Chapter VII

After a pleasant passage, having light winds and fine weather, we arrived at Malta on the 23d October. 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 Malta, where we now lay, was to be given up. We did not leave Malta until the 26th November, at which delay the soldiers were vexed; but the naval officers were no way anxious to get home, because they knew that the ship would be paid off, and they would then lose their situations. Our own officers were apprehensive that the regiment might be reduced, which would put them on half pay; but the men rejoiced in the prospect.[33] We had a tedious passage down the Mediterranean, and did not arrive at Gibraltar until the 20d 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 increased 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 baggage, yet the travelling from the places where the baggage halted 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 I was one.

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 conscience, 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 temptation. 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 for 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 Company'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; I might have gone into York Hospital 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 goodness and care over me while in the army, in a particular not before referred to. For during the six years that I was a soldier, I was never confuted 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, for 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 remaining 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 proposed 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 graciously 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 I thought I would be strongest, there I found I was weakest; and, when removed from outward temptation, inward corruption increased, and baffled 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 I was a slave to sin; for 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 mercies I had received, and the promises and resolutions 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 became too heavy for me; the justice of God stared me in the face; and now I saw that I was a condemned criminal. I gave over all hope of obtaining 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 was what 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 that deliverance I could not tell. I saw by the Scriptures, that "unless a man be born again, he 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 furnished my conscience with new matter of accusation. In perusing Boston's "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 understand what it was to be "apprehended of Christ," and united to the vine, it only increased my uneasiness. 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 increasingly 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 of me_!" I was agitated almost to despair; all that prevented me from falling into it was the consideration that I was yet in life, and that God had 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 not be described. My convictions 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 procure his favour, or to recompense him for it, should he bestow it; and that if I was saved from endless 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 I had heard my 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. Ewing, 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 affected me, until you gave out your text, 1 Cor. ii. 2. "For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ and him crucified."--I was struck with the text, and became 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 had preached from it the preceding sabbath, and having recapitulated what you had 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 began 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 Christ being perfect, nothing 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 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 also 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, "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 impious to attempt it, how guilty have I been!"--My whole train of repentances, promises, resolutions, and attempted reformations, has not only been sinful 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 a level with his, nay, above his; seeking to merit God's favour by my own doings; and when doubting of their complete sufficiency, having recourse to the merits of Christ, merely to make up the deficiency of mine; and even this, not from voluntary choice, but from a feeling of necessity. This was a new source of guilt to my conscience, which had never burdened it before. I began to apprehend I had been guilty of the sin of unbelief, so often spoken of in the Scriptures, and so strongly 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 increased, the stronger my sense of the sin of unbelief grew. These two things kept pace with one another: 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 seemed to outweigh them all, so that I became increasingly 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 compared 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 compared them together. All the drift of my thoughts, 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 sermons. One of them was particularly blessed to me. It was an evening sermon from Matth. iii. 17. "And lo, a voice from heaven, which said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." The moment the text was read, I catched the words, "_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 followed 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[34] from Heb. iii. 14. "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 constrained 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 acceptance with God, both now and hereafter, solely upon _his_ perfect righteousness, and complete atonement; and to commit my 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 Contentment, 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 overcome 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 excellency 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 righteousness 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,--What is the proper form of church government?--I had been made a little acquainted with the claims of 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 referred 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 interest, until he had gone through the fifteenth chapter. I then embraced his opinions on that subject; and, feeling the want of Christian fellowship, I determined to make present conviction the rule of present 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 application, 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, and my case was to be mentioned 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 receiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life eternal; 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 your care, for admission, than to Mr. Ewing's. I determined to consider this point, and wrote to Mr. Ewing, requesting him to delay mentioning my case to his church, as something had occurred to my mind, which it appeared to be my duty previously 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 spiritual father; and, as we were of one mind on matters 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 reaped 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 peculiar 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 preached it; but I now found leisure to give them a place, 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 Shepherd 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 I 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 enlarged; but before bringing it to a close I wish to make a few general remarks.

I would begin with stating, that the belief of that doctrine which gave peace to my troubled conscience, 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 have 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 I rejoice in the possession of the new man, I have still to mourn the existence of the old; I find in my experience increasing evidence of the deceitfulness and desperate wickedness of the heart, and see increasing reason 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 "fulfil in me all the good pleasure of his goodness, and the work of faith with power," and "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 pastoral care and instructions. It is now about sixteen years since I first heard you preach, and became a member of the church under your ministry. 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 fellowship; and while I love all who preach Christ crucified, as the only ground of a sinner's acceptance 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 rejoicing 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 converting 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 increasing success in turning sinners to God, and in edifying saints; may he bless the labours of all his servants 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 WARDLAW.

Footnote 33:

The short duration of the peace, however, prevented the fulfilment of
it.

Footnote 34:

Then assistant to Mr. Ewing; now minister of the congregation in Crown
Court, London.

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.

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 providence; 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 answer to my prayers for mercy:--yet all these put together were insufficient to keep me from breaking 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 blindness; and, as he proceeds, he will find that he was not aware of the ten thousandth part of the extent and difficulty of the task. If he persevere in it, he will find it necessary, after endeavouring to reform 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 conduct: for it is the heart that first yields to temptation. 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 temptations only; for although he were in the retirement of a hermit, and totally secluded from the world, he would find temptations to sin rising spontaneously out of _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 conscience; thus giving him the most convincing evidence, if he had eyes to see it, that "the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked;" (Jer. xvii. 9.) that "he that committeth 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. O that I could convince any into whose hands this narrative may fall, to renounce, as entirely hopeless, all such efforts; and also as entirely worthless, all such attempted reformations; and to flee to the all-mighty and all-meritorious 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 obedience that alone can enable you to walk with steadfastness and consistency, arises out of the belief of the love of Christ, in giving himself a ransom for the guilty. The belief of this will inspire you with love to him in return; and this, and this alone, will set your souls at liberty from the slavery of sin. It is to those who believe the love that he manifested in freely giving himself a sacrifice for them, that he imparts strength to resist temptation; 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 addressed, declared, that "he could do all things through Christ who strengthened him;" and the way in which he obtained the power was, by being conscious 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 Saviour is unchangeable; "the 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 Saviour. 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 continuing 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, "To-day if ye will hear my voice, harden not your hearts:" he says, "Come unto me, all 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. Jesus is as able to-day as to-morrow. He offers himself to-day. His salvation is a present salvation. "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 repentance 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 _now_, 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, when 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 wish to recover, that you may change your conduct; 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 despair, and die without hope: or, in order to calm a troubled conscience, you may persuade yourselves, 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 "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 it 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 government 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 your invaluable 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 to others; 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 attempt 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 "righteousness and _strength_," he will fulfil to you his promise, that "as your day is, so shall your strength be." Remember that the way that leadeth 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. Remember 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 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 conduct by his word. Do not be afraid of the mocking 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 life. _Their_ reproaches 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 persevere, you will extort from them so much commendation as will repay you for all the reproaches you have borne, or may still be subject to. But let your faith be constant and your practice persevering. Do not take up religion by fits and starts. Those who do so show that they have not 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 discernment 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 professions 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 than 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 Jesus prevails in the army, and the greater the number of genuine disciples 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 prudent 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 frequency 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 prostitution 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 wisdom 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 carry those embarked 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 prevalence 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.

Transcriber's Notes:

Archaic and colloquial spelling and punctuation was retained.

Missing or obscured punctuation was corrected.

Footnotes have been collected at the end of the text, and are linked for ease of reference. Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).

Footnotes have been moved to follow the chapters in which they are referenced.