The Voyage

The partings were mostly over beforehand, and the tranquillity and content of its autumn were filling the air of England on the day when the pilgrims left it. And the peace of God was keeping their minds. Mr Ritchie, the early and ardent promoter of the mission, and a few other friends, accompanied them to the ship, and, from the cheerfulness of the voyagers, augured the best for the success of their expedition. They considered their preparations complete, and with hearts strong and hopeful, they bore away down the Mersey.*

* From Mr Ritchie’s communication, already mentioned, we may give the following particulars of the last hour at Liverpool. Captain Gardiner had not yet reached the vessel, which was already warping out of dock:” I endeavoured, however, to improve the precious moments by carrying on a conversation from the wharf with our friends on the poop-deck, who were dressed in their sea-going garbs, and protected from a hot September sun by broad-brimmed ’ sombreros.’ They seemed full of hope, and animated by a high and holy zeal for the great cause on which they were about to proceed; and, judging from their healthful animated looks, they were as well adapted as any men ever

During the voyage, as well as afterwards in the place of his destination, Mr Williams kept a copious journal. This companion of his wanderings, and confidant of all his musings, has survived many perils, and been sent home to its author’s family. From its daily records we gather the following account of the voyage: —

“Saturday, September 7, 1850. — Came on board the Ocean Queen at eleven A.M. At noon hauled out of the Brunswick Dock Basin, and taken in tow by steam-tug.

“Fairly on board and standing out for the wide ocean, how varied were the emotions felt! But the one above all others was a sense of joy at the cerwere for the fatigues and privations which stared them in the face.” “When Captain Gardiner arrived, I particularly remember asking him, with that frankness which became our intimacy, for how long a period he considered the provisions he was taking would serve the party; to which he replied, ‘About six months after arrival, even allowing we catch no fish nor kill any game.’ I expressed my regret that he had not taken a twelvemonth’s provision at once, especially when he was aware of the difficulty, if not impracticability, of hereafter landing any at the mission, — owners not wishing to allow their vessels to deflect from their course, to touch at so dangerous a coast as Tierra del Fuego. On this he gave me explanations, — based on the state of the funds of the Mission, the certainty of damage by wet and damp, and the exposure to robbery by the natives, — which, no doubt, were perfectly satisfactory to himself, and must also have been so to me, for I thought little further on the subject. Shortly afterwards, about noon, the Ocean Queen was warped through the gates, and, following her tug-steamer, swam nobly down the vassal river, amid cheers from, the pier-head, much augmented by the numerous friends of the San Francisco emigrants, and the response from on board, until at length she was lost in the haze.”

tainty of now being actually engaged in the great work of making known the Saviour of the world, and that, too, to a poor benighted people — a race of savages.

“Now for the first time I saw those who were to be my companions in the work of faith. These I found (besides Captain Gardiner) consisted of my fellow catechist Mr Maidment, Joseph Erwin, ship-carpenter, and our three boatmen from Mousehole, near Penzance, — John Badcock, John Bryant, John Pearce.

“The vessel is bound for San Francisco, California, being 568 tons burden, commanded by Captain H. S. Cooper, and carrying, besides our own party, a lady and gentleman from Liverpool, with their children and two servants, and four German Jews.

“Sunday, September 8. — Captain Gardiner conducted services in the cabin, morning and night; but I could not venture to be present, — as yet unable to bear the motion below.

“I have much enjoyed the day, and felt much of the goodness of God whilst pondering on my situation. However, I can scarcely realise the actuality of my position and this novel change so suddenly brought about. — My poor dear friends!

“Thursday, September 12. — I have now had time to see something of my associates. The more I see of Captain Allen Gardiner, the more I admire his character. Day by day he opens up before me in some new and pleasing light. I am sure he will gain not only on my esteem, but also on my affections. Every morning he reads a chapter and expounds it, and then prays. In the evening I or my fellow-catechist read the Scriptures and pray. I am greatly pleased and derive much edification from the enlightened and truly spiritual character of the Captain’s observations on the Scriptures, and the unction which accompanies his prayers.

“One of our boatmen, John Pearce, is ill with continued fever, contracted before he left home, where fever was prevailing. He felt indisposed for a day or two before he came on board. May God preserve him to us, and enable me to act judiciously in the treatment of his case!

“Tuesday, September 17. — Lat. 39° 52’, long. 18° 8’. Wind directly aft; sea very smooth; weather exceedingly fair and quite warm, so that we need only light clothing. The nights, too, are very beautiful. As things now are, a sea life is really very delightful. We expect to be off Madeira in a day or two, and have already a foretaste of its balm-breathing atmosphere and sunny clime.

“Our boatman, John Pearce, is happily much better; and now, thank God, there is every hope of his speedy recovery. And what is very pleasing, there is no appearance of the fever spreading to any others on board.

“We have been now ten days at sea. I begin to realise the fact without so much maziness and wonder as I felt at first. The change from my accustomed avocations to a voyage for a distant land was so abrupt and sudden, that it was impossible not to feel occasionally startled at the newness of my position. Being unable, owing to the shortness of time, to dispose of my practice, I was engaged up to the day of my leaving Burslem, with out having so much as the opportunity of visiting absent friends, from whom I had already been separated for years past.

“When I reflect on the circumstances with which I had to contend in entering on this engagement, I feel how great a cause I have for thankfulness to the grace of God which has sustained me, and enabled me to keep faithful to my purpose. Scarcely four months elapsed between my first hearing of the Patagonian Missions and my embarkation. Settled in practice upwards of five years, with a large connexion, many friends, and some strong ties, to dissever myself from long-formed associations, and to settle all my affairs in so short a time, presented difficulties that at times seemed insuperable. However, from the moment of pledging myself to the work, I had a firm confidence that I should be able to overcome every obstacle. But when the time of my departure drew near, and when, after every effort, my affairs were as far from settlement as ever, a fear for the first time crossed my mind as to whether it was really God’s will that I should go. One morning, I awoke with a feeling of sadness, which deepened upon me. And yet I saw that I could never again be happy if anything prevented my going. I saw that I could never be the same man, nor look forward to a career of usefulness equal to the past, trifling as that had been. This state of mind continued till the evening of the second day, when suddenly light shone in upon my mind, and comfort and consolation filled my heart. I saw that I had been suffering from the tempter, but now God had restored his energizing grace and strength, and I resolved that nothing short of illness or death should prevent my going forth in his name. My friends, who had greatly rejoiced at the momentary hope of my not leaving them, had now the sad disappointment of seeing me more firm in my purpose than ever. I felt for thee, my poor dear Annie, when I was necessitated to check again all thy rising hopes that thy brother would not leave thee. The flush of exultation was on thy cheek, the triumph of thy heart sparkled in thy eye, when I was obliged again to tell thee, ‘It cannot be. No: I must go. It is the will of God. Annie, I must go.’ May God comfort the kindest and most tender-hearted of sisters that ever brother was blessed with! God comfort and sustain thee, Annie!

“I shall not readily forget the evening of my leaving Burslem. Though sad to part with so many dear old friends, yet to see such an assemblage of Christian brethren, each with a tear in his eye and a prayer on his lips, to wish me God speed, was sweetly touching to my heart. I do not forget you, my beloved friends. How happy is the thought that on so many praying lips my name will often find a place when the Holy One of Israel is sought in fervent devotion!

“Wednesday, Sept. 18. — Everything is so agreeable, that at present our voyage is like a pleasure trip. On deck, where we remain for the most part of the day, enjoying the warm sunshine and the fresh balmy breeze, with a clear sky and the deep blue waters, with the ship steadily stealing away, and all clean and orderly around us, cheerful countenances and pleasing associates, — there seems scarce any thing awanting to contribute to our enjoyment. I have felt real happiness this day. Nothing has occurred that could make it otherwise. There has been communion betwixt my soul and God the whole day long. I have had the Scriptures in my hand, reading and meditating the greater part of the day; and the “Word has been applied by the Spirit of Truth with refreshing power to my soul. I have been drinking of the river whose waters make glad the city of the living God. Now thrown entirely on the Lord, in body, soul, and spirit given up to God, seeking to draw nigher and closer unto Him whom I love and in whom I am chosen, aspiring after more of the precious influences of the Spirit of grace and love, desiring to be perfected in the knowledge and love of Christ, I have this day felt that God is willing to give me far more abundantly than all I can ask or think. His banner has been spread over me, and the presence of Christ fills my heart with joys that are unutterable.

“This evening I commenced a class meeting, Erwin and the boatmen joining me. The Lord was graciously present to bless. I was much pleased with the simplicity and earnestness of their experience. Poor Erwin, who has not yet found Christ as his Saviour, was much affected, and, I believe, is not very far from the kingdom of God. May the Lord help him speedily to step in into the glorious liberty of the sons of God!

“Thursday, Sept. 19. — I am deriving much good from witnessing the Christian character exemplified so strikingly in the person of our beloved Captain [Gardiner]. Truly he is a man of God. There is a devotedness to God manifested by him delightful to witness; — a fervid piety, with great simplicity of deportment, a high tone of exalted greatness of soul, with the absence of all pride or self-elevation. His mind is evidently deeply imbued with the Word of Life. I sink utterly into nothingness by comparison with him. I esteem it a great privilege to have such a living example set before me. Hitherto I have had to struggle on unaided by man in my efforts to gain the mastery over an evil heart of unbelief. Now I feel I shall derive great help and encouragement from seeing one far advanced in the way of holiness exemplifying the graces of the Christian character. He has made me a present of two works written by him — Travels in Africa, and A Voice from South America.

“Saturday, Sept. 21. — Had our last view of Madeira at noon, distant from us about fifty miles. A lovely day, — the thermometer in the cabin ranging above summer heat, — in the sun very hot. To day I had occasion to go to the forecastle to attend on two of the sailors who were confined by sickness. This gave me an opportunity of talking to the men, and I had a long conversation with them, and endeavoured to impress their minds, by God’s help, with thoughts concerning their own salvation. They listened respectfully. Since coming on board, I have been much affected by feeling myself palpably surrounded with wickedness on all hands. Happily the position is quite novel; for, although I have been ever moving among the worldly and the profane, yet I have been able to retire from amongst them into the seclusion of my own or some other quiet home. But now the harsh sound of vice reaches my ear all the day long, and I feel I am indeed a stranger and a pilgrim here. I bless the Lord that I look not for an abiding place, a continuing city amongst men, but that I am travelling with a consciousness of its being the wilderness, and looking forward to the rest which God hath prepared for his people. ‘Twere a sin against God to expect or seek a rest here in this world. Here we must labor and lay up our treasure with God. Here we must toil and patiently endure the burden and heat of the day. Here we must wage our warfare, and fight the good fight of faith, * Behold, God will come with a recompence.’ I will look forward and hasten unto the day of his appearing. I bless and praise God that I feel the Lord most graciously helping me, strengthening me, enlarging my faith, inspiring me with hope and confidence, and giving me sensibly to feel the tokens of his love. The sunshine of God is in my heart, — it feels the love of Christ.

“I do desire to glorify God. I long to love God with my whole soul. I seek and earnestly desire to have my every thought directed to the Lord. I truly wish for nothing the whole earth contains. I ask for nothing but grace to love God with all my heart, and mind, and soul, and strength, and, accepted of him, to be laid out and be spent in his ser vice, to his honor and glory. With the world I have done, — with all its interests and pursuits, as far as feeling more attachment to them than as things with which, whilst it pleases God, I am for a moment connected. But my treasure and my heart are both in heaven. Grant, 0 Lord, that I may truly love thee! Cold is my heart toward thee; O give me thy love! Lord Jesus, hear and answer this my prayer!

“Ah, my dear, — my beloved friends, how many have been your anxious thoughts ere this! 0 may the Almighty God who blesses me with his peace, and gives me to taste the sweet consolations of Christ, bless you also, and keep your hearts from all doubts and tormenting fears! I am safe from all harm and secure from all evil in his hands. I wish I just could tell each one of you so. God bless you all. — The moment for our meeting together in prayer has just arrived.

“Monday, September 23. — Yesterday — the Sabbath, we had a very delightful day. In the morning Captain Gardiner conducted the service, and read a sermon; in the evening, Mr Maidment. These services were held in the cabin, and there was a large muster of the ship’s company present, and a precious opportunity was afforded for sowing the seed of life. But I fear the opportunity was somewhat lost, for the reason that the discourses were not suitable and adapted to the minds of these poor ignorant men. I felt this at the time, and determined to prepare a sermon for the next Sabbath evening, in dependence on Divine help.

“This evening I went forward to the forecastle in company with Mr Maidment. We found most of the sailors present, nothing being doing on deck, as there was a perfect calm. They had just concluded a very jovial song with a boisterous chorus; and a party of them were engaged with cards. I treated them as gently as possible, and as I have had an interview with many of them individually before, I managed to work my way pretty smoothly. The card-players, however, were very intent on their game, and tried to evade our notice. At length I asked them if they would allow me to pray with them, to which they consented. I had great liberty and access to God, and the men after wards thanked me, and seemed to think I had done them a kindness. May the Lord bless the effort, made in his name, to their good!

“Wednesday, October 2. — Lat. 13° 577, long. 26° 35’. Light winds, and very hot. All the Jews ill with fever. Mrs T likewise ill. Extracted a tooth for Captain C. Now that there is absolute need of my aid, I feel a high degree of gratification that I am able to afford assistance, and feel the value of my profession more, I think, than I ever did. What a pleasure to practise medicine irrespective of pecuniary considerations! How much more pleasurable to do good for its own sake, and to relieve the sufferings of our fellow-creatures, and to have our reward in the pleasure of doing so, than to connect therewith the gain of money! Would circumstances have allowed it, I should willingly have practised without making any charge. How often did I regret that I had an expensive establishment to keep up, and wished it was but a cottage, and that I might practise as a poor man amongst the poor! I never desired to increase my connexion amongst the more respectable; for so much unnecessary formality was required by them, and with them I had not the same privilege of addressing them in the language of affectionate concern, or of offering spiritual advice to their souls. The poor have generally some consciousness of their spiritual as well as temporal destitution, and they are more frequently accessible to a kindly intended act of Christian philanthropy. But the rich and the respectable feel that their worldly position entitles them to consideration, and they expect that deference should be paid as well to their opinions as to their rank; hence, they are offended by any display of a disposition to teach and instruct them. ‘Thou wast altogether born in sin,’ is their language, ’ and dost thou teach us? ‘In the happy change noAV presented to me in prospect, may God grant that I may live unweariedly employed in doing good, and enjoy the sweet charm of a life spent in beneficence to others, and those others a race of beings who have scarcely ever felt the flowings of human kindness toward them! 0 Jesus, blessed Saviour, let these poor heathen, to whom thou art sending us, taste of thy precious love, and know thee in the riches of thy infinite mercy! Darkest and most wretched of the human race, my precious Saviour, it will be a fit occasion to serve thee, in displaying thy goodness to ransom vile man in his utmost degradation, and thy willingness that not one should perish, but that all men should be saved. Lord Jesus, it is thy will these should behold a great light shining forth from thy presence in their darkness. 0 let thy Spirit of grace go in advance of us, and dispose their hearts to receive thy truth!

“Thursday, October 3. — Bless God! I feel the Lord is good and gracious to my soul. He is drawing me by the cords of his love. Jesus is be coming more and more precious; my heart feels more true interest and delight in him. I more clearly feel now, what, for a time, I failed to experience, that even when my heart would withdraw from the Lord, at a time when doubts and evil thoughts were suggested — that then, as at all other times, Jesus is waiting to hear our cry for help. When perplexed by a sense of the evil of my heart, struck with its hardness and insensibility, impressed with its base ingratitude and forgetfulness of God, and horrified with the vile thoughts injected into my mind, — how often have I kept my eye fixed on my condition, until I could scarce lift it up to God, and with a weak faith have hesitated to approach my beloved Lord! But now I happily know that, — feel what I may of the workings of evil within, however strong the evidence of my own baseness, — so far from keeping me from applying to Jesus, this is the greater reason for my instant looking up to him as ’ the Lord my righteousness.’ I bless God for a livelier trust in the atonement of the blood of Christ, and for a more assured trust in Jesus, as my ever-willing, ever-able, and ever-present Saviour. How does my heart cleave to thee, my Lord! Assuredly whilst I have hold upon thee, my ransom and plea, my surety and trust, my hope and my joy, my portion and my only love, all is, all will be well.

“Wednesday, October 23. — Crossed the line at about three A.M.

“Friday, 25. — Left off smoking and taking snuff. Gave my tobacco and meerschaum to Erwin, my canister of snuff to the captain.”

The foregoing extracts give a pleasing impression of the writer. They bring out his tender affection for his friends, the humanity and kindliness of his nature, and that delightful disposition which makes the most of the present and hopes the best for the future. They also evince his habitual watchfulness over himself, and his firm faith in a Divine sanctifying agency; and they glow with that adoring affection to the Saviour which is the surest sign of piety, and the richest source of personal excellence. We think they can scarcely fail to edify the reader and endear the writer.

But amidst these records of Christian experience, some may regard the homely details of the follow ing passage as a dreadful descent. We have no such feeling. It is in such contests that the reality of men’s faith and the value of their “frames” are tested. And the Christianity, however rapturous, which has never renounced a besetting sin, nor conquered a bad habit, is too like the patriotism which is confined to toasts and national melodies, or the filial piety which, offering fond words and embraces in lieu of solid services, tries to be at once dutiful and self-indulgent. Mr Williams was honest. He believed that it was God’s will that he should give up a certain gratification; and, though some would have tried to evade the sacrifice, though they would have offered confessions of their own weakness or high-flown protestations of their general devotedness, in lieu of this particular obedience, it was not thus deceitfully that he dealt with his Heavenly Father and with himself.

Nor should we be sorry if Mr Williams’s example should find imitators amongst our readers. It is true that Dr Parr and Robert Hall were smokers, It is true that many good men are fond of the “naughty foreign weed,” and that Ralph Erskine “spiritualised” it. And it may be true that under its influence the spirits are serene, the temper mild, and the entire man in a state of comfortable self-complacency. But we prefer the temper which is independent of tobacco; and we fear that in its self-complacency there is some thing illusive. At least we have known friends who, under its influence, fancied themselves far up Parnassus, but when the fog cleared away it proved only a spur of the mountain: and al- - though, among our college companions, we remember clever men who smoked, whilst their duller neighbours studied; and although, in the mist of the meerschaum, they used to espy gigantic figures, which they hailed as their own glorious future; now that the “morgana” has melted, there is a sad contrast betwixt the cloudy colossus and the slip-shod original from which it was projected, and into which the stern day-light has resolved it again.

At all events, a minister, and much more a missionary, should deem himself a soldier, and the less dependent he is on these time- wasting enjoyments, the more lightly will he march, and the more ready will he be for instant action. Besides, a soldier must endure hardness. It is good for a man’s Christianity to be the victor, even in such a contest as the battle with tobacco. Every success makes him a stronger and a happier man; — yes, and a great deal richer. In this warfare there is always prize-money. And if the reader is a lover of books, or if, with a most benevolent heart, he is always lamenting his empty hand, let him attack and spoil this enemy. The cigar-case will soon fill a handsome book-case; and were the snuff-box of the British churches converted into a box of charity, it would maintain all our missionaries, and would soon pay the debts of our chapels and schools.*

* For smoking, chewing, and snuffing, Great Britain pays a yearly of seven millions. Does she spend as much on books or benevolence?

“Saturday, Oct. 26. — S. lat. 6° 34’, long. 32° 14X. This has been a day ever to be remembered. The light of the Lord’s countenance has broken upon me, after having severely felt that clouds of darkness were around me. For more than a month before leaving England I had given up the practice of smoking and taking snuff. The former habit I had practised for seven or eight years; the latter only occasionally. In fact, it was in consequence of leaving off smoking that I had recourse to a pinch as an occasional substitute. At various times I have been under strong impressions that I ought to leave it off, and have felt dissatisfied with myself for the self-indulgence. But the cravings after it were become so strong, and the will of the flesh so urgently demanded it, that it was no easy task to overcome the propensity. There is a charm in tobacco powerfully beguiling to the senses. Whether this arises from its soothing and sedative quality, or from its being generally associated with self-indulgence — serving as a plea for idleness, and for a general relaxation of the whole man, body and mind — certain it is, that tobacco has a power of enslaving its votaries to a remarkable degree. No one has ever been more enslaved than I have been; yet many times has my conscience smitten me, and frequently whilst in the act of smoking I have been obliged to lay the pipe aside. At times I thought I would leave it off altogether. Accordingly, I have given away or burnt the stock of tobacco I had in hand, broken my pipes, and for days essayed to do without it. What cravings — what a sense of bereavement have I felt! None but an old smoker can have any idea of my miserable longings. I have envied the hodman and the meanest person with his short black pipe. The very perfume was a treat — to inhale it a respite. Vain were the efforts thus made. A toothache, some bodily disease, or the persuasion of others, induced a renewal of the habit, and its bond became stronger than ever. But the fiat had gone forth, ‘Crucify the flesh with its affections and lusts; ’ and, blessed be God, there was One in me greater than all that were against me. Conscience became more and more severe upon me. At length I resolved to leave it off, and happily succeeded without experiencing any uncomfortable effects. This was six weeks before leaving England. During that time I kept firm my resolution, though, in lieu of smoking, I had recourse to snuff. Some of my friends, who thought I was going to unnecessary lengths of self-denial, would put up for me, amongst the equipments for my voyage, both tobacco, cigars, and a canister of snuff, and they made me promise to purchase a meerschaum. “Well, I thought, circumstances may possibly be such as to render it desirable to have them; so I yielded to their wish. On board I could not resist the temptation of taking a cigar — such was my weakness; giving them freely away, and smoking them daily, my stock was soon exhausted; but all the cravings for tobacco were re-acquired. I took to the meerschaum, but with the indulgence came the condemnation. My conscience would not allow me to continue; so I gave the canister of snuff to the captain of the ship, and reserved only a small quantity. Captain Cooper likewise had my meerschaum, on condition of my not requiring it again. Three or four days passed without having recourse to him for it, but never did I suffer such craving after it. My stomach became affected, and my spirits so depressed, that I was compelled to ask for it again. “With a sense of great bodily relief and comfort, I smoked it; but, alas! my condemnation was great. Hurriedly opening a book in my hand, the question of the Psalmist was pre sented to my eye, ‘Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle? who shall dwell in thy

holy hill? He that sweareth to his own hurt and changeth not.’ These words were applied to my mind most forcibly. I was condemned. But now I saw my duty; and, suffer what I might, I resolved to give up the practice in all its forms. Having sought mercy and forgiveness with the Lord, and his grace to help me, I gave away, in good earnest, all my tobacco, my pipe, and my snuff-box, and I threw overboard the small quantity of snuff I had reserved. Thus a complete riddance was effected. “Friday, November 1. — This day has been a most happy one. Never, I think, did I enjoy sweeter peace, nor feel a love so ardent and personal towards God my Saviour. The years of my life have rolled before me, and the various epochs and characteristic phases thereof have presented themselves to me in a new and striking light. The way of God with me, and his gracious dealing, in leading me through all the stages of my career, have exhibited instances multiplied indeed of in finite goodness, mercy, and love. But as yesterday I was the companion of schoolboys, drinking deep of the spirit of wonder, and opening up new worlds at every turn of my path, counting on the future of this life as an indefinite period, and on the scenes of this world’s labors as an expanse with out limits. Then manhood arrived. Ambition led the way — a desire to live among the names that die not, and to devote my life to the pursuit of knowledge. The hand of necessity, as it then seemed, but truly the hand of God, urged me on from one point to another, and never at any period of my life have I taken up a position as the result of my own forethought and determination. Even when blinded through the ignorance that was in me, I was led by a way that I knew not. And now I behold myself in a new scene, and my heart rejoices to acknowledge the goodness and love of God in eventuating this. A beautiful thought filled my mind this afternoon, and swelled it to a rapture of joy. It was this: Come what will, — change and change as circumstances may, yea, p come death itself, that last great change — still consciousness will not be interrupted. That consciousness which identifies with the being that now thinks and feels, the being which years ago played in childish gambols, will bear onward a living remembrance of the past whilst it enters the scenes of eternity. What, then, is death? It has lost its sting. I feel no fear of it. I feel that nothing can hinder the enjoyment of existence, — the continuous consciousness and immortality of that within me, — the soul that has eternal life in Christ. How contented, therefore, am I with my state! and, by the grace of God, I trust to exult in tribulation, rejoicing in hope of the glory of God. It was with a joyful sense of this truth, and in the perception of God’s love in thus calling me to eternal life, that my soul became full of love to Jesus my Saviour. From the ground of my heart I praised him. Glory be to the Lamb of God for ever and ever! My soul rejoiced at the thought of an endless existence, be cause I could then everlastingly love my Saviour, and glorify God in him. Life everlasting was infinitely desirable and precious, for such a reason and upon such terms. 0 Lord Jesus! thou hast broken in upon my soul in the light of thy own revealing Spirit, shedding thy love abroad in my heart. My heart and soul cry out unto thee, and tell thee I love thee!”

From a letter written by Mr Williams to his friend Mr Jones, and dated November 5, 1850, we give a few extracts. It not only gives a resume of the voyage thus far, but it introduces us to the companions of our missionary: —

“Our voyage has hitherto been a very fair one: we have no rough weather. We were for a considerable length of time delayed by variable winds and calms as we approached the Line; but as far as weather is concerned, this has been our principal trouble. I felt the heat greatly. Our berths at night were more like ovens than anything else. We have had the fever prevailing greatly among us; three of our men — the boatmen — have had it, besides five or six others; and although I have had some ground for anxiety, yet, thank God, all have recovered remarkably. The Lord has been our keeper. He has stayed the pestilence. Unto him be the praise.

“We expect to make our destination in about three weeks. On getting there, our intention is, in the first place, by the help of the crew, to dig an entrenchment around the site of our future residence, and inside of this to raise up high walls all round. This on a small islet, just big enough for the purpose, situate betwixt Picton Island and Garden Island, close to them both. The vessel, which has been rather leaky, it is intended to over haul when we get to Picton Island; and it is probable that she will therefore stay with us a week, if not longer. As soon as she leaves, it is our intention to start also on a cruise of discovery, going for that purpose to the north-west, into Beagle Channel, and to the west of Navarin Island, and among other places to Woolya, the place where Jemmy Button, a Fuegian taken to England by Captain FitzRoy, was left on his return from England, after three years’ absence. If we can make him out, doubtless it may prove very advantageous to us. At all events, we mean to purchase,* if we can, two lads about ten or twelve years of age, and take them back with us, and from them acquire the language. Our cruise may perhaps last two or three months. This, however, is uncertain. We are well provided with boats, having two very large ones with us, besides two gigs to attend on their seniors. We are well supplied with provisions.

“Captain Gardiner is much what I expected him to be. For indomitable perseverance he is unquestionably to be ranked among men of the first class, and his life is that of an exact and strict disciplinarian. As a Christian, he is devout and unaffected, and most sincere. I am indeed far, far short of him. I am more conscious of my defects since I have been able to compare myself with him. I see that I am a mere vacillator and weak believer, in contrast with his stability and strict in-

* Of course Mr Williams only means that it was intended to borrow the children from their parents for a certain time, making the parents such a present as would secure their consent. A button was the consideration for which Jemmy’s parents made him over to Captain FitzRoy.

tegrity. I am greatly pleased with all my companions. Mr Maidment, my fellow-catechist, is an amiable, kind, and worthy man; and one becomes more attached to him, and respects him more, the more you know him. He is very sincere and humble, and I fully believe a child of God. Our three young men, having been much afflicted, have exhibited their different characters strikingly. Poor Bryan, who was worst, has shewn a very meek and patient disposition, full of resignation and a simple-hearted love to Christ. Badcock, who is the eldest and biggest of the three, is, I am persuaded, the subject of divine grace. He, too, is remarkably meek, but there is a somewhat timid or nervous cast of mind in him. John Pearce is a rough, just, honest, and upright man, but with a little touch of independence of spirit which, subdued by grace and properly directed, will rather prove an advantage. Erwin, our ship-carpenter, is the most dapper, sprightly, and excellent fellow I have met for a long time. He is a summary of good qualities, good sense, kind disposition, unassuming deportment, — and useful for all purposes; just the man we want to help and comfort us in all exigencies. Every one of them has had to encounter great objections and many persuasions not to go on such an enterprise. But God provides all. He is with us. How delightful is his service! How do I rejoice that it is my calling to declare Christ, to publish such glad tidings to a poor abject race!

Rejoice with me, brother Jones, whilst in the words of Mary I would say, ‘My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.’”

Returning to the Journal, under “Thursday, Nov. 28,” we find the following entry: —

“To-day, at about eight o’clock in the morning, we passed the Straits of Magellan; and, having had a splendid breeze all day, we are at this time — ten P.M. — considerably advanced toward the Strait of Le Maire, which we hope to pass through to-morrow. We are now happily bringing our voyage to a close. To-day the sun has shone very brilliantly, and this evening it has poured a brilliant flood of light around us. Its setting was as fine a scene as anything we have witnessed during our voyage, and has greatly cheered us, taking it as an earnest that we shall not be altogether wanting bright days and sunny visitations, and likewise deeming it in our fancies as a welcome paid us by Fuegia’s luminary.

“Friday, November 29. — To-day at half-past one A.M. we first had a sight of the mountains of Tierra del Fuego. At that time I heard the chief mate awake the Captain, and inform him of the fact. I was singularly impressed with the idea that we were in danger. The thought crossed my mind several times, but without affecting me with any anxiety, but inducing me to call upon the Lord with reliance and trust upon him. I had no ground whatever for the surmise at the time, hearing no intimation to that effect, and I was surprised when I afterwards learned from the second mate, that in consequence of the men not keeping a good look-out, we had well-nigh run ashore just at that time.

“At about half-past four, Captain Gardiner awoke me, and told me the land was well in sight. I arose and went on deck. There was Tierra del Fuego, sure enough; its snow-tipped mountains were looming through the vapors of the morning sky, and the land of Fuegia threw a faint cold smile upon us, and greeted us with a rough, but, doubtless, a hearty shake of the hand; for truly enough we shivered, if not at the sight of it, yet, with cold. At eight o’clock we were off the entrance of the Strait of Le Maire; but the wind being adverse, we could not take advantage of the tide which set at that hour. Consequently, we had to lie off, and beat between the two coasts of Staten Island and the mainland. We had thus abundant opportunity for seeing this remarkable land, particularly Staten Island, and likewise abundant experience of the extreme disagreeableness of our proximity to the Strait of Le Maire. The swell from the ocean here rising in opposition to the tide-race produces a scene altogether novel to us; the sea seems literally alive; its commotion is extreme. Abreast the land in particular, and extending two or three miles out, or more, there is the appearance of innumerable breakers, and the white spray dashes its waters about in the wildest manner. The wind blowing strong from the S.E., we rolled about, owing to it and the tide-race and swell combined, far more than we should have done in an ordinary gale. At three o’clock we hoped to have an opportunity again, it being ebb-tide, to pass through; but though we tried, it was impossible, the wind continuing unfavorable. We have thus during the day, it being now nearly eleven P.M., had ample experience of Fuegian weather. If we must take it for a sample, it is certainly none of the best; — sudden puffs of wind, with ominous gathering of dark clouds, and a chilly aspect of the whole heavens, with a conviction seizing your mind, that you are going to have a snow-storm, which apprehension is converted into the slighter infliction of a thin driving but sharp sleet, or, as I expect we may yet Und, into a thumping hail-storm; and then the mist on the mountains clears up, and exposes a few glimmering rays of the sun, burnishing their sides of snow.

“In excellent keeping with the rough and wintry climate is the aspect of the land. Words can never do justice to its frowning, wild, and wintry character. Staten Island must certainly be unequalled in this respect. It is a place of dreariness and of forlorn solitude, par excellence. Its bare, broken, jagged, turret-like hills, present the idea of an immense fortress, erected by nature herself on her own grand scale, and designed to imprison an unmolested solitude within its walls, and to frown back all attempts on the part of man to disturb her here. It is no wonder that it never has been inhabited. It seems from a distance as though it were clad in some hard and impenetrable covering, saving the snows on its ridges and slopes, of one uniform russet brown colour.

“I have not felt disturbed by any means. This I must attribute to the grace of God only, and to no resolution or constancy of my mind; for who can delight more than I in sunny scenes? But, praise God, I feel I can well forego all earthly joys, if the Lord will graciously vouchsafe to bless my soul, and endow me with the riches of his grace. I was greatly strengthened while in prayer this morning. At this the uttermost end of the earth, and where there is less in climate, land, or people, to cheer the mind, than at almost any other spot of the world, if God has a work for me to do, and his blessing rests upon me whilst engaged therein, then God’s holy will be done in me and by me, let the circumstances surrounding, or- the events awaiting me, be what they will. At the time of writing this it is blowing hard, and the thermometer in the cabin, shut up around me, stands at 52°. I am indeed glad to wrap up now.

“Saturday, November 30. — Our twelfth week at sea. At four o’clock this morning, our ship having worked about all night, with a strong head wind from the S.S.W., we were in the same position; and our bearings off Cape San Diego, at the entrance of the Strait of Le Maire, were much the same as they were yesterday morning at eight o’clock. Wind and tide against us had beaten us back from all attempts hitherto made to enter the Strait; but now, taking advantage of an ebb-tide and a strong wind, the Captain carried on a heavy canvas, and finally about mid-day we got through the Strait. It was a hard contest, and we did but just escape the lee-shore of Staten Island, as we weathered Cape St Bartholomew. All the day long we have continued to beat about under single-reefed topsails, having, especially during the night, very violent squalls and a tremendous sea, shipping heavy seas on our poop. What with the extreme gloom of the weather, snow, sleet, hail, and rain, and fogs, intermixed with a driving cold S.S.W. wind, blowing hard, with the dashing of the billows over us, and the rolling and pitching of the vessel, our position was by no means agreeable. Such was the pitching and constant motion of the vessel, that it induced a momentary attack of sea-sickness with me, whilst my poor friend Mr Maidment suffered very severely, as indeed he has done throughout the voyage whenever the weather has been rough.

“The following day, Sunday, was passed beating about, with much the same weather prevailing, the thermometer in the cabin standing most of the day at 42° and 44° Fahr.

“Surely Fuegia is the land of darkness, the country of gloom, a scene of wild desolation, both land and climate agreed as to character, the one frowning and desolate, the other black and tempestuous. A few, and only a few, cheering smiles has the sun beamed upon us, and the cold snows upon the rough masses of Staten Island put on an unnatural appearance, and looked more and more pale under the reviving influences of the light. If such the land, and such the climate, we have reason to expect the people will not fall short of congruity with either. Well, and how do I bear up under these not very flattering prospects? Have I had my expectations pointed to such an agreeable picture? What shall I say? I will own the truth. I have not been ignorant of the fact, that such was the character of the region to which I was bound. Captain FitzRoy, and especially Mr Darwin, in his ‘Journal,’ had made this sufficiently clear, yet I certainly had not in any degree realised it. How different is the acquaintance we get by reading, from that which we acquire by personal experience of things! In our parlours at home we do not shiver at the cold scenes we read of, but rather enjoy by contrast our present comforts. It is singular that amidst all the working of my mind in connexion with this great undertaking, I never contemplated it in the character of one of great suffering and great trial. I was not ignorant that such it would assuredly prove itself to be, but I troubled not myself with the thought of it. I have all along felt that it was required at my hand to make the sacrifice of everything to God; but I have had some such feeling as was suggested by Abraham to his son Isaac, when he was on his way to the altar, with the wood on his back whereon he should be offered, that though thus palpably going to the fiery ordeal, yet God would provide for himself a lamb for the sacrifice. The truth is, I could in anticipation cast all my care so entirely upon the Lord, that I took no other care but to ascertain that it was his will that I should thus serve him, assured that in the hour of my need he would strengthen my heart, and be with me to sustain me. Have I then been taken unawares? No. Have I been disappointed? No. The hour has come; and though I have never painted to my mind all that I should have to encounter, yet I am not any the less unprepared for the trial, because I have not to grapple with it in my own strength, nor to prepare myself for the encounter. I verified this yesterday (Sunday) morning in a remarkable manner, whilst engaged in reading the 12th of Romans. God’s Holy Spirit engaged my soul in fervent prayer for grace to help me. I was led to offer up my body as a living sacrifice unto God, and with my whole heart consenting, with my entire will prostrate and subjected to the will of God, that I might prove what is His good, and acceptable, and perfect will. I surrendered myself into the hand of the Lord Jesus, with so complete a trust in him, and love to him, as it was indeed delightful to feel; and how shall I praise the mercy and grace, and condescending goodness of God! I felt a sensible manifestation of God to my soul, accepting my offer. My heart was broken by a sense of God’s love, that streamed in upon it, and my tears and upheaving breast alone could speak my gratitude and praise. Praise, praise to the Lord!

“To-day, Monday, December 2, after a some what more favorable night, though making but little headway, at eleven o’clock we were off Cape Hall, Cape Good Success bearing north (true), and we now expect to weather Cape Pio, and this after noon make Picton Island.

“Tuesday, December 3. — Made little advance upon yesterday, the wind being right ahead.

“Wednesday, December 4. — Since Monday, we have been making laborious efforts to weather Cape Pio, in Slogget Bay, but until this evening we have been unsuccessful, the wind blowing right ahead, and wearing ship and tacking about being both in vain. This evening we have, however, succeeded, and but for hazy weather we might soon have our anchor down. Each day has been cold and squally, with hail and sleet and rain; the sun has only occasionally been visible: at sunset he has been most conspicuous, and last evening it was as splendid and brilliant a sight as any we have witnessed during the voyage. The land along the shore has still the same general characteristics, bold and mountainous, dark and frowning. The men have been sadly harassed at their duties ever since we hove in sight of this land of storms. Exposed to drifting snow squalls, and huge seas like cascades pouring their volumes of water upon them, their plight has been really pitiable, and they, as well as every one else, have been anxiously expecting to get to Banner Cove. But if all the rest have felt the disappointment, I have reason to bless God. Yesterday and to-day, but more especially to-day, have been the brightest for spiritual enlargement and joy in God of any I have known since I have been on board. Graciously, indeed, has the Lord blessed me, taking away every doubt, removing every fear, confirming my hopes, and strengthening my heart. By his grace I have been able cheerfully and willingly to subject myself into an entire obedience, and to yield myself up to him, for him to do with me whatsoever it pleaseth him. I have seen clearly that all has been ordered of God, and that he will abundantly crown the work with success. Plainly have I seen that he who said, ‘And this gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in all the world, for a witness to all nations, and then shall the end come,’ hath required it at our hands, to plant his gospel in this the uttermost end of the world. And, blessed be God, I have experienced sensibly this day that I am a son of God — the Holy Ghost witnessing and shedding abroad the love of God in my heart. Sweetly have I realised that I am one with Christ, and have the Spirit which raised up Christ from the dead. Now do I feel how merciful the Lord is, and how tender is his compassion; and now am I able, in some poor degree, to comprehend with all saints, what is the love of Christ, which passeth all know ledge. Now do I feel that the Lord has blessed me, and prepared me for his work, giving me the whole armour of God. Now I can rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory. Now can I say that the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keeps my heart and mind; and that

“Not a cloud doth arise
To darken my eyes.

“Thursday, December 5. — At eleven o’clock this morning, we cast anchor in Banner Roads, having by the mercy of God arrived safe at our destination. The whole of last night was foggy, with a heavy drizzling rain, and the wind still ahead. The Captain made short tacks, and with scarce any possibility of telling whether we made any progress, or how we were moving. When about four o’clock it became clear enough to see, our position was happily and providentially found to be greatly in advance of our expectations, with every certainty of continuing to make way to our anchorage ground.

About nine, whilst drifting on past Picton Island, we observed lying off Garden Island three canoes, which presently put off to us, each one containing a Fuegian and his family, more or less numerous. In each there were two women and children, in one an infant at the breast, in another a poor decrepit old man. Whilst scarcely discernible with the naked eye, we heard their stentorian voices, shouting ‘Yammer schooner ’ [Give me]: — amazing indeed is the power of their voice. As they severally hove in sight, they gesticulated and shouted with every wild and remarkable expression, one man in particular being very garrulous, and full of vivacity. The impression they made on my mind, as they became distinctly seen, first by the telescope and afterwards by the naked eye, is one which can never be effaced. It seemed incredible they could be human beings. You observed a lop-sided strange uncouth thing on the water, not to be called a boat, and not realising our ideas of a canoe, but so deep, that just the heads of the Fuegians could be seen in it. As these dark masses of hair, like so many mops, drew nearer, we were able to discern the features, which were, indeed, surprising to us. On a nearer inspection, however, I could trace in many of them, indeed I may say in all, the lineaments of the noblest humanity, and features expressive of benevolence and generosity, though, as it were, buried deep in deplorable ignorance and abject want. One woman had a remarkably prepossessing countenance, very open and cheerful; so also had one of the men, and he often in our after inter course laughed heartily. I had taken some comfort to my mind, from the favorable aspect which the islands around us, particularly Picton and Garden Islands, presented; but now my heart swelled with emotion, full of pleasure and satisfaction that our errand was for the purpose of imparting benefits so great and so much needed to these poor creatures. I hailed the prospect with a degree of rapture.”

Such was the cheerful spirit with which Mr Williams surveyed the field of his destined labors. But he made its acquaintance under great advantages. Being December, it was the Antarctic midsummer; and, like the climate, the natives wore their best faces. They wanted food and trinkets from the strangers; and as long as their visitors remained on ship-board they were safe from tricks and violence. — But, before proceeding with the narrative, it may be well to introduce the reader to the place and the people. We shall thus better understand how arduous was the task which these pious pilgrims had undertaken, and shall be able to sympathise more fully in the great fight of afflictions which they were soon to pass through.