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.