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to hear of their death, and to view my own poor emaciated frame. All I saw and heard only distressed me; I thought it impossible I could recover; and again the subjects of death and judgment seized upon my mind in a way not to be shaken off. The still quiet of a hospital was favourable to meditation. Here no turbulent sea scenes intruded to prevent reflection, or to divert the mind from its object. My thoughts might, therefore, be considered as more regular and settled than they ever yet had been. The reader may here see what were the hopes and fears of one, who, on a bed of sickness, and in the prospect of death, knew not the only true God, nor Jesus Christ whom he hath sent. And O! that some poor deluded mortal may, in the review of my case, be led to see a picture of his own, and to fly to that Saviour, of whom I knew nothing at the period I now allude to! For it is but too true, that many in every parish, in every ship, and in every grade and rank of society, are in much the same condition. At least I have been surprised and distressed at the numbers I have, since that period, become acquainted with, whose views and hopes have been an exact counterpart of these my own. Although I was totally ignorant of the system or plan of salvation by grace through faith in a crucified Redeemer, I still remembered and believed certain doctrines and historical facts of the Bible: such as that there was a heaven and a hell; that after death came the judgment; and that the dead would be judged according to the things written in the books concerning them; that God created and had once destroyed the world; that Jesus Christ was born of a virgin, and suffered death at the

hands of the Jews, &c. But these doctrines and facts brought no consolation, I still conceived of the Almighty as a being unamiable, austere, and full of terror. I saw nothing, I knew nothing of him as a God who delighteth in mercy. I felt no desire after heaven for its own sake; for I knew nothing of its nature, as revealed in Scripture; nor had I the smallest conception of that meekness or preparation of soul which is essential towards its enjoyment. All I can say is, that some vague notions floated in my mind of its inhabitants being happy. But such were my low ideas of their felicity, that my desires to join them were, not that I should be filled with joy unspeakable and full of glory in their company, but that I should be secure from the punishments of hell, if I once obtained an entrance into heaven. The point and centre of all my anxiety was this: how I might make out a case that would pass the dread examination, and secure me from the wrath to come. Though my conscience was too callous to charge me with any heinous sins, yet, on the whole, I thought God was angry with me, and that I had not been good enough to be esteemed one of his favourites; for I considered that all who went to heaven were admitted thither in consequence of their having deserved it, and that they had, by their own meritorious deeds, made themselves favourites with the Lord Almighty. I could not, I say, rank myself among these, yet I never lost sight of what I had first conceived the necessity of doing, namely, that of making out my case as fair as possible. To this end I looked within and without, to muster together all the good, or rather supposed good things I could, if

happily they might become more than a counterpoise to my bad deeds. Little, indeed, could I find to approve of, though I strove hard in the work, dissembling and cloaking my sins from myself, as though the Searcher of hearts would overlook what I endeavoured to conceal; as though the sentiments of my Judge must necessarily run parallel with my own; and that if I could but bring myself in not guilty, he would confirm the sentence. But this, of course, was utter childishness, and ignorance of the Scriptures, such as, thank God, every boy and girl now in my Sabbath school would smile at; but it was the best I then knew of those important things that are to guide us to an eternal world of happiness or misery. O, lamentable ignorance! melancholy delusion! fruitless labour! From my soul I do now pity that man and woman, who, in the prospect of death, lies deep in thought, in fixed and serious thoughts of another world, and are thus vainly labouring to comfort themselves, since nothing but present wretchedness and future misery can be the result. When I had thus foolishly laboured, as it were, in the fire, to compose my mind, and had sometimes almost succeeded in deceiving myself, suddenly my fears would rekindle, and again fill my soul with all the anxiety, arising from the suggestion: "What if all your good deeds, when weighed in the balance, should be found wanting!"

In a few days I borrowed a Prayer-book, and turning from page to page, read as for hire, and thought I thereby made myself better. But all was comfortless work; my eyes ached, my hands trembled, but my anxiety was not relieved. At length I came to the Visitation Ser

vice and Prayers for the Sick and Dying: and never did poor superstitious monk work through his beads with more labour and ignorance than I did through these evangelical prayers. Yet not a sentence broke on my mind to give the smallest light of the Gospel method of salvation. "Wash his soul, we pray thee, in the blood of that immaculate Lamb that was slain to take away the sins of the world," &c., with other petitions of a similar nature, were read over and over again without my discovering the least knowledge of, or being in any way struck with the important doctrine contained in them.

Not once did I ask, whether my soul were washed in that blood; not once did I enquire why it needed to be washed. The fact is, I had not the smallest conception either of the thing itself, or of the necessity of a personal interest in it. All my hopes rested on my own worthiness: all my disquietude arose from the fear of punishment, not from a hatred of sin, or a sense of the much abused mercy of a good and gracious God. And no sooner did my strength begin to return, than my terrors and my readings were gradually lost sight of; until at the end of one month, I rejoined the ship as ignorant of myself and divine things as when I left her, though, perhaps, with somewhat more of a tender conscience and teachableness of mind.

But the time drew near when a ray of light was to dawn on a benighted soul. My friend, Captain Wwas blessed with a pious daughter, who, on the father's quitting home to command this ship, had put up Burders Village Sermons in his trunk, with the hope, and no doubt with the prayer, that they might not go forth

in vain. That hope, as it respected the poor thoughtless father, was not realized. I knew him well: I saw him die. He quitted this world in much the same state as many thousands of our more decent characters depart, ignorant of his own heart and of the spirituality of the divine law. There were no bonds, neither were there any hopes in his death. But, although these little volumes lay unread by him for whom they were principally intended, the good providence of God directed them to me, and commissioned them to dispel a portion of mental darkness, and to show me "that God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him might not perish, but have everlasting life!" The sermon on the conversion of the Philippian Jailor, Acts xvi. 30, 31. "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" and they said, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved," was the first discourse that ever broke on my mind so as to impart one distinct and scriptural ray of the plan of salvation. Amazed and confounded at my former ignorance, I felt some thankfulness that the Lord had not called me hence in my former heathen creed; for I now saw that there must be a peace-maker to stand between offending man and an offended God. Yet there was a strange veil still over my eyes. For, notwithstanding I read the two volumes attentively, and also turned often to the Bible, I continued ignorant of many essential truths. The natural and universal depravity of the human heart, the necessity of regeneration, and the insufficiency of man to will or perform any thing truly good of himself, were doctrines I saw no more of than a heathen;

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