He frequently called upon me during the continuance of the regiment in my neighbourhood, and every succeeding interview gave me fresh proofs of his religious attainments. At that time he was the only man in the regiment who made any profession of religion, and on that account was ridiculed and. despised by the greater part of his companions. this description, who have withstood that awful suspense between life and the temptations and opposition which death which a battle occasions. the present state of the military calling presents; and who have unremittingly persevered in the profession and practice of religion, notwithstanding the influence and persuasion of evil companions, nay, too often the threats and persecution of their officers. The trials to which those, who are more than usually concerned for the welfare of their souls, are exposed to from the ill-will and derision of the world, is well known, but few, if any, are placed under more trying circumstances than the religious soldier. The hatred, scorn, and persecution, which he generally meets with, is far greater than that which usually falls to the lot of religious people of the lower classes, who are placed in other situations of life. Shortly after the return of the Duke of York from Holland, one of the regiments, which had suffered very materially in the different engagements, was quartered in my parish. A private soldier called upon me one evening after divine service, with a request that I would explain a particular part of my discourse, which he had just heard, expressing, at the same time, much interest in the general subject of it. I found him to be a very well-informed man, of distinguished piety, and much religious knowledge. His language and address betrayed evident marks of strong natural sense, aided by an unu sual acquaintance with the word of God, and the operations of his grace upon the heart. From this man I received a most interesting detail of circumstances which occurred during the campaign in Holland, including a particular account of the temper and behaviour of many individuals before and during the heat of battle. Such anecdotes, from a sensible and pious man, I consider as very valuable; for although we are at no loss in obtaining minute details of military operations from various quarters, both public and private, yet the religious history of a battle is one not always to be procured. I may possibly take some future opportunity of communicating to you this good man's remarks on the state of his comrades during At length the regiment having nearly repaired, by fresh recruits, the loss sustained in Holland, was ordered to join a camp then forming, for the purpose of collecting troops for the Egyptian expedition, under the command of Sir Ralph Abercrombie. A few days before their departure, W, for that was his name, brought with him another private of the same regiment, who had expressed a particular desire to speak with me, but of whom he knew very little, except that in some of the engagements in Holland he had been observed voluntarily to seek danger, and needlessly to hazard his person, as if with a desperate resolution of ridding himself of life. On being introduced to me alone, the stranger said, that he hoped I should excuse the liberty he had taken of coming to request that I would purchase a small parcel which he had brought, in order to enable him to supply himself with a few necessaries preparatory to his voyage to Egypt, as he had no other means of raising a little money. He was a tall young man, of a dark sun-burnt countenance, having something in his aspect, speech, and address, which struck me as being above his present appearance. opening his parcel, which he did not do without some confusion, it proved to consist of some clergyman's bands, one or two religious books, and some manuscript sermons. "Sir,” said he, "you will hear with surprise, and I cannot mention it without some uneasiness, what I have for a long time concealed from every one around me, that I am in reality a brother clergyman, though now disguised in the habit of a common soldier. My father is a clergyman in Wales: he educated me On himself for the church, and procured me ordination, with a title to a curacy at ———, in the county of W: my name is E-. I continued upon that cure three years, during which time, I am sorry to say, through much im prudence and inattention to the decorum which suited my character, I contracted several debts which I had neither means nor prospect of paying. Fearing disgrace and imprisonment, and knowing my father's inability to assist me, I quitted the town, and formed the resolution of enlisting as a soldier, which I shortly afterwards did, and was soon sent on the expedition to Holland, whence I lately returned. That you may have no doubts as to the truth of my story, which may possibly induce you to sympathize with a brother clergyman in distress, I will shew you several letters and papers which, when you have read, I trust you will give me credit for the truth of my relation." He also wrote some sentences in my presence, which proved his handwriting to be the same with that of the manuscript sermons he had requested me to purchase. On examining the letters, (some of which were from his father, expostulating with him on his extravagance ;) and putting a variety of questions to him, I felt fully satisfied as to the truth of his story. I was greatly concerned at what he had related, and began to enter into a close and friendly expostulation with him on the inconsistency of his present situation with the sacred profession to which he was bound by ties the most indissoluble: I urged the duty of his endeavouring to return, if possible, to the discharge of his ministerial duties with a mind influenced and improved by the experience of past hardships and misfortunes. As he did not appear disposed to follow this advice, I brought forward, with much earnestness, every argument which Scripture or reason suggested to my mind on the subject, and begged that he would permit me to endeavour to procure his discharge from the army, by a representation of his case to the Duke of York. Although he spoke to me with much civility, and thanked me for my Christ. Observ. No. 12. advice, and the offer I had made, yet I was sorry to perceive a great reluctance on his part to avail himself of my counsel, and but little appearance of remorse for what had past: he talked like a man weary of the world, who had no desire to continue in it, and no hope of sustaining a respectable character in it; it was plain that no impression of a religious kind had been made upon his mind. The peculiarity of his situation, and the occasion of his coming, led him, at the same time, to pay attention to what I said. I entered into a long conversation with him on the nature and design of Christianity in general, as well as of the pastoral office in particular, examined him as to his views of the doctrines of the Gospel, and explained my own to him very fully: I entreated him to take what I had said in good part, and urged him, by every sacred consideration, to act the part which it appeared to me his duty and interest to adopt. He said but little in reply, and almost declined saying any more. I therefore purchased his little parcel, gave him a couple of books, and dismissed him with a blessing, once more entreating him to lay to heart what I had said. In two days the regiment went away, nor did I see either W——, or Mr. E- before their departure. A circumstance of so singular a nature frequently occupied my thoughts afterwards, and whenever I wore the bands which I had purchased from Mr. E, I felt an increased interest in his behalf. From that time, till the return of our troops from Egypt, I had no opportunity of hearing any thing res pecting him, except that a clergyman of his name had certainly officiated at the town which he had specified, a few years since: this I learned from a native of the place. In June last my old acquaintance W called upon me, and said he was just arrived from Egypt, and had a great deal to say to me. With the same excellence of heart and head, as he had testified on every former occasion, he entered into a clear and satisfactory account of the events of the Egyptian expedition, describing, in a 5 G very affecting manner, the outward endeavours. We derived much benefit hardships and dangers he had encoun- from these meetings. Mr. E-, in tered, as well as the inward consolation particular, expressed himself highly and support which he had derived from delighted by such a profitable mode the power of religion on his mind. of passing those hours which in our line of life are too generally devoted to drinking, debauchery, and profaneness. In his confidential conversations with me, he frequently mentioned your name, and shewed me the substance of your friendly advice to him, which he had from memory committed to paper. "I have now," continued he, "a story to relate which I am certain you will feel a deep concern in. You, without doubt, "remember that young clergyman whom I brought to your house the year before last, the Reverend Mr. E. At that time I knew very little of him; he, however, shortly after we had left you, observed, with some emotion, that what you said to him had made more impression upon his mind than any thing he had ever heard in the course of his life. He then made me also acquainted with his history, to which I was before a stranger. From that day I was confined in the hospital with a fever, and did not see him again before our departure for Egypt. We embarked on board of different ships; if was not, therefore, till our arrival at Malta that we met together. Mr. E took an immediate opportunity of saying, 'W- -, I have long wished to see you, I want to tell you how greatly indebted I feel to that dear friend of yours at I can never forget him his words made a deep impression on my heart,, and I trust, by the blessing of God, they will yet make a still deeper." I found on conversing with him, that since I saw him he had become affect ed with a deep sense of his spiritual danger, and by meditation and secret prayer during the voyage, had acquired much insight into religion. He shewed strong marks of penitence, and gave a favourable hope of an important change having taken place in his views and dispositions. I was always happy to find, on the reassembling of the regiment after the voyage, that among the recruits were a few very seriously disposed. Mr. E and myself soon formed a little religious society amongst them, which gradually increased to the number of twenty-four: we met as often as possible to read the Bible together, converse on the concerns of eternity, and unite in prayer to Almighty God for his blessing on our "When we arrived on the coast of Africa, Mr. E and myself were in the same boat at the time of our landing at Aboukir. Throughout the whole of the tremendous fire which, for a considerable time, the French artillery kept upon us, I observed great coolness and patient fortitude in his countenance. His deportment was very different from what I had seen when we served together in Holland. At that time he always appeared desperate and careless; now I thought I could perceive a courage blended with humility, which evidently proceeded from a much more exalted source. We both, by the mercy of God, escaped unhurt on that day. Our little society continued its meetings as regularly as the trying circumstances of our situation would permit. Mr. E. was three or four times en gaged with the enemy afterwards, and always behaved both before and during the battle with much steady, and I may call it, godly courage. of March, our whole society met toge"On the evening preceding the 21st ther. Mr. E -said, in the presence of the rest, I cannot account for the strong impression which has seized event of to morrow's engagement: no my mind, that I shall not survive the such prepossession ever occupied my thoughts on any former occasion, I feel, therefore, strongly affected by this; but if it be thy will, O God, thy will be done! We then united in prayer together for him, for ourselves, and for all our brethren in arms, beseeching God to prepare us for the awful trial, and give us grace either to meet death with joyful hope, or to receive his sparing mercy, if our lives should be preserved, with gratitude. Knowing the importance of the next day's battle, and the little chance we stood of all meet- sented as a law of candour, not to charge ing again in this world, we embraced another with any consequences of his each other with peculiar attachment, opinions, which he chooses to disclaim. and mutual recommendation to the God And this sentiment is recommended by of battle and the preserver of souls. the easy introduction which it procures Oh, Sir! it was a happy, but trying for principles, which if attended with season to us; I saw Mr. E an hour their apparent, perhaps their necessary before the horrors of that bloody day consequences, would probably meet commenced; his words were, Pray with some resistance. On the other earnestly for me, and if I am killed, hand, when men conceive themselves and you should be spared, give my last to have an interest in the degradation blessing to our worthy and dear friend or destruction of any principles, they at; tell Mr., continued he, generally act as if they considered it 'that I owe him more than worlds can lawful to charge their adversary with repay he first opened my heart to con- all the consequences, which, with the viction, and God has blessed it to re- least shew of reason, can be deduced pentance through the unspeakable from his opinion. So flexible a rule mercies of Christ, I can die with com- cannot be just and upon a subject of fort.' such importance, we stand in need of a guide upon which we can depend. "After the severe engagement which followed, wherein the brave Abercrombie fell, according to agreement, our little society met. Every life was spared except that of poor Mr. E-, whose head was taken off by a cannon ball at an early period of the action. Such was the will of God. Whilst, therefore, we returned hearty thanks for our preservation, we blessed God's goodness for sparing the life of our departed brother, till by a lively exercise of faith and repentance, as we had every reason to trust, God had made him his own. I now also bless God, that I have had this opportunity of seeing and relating to you a story, which I know you rejoice to hear."" Without farther comment, Mr. Editor, I send you the above relation, which I have committed to writing with as much faithfulness and accuracy as I am able. L. R. For the Christian Observer. ON THE RESPONSIBILITY OF MEN FOR THE THE question under what circumstances It must then be premised that the subject here to be discussed, is not the necessary consequences of opinions; for to call them necessary, is to beg the question, and to decide the matter at once. Neither are the consequences into which we now propose to inquire apparent only. For then nothing would remain but to detect the sophistry which unjustly deduces them. The present subject of inquiry is much larger and much more important. It comprises all those consequences which may be denominated rational. But as upon this term the whole of the ensuing reasoning will depend, it is necessary to explain with accuracy in what sense it is used. It is not then meant to describe a consequence which is rational upon the whole; for then there would be little difference between a rational and a necessary consequence. But it is intended to signify such a consequence as is deduced by the most legitimate ratiocination; the particular principle alone being considered from which the consequence is derived. this sense, universal happiness is a consequence rationally deducible from the divine goodness. In Now to determine in what cases men are chargeable with the rational consequences of their opinions, the subject of those opinions, or the degree of knowledge which we possess concerning it, must be considered. Upon the nature and extent of human knowledge, the decision will entirely rest. Perfect ignorance and perfect knowledge are here, for obvious reasons, equally out of the question. But the intermediate space is vastly extended; and between the highest and the lowest degrees of human knowledge, there is a very considerable distance. For the purposes of the present argument, it will be sufficiently accurate to divide the province of human knowledge into two parts; the first of which comprehends those subjects which are beyond the reach of our faculties, and of which our knowledge is consequently imperfect; the second relates to those subjects, which may be represented as ly ing within the sphere of our comprehension, and concerning which we may attain a considerable degree of knowledge. On subjects confessedly beyond the reach of human comprehension, we ought not to be made accountable for the consequences, which nevertheless, we cannot deny to be rationally deducible from our principles; unless the connection of the one with the other be matter of certain knowledge or of highly probable inference. And we are exempted from the necessity of admitting such consequences, and of being accountable for them, in all cases in which the degree of evidence derived to them from their original principle is over balanced by a greater degree of evidence arising from some other source. It was represented as a rational inference or consequence from the divine goodness, that universal happiness should prevail. It will be readily acknowledged, that of all subjects, the nature and operations of God, both from their sublimity and their magnitude, are the farthest removed from the comprehension of man. The information concerning this subject, which reason and revelation afford, is far from being perfect. The general knowledge, however, which we derive from these, sources, is certain; and so likewise are many important particulars conveyed to us by the same means. Nevertheless, divine science is not systematically communicated. We do not behold it in all its relations and consequences. It resembles the information which we receive from credible authority, of a foreign country; in which the operations of nature are so different from what passes under our own experience, that our inferences from the known to the unknown phenomena, are almost totally precarious. How far this is the case in divine subjects, will be apparent, when we consider that the rational consequence, from the divine goodness, of universal happiness, is directly contradicted by the most certain evidence of experience-by plain and palpable fact. Not only the goodness, but the wisdom and power of the Divine Being, obliges us to infer the non-existence of evil. Nevertheless, in the portion of the universe with which we are concerned, we see evil, both moral and natural, abound. What then is our conduct? Do we deny the divine perfections? Do we give up the evidence of experience and our senses? No: we acknowledge both the one and the other; but we acknowledge them to be irreconcileable.* This is an instance full to the point. It establishes, in the most decisive manner, the position, that cases may exist, in which we are entitled to the privilege of holding the principle, and yet disclaiming the consequence. For in proportion as any case approaches to that which has been mentioned, so far is the same conduct admissible. Under this description, therefore, is obviously included the case of those, who consider themselves justified in uniting the belief of the absolute dependence of man upon divine freedom in rational agents, as renders grace, with that of such a degree of them responsible for their actions. Yet from these two principles may be derived by a process, the legitimacy of which cannot be disputed, consequenother. For it is easy to perceive, that ces diametrically opposite to each were it not for the controul which these two principles mutually exercise over each other, the natural conclusion from the first would be, that man is a mere The methods by which some have attempted to account for the origin of evil, reminds Mathematicians, that nothing divided by nothing, one of the opinion held by several eminent may produce something. |