DA NARRATIVE OF A PRIVATE SOLDIER IN HIS MAJESTY'S 92d REGIMENT OF FOOT. WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. D ETA I LING MANY CIRCUMSTANCES RELATIVE TO THE INSURRECTION IN IRELAND IN 1798; THE EXPEDITION TO HOLLAND IN 1799; AND THE EXPEDITION TO EGYPT IN 1801; AND GIVING A PARTICULAR ACCOUNT OF HIS RELIGIOUS HISTORY AND EXPE- RIENCE. WITH A PREFACE BY THE REV. RALPH WARDLAW, D, D, First American edition, PHILADELPHIA! PXTBITSFBlD for the HENEFIT of the united FOREIGN MISSIONARY SOCIETY. \S22. PREFACE. Long prefaces to Narratives have seldom, I be- lieve, the honour of being read through. If the Narrative possess interest, a tedious recommenda- tion only detains the reader from his enjoyment; and if it possess none, it aggravates his disappoint- ment. — I shall, therefore, be very brief. The subject of the following Memoir has been connected with the church under my pastoral care, nearly since its formation, in the year 1803: — and, from this, as well as from a circumstance in his religious history, which the reader will dis- cover towards the close of the narrative, it may perhaps be thought, that my recommendations are, in some degree, dictated by feelings of partiality. I hope I shall never be so dead to Christian sen- sibility, as to feel nothing of the peculiar interest which the circumstance alluded to, is fitted to pro- duce. Yet I may say with truth, that the very con- sciousness of this interest has made me the more jealous and scrupulous in giving the advice to publish; an advice which I never should have given, unless from a sincere conviction, that the Narrative is fitted both to please and to profit; to gratify curiosity, and, through the blessing of God, to impart instruction and spiritual benefit. IV The remarks of a private in the ranks, when he is a man of any shrewdness and observation, on the incidents that come within his notice, in the campaigns in which he is engaged, have in them a particular interest. — Whilst we are pleased with the degree of intelligence which they discover, we at the same time feel a satisfying confidence, that they contain c a plain unvarnished tale;' unaffected by any temptation, either ' in aught to extenuate, 5 or 4 to set down aught in malice.' The religious experience of the writer, I con- sider as especially instructive. — It sets before us, I believe, in honest simplicity, the workings of a sensible and thoughtful mind, and of a conscience, which had never entirely lost its early impres- sions; — the convictions, and distresses, and rea- sonings, — the self-righteous and self confident re- solutions, and the necessary failures and inconsis- tencies, of an awakened but unrenewed state; — the natural reluctance of man to part with self, to plead guilty, and to depend on grace; and yet the entire inefficacy of every thing but this grace either to impart satisfactory and steadfast peace to the con- science, or to produce in the heart a principle of vigorous and cheerful, consistent and persevering obedience. Of this grace, although, like every other good thing, it has been too often perverted and abused by the self-deceiver and the hypocrite, the native tendency is, to "teach" all who receive it, to " deny ungodliness, and wordly desires, and to " live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this pre- " sent worldj" — 1 teel the delicacy of saying any thing in praise of one, whose living eye the com* mendation is to meet, ami who is still, like all others, the subject of remaining corruption, and in danger of injury from its evil propensities; yet, as it is not himself I commend, but the grace that has made him what he is, and to which he owns him- self an entire and humble debtor, I feel at liberty to say, that the subject of the following Narrative, since he was led to embrace the doctrine of the cross, has been enabled, — amidst imperfections and failures no doubt, of which he himself has been much more sensible than others have been observant, — to " walk in newness of life," and to show, that " the gospel of the grace of God" has been " the power of God unto salvation," when every thing else had failed, and had led only to despair. With the exception of occasional corrections in the use of words and in the structure of sentences, unavoidable in revising for the press the manuscript of one unaccustomed to composition, the style is the writer's own; the work, throughout, having been printed from his autograph, without tran- scription: — and I pledge my word to the reader, that a single additional sentiment has not been in- troduced. I commend the little volume to the candour of the reader, and to the blessing of God; — not with- out a pleasing hope, that while it may benefit, in a temporal view, the family of one, whose wound re- ceived in the service of his country, confined him again, even very recently, from his daily occupa- tion, for nearly four months; it may, at the same 1* VI time, produce higher and more valuable effects, iti the instruction, admonition, and salvation, of those who peruse it. RALPH WARDLAW, GLASGOW. June Uth, 1819. ADVERTISEMENT SECOND EDITION, The very kind reception which the public have given to the first edition, has encouraged the Au- thor to improve and enlarge the second. The additions chiefly consist of a more detailed and combined account of the Insurrection in Ireland, and the Expeditions to Holland and Egypt. These additions, he hopes, will make the reading of the Narrative more pleasant, particularly to young per- sons. He has divided it into chapters, and inserted the number of the regiment he served in; but his name can be of no consequence to the reader. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Cause and design of writing the Narrative. Author at- tends the Sabbath School of Dr. Balfour in Glasgow, in 1790. Enlists into the 92dfoot, in 1796, and joins the regiment in Gibraltar in 1797. Behaviour while there. Returns to England in 1798. CHAPTER II. Regiment lands at Dublin, in June, 1798. State of that city during the insurrection. Conveyed in coaches to Ark- low. Surprises the insurgents on the White Heaps, 5th July. Particulars of the pursuit and arrival at Gorey. Instances of the ferocity of civil war. Kind behaviour of the regiment to the inhabitants. Deserted state of Go- rey, where the Author is much in want of provisions. Distressing state of the surrounding country. March to Blessington, and join the brigade of Sir John Moore, and encamp in the glen of Eimal. Orders against swear- ing. State of the insurgents in the Wicklow Mountains. March to oppose the French who had landed at Killala. Lie in Athlone during the winter. The Author's reli- gious experience while there. March to Cork, and embark for England, June, 1799. CHAPTER III. Join the expedition under Sir R. Abercrombie, and sail for Holland, 6th August. Land near the Helder on the 27th. Action among the sand-hills, and capture of Hel- der. Surrender of the Dutch fleet. Advance to the long dyke; with a description of it, and the surrounding country. Dutch method of churning butter. Action on the long dyke, 10th Sept. Repulse of the Duke of York and the Russians on the 19th. Action on the 2d vm October, near Egmont. Lord Huntly wounded. Sir J. Moore wounded. Singular action of cavalry. Specta- cle of the dead, and severe loss of the regiment. Sin- gular death of a Highlander and Frenchman. March to Alkmaar. Action of the 6th. Author escorts pri- soners on the 7th. Army retreats to the long dyke on the 8th. Armistice and convention for leaving Holland. Author takes the ague. Regiment arrives in England, and goes into Chelmsford Barracks. Religious expe- rience of the Author while there. CHAPTER IV. Regiment embarks at Cowes on board the Diadem, 64, and Inconstant frigate, 27th May, 1800; and sails for the coast of France. Anchors at the Isle of Houet, 2d June. Singular occurrence on the 4th Intended attack on Bel- leisle. Religious seamen on board the Terrible, 74. Sails for the Mediterranean. Arrival at Minorca on the 21st July. Regiment leaves Minorca on board the State- ly, 64. Intended attack upon Cadiz, 6th October. — Dangerous storm in Tetuan bay. Touches at Minorca and Malta. The fleet anchors in Marmorice Bay, pre- paratory to landing in Egypt. Some account of that bay and the surrounding country. Author's state of mind during the passage. He is seized with an infec- tious fever. His religious experience during his sick- ness, and after his recovery. Sails for Egypt. Objec? tion against the truth of the Scriptures. CHAPTER V. Account of the landing -n Egypt, 8th March, 1801. Au- thor seized with night-blindness. Action of the 13th. Scarcity of water. Account of the position of the army and Pompey's Pillar and Cleopatra's Needles. Battle of the 21st, at which the Author is wounded and sent on board an hospital ship. Condition and behaviour of the wounded. Author removed to an hospital at Aboukir. Lord Hutchison goes with a part of the army to Cairo. Author's wound gets worse. Troublesomeness of flies and vermin. Sirocco, or hot wind, and rapid increase ef the plague. Account of_several interesting fc cases. IX Behaviour of the wounded in A.boukir hospital, and the Author's religious experience. CHAPTER VI. Author embarks for Rosetta. Dangerous passage of the bar at the mouth of the Nile. Rosetta hospital. Au- thor dangerously ill. Death of his comrade, &c. Inun- dation of the Nile. Skin bottles. Surrender of Alex- andria. Dress of the Sepoys and Egyptian peasants. Manner of eating their m-als. Mahomedan mosques. Gun fired at mid-day in Cairo by the rays of the sun. Explosion of a powder chest kills several of the 13th foot. Remarks on the state of mind in which many died. Produce and manner of cultivating the Delta. Immense heaps of grain. Wretchedness of the peasantry Ex- tracts from Sir R Wilson and Dr. Clarke, on the diseases and plagues of Egypt. The urn-voidable evils of War, Author leaves Rosetta, and sails for England. CHAPTER VII. Arrival at Cork. Marches to Kilkenny. Proceeds to Lon- don and admitted an out-pensiomr of Chelsea. Ar- rives in Glasgow. Retrospect of his military life. Dis- tressing state of mind. Obtains peace of conscience by hearing the gospel in Albion-street Chapel, and joins the church under the care of Dr. Wardlaw. POSTSCRIPT. Consists of an Address to readers in general, and to those in the army in particular, of what the Author wishes them to learn from the Narrative. NARRATIVE, &c. CHAPTER I. Dear Pastor, I shall now, according to the best of my ability, attempt to gratify the wish you several years since expressed, that I would arrange into one connected narrative, the various particulars I then communicated to you, of my previous life, and the exercises of my mind; its various workings, and conflicts, until the period when I was brought to the knowledge of Jesus, as the only and all-suffi- cient Saviour. in drawing up this account of myself, my mo- tive is, to record the loving-kindness of the Lord to me a sinner; and if you deem it proper to be brought before the public in any shape, the only object I would have in view, is the good of my fel- low sinners, particularly such as have been, or are, in situations of life, similar to those I have been in, or have experienced similar exercises of mind. Into the minutiae, of my early life, I do not in- tend to enter; and 1 would make this general re- mark in the outset, that my chief object is, to give a history of the workings of my mind, during the 12 past part of my life, rather than the particulars of my life itself; but I shall narrate as much of these particulars as is necessary to account for, and il- lustrate, the history of my mind. 1 will also no- tice, briefly, such other things as may serve to entertain or inform the reader. I was born in Glasgow, in the year 1779. — When I was very young, the belief of the omnis- cience of God, was frequently strongly impressed upon my mind, and the thought of his all-seeing eye, often checked my conscience and restrained me during early life, from gratifying my own in- clinations, to the extent I otherwise would have done. I pretty early learned to read; and as I grew older I became increasingly fond of it, even indeed to excess. I read whatever came in my way; but the Psalms of David in metre, in use by the church of Scotland, and the Bible, being the first books in which 1 learned to read, and having the benefit of godly instruction and example at home, religious knowledge was that with which I was most acquainted. When 1 was about eleven years of age, I went to the Sabbath school, belong- ing to the Outer High Church parish, Glasgow. then taught by Mr. Begg, (now minister of New Monkland parish,) and superintended by the parish minister, the late Rev. Dr. Balfour. The chief exercises of the school were, reading the Scrip- tures, and repeating the Assembly's Shorter Cate- chism. Dr. Balfour frequently visited the school, after the afternoon's service was over, and staid sometimes an hour, and sometimes even to the conclusion at six o'clock. When the Catechism 13 was repeated, he interrogated us on the meaning of the questions, and instructed us in their import He questioned us upon the sermons we had been hearing, and gave us doctrines to prove from scrip- ture, by collecting all the passages, that we thought contained these doctrines. The doctrines were the fundamental articles of the Christian religion; and as we read the passages, be would tell us when they were in point, and when not. I was an adept at repeating the Catechism; but as I had no margin Bible to point out the references, I had to range through the wbole scriptures, and exer- cise my judgment, which of course was sometimes right, and sometimes wrong. When I was shown that I had brought forward a passage that did not apply, it made me think better next time; the pas- sages I found out I remembered where to find again; and those that were brought forward by others, I added to my own stock. This was an exercise that did me more good, than all the other exercises of the school: for, in after life, when I had forgotten the Catechism, and the other things I had committed to memory, I did not forget how to find in the Bible, those passages I had formerly known; and if I happened to be reading the Bible, and came to any of those passages that had been read in the school, it awakened in my mind the remembrance of what had taken place there. I would then recollect something of the impressions that had been made at the time on my mind, and endeavoured to remember what was said by the minister on these occasions; but I shall notice this again; in a future part of the narrative, There 14 were rewards sometimes given to any who repeat- ed chapters, psalms, or hymns. The most re- markable instance of this kind that took place while I was in the school, was a present by a gen- tleman, of Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Re- ligion in the Soul, and Sermons to Young Persons,* to be given as a reward to the boy | it was a school for boys only) who repeated best, from memory, Dr. Watts' Divine Songs for Children. We re- ceived copies of the hymns, and a time was fixed for the trial. I was very eager to obtain the prize, and even made it a matter of prayer. I wished to have the book, because I had conceived to my- self, that it would teach me how to get to heaven. When the day of trial came, the minister was not present, but we were heard by one of the elders. The greater part of the children were very young, and most of them had learned only a few of the hymns. There were only four that could go any length in them, and only three that could go com- pletely through them; and their merit was so equal, that it could not be said which was best. I was one of those three; but as it could not be deter- mined who merited the book, it was deferred until next Sabbath evening, when it was expected that the minister would be present. He came, and we repeated the hymns to him with such equal accu- * I have learned since the publication of the first edition, thatthese Hooks were the gift of Mr. Auchincloss, a gen- tleman who took a very lively interest in the Sabbath, schools. He was constantly employed in visiting them, and in giving rewards of various kinds to those who behaved well, and repeated, from memory, psalms or chapters. 15 racy, that he declared he could not give the prize to one more than another; and to make us equal, he procured other two copies of Doddridge's Rise and Progress; but, as he could not find copies of his Sermons to Young Persons, he bound in Bos- ton's Fourfold State in their place, and I was put in possession of one of them. I continued in the school about two years. In 1796, being about the age of seventeen, I enlisted as a soldier in the ?OOth regiment of foot, or Gordon Highlanders, commanded by the Mar- quis of Huntly,* then lying in the island of Cor- sica, When that island was evacuated by the British, the regiment came to Gibraltar, and I, along with the rest of the recruits, left Scotland and went to Chatham, where we joined other par- ties of recruits belonging to regiments lying in Gib- raltar, for which place we embarked at Gravesend, in Nov. 1796. But the convoy with which we sailed, was forced, by stormy weather, to take shelter in Falmouth for six weeks; after which we proceeded to Lisbon, where we lay ten weeks, because the Spanish fleet was at sea, and our's, inferior in number, was watching it. The battle of Cape St. Vincent, was fought while we lay there, in which the Spanish fleet was defeated, and four sail of the line taken, which were sent into Lisbon. The British fleet soon followed, except a squadron left to watch the Spanish fleet in Cadiz. As soon as the fleet had repaired its damages, it set sail for Cadiz, and we went along with it for protec- * The number of the regiment was afterwards changed to the 92d, which is the number of it at present. 16 tion. We left them when we came off Cadiz, and were escorted by some frigates, through the straits to Gibraltar, where we landed in the beginning of April, 1797, and joined the regiment. The general character of the army, for the pro- fanation of God's holy name, is well known: and the temptations a young man has to encounter, from the very general practice of this vice, are very great. The religious instructions I had re- ceived, and the knowledge I had of the Scriptures, deterred me from acquiring a habit of swearing: I frequently reproved my comrades for it; and having done so, pride of heart also operated to pre- vent me from swearing myself, lest my comrades should, in ridicule, retort my reproofs upon me; and this they did not fail to do, if at any time I was guilty of an oath, or any thing approaching to it. Daring the time I had been a recruit, and the time I was in Gibraltar, I neglected the reading of the scriptures. In the regiment, I met with a va- riety of characters; amongst others with Deists, who attempted to shake my belief of the truth of the scriptures. I was greatly disturbed and per- plexed in my mind by their arguments; but I was not drawn into their opinions. Yet I still neglect- ed my Bible, and continued gradually losing the knowledge of it I formerly bad. There was an argument, which had a powerful effect upon my conscience, and with which I met all the pleas and excuses for swearing; — I argued, that if there was no God, it was an absurd thing to swear by the 17 name of a being who had no existence: and if there were a God, be certainly would punish the dishonour done to him, by the profanation of his name. There was a society of Methodisfs in Gibraltar, chiefly composed of men belonging to the different regiments in the garrison. They had a small place, where they had stated meetings for prayer and ex- hortation; there were a few of these Methodists in our regiment. Shortly after 1 joined it, the com- manding officer gave out an order for none of the regiment to attend any of their meetings. What effect this order had in deterring any from attend- ing at the time it was issued, I know not: it had not at least a permanent effect, for I know that se- veral did attend afterwards, and no notice was taken of it. I went to this meeting place only once all the time I was in Gibraltar, and I was nearly a twelvemonth in the place. This shows what a careless state of mind I was in; for I may say it was the only religious exercise I was at, all that time. There were indeed prayers read to the garrison, every Sunday morning on the grand pa- rade, when the weather was dry; but the chaplain was always at such a distance, that I never heard a word he said. There was a chapel at the go- vernor's residence, where service was performed through the day, but I never was in it. I began to fall into company which led me fre- quently to get intoxicated; I did not indeed fall into a habit, nor acquire an inclination for intox- icating liquors for their own sake; but had the same circumstances continued, I have great reason to 2* 18 fear, that an appetite for them would have been formed, and that I might have turned out a ha- bitual drunkard. Gibraltar has, indeed, peculiar temptations to produce a habit of drunkenness. The wine is *> liable to be visited during the night; and if any one was amissing, the owner might be taken up; or if any were in the house whose names were not on the door, or if any one was found in his neigh- bour's house, he was taken up and fined before being set at liberty. Every precaution was used, to prevent plots from being formed, and all means was used to find them out. In such a state of so- ciety, opportunity is afforded to private malice and ill-will, to injure the objects of their enmity. When I was upon the Grand Barrack guard, two respectable old citizens were brought in prisoners. They were men who were unfit, and very unlike- ly to have any active hand in conspiracy against the state. They were confined in the guard -room all that day and night; whether they were libe- rated next day after 1 was relieved, or removed to some other place, I know not. While they were in the guard-room, they were exposed to the inter- rogatories of the ignorant and unthinking, who took every such prisoner to be an insurgent. They were protected, however, by the interposition of the more intelligent and humane. I had a little conversation with them, and they told me it was their belief, that it was an apprentice of theirs with whom they had a difference on account of bad be- haviour, who had, out of revenge, given false ac- cusation against them; such as, that they were holding correspondence with the insurgents in the country, &c. They told me that such cases were frequent. Every person accused was taken up, anu kept until the case should be examined: and as this, from the great number daily apprehended. 23 could not be instantly done, individuals often suf- fered seriously, before they obtained their release. The conduct of persons, whose political senti- ments or behaviour, were in any measure suspi- cious, was closely watched. And when they were found transgressing any of the police rules, their cases were strictly examined. I saw an instance of this, in the case of a respectable gentleman, who was confined in the same guard-room upon another day. He had been found out of his own house after the appointed time at night. He pled that he was only a short time in a neighbour's bouse: and that the person in whose house he was, was himself a very loyal man, and a yeoman. He said he had always" been a very loyal man himself, He acknowledged, that at a certain public meet- ing, (which had taken place some time previous to this) where a certain political question had been discussed, he had spoken warmly, too warmly; but that that was the only thing in the course of his life, that could have any tendency to create any suspicion of his loyalty. He remained in the common guard-room during the day, and was re- moved to another place at night. He was liberated next morning when I saw him, and he told me, that nothing farther than his being out of his own house at night was brought against him; and that he had gotten his liberty on condition of paying ten pounds to the fund for the relief of the widows and children of soldiers who had fallen in the insurrec- tion. He said that he happened to have as much money upon him, and that he paid it cheerfully; for those that were to get it well deserved it. I mention these cases as certain evils arising out of a state of civil war. During the time we lay in Dublin, the insurrec- tion was raging in various parts of the country, and much blood was shedding. Dublin itself was kept in a state of tranquillity, by the vigilance of the police, and the power of the military. Our stay in it was short. On the 1st of July, the volunteer cavalry were employed in going through the city, pressing all the coaches, gigs, and other vehicles, and collect- ing them in one of the squares. At six o'clock at night we paraded, and went into them, and set oif for Arklow. We travelled all night. We were all accommodated at the outset, but fell into consider- able confusion on the way, by some of the coach- men getting drunk, and striving to get past one another; which caused several of the carriages to break down, and others, by running into ditches, to upset. It was conjectured that some of the coachmen did this wilfully, from aversion to the service they were upon. Numbers had thus to walk in the rain, which was heavy; and several had their muskets damaged, by the breaking down or upsetting of the carriages. One man had his firelock completely bent; and when he was asked by the people of the villages through which we passed, what kind of a gun that was, he told them it was one of a new construction, for the purpose of shooting round corners. As we advanced into the country, we began to see the effects of the insurrection. Burnt houses be- gan to make their appearance in the villages, and their number increased as we proceeded. The coaches carried us to about three miles from Ark- low, and then returned to Dublin. We entered Arklow in the evening. The place had. been at- tacked by a large body of insurgents a few days before, who had been repulsed with great slaugh- ter. They had some pieces of artillery, with which they had dismounted one of the guns of the mili- tary, and damaged some of the houses. They had also burnt that part of the town that lay next the sea-side, which w r as composed of low thatched houses, and was inhabited by fishermen. It was a very pitiable sight to see this scene of destruc- tion; and those of my comrades who went to the ground where the insurgents had stood during the action, said it was disgusting. Numbers of dead bodies were still unburied; some of them lying in ditches, and the swine feeding on them. There was a number of prisoners in the place, who had been taken, whom they were trying by court-mar- tial, and hangir.g; but I was not an eye-witness to any executions in this place. A part of the regi- ment was stationed in the church, which was not a large one. This was a new kind of quarters, but every part was occupied, pulpit and all; and the grave stones were the place where we cleaned our arms. The insurgents were still in a body upon one of the hills in the vicinity, and kept the place in alarm; and we had frequently to stand to our arms during the night. On the fourth of July, we pa- raded in the street at 12 o'clock at night, in great haste. The right wing of the regiment got three days bread served out, when we marched away in 3 26 a great hurry, without giving the left wing any. I was in the left wing, and had only a kw crumbs left of that day's rations. We marched very quickly through by-roads; and when day began to break, we made a short pause, and loaded our muskets, — the first time I had done so in the ex- pectation of fighting. There was a high hill before us, (called White Heaps) whose top was covered with mist, and that side which was next to us was very steep. The insurgents were said to be on the top of it. Their number, we afterwards learned, was 5000; of whom 1500 had firelocks, the rest pikes There were about six troops of cavalry along with us: but our whole number did not amount to 1200, without artillery. We ascended the hill with difficulty, without being perceived by those on the top, the mist concealing us from each other. When we had nearly reached the summit, and had entered into the mist that cover- ed it, our front was challenged by the insurgent sentinels, who demanded the countersign, to which the Lieutenant Colonel replied, " You shall have it in a minute." We moved a little further and formed our line. The fog cleared up a little for a minute, when we found that our left was near the enemy, who were collecting themselves into three bodies. The ground betwixt us and them was a wet bog; and the commander of the cavalry told our commanding officer, that if he advanced, the cavalry would not oe able to act in such marshy ground as that before us. The fog again covered us, so that we could not see them, and a gust of wind, with a shower of rain, induced us to stand still. The insurgents then gave a loud cheer, and then a second, and they began a third; but it died away, and was not so full or loud as the others. We "expected to be instantly attacked, as this was their signal of attack. They, however, had ima- gined that we were much stronger than what we were; and being terrified by the suddenness of our appearance, in place of coming forward to attack, they fled in great haste down the opposite side of the bill. We stood in uncertainty for some time, as we could see nothing; then hearing the fire of two guns, we moved in that direction, and got out of the fog, and descended the hill on the side opposite to that which we had ascended. We then learned that the insurgents had gone down the hill; and, having fallen in with another division of the army, had come upon them before they could get fully formed, and had come close to the guns, when they were fired upon and repulsed. It had been ar- ranged, that different bodies of troops should have mounted the hill on opposite sides at the same time; but we had been sooner than the others, which disarranged the plan. The insurgents con- tinued to fly, the cavalry went forward in pursuit, and we followed with all possible haste. When we reached the foot of the hill, I saw four of the insurgents Iving dead. We continued to march with great haste, and frequently changed our route. We heard firing at no great distance; but the par- ties were always gone before we came up. The road was strewed with old clothes, oatmeal, oat bread, and dough, thrown away by the insurgents in their flight. The dragoons killed a great uum- 28 her of them in the fields. The insurgents, in their flight,-fell in with some baggage belonging to some of the other divisions; attacked the guard, and killed and wounded several, before the rest of the army could come to their assistance; the insur- gents were then totally dispersed, and a great many killed and wounded; but our regiment never could arrive in time to take share in any of the actions. Several women were among the dead, who were shot in the ranks of the insurgents. We had a most fatiguing march, of upwards of thirty Irish miles. In the evening we arrived at the town of Gorey, as did also two other divisions of the army. One thing I would particularly notice here, is the ferocity of civil war; it has barbarities not now practised in the national wars ol Europe. In one spot, where seven had fled to a house, in which they were killed, their bodies had been brought out to the road side, where they lay, shamefully un- covered, and some of them mangled in a manner too indelicate to mention. At another place, I saw an insurgent, who had been taken and dragged by the hair of his head, which was long, for some distance along the road, and then shot through the heart. It was said, he was unwilling to in- form upon the rest of the insurgents. Numerous and shocking barbarities were committed on both sides, sometimes originating in animosity, some- times in wanton cruelty, and at other times in re- taliation. I was witness to a scene of the latter kind a few days after, in the town of Gorey. A man 29 was brought to the back of the camp, to be hang- ed upon a tree on the road side, by a party of an English fencihle regiment. The man was scarcely suspended, when the officer of the party fired the contents of two pistols into the body, and then drew his sword and ran it into it. I then turned from the sight with disgust; but those of my com- rades who stayed, told me that the body was low- ered down from the tree upon the road; that the soldiers of the party perforated it with their bayo- nets, cut off the head, cut it in pieces, and threw them about, tossing them in the air, calling out, " Who will have this?" They then dug a hole on the opposite side of the road, and buried the body and the mangled pieces of the head, in the pre- sence of a few of the unhappy man's friends. I was informed that he had been a judge in the in- surgent army for trying their prisoners: that a bro- ther of the officer of the party had been taken prisoner by the insurgents, and had bten sentenced by this man to be piked to death: and that this was the reason why he had been so used. Piking to death was what the insurgents prac- tised upon those of the king's troops that fell into their hands, particularly if they remained firm in their allegiance. The common method was for " two to stand behind, and two before the victim, and tnrust their pikes into his body at once, and raise it from the ground, holding it suspended, writhing with pain, while any signs of life appear- ed. At other times, two men, with pikes, would come before the victim, and begin to stab him in the feet, and then the legs, and thighs, and belly > 3* 30 until they reached the heart. At other times they literally perforated the body all over, with pike wounds ." Such barbarities could not fail to pro- duce desire of revenge. But, as our regiment had not been in the country during the out-breaking of the insurrection, we had received no injury to pro- voke our resentment. And as we had not been employed in the execution of any of the rigorous measures resorted to by the government to prevent the insurrection, no one had any ill will against lis. We were called into the service of suppressing this unhappy and calamitous insurrection, after it h*»d begun to decline, and we were rather wit- nesses of its ruinous and distressing effects, than active hands in suppressing it by force. For it so happened, that although we several times pursued considerable bodies of the insurgents through the mountains, and were at times pretty close upon them, yet no one of us fired a musket, with the exception of one or two, who did it without orders, on the morning of the 5th July, on the White Heaps: neither was a musket fired at us; and the only loss the regiment sustained during this ser- vice, occurred one morning when we were pur- suing a body of insurgents among the mountains. One of our men having fallen behind through weakness, was met by two or three insurgents in women's clothes, carrying pails of milk on their heads, as if returning from milking. They offered him drink; and, while he was drinking, one of them seized his musket, and after threatening to kill him, they allowed him to proceed to the regi- ment, with the loss of his musket and ammunition. 31 The sight of so many houses and villages, and parts of towns, burned and destroyed, and the great number of women and children, who were in a destitute state, because their husbands and fathers were either gone with the insurgents, or were fled for safety, touched most powerfully the sensibdities of our hearts, and diffused a feeling of generous sympathy through the regiment. It so happened at that time, that we had newly received a more than ordinary balance of arrears of p ly, so that every man was in possession of money, J.-ss or more; and although we were very fond of milk, because we had been long living upon salt provi- sions, before our arrival in Ireland, yet there were none who would accept of a draught of milk for nothing, but would pay its price. And if the peo- ple of the house would not take payment, they would give the value of what milk they received to the children. As this conduct in soldiers is more rare than even conspicuous courage in the field, the truth of what is here asserted, may be the more ready to be questioned. I shall, therefore, take the liberty of inserting a quotation from Gordon's History of the Irish Rebellion. The author of that work is a clergyman, whose residence appears to have been in the vicruity of Gorey, and who had a personal knowledge of what took place there at that time. That author complains of the losses sustained this often terminates " in thost dreadful wounds alluded to in the sacred " writings, bv the words * biles and blains.'' During " the months of June, July, and August, many in- " dividuals are deprived of sight, owing to a dis- " order of the eyes peculiar to this country. -Ew- " ropeans, having no other name for it, have called " it ophthalmia, from the organs it affects. There u was hardly an individual who did not suffer, " more or less, the consequences of this painful *' malady. At this season, also, the dysentery be- and mats that we got nsw in the hospital in Rost-tta in the end of June, were so full of bugs by the end of Sep- tember, that they were fit only to be burnt. 185 a gins to number its victims; and although some " be fortunate enough to escape the worst effects " of this disorder, it proves fatal in many io- " stances."* Dr. Clarke's account of what he experienced at Cairo, in the middle of August, is also interesting: u The mercury in Fahrenheit's thermometer seem- " ed at this time fixed. It remained at 90° for " several days, without the smallest perceptible " change. Almost every European suffered from " inflammation of the eyes. Many were troubled " with cutaneous disorders. The prickly heat " was very common. This was attributed to a drinking the muddy water of the Nile, the in- " habitants having no other. Their mode of " purifying it, in a certain degree, is by rubbing " the inside of the water vessel with bruised a almonds: this precipitates a portion of the mud, " but it is never quite clear. Many persons were " afflicted with sores upon the skin, which were u called ' biles of the .MZe;' and dysenterical com- u plaints were universal. A singular species of " lizard made its appearance in every chamber, " having circular membranes at the extremity of " its feet, which gave it such tenacity, that it 4t walked upon window-panes of glass, or upon " the surfaces of pendent mirrors.f This revolting " sight was common to every apartment, whether * Clarke's Travels, vol. v. pp. 56, 59. f " A similar membrane terminates each foot of a com- " mon fly: beneath which a vacuum takes place, and the " animal maintains a footing upon ceiling's, owing to the " pressure of the external air upon this membrane." 16* 186 4 in the houses of the rich or of the poor. At the 4 same time, such a plague of Hies covered all 4 things with their swarms, that it was impossible 4 to eat without hiring persons to stand by every 4 table with feathers, or flappers, to drive them 4 away. Liquor could not be poured into a glass; 4 the mode of drinking was by keeping the mouth 4 of every bottle covered until the moment it was 4 applied to the lips: and instantly covering it i with the palm of the hand, when removing it to 4 offer to any one else, The utmost attention to 1 cleanliness, by a frequent change of every arti- 4 cle of wearing apparel, could not repel the at- 4 tacks of vermin which seemed to infest even 4 the air of the place. A gentleman made his 4 appearance before a party he had invited to 4 dinner, with lice swarming upon his clothes. 4 The only explanation he could give as to the 4 cause, was, that he had sat for a short time in 1 one of the boat* upon the canal. Perhaps ob- 4 jeetion may be made to a statement even of 4 facts, which refers to no pleasing theme; but 4 the author does not conceive it possible to give 4 Englishmen a correct notion of the trials to 4 which they will be exposed in visiting this coun- c try, without calling some things by their proper 4 names."* Before losing sight of the contest that was in Egypt, it may not be amiss to glance at the un- avoidable evils of war. With the inhabitants we had no quarrel: our sole object was to expel the • Clarke's Travels, vol. v. pp. 78, 80. 187 French. But this could not be done, without the peaceful inhabitants receiving, in many cases, serious injury. The roads from town to town did not suit the march of the army to and from Cairo; the troops generally took the direct road through the corn -fields, and their encampments were some- times in fields of corn, tobacco, poppies, sego, melons, indigo, &c. the produce ot which, how- ever valuable, was destroyed. Fuel was scarce; and the soldiers were necessitated to use what- ever would burn. Stalks of tobacco, bean straw, and such like substances, were used to boil the kettles;* and in places where dry straw was diffi- cult to be had, it was necessary to place guards at the entrances to the neighbouring villages or towns, to prevent the soldiers from unroofing the houses for wood to make fuel: and With all the attention of the officers, such was the necessity of the case, that injury could not always be prevented. The discipline of the army was strict, and the general behaviour of the troops good; but many instances of petty depredations and pilfering took place, that were not known, and could not be pre- vented. Many instances occurred of inhabitants, particularly Arabs, who sold bread, fruit, eggs, &c. having their articles taken from them by " fellows of the baser sort," without any payment, and sometimes with abuse into the bargain. The Arabs when so used would throw dust upon their heads, and call upon God, and the Prophet, and * When their rations happened to be salt pork, they used to put a piece of it under the kettle to burn with the straw. 188 the Sultan. But as this usage was not general, and as the army spent a considerable sum of good money among them,* they were not deterred from following it with whatever they had to sell, and I believe many of them made more money at that time, than ever they had an opportunity of doing before or since. On the afternoon of the 2d Octo- ber, we again left Rosetta, and lay for the night near the mouth of the river. The wind was moderate next morning; we passed the bar safely: had a pleasant voyage across the bay of Aboukir, and through Lake Maadie; passed through the cut in the banks of the canal of Alexandria into Lake Mareotis,f and landed not far from the place * With the exception of gold, which was in the hands of a few, the coin circulating in Egypt was made of base metal, watered over with silver; and was of little or no in- trinsic value. There were large pieces of this kind, some of them larger than a crown, which were of different values: but a small coin, called a para, about the breadth of a farthing, and no thicker than the scale of a fish, was the most common; of which 120, and in some places 160, were given for a Spanish dollar. The money expended by the army was gold and Spanish dollars. f The inundation in this lake extended farther than the eye could reach. The banks of the canal formed a road for communicating with the interior of the country; a bridge of boats united the banks, one of the boats being moveable, for the purpose of allowing vessels to pass in and out of Lake Mareotis. Before the army wholly left the country, the boats forming the bridge were sunk in the cut, and served for a foundation upon which the banks were rebuilt. When the British took Alexandria, in March, 1807, a detachment was sent to take Rosetta; but they were repulsed by those Turks who had accompanied the army on its march to and from Cairo, and who had acquir- ed a considerable portion of British discipline. The rays ©f the sun had by this time so far dried up the salt water 189 where the battle of the 21st of March was fought, of which I had thus another view, and which I never can forget. I joined the regiment on the heights of Alexandria; we embarked next day at Aboukir, on board of two frigates; sailed on the morning of the 7th October; and lost sight of the celebrated land of Egypt by 12 o'clock. None regretted this. We indeed regretted our country- men and comrades, who had found a grave there; but the country itself had no charms to make us regret leaving it. All our thoughts were now fixed upon home; and we rejoiced to think, that every day was bringing us nearer it. CHAPTER VII. After a pleasant passage, having light winds and fine weather, we arrived at Malta on the 23d Octo- ber. Here our joy was wonderfully heightened by the news of peace. The news had come from France, but they were credit worthy. The only cause of regret was, that such an important and strongly fortified place as M:dta, where we now lay, was to be given up. We did not leave Malta until the 26th November, at which delay the sol- diers were vexed; but the naval officers were no way anxious to get home, because they knew that in Lake Mareotis as to render it passable-, but the British again cut the banks of the canal, and admit led the sea into it, to protect Alexandria from being attacked by the Turks. 190 the ship would be paid off, and they would then Jose their situations. Our own officers were ap- prehensive that the regiment might be reduced, which would put them on half pay; but the men rejoiced in the prospect.* We had a tedious pas- sage clown the Mediterranean, and did not arrive at Gibraltar until the 20th December. We left it on the 1st January, 1802, and arrived at the Cove of Cork on the 23d, having had rough weather all the way, which on two occasions in- creased to a tempest, and did the ship I was in considerable damage. We had to ride quarantine until the 9th February. My leg had stretched considerably during the passage, and I walked about the deck with the help of a stick. The regiment landed, and marched into Cork on the 12th, the wounded and baggage being conveyed by water. And here I found that, although I could safely walk about with a stick on the level deck of a ship, my leg was not sufficiently strong to travel the necessary distances on land. My wound here broke out again; and when the regiment left Cork for Kilkenny, although I rode upon the bag- gage, yet the travelling from the places where the baggage lulted to my billet, which was sometimes more than a mile, was injurious to me. We came to Kilkenny on the 21st, and lay in it about six weeks. The regiment was inspected by the General and Surgeon of the district, and a great number ordered to be discharged, of which 1 was one. * The short duration of the peace, however, prevented tbe fulfilment of it. iiU My conduct in Kilkenny was not what it ought to have been; not that I fell into open gross sin, but I did not improve my mercies as I ought, and was guilty of what I disallowed in my own con- science, and felt my weakness and inability to overcome the inward workings of corruption. I here bought Young's Night Thoughts, that by reading it, I might fortify my mind against temp- tation. I placed great confidence in the power of the poet's language; but it had not the effect I wished and expected. I was one evening at the Methodist chapel; but I did not pay that attention to the Sabbath which I might have done. The regiment left Kilkenny, and marched tor Belfast; and when we came to Dublin, the discharged men that were recommended to the benefit of Chelsea Hospital, embarked for Liverpool, from which we proceeded to London; where I was examined and admitted an out-pensioner of Chelsea Hospital, on the 27th May, 1802. I left London on the 29th, and took a passage in one of the Carron Com- pany's brigs; landed at Queensferry on the 12th of June, and arrived in Glasgow next day, happy to find myself restored to my friends. — My wound was still open; 1 might have gone into York Hos- pital in London, and been cured, previously to being discharged; and had I been wise, I should have done this: but I was so anxious to be home, that I did not do it, for fear it might delay me some time. My military life being now terminated, I desire to bless God, with a grateful heart, for his good- ness and care over me while in the army, in a 19& particular not before referred to. For during the six years that I was a soldier, I was never confined for any fault. My conduct was, in general, good, in a military point of view; but there were times that I was guilty of faults, tor which I might have been punished, and which I have reason to thank God for escaping. And what is a little singular, I was never concerned in any court martial case, nor so much as a witness against any man; on the whole, I passed comparatively easy and quietly through the army, and without doubt, the remain- ing restraints of early and religious instruction was one particular mean of preserving me from many evils and dangers; and in this respect proved an invaluable blessing to me, while I was a soldier. I mention this particular to show what good early religious instruction may do, although it may not have the effect of converting the soul. I had now attained my wishes, by being safely settled at home. God had given me the desire of my heart. If I did not now find ability to keep the commandments of God, in the way that I pro- posed to myself, and upon which I founded my hope of meriting and enjoying his favour, I could not expect to find any situation more favourable. I called to mind all the promises I had made, and reflected on all the deliverances God had gracious- ly given me, and the gratitude that was due to him for them. Circumstances led me to attend Mr. Ewing's ministry at the Tabernacle; but, although I attended divine ordinances, and read religious books, I was not a whit the better. I had also considerable opportunity of being alone; but where 193 I thought I would be strongest, there I found I was weakest; and, when removed from outward temptation, inward corruption increased, and baf- fled my utmost efforts. The more I strove to keep my own heart and life from sin, the more sin triumphed over me. I found, in my experience, that 1 was a slave to sin; tor what I set myself to overcome, overcame me. At the same time, the spirituality of God's law increasingly opened on my mind; I daily saw more of the extent of the work I had assigned to myself to perform, in order to obtain the favour of God; and found that my practice, in place of getting nearer, was getting farther from it. When I looked back on the mer- cies I had received, and the promises and resolu- tions I had made, I saw that I had all along been mocking God, having never fulfilled any of them. This broke my peace 'of mind; I became more subject to the terrors of the law than I had ever been; my conscience accused me of the blackest ingratitude; I had no refuge to fly to; my sins be- came too heavy for me; the justice of God stared me in the face; and now I saw that I was a con- demned criminal. I gave over all hope of obtain- ing the favour of God by my own doings; I resolved to mock him with no more promises of amendment of life; I confessed that hell wwswhat I deserved; that the law which condemned me was just: and, when I did this, the importance of being delivered from such a dreadful situation was increasingly impressed upon my mind: but how to obtain tliat deliverance I could not tell. I saw by the Scriptures, that "unless a man be born again, 17 194 lie can not enter Into the kingdom of God," and that no unholy being shall enter heaven. I prayed earnestly for the new heart and the right spirit, but did not correctly understand in what this change consisted. I passed a considerable time subject to sharp conflicts in my mind, during which, the stings of conscience and the terrors of the law were beyond description: but all was kept within my own breast, without being discerned by any one. My leg continued bad until the beginning of 1803, when I confined myself to bed for some weeks, and had the pleasure once more of seeing it heal. I felt thankful to God for this new mercy; but it added fresh torment to my mind, for it fur- nished my conscience with new matter of accusa- tion. In perusing Boston's u Fourfold State,- ' I was startled at reading how the branches are taken out of the natural stock. I saw my own case pretty fully described; but as I did not under- stand what it was to be " apprehended of Christ," and united to the vine, it only increased my un- easiness. I also heard a man in conversation in my company declare, that, before a sinner can be brought to God, the same power behooved to be exerted that converted the apostle Paul. I did not assent to what he said, because I did not believe it; but I marked the saying. I became increas- ingly uneasy; I had no peace in my mind; eternity was before me; I was without hope, and knew not how to obtain it. " What" said I, " shall become oj me!" I was agitated almost to despair; all that prevented me from falling into it was the con- sideration that I was yet in life, and that God had ID j not forbidden me to cry for mercy: and for mercy I did cry, if peradventure I might find it. My leg now threatened to break out again. — This alarmed me more, and it prevented me from going, as I had done, to the Tabernacle. The forenoon of the second Sabbath after Albion-street chapel was opened, I passed solitary at home; but I was in a most painful state of mind, of which the agitations can nto be described. My convic- tions of sin were so sharp as to drive me into a state, which, if it was not absolute despair, could hardly be distinguished from it. I could not bear my own presence, and became afraid to be alone. " What shall become of me!" was the unremitting thought of my agitated soul. It at length drove me to my knees; where, with tears, I confessed my sins to God without reserve or palliation; fully acknowledged the righteousness and justice of his law; disclaimed all merit of my own; confessed that I never had any, nor any ability to obtain it; that I was totally unable to do any thing to pro- cure his favour, or to recompense him for it, should be bestow it; and that if I was saved from end- less wo, it would be, because he would have mercy on me, out of his own sovereign pleasure, and not on account of any merit of mine. I cast myself upon his pure mercy, and confessed that if there was not pure mercy for sinners, I could have no hope. — When I arose from my knees, it was near the time of the afternoon's service. I felt quite uneasy at home. I thought I would venture as far as to Albion street chapel, because it was at no great distance, and because J had heard my 19(3 father speaking favourably of you as a preacher. I was the more disposed too to go there, because I knew you were in connexion with Mr. Evving, of whom I had formed a favourable opinion. When I got to the chapel, I was all attention. When you prayed, I endeavoured to pray also. But nothing particularly arFectev? me, until you gave out your text, 1 Cor ii. 2. " For I determined not to know anv thing among you, save Jesus Christ and him crucified." — I was struck with the text, and be- came anxiously attentive, to see if I could catch any thing from the discourse which was to follow, that could give ease to my troubled mind. You bad preached from it the preceding sabbath, and having recapitulated what you bad gone over, you proceeded to the remainder of the subject; the tenor of which was, the nature of the work that Christ had accomplished in the room of sinners, for their salvation. As you proceeded, I thought I be- gan to discern something I had not seen before. — But when you proved from the Scriptures, that the work which Christ had finished on mount Calvary, was of itself sufficient to save sinners, and that God had accepted his work as satisfactory to him; that, therefore, the work of Chirst being perfect, no- thing could be added to it; that it was impious to attempt to add any thing to it, and that sinners ought to rest satisfied with that which God had declared was satisfactory to him, seeing he knew best what was necessary to satisfy his justice, and to secure his own honour in pardoning sinners; that no good works were required of the sinner by God, as the ground of his acceptance with him, either in 497 whole or in part, but that it was the merit of the work of Christ alone, that justified sinners in the sight of a holy God, and that all the praise of their salvation belonged to Christ, and to the grace of God in him; and that sinners should believe this doctrine as good news, and put their trust in it for the salvation they needed.— - You I think spoke al- so of the effect which the faith of this doctrine had on all them that believed it, in leading them to love God, and to keep his commandments. I was greatly enlightened by the whole discourse; but my mind particularly catched the words, that the work of Christ was of itself perfect; that nothing could be taken from it, or added to it; and that it was impious to attempt to add any thing to it. — This doctrine appeared new to me. I thought I had never heard it before. I left the chapel when the service was over, repeating to myself the words, " The work of Christ is perfect, sufficient of itself to save a sinner;'''' and, as I repeated it, I said, u This is good news if it be true." Another thought now started into my mind: — If it be true that nothing can be added to it, and that it is im- pious to attempt it, how guilty have I been!"- — My whole train of repentances, promises, resolutions, and attempted reformations, has not only been sin- ful in the sight of God, on account of their failures, but have been impious acts of rebellion; not on account of my endeavouring to forsake sin, and to cultivate holiness, but on account of the motive that produced them, which was a desire to work out a righteousness of my own, to the rejecting of the righteousness of Christ; placing my works on 17* 198 a level with his, nay, above bis; seeking to merit God's favour by my own doings; and when doubt- ing of their complete sufficiency, having recourse to the merits of* Christ, merely to make up the de- ficiency of mine; and even this, not from volun- tary choice, but from a feeling of necessity. This was a new source of guilt to my conscience, which bad never burdened it before. I began to ap- prehend I had been guilty of the sin of unbelief, so often spoken of in the Scriptures, and so strong- ly condemned. But while my conscience accused me of this, a gleam of hope dawned on my soul, by ruminating on the sufficiency of the work of Christ; and the more I pondered on the subject, my hope increased, and the more my hope increas- ed, the stronger my sense of the sin of unbelief grew. These two things kept pace with one ano- ther: and while hope cheered my heart, this new sense of guilt made me humble. I did not think less of the guilt of my other sins; but this sin seem- ed to outweigh them all, so that I became increas- ingly vile in my own sight. I read the Scriptures, with prayer to God for light and direction, that I might truly judge the doctrine I had been hearing, and not be led astray by that which was not his own truth. I com- pared scripture with scripture; and I now found the very great benefit of being acquainted with the letter of the Bible, and of having much of it on my memory. My meditations were greatly assisted by what was stored in it; for when employed at my work, I often recollected passages, and com- pared them together. All the drift of my thoughts, 109 was to find if there was evidence of the sufficiency of the work of Christ, for a sinner's salvation; and in many of these passages I found such evidence: they appeared to me in a new light; and the sense was so obvious, that I wondered how I had not seen it before. This new discernment gradually increased; and, as my wound did not break out, I continued to attend Mr. Ewing's ministry, and was growing in knowledge by means of his ser- mons. One of them was particularly blessed to me. It was an evening sermon from Matth. iii. 3 7. "And lo, a voice from heaven, which said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleas- ed." The moment the text was read, I catched the words, u in whom I am well pleased" I saw them, as containing a proof of God's satisfaction in the Work of his Son on the behalf of sinners; I fol- lowed the preacher through the discourse, and was at no loss to comprehend his meaning; the doctrine was plain and evident to me. I had still, however, some perplexity in my mind, about the nature of the good works to be performed after believing But this was removed by a sermon from Mr. Greig* from Heb. iii. 14. u For we are made partakers of Christ, if we hold the beginning of our confidence steadfast unto the end." My mind now became decided; I saw that if a sinner had Christ, he had all. I was sweetly constrain- ed to give myself wholly up to him; to be content to be saved by his merits, to the entire and eternal exclusion of my own; to place my hope of ac- * Then assistant to Mr. Ewihg; now minister of the con- gregation in Crown Court, London. 200 ceptance with God, both now and hereafter, solely upon his perfect righteousness, and complete atonement; and to commit mj polluted soul to the gracious influence of his Spirit, that he might so apply the blood of Christ, as to " purge it from dead works, to serve the living God." I now saw that deliverance from sin itself, was a part of the salvation of Christ: and I was led to trust in him for sanctification, as well as for righteousness and redemption. I now understood clearly what had puzzled me, when I read the book on Content- ment, in Athlone. I was no longer at a loss to understand what it was to be willing to do all things for Christ, and to be willing to deny all things for Christ. I saw that Christ is his people's strength; that the power which enables them to perform duty, to resist temptation, and to over- come their spiritual enemies, is wholly derived from him; that therefore when they conquer their enemies, and bring forth the fruits of righteousness, the glory of the conquest belongs to him through whose strength they have been performed. I therefore esteem it my high privilege as well as duty, to " count all things but loss for the excel- lency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord; for whom" I trust I have, in a measure, been made willing to " suffer the loss of all things, and to count them but dung, that I may win Christ, and be found in him, not having mine own righte- ousness which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith." Phil. iii. 9, 10. My next concern was ? about the question, — 201 What is the proper form of church government? — I had been made a little acquainted with the claims ot Episcopacy, and they perplexed me a good deal. Upon the general question, my stock of information was small. This much I knew, that all parties refer- red a good deal to the Acts of the Apostles, for proofs of their respective opinions; and, as Mr. Ewing had commenced a course of lectures upon that book, I hoped to obtain such information, as should enable me to come to a determination in my own mind. I continued to hear him with a good deal of inter- est, until he had gone through the fifteenth chapter. I then embraced his opinions on that subject; and 7 feeling the want of Christian fellowship, I deter- mined to make present conviction the rule of pre- sent duty; and seeing that it was the will of Christ that his people should be united together in fellowship, I resolved to apply to Mr. Ewing, for admission to the church under his care. Being at a loss from my ignorance of the mode of applica- tion, and entire want of acquaintance with any of the members of his church, I wrote him a letter. This introduced me to a conversation, with which he was satisfied, cad my case was to be mention- ed to the church at their next meeting. I had no sooner returned home, however, than the words of Jesus, John iv. 36. "And he that reapeth re- ceiveth wages, and gatbereth fruit unto life eter- nal; that both he that soweth and he that reapeth may rejoice together,*' occurred to my mind. — This led me to remember you, my dear Sir, through whom I had received the knowledge of the truth, and to consider whether there was not a propriety, if not a duty, rather to apply to the church under 203 your care, for admission, than to Mr. Swing's. I determined to consider this point, and wrote to Mr. Ewing, requesting him to delay mentioning my case to his churchy as something had occurred to my mind, which it appeared to be my duty pre- viously to consider, but as soon as I should come to a determination I should let him know. I then attended your preaching, to see whether it would be as beneficial to me as Mr. "Ewing's. You were then lecturing in the forenoons through the 1st Epistle of John. As I was but a babe in Christ, doctrinal subjects were what I stood most in need of. I found myself edified by your discourses, and I felt an increasing attachment to you as my spirit- ual father; and, as we were of one mind on mat- ters of church order, it appeared clearly to be my duty to seek for admission into your church. Every tie of spiritual affection seemed to require it. You had, through the blessing of the great Head of the church, sowed to me the words of eternal life: I, through his blessing, had reaped them; and, as there was no obstacle betwixt us, love said it was most proper, that he that sowed and he that reap- ed should rejoice together; For where should a convert to the truth seek to be, but under the care of the instrument that converted him? There must be a peculiarity of affection, betwixt a spiritual father and his children, beyond that of others placed under his care and instruction. This pe- culiar affection had now begun to operate in my mind; for at first I had been so much taken up with the discovery of the truth itself, that I had paid little attention to the instruments who preach- ed it; but I now found leisure to give them a place, 203 in their various degrees, in my affections, without losing any regard for the truth, or for its great Author and object, Jesus Christ, the Chief Shep« herd of the sheep. In order therefore to strengthen your hands in the work of an under shepherd, as well as for my own benefit, I drew up a summary narrative of my life and experience, and of the way in which it had pleased the Lord to lead me to a knowledge of his precious truth, and sent it to Mr. Ewing, with the reasons why 1 thought it my duty to apply for admission to your church. These reasons Mr. Ewing approved of; he gave you that narrative to introduce me to you; and I was soon favoured with being admitted under your pastoral care. The narrative is now greatly en- larged; but before bringing it to a close I wish to make a few general remarks. I would begin with stating, that the belief ot that doctrine which gave peace to my troubled con- science, gave also a degree of stability to my conduct, such as I had never before been able, with my utmost efforts, to attain. Not but that I Lave still to lament, that sin dwells in me; but, by the grace of God, it does not reign over me, as formerly; and the less I think of myself, and the lower I estimate my own strength, and the more I trust to the gracious promise of imparted strength, from the compassionate and all powerful Redeemer, the stronger I am. Whilst 1 rejoice in the pos- session of the new man, I have still to mourn the existence of the old; I find in my experience in- creasing evidence of the deceitfuiness and desperate wickedness of the heart, and see increasing reason, 204 to be vile in my own eyes, and to pray continually " God be merciful to me a sinner," but I trust in his grace, that he will w fulfil in me all the good pleasure of his goodness, and the work of faith with power," and u preserve me by his power, through faith unto salvation," enabling me to maintain the war of the spirit against the flesh, until I get a complete and eternal victory. And here I must express my gratitude to God, for the benefit of Christian fellowship, and of pas- toral care and instructions. It is now about six- teen years since I first heard you preach, and became a member of the church under your mi- nistry. We have had our trials, to exercise our forbearance and patience; but we have also had our comforts. I still love the brethren, and while I say, " Grace be to all them who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity," I wish for no other fel- lowship; and while I love all who preach Christ crucified, as the only ground of a sinner's accep- tance with a holy God, yet I desire no other teacher than he who first turned my wandering feet into the way that leadeth to life. Your instructions and warnings have, I trust, enabled me to keep in that way with my face Zionward. May the Lord grant, that we may continue to walk together, and be, in our respective stations, comforts to each other on the road, until we arrive at the heavenly Jerusalem; — and there may I be one of those, who shall be to you, " a crown of joy and rejoic- ing in the presence of the Lord!" There may we rejoice together, in the rich mercy of the great Redeemer, and give him all the praise, for convert- 205 ing and preserving grace, both in the convert and in him who was the instrument of his conversion; and may you have many more in whom to rejoice, besides the subject of this narrative! I thank God for the success with which he has been pleased to bless your labours. There are not a few, who now sit under your ministry, who have received the knowledge of the truth by means of your preaching; and others, I believe, have joined the church above. May the Lord grant you increas- ing success in turning sinners to God, and in edi- fying saints; may he bless the labours of all his servauts and people; and may his own word have free course and be glorified, by the overturning of the kingdom of sin and of Satan in the world; and may the " kingdoms of this world soon become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ." Amen. I remain, Dear Pastor, Your Affectionate Son In the Faith of the Gospel, G.B GLASGOW, January, 1819. To the Rev. Ralph Waudlaw, POSTSCRIPT. Having now finished my narrative, may I take the liberty of adding a few reflections, with a view to direct the minds of those who may read it, to the lessons I should wish them to learn from it. 18 206 There are two things which are conspicuous in it; the first is, a sinner's weakness; the second is, a sinner's blindness. — It shows how long and how often I attempted to cleanse my own heart. I made the effort under all the variety of circumstances I have mentioned, but all in vain. I acted under all the motives I could collect from a sense of the glory, goodness, justice, and general mercy of God, as displayed in the works of creation and provi- dence; and also from what I had learned from the Bible of the requirements of the moral law, which was often like a fire in my conscience; and from a fear of hell and eternal judgment, and a desire of heaven and eternal life; and from a sense of mercy to myself in being so often protected when in imminent danger, delivered out of trouble, and brought back from the very jaws of death in an- swer to my prayers for mercy: — yet all these put together were insufficient to keep me from break- ing the commandments of God, and being guilty of what I condemned in my own conscience. — And thus it will be with every sinner, that sets himself to perform the same task. I do not refer to my experience, as an exclusive proof of this; but I refer to it as an instance of the truth of God's word, which declares that sinners are " without strength" Rom. v. 6. Let any sinner undertake the same task, and I can assure him from the word of God, that he will come no better speed. He may attempt it again and again; but every new attempt will only show his weakness and blind- ness; and, as he proceeds, he will find that he was not aware of the ten thousandth part of the extent 207 and difficulty of the task. If he persevere in it, he will find it necessary, after endeavouring to re- form his outward conduct, to look within* and there he will discover work he was not at first aware of. He will find it absolutely indispensable to watch over his heart if he means to reform external con- duct: for it is the heart that first yields to tempta- tion. And, let his resolutions be ever so strong, and his intentions ever so sincere, he will find that the slightest temptations are sufficient to overcome him. Nor will he be in danger from outward temptatious only; for although be were in the re- tirement of a hermit, and totally secluded from the world, he would find temptations to sin rising spon- taneously out oi that very heart which had formed the resolution not to commit it; he would find himself led like a captive to the commission of it, and that in the face of the clear light of duty, and in spite of the strongest remonstrances of con- science; thus giving him the most convincing evidence, if he had eyes to see it, that u the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked;" (Jer. xvii. 9.) that " he that commit- teth sin is the servant (or slave) of sin;" ( John viii. 34,) and that " he that trusteth in his own heart is a fool." (Prov. xxviii. 26.) So long, however, as a sinner has any confidence in his own strength, he will not renounce it, in order to depend upon strength to be imparted from another. So long as he fancies any merit in his own works, he will trust to them to procure his Maker's favour. But in this he only -shows his blindness that I could convince any into whose hands this narrative may fall, to re- Bounce, as entirely hopeless, all such efforts; and also as entirely worthless, all such attempted reforma- tions; and to flee to the all-mighty and all-merito- rious Redeemer! You need his perfect righteousness to justify you, and his blood to atone for your sins; you need the gracious influences of his Spirit to purify your hearts, and to give you strength to walk in the ways of God; for the motive to obe- dience that alone can enable you to walk with steadfastness and consistency arises out of the be- lief of the love of Christ, in giving himself a ran- som for the guilty. The belief of this will inspire you with love to him in return; and this, ana this alone, will set your souls at liberty from the slave- ry of sin. It is to those who believe the love that he manifested in ireely giving himself a sacrifice for them, that he imparts strength to resist tempta- tion; and he warns all his disciples, that "without him they can do nothing." He has promised his grace as sufficient for them that trust in him in the most trying situations, and to perfect his strength in their weakness: — nor is this an empty promise; for he, to whom it was more immediately address- ed, declared, that " he could do all things through Christ who strengthened him;*' and the way in which he obtained the power was, by being con- scious of his own weakness, and trusting entirely to the promised strength of the Saviour; " for," says he, " when I am weak then am I strong ." 2 Cor. xii. 7 — 10, with Phil. iv. 13 — Go you and do as he did; and you will find that Christ will be the same to you that he was to him, for the 209 Saviour is unchangeable; " tlie same yesterday, and to day, and for ever" Heb. xiii. 8. I have been minute in detailing the exercises of my mind, much more so than some may think there is need for. I have been induced to this in order to show how long and how strenuously a sinner may go on in that course, although his efforts are constantly failing; and fail they must, so long as his hopes terminate on himself, and so long as he refuses to put his entire confidence in the Sa- viour. He may give over the task in despair, and sink into carelessness and indifference; but if, whilst he finds his hopes of himself fruitless, he is still convinced of the importance and necessity of the salvation of his soul, and feels that he is one ready to perish; then the news of a Saviour will be glad tidings to him indeed; and with the death of his legal hopes a life of evangelical obedience will commence. I have been induced to be minute, from a desire to show to others the folly of con- tinuing to labour in the fire, as I did, for very vanity; and that they may see the necessity of fleeing directly to the Saviour. If you are saved at all you must do this at the last; and why not to-day as well as to-morrow, or any future period? Jesus says, u To-day if ye will hear my voice, harden not your hearts:" he says, u Come unto me, ail ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." And why will ye not hear his voice, and accept of his invitation to-day? If you reject him to-day, you may not live till to- morrow. All the offers of the gospel are present offers; there is no promise respecting to-morrow, 18* 210 Jesus is as able to-day as to-morrow. He offers himself to-day. His salvation is a present salva- tion. " Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation." If any read this narrative who are putting off the concerns of their immortal souls to a death-bed, and are deluding themselves with the notion, that the distress of a sick-bed and the fear of death will break the power of sin in their hearts, and that they will then repent and believe; while you think this, you show that you do not know what repent- ance and faith are; for, did you know what they are, you would already have repented and believed. You can not know them until you are in actual possession of them. Your conduct is, therefore, ignorant and presumptuous. Faith and repentance are present duties; and if you will not repent of your sins noio, and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ for salvation, what security have you that you will do so hereafter? you may be brought to a sick- bed; and there the approach of death, and the fear of hell, and remorse of conscience, arising out of convictions of sin, may greatly alarm you; but this will not change your heart, nor save your soul. Such a state of mind is neither repentance nor conversion. How often was I in danger, and imagined I repented; and, wheu I was at the point of death, I thought I had repented in truth. But my conduct after I had recovered showed that I had deceived myself; and had I died in the state I then was in, I must have perished. When you are laid on a sick-bed, you may find that you have no hope of heaven if you die at present; you may 811 wish to recover, that you may change your con- duct; you may cry to God to spare you; but he may not hear you; and when you see that death is actually approaching, you may be driven to de- spair, and die without hope: or, in order to Calm a troubled conscience, you may persuade your- selves, that you have repented, and that, as you are not allowed to live, God will accept of the sincerity of your repentance; and you may thus u go down to the grave with a lie in your right hand." But if you despise the offer of a Saviour now, and put off these things to a death-bed, which many never see, but are called suddenly out of the world, the probability is, that when you are actually laid upon it, however old you may be, and however evident the approach of your latter end may be to all who see you, you will not think you are going to die yet, but will still indulge the hope of longer life; — until death lays his cold hand on your heart, and closes your eyes for ever on a present world. Should this narrative fall into the hands of any who are in the army, I would earnestly entreat them to lay the contents of ite seriously to heart, and to beware of the delusive idea that it is not needful to be religious in the army. Although you are soldiers, you are still surely under the govern- ment of your Creator. Your being in the army will not excuse the sins you commit in it. There is no article of war that commands you to swear, or to get drunk, or to be guilty of uncleanness, or any other sin. There is no order that prohibits you from repenting of your sins, and believing on the Lord Jesus Christ for the salvation of pur in- valuable souls, and living a life of faith upon the Son of God; so that you are without excuse. Your being in the army does not give you a greater security of long life to be an excuse for delay. On the contrary, you, above all men, ought to secure the salvation of your immortal souls. And blessed be God, that salvation is offered as freely to you as to others. Jesus, the King of kings, offers you his free and unmerited favour, in the same way that he does toothers; and makes you as welcome. Your souls are as precious to him, as those of any of the human race: so that you are without excuse, Beware of another delusion; — that the army is a place in which it is impossible to live a godly life. This is not true. However hard it is, yet it is possible, and has been done. If indeed you at- tempt to live a godly life in your own strength, as I did, you will fail; but remember, so would you in any situation in which you could be placed. But if you believe in the Lord Jesus, and take him for u righteousness and strength" he will fulfil to you his promise, that M as your day is, so shall your strength be." Remember that the way that Jeadeth to eternal life is a narrow way to all; and that the same grace which enables others to travel that narrow way is sufficient to enable you to travel it also; and that the same power which brings others safely through, is able to carry you also in safety to the end of the journey. Remem- ber that it is the power of God and not of man that enables any to persevere unto the end; and will you say that it is not in the power of the 213 Almighty to enable a soldier to serve him in the army, and to lead a Christian life in it? The idea is blasphemous; it is a delusion of Satan; and it is an unjust charge upon the army, bad as it is, and one of the greatest obstacles, if not the very greatest, to its moral improvement; for it goes to prevent the very attempt at improvement, as utterly hopeless, and consequently to leave the individuals who compose it to be confirmed in all their evil habits. If any soldier read this, let me beseech him to lay seriously to heart the immense value of his soul, and to believe in the grace and power of a Redeemer, and, although there should not be one godly person in his regiment, let him not be afraid to believe in Jesus, and to regulate his con- duct by his word. Do not be afraid of the mock- ing of your comrades: it is indeed not easy to bear; but if you really trust in Christ, he will enable you to live down their reproaches by a consistent and steady course of lite. Their re- proaches are not to be put in comparison with his smiles; and if the King of kings smiles upon you, what need you care who frowns? It will become you rather to pity, than to be offended at them. Seek, by constant prayer, for that prudence and wisdom which will enable you so to act as to put to silence their foolish scoffings; and, if you perse- vere, you will extort from them so much com- mendation as will repay you for all the reproaches you have borne, or may still be subject to. But let your faitli be constant and your practice per- severing. Do not take up religion by fits and starts. Those who do so show that they have not 214 yet understood what it is. Unless your repentance be that of the Bible, and your faith in Jesus genuine, arising from a scriptural understanding of your own character as a guilty and helpless sinner in the sight of God, and a scriptural dis- cernment of the rich grace and almighty power of Christ, you will not be able to stand: for the army is not a place for hypocrites, formalists, and self- righteous professors, to prosper in. The profes- sions of such will generally vanish like smoke. The genuine believer in Jesus alone is able to abide the trial; and he stands, because he is upheld by the power of God through faith unto salvation. Therefore, let no soldier neglect his salvation, through fear that the temptations of the army will be too much for him. Great as they are, if he trusts in Christ, he shall be made " more lhan a conqueror through him that loved him;" and the more he can get his comrades to attend to the same things, the temptations will diminish. And the more the religion of J»sus prevails in the army, and the greater the number of genuine dis- ciples are in it, the greater improvement will be made in its character, efficiency, and comfort. I rejoice that the army is beginning to be more attended to of late, in a religious point of view. I rejoice to see Bible Societies in operation for the benefit of the army and navy; and wish them an increasing measure of success. The attention of the religious world has not yet been sufficiently drawn to the importance of the object. I hope that the stimulus that has been put in motion will continue to increase, and that a succession of pru= dent measures will be adopted for the promotion of the fear of God in the army and navy. The same means that are effectual for the attainment of this great object amongst the other classes of mankind will be effectual here. And what a blessing would it be to the army and navy, were the fear of God their prevailing character! How would it promote subordination, peace, sobriety, and chastity, and, in so doing, prevent the fre- quency and necessity of punishments and rigorous regulations, and the prevalence of those diseases which break the constitutions of such numbers, renders them non-effectives, and sends so many of them to an early grave! — And how much benefit would instantly accrue to society, in the reduction of the contamination of profanity, intemperance, and lewdness! How many female characters would be preserved, and the consequent grief of parents prevented! How much of the evil of prosti- tution would it reduce, which is so dangerous to youth in sea-port towns, and large cities! If my feeble voice could be heard, I would add it to that of those who have already appeared as advocates of this cause, in supplicating British Christians to prosecute this object with prudent but vigorous perseverance. I rejoice to see a floating chapel provided upon the Thames for the instruction of seamen. This, I hope, will be followed by similar measures wherever they are necessary. The wis- dom that devised this, is competent to devise all that is wanting for the prosecution of this great cause, throughout the army and navy. And the same motives are sufficient to carrv those emoark- 216 ed in it forward with zeal until the fear of God finally triumph. And its triumph in the army and navy will remove one of the obstacles to its pre- valence in the world. And who knows but that genuine piety may not only prevail but even shine most conspicuously in the army and navy, and that the last may become first. G.B. THE END \5 oi>. II HI 020 662 051 1