learn to live constantly dependent on the wisdom, the grace, and the power of our Heavenly Father. 11. Faith is the foundation of the things which are hoped for, and a conviction of those which are not seen;" wherefore endeavour to gain true faith, and thou wilt be able to look at temporal things with the indifference which they deserve, and thou wilt live as if thou wert a citizen of Heaven. But thou must know, that, "without faith all thy works are as dead;" because our religion does not consist in being merely a business of the lips, or of the knee, but of the heart, inflamed with the love of God, and convinced of the faith by means of the understanding. By this thou wilt perceive, that "the kingdom of God consists in righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." Never, never cease to implore this influence, and to thee shall be fulfilled what our Divine Saviour has said,—“ Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you" and he has equally assured us, that," Every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and to him that knocketh, it shall be opened." 12. Endeavour, as thou growest up, to be a wise Christian; and, for this purpose, devote thyself to moral philosophy; and let the Bible be thy companion, for it will make thee wise in the science of salvation. As to this worldly wisdom, and the science of the world, it is not essential to 'those, who, with humility and diligence, seek the other. But remember, that by this, I do not mean to say to thee, abandon the instruction which thou oughtest to appropriate to thyself, in the class and rank which thou occupiest in society; rather thou must endeavour to learn whatever becomes thee, for fulfilling the obligations of thy situation, and for knowing how to gain a livelihood. To close: "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with thee. Amen." 6 This, my beloved Son, is what appears to me my duty to say to thee; and though thou art not yet old enough to comprehend it well, yet, growing up, thou wilt know its importance; and thy fulfilling it will be the greatest satisfaction that, as thy Father, I can have. To my wife, thy tender Mother, say, that I wish her to be conformed to the will of God; and that, though I am far from you, I have you always present, and feel more painfully your sufferings than my own banishment. Obey her as a good son, console her in her afflictions, and never abandon her: as thy Father, who with his bowels loves thee, I charge this upon thee, as well as implore it of thee, by the glory of my own Father and Mother, and by the love of God. Adieu, my beloved Son! Adieu, thou joy of my eyes, and consolation of my heart! Give a thousand embraces to thy Mother for me. Adieu, till we meet by the will of God! Or, if we never meet again, let His holy and divine will be done in me! I remain, thy DEATH OF MRS. DIXON. 413 Father, longing to see you, and to embrace you both, thee and my wife, thy Mother, if God permit.' But you see, This, however, one day see in I I regret, dear Sirs, that I am not able to detail, in this sheet, the conversation to which the above letter gave rise, nor the note accompanying it to my friend's estimable wife, nor the letter which I have lately received from him, from the Havannah. that the Spanish work here is not altogether in vain. is not the only individual whom, I trust, you will glory, as the fruit of our feeble, and almost unknown, little work. hope for better days. Last ordinance we had thirteen communicants. The congregations are a little improving. I trust, that we shall recover from the severe blow, which we had some months since, and which has cost me much feeling. But I am now waiting the decision of Conference respecting me, and am ready for removal, if to God and you it shall seem best. Meantime, I am fairly happy, and the people of my temporary charge give me every proof of affection that I can wish. Good old Mr. Davis labours heartily and well, and is made a blessing to the pious; what greater favour can any man have of heaven? Your affectionate Servant, WILLIAM BARBER. The following letter was written to the Rev. James Dixon, in consequence of the recent decease of his excellent wife. Gibraltar, Aug. 16, 1828. MY VERY DEAR FRIEND, I HAD, several times, almost determined not to write a word to you just now, but to leave your knowledge of me to intimate, how sincerely I must sympathise with you, and how anxiously I must wish for you the help of the Almighty, both in consolation and direction. It would, perhaps, be quite difficult, if not impossible, to say exactly why I now do otherwise; for what can I say to purpose? The moment is now gone by, and to enlarge at the present time may be worse than useless; and, after all, what can be effected by sympathy, as the ordinary condolence of friends is called? Surely, it cannot be in the topics which they suggest, nor in the new direction given to thought by those topics, a thousand times repeated, and a thousand times felt to be too feeble for the occasion, that the secret is supposed to lie, by which the stormy feelings of affection, or grief when tempestuously agitated by a gust of the wind of adversity, may be laid to slumber in the peaceful and well regulated heart, in which they . are found for a while vexed and vexing the very soul. No; I rather incline to think, that every man feels, as it were, instinctively, that if a friend have lost, by the irreversible decree of death, one dear to him, it will not do to lose another, by the reversible predominancy of sorrow. And, therefore, each sets about giving the best appearance possible to the wish, that his friend may remember the claims of society upon him; but, at the same time, without allowing this to be the ostensible reason. The claims of society!-Ah! how impotent is such a plea as this to a mind, under the recent pressure of distress, and inclined to indulge its sorrow! If the mind be weak and enervated, it will, indeed, prove an impotent plea; but if not, then it will be the staff, on which principle will lay its strong and venturous grasp, in order to rise above the load, under which it had sunk. The claims of society!-Yes; they are inalienable, and bound up with our duty to God, the salvation of souls, the glory of Christ, and the welfare of our dear children, now far more endeared than ever. I should think, that a living child, whose one Parent God has seen best to remove, must be to the remaining Parent far dearer than before. And how many persons have the strong affections of the heart, gathering round such defenceless and dependent beings, roused by an influence and a strength, that seemed supernatural, to heave off their load of unmanageable sorrow! an effect, this, which would have been impossible from any other motives. I cannot easily tell you, my dear Mr. D., what I have felt from the reflection, that the manner in which I bore that tremendous shock, amidst the most tremendous heavings of which you were by my side, has for ever deprived me of the fair opportunity, which I had of honouring the Saviour's grace, by triumphing, through principle, over the tumults of passion. Nor can I enough regret the power over me, which one ever-recurring thought had to prevent my rising. When it was suggested to me, that the consolations of God might enable me to surmount all my distresses;' my inward answer was, 'I do not feel them, and I scorn to pretend to them ;'—as if those consolations could be obtained without effort; or, as if God, though infinitely loving to us, could consistently comfort and console us, against our own severe and sturdy refusal of Him as a Comforter. But I scarcely either know what I am writing, or consider to whom, or remember my ignorance of what, in fact, may be the state of his mind. I will, nevertheless, let this go. You know me. You are acquainted with my heart, my soul, and my way of thinking, if any way I have. And you know, that the deep and continued anxiety of my heart for you is, that you may now be preserved, comforted, directed, and made happy, by seeing your precious babes placed in ADMISSION INTO FULL CONNEXION. 415 the way to follow to Heaven yourself, and their estimable and glorified Mother. Wherever you are, or under whatever circumstances you may be placed, both you and those babes will be inexpressibly dear to Your truly affectionate, WILLIAM BARBER. P. S.-I mentioned the intelligence of your loss to the Congregation here; it excited considerable feeling, for you are greatly loved among the people, and many hearty prayers have been offered to God in your behalf. CHAPTER XV. Admission into full Connexion by the Conference-Commencement and Awful Ravages of the Yellow-Fever, at Gibraltar-Final Letters-Accepts the Office of Acting Chaplain to the Forces-Numerous Calls to visit the Sick, and bury the Dead-Death and Character. AT the London Conference, which, just about this time, was brought to a conclusion, my dear Brother's testimonials of established health, and general fitness for the work of the Ministry, were examined and unanimously approved; it was, consequently, agreed, that he should be forthwith received into full connexion with the Preachers; and, of course, permission was given him to prosecute his intentions with respect to marriage, as soon as he pleased. But, alas! the thoughts of God are not as our thoughts, neither are His ways as our ways!' Before the decision of the Conference could possibly reach him, the calamity had occurred to the town and garrison of Gibraltar, which eventually terminated his valued life. I greatly lament, that the anticipations which, from certain passages of his subsequent letters, we had encouraged, respecting a full account of the rise and progress of this awful pestilence, have not been realised. The only documents on the subject, which I can find among his papers, shall now be submitted to the public. To the Committee of the Wesleyan Missionary Society. REV. AND DEAR SIRS, I CANNOT neglect the opportunity, offered by the packet. of writing to you, interested as you must be in our present situation. The newspapers will, no doubt, have informed you that the yellow-fever, so fatal here in 1804 and 1813, has again made its appearance; and, in spite of the most vigorous measures to prevent it, has prevailed to a very painful extent. It is probable that report has exaggerated the truth; I shall, therefore, confine myself to a simple statement of facts, for which, indeed, I am in some measure qualified, by the friendship of Dr. Hennen, the Head Physician of the Garrison; and by the frequency of my visits to his office, for the purpose of rendering myself useful, if possible, combined with my activity, at present, in a somewhat official capacity, in the place of the Garrison Chaplain, who is ill of the disorder. It was in the end of the month of August, that alarm was first excited, by the successive illness of several of the members of a very respectable family, in the habit of attending at our Chapel. The servant of that family sickened, and, at length, after removal from the house to another situation at no great distance, she died. The disease was taken, before this event, by two individuals; the one a Mrs. Silcox, who unfortunately concealed her illness, till it was too late to remedy it; the other a Mrs. Smith, who, after a very severe illness, was kindly, in the mercy of God, restored to her husband and numerous family. The police and medical regulations of this place are always put especially on the alert in autumn; and these cases, as they were immediately known, became instantaneously the impulse of increased precaution and daily examination. A very few days, however, decided all doubt in the most competent quarters; for new cases of disease occurring, it became clear, that we should have to see the progress, and to contend with the miseries, of a very decided and malignant epidemic fever, to which the Medical Gentlemen gave the appellation of autumnal bilious remittent ;' I suppose, because the popular term, yellow-fever,' is either not scientific, or of very alarming sound : but of the nature of the disease there exists, I believe, in no quarter capable of forming a just estimate, the shadow of a doubt. There is also another very important point connected with this disease, which seems equally to have fixed all the Medical Gentlemen in one uniform opinion, with reference to its origin. Many have mains. tained that yellow-fever is not a native of the place, but always imported when found at all. I suppose the history of the fever this year will leave no more doubt remaining; it is most plainly and cer |