, fatherly old man, at the head of an amiable family. They received me with great kindness, and the interview was to me a cordial of no small value. Never before did I so much feel the want, or the worth, of the ordinances of COMMENCEMENT OF HIS VOYAGE. 243 the sanctuary. I occupied Mr. G.'s pulpit in the evening, and felt much happiness in my work; but afterward, the reception of the sacrament with a numerous and apparently pious society, and the conversation of Mr. G., were very particularly blest to me. We had a very boisterous day and night at anchor, and were thus disappointed of sailing to the Downs till to-day; we have, however, fine weather now. There is something very terrible in bad weather on the water. I have appointed with Aquila to meet every day, at four o'clock in the afternoon, at a throne of Grace, to entreat, by special prayer, the Lord's blessing on our voyage and mission. I should be glad to meet likewise as many of you there, as are able to comply. But I have filled my sheet, and therefore close by presenting to each of the family my most affectionate assurances. Believe me Your very affectionate and dutiful Son, WILLIAM. To his eldest Brother. MY VERY DEAR BROTHER A. Under weigh for the Downs, You will, undoubtedly, be very anxious to know how we fared, during the blowing weather of yesterday and last night. We were at anchor at Gravesend, but even there it was to me a time of very much anxiety. The wind blew tremendously hard, and the rolling of the ship was considerable, yet all was well; and though the captain and pilot were by no means without anxiety, they had perhaps less, or perhaps more, than myself. I look earnestly to Him, who is a very present help in times of need, to allay that perturbation, which is occasioned by the unusual nature of my circumstances, the tremendous noises of men and elements, and the involuntary consciousness of risk. The weather, indeed, is so bad and so seemingly treacherous, that, did I not know there is a Hand to put in its effectual restraint at any moment, I should be far more anxious than I am. But I have devoted myself, my life, and my all to Him, who calmed the seas to the prayers of His disciples, and who brought His holy apostles safely through perils of waters. But the love of Christ, and the sanctifying, saving power of the Holy Spirit, are not sufficiently felt by me, and thus there is not power enough to cast away the cares of danger, or the fear of death. I have been, and still am, laying this in earnest prayer before the Lord, beseeching Him, for His great mercy's sake, to fill me with the Holy Ghost, and thus to give me the peace that passeth understanding.' However, I do not find these exercises without beneficial effect. My mind stills at the presence of Jesus, and my whole soul flees to Him and finds the refuge which it needs. Poor human nature, how I pity thee! and especially as thou art and dost within my breast! 6 The accidents in the late gales have been very numerous: every sailor's mouth is filled with them, and his face betrays emotions in which self has evidently a considerable influence. We have just passed by the top of a mast peeping above the water's level, as if in signal that the unfortunate hulk lies there. And now, at this instant, while writing the foregoing sentence, our pilot cries out :- There's a ship ashore !'-The captain and myself, stepping upon deck, have just taken a look at her. A melancholy sight! She has run upon a ledge of sand, and there at present she remains, till, favoured by the gift of fine weather, she may perhaps be got off; but if not, she remains to be battered by the sea till she goes to pieces. A great number of sloops are about her, in order to lend their help, and to get off her cargo ; but with what success, must be left to the Almighty. I never had so lively an impression of a sailor's dangers as now, and I blame myself much, for having been no more conscious of them, and no more urgent in prayer to God for His blessing on men so exposed and so devoted; but I earnestly sympathise with the efforts now made to bring them acquainted with God, their Bible, and the salvation therein revealed. We are now getting into wide water, the ship begins to be sensible of its motion, and myself to be sensible of hers. Let me therefore close, by once more entreating your most direct and ardent prayers for our preservation and prosperity. But I earnestly desire, that you and I may be more than ever affected with a sense of what human life and nature are in truth; and that we may preach, in all their purity and power, the doctrines of a full, free, and eternal salvation. Farewell. Your affectionate Brother, WILLIAM. P.S.-The Lord has heard and answered prayer; the wind being much more moderate, and veering for a more northerly point, promises a suspension of the terrible south-west gales. It is comparatively fine now. The above is the last letter that my Brother wrote, previously to his arrival at Gibraltar, which, in consequence of the extreme tempestuousness of his voyage, was delayed much beyond the usual time. As will easily be supposed, this was a circumstance which filled our minds with much anxiety; however, we knew that he was in the best hands, and employed in the best manner; and therefore, in the long absence of all information respecting him, our minds were not altogether forsaken by a cheering hope. CHAPTER IX. Missionary Journal-Reflections on Sight of Land-Gracious Answer to Prayer-Providential Deliverance-Arrival at Gibraltar-Particular Description of his tedious Voyage-Remarkable Answers to Prayer, THE following are Extracts from my dear Brother's Journal, written while on his voyage. Wednesday, Dec. 15, 1824.-There is, in me, considerable reluctance to commence writing any thing in the form of a Journal. By this circumstance, as well as by weather of the most untoward kind, I have been deterred, ever since I came on board, from attempting it; but I am not sure, that these are sufficient reasons for the omission, especially as there are now the strongest motives for a due attendance to the practice. I have, indeed, no ambition to live upon the page of record when my life is extinct, unless my name could be unavoidably connected with the excellence of true piety and usefulness; and I have no desire to furnish materials from my pen, for those attempts to perpetuate a memory, too little distinguished by either the one or the other, for which the partiality of surviving friends might plead. But now, to keep a Journal is my duty; it is one condition of my union with the Society, of which I am now the authorised and honoured servant; and it has been made the subject of distinct and solemn promise. Besides, the influence of surrounding circumstances upon my mind is sensibly important; and I think with regret, that, unless I speedily redeem myself from my great aversion to record the emotions and incidents of this period of my life, no memorials will be left for my own re-perusal ; and all the benefits of refreshed recollection, aided by the graces of gratitude and humiliation, will be lost, even if rendered desirable by prolonged life. I am resolved, therefore, to commence at once, and, by the powerful grace of God, to chase away from my feelings every influence, but that of simple and resolute regard to unvarnished truth. Oh, Lord, my God! who hast brought me, through many chastening sorrows, to my present momentous and arduous, but desired, sta tion; vouchsafe, I beseech thee, to screen me from the intrusions of any spirit, which would either beguile me from simplicity, bewilder me in error, or disarm me by indolence. Oh! grant me thy Holy Spirit, I entreat thee; so that, filled with His unction, my soul may always glow with love to the Lord Jesus Christ; and thus, rejoicing in the clearly attested possession of my own salvation, my whole heart may dissolve into compassion for my ruined fellow-men, and flow out in streams of active and perpetuated usefulness in those neighbourhoods, where souls are perishing in drought. Solitary as I feel, and disrupted, by an almost volcanic force, from the fondest and dearest society, which earth could supply me; may I concentre my affections in full upon Thyself, and may I find Thee as ready, as Thou art able, to supply the place of any of the creatures, or of all. 'Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth, that I desire beside Thee!' O Lord God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is Head of Thy Church, and my real King and Saviour, I beseech Thee to hear and to answer this prayer, presented and urged, as it is, in dependence upon His meritorious passion and all-prevalent intercession at thy right hand! Amen. Amen. I am concluding the nineteenth day since my embarkation; the nineteenth day, too, of my trying imprisonment and vexation, if that last word be not too strong for any sensations, which I have had, from the constancy of hostile winds, and the general prevalence of foul weather. I have besought the Lord much for his gracious interference for us; and the process of my own feelings, amidst these difficulties and disagreeables, has been very instructive and profitable. I dare not conceive a wish that our voyage, thus far, had been less difficult. GIBRALTAR MISSION-HOUSE. Wednesday, Jan. 5, 1825. It seems to me, that I never can forget the sensations, with which I first looked around me this morning on coming on deck. For about the last ten days, we have had unremitted easterly winds, which very remarkably set in just as we had weathered Cape St. Vincent's, as if Providence had intended to render the voyage throughout a school of trial and discipline. All this time we were, of course, within about 150 miles of the spot, for which I had been so long and so anxiously wishing, though utterly unable to reach it. During this interval, we saw much of the coast on both sides of the Gut, as Cape St. Mary's and round to Cadiz; and, as the wind abated, and by dint of perseverance, we got nearer, we very plainly saw the African coast, a long way to the South of Cape Espartel. It was now, indeed, an interesting engagement to behold the land; to me there was something almost strange in the land's bounding the sea, which for weeks I had been accustomed to look at bounded only by the sky. And then again, it was the coast of Africa literally rising in distinct view to |