the Danes might have taken them for friends and allies, instead of hostile troops. Even after the surrender of Copenhagen, we were not quartered in it for some days; the Danish troops remaining in possession of all the gates but that which was connected with the citadel. No interference took place with respect to the police, or any other internal regulation of the city, and every thing was done to tranquillize the public mind: but all was in vain to reconcile the Danish Government or people to the bombardment of the capital, and the seizure of their fleet in time of peace. As might have been foreseen, the outrage was deemed intolerable: it is true they were plundered with comparative politeness,-nobody hurt them when their treasures were given up; still that did not alter the character of the transaction: it conferred honour upon the agencies employed, who might, without any special departure from the laws of war, have added fierceness to bravery, and wasted what they did not want. But the national spirit of the Danes was roused to unquenchable indignation; they considered themselves the victims of lawless freebooters, superior to themselves only in brute force, and infinitely inferior in every thing else. Under feelings excited by these galling considerations war was proclaimed between Denmark and Great Britain.

Every one will readily believe, that, notwithstanding the good behaviour of their visiters, the Danes were by no means enamoured with our company, and not a little pleased when preparations were made for departure. We had caused great injury to several of the finest erections in the city; had thrown down the steeple of one of the best churches; had created an entire suspension of commerce for a wearisome season; and having collected as much naval property as we could grasp, and more than we could carry, were getting it on board the captured vessels with as much

deliberation and order as if nothing more were in hand than a regular shipment of purchased merchandise. The design of the expedition having been fully executed, the troops were re-embarked towards the end of October. On observing the signal for sailing, the whole of the fleet prepared to weigh, and stand out to sea; and when under sail, the almost interminable line of shipping presented an extensive and magnificent spectacle. The first part of the homeward voyage was performed under favourable circumstances; but on nearing the English coast, the weather, which had been fine, became rough and boisterous. Soon after we came in sight of land, the regiment to which I belonged, for reasons with which I am unacquainted, was shifted from the vessel we had occupied, to the Sirion, of seventy-four guns, one of the Danish prizes; and though so near our destined port, we were exposed to danger, greater perhaps than any we had hitherto experienced. There were on board, beside the crew, seven companies of the 43d, amounting to nearly as many hundred men. Just at midnight, during a gale of wind, when all were wrapt in security, and the greater part in slumber, the ship struck on a sand-bank. The shock was excessively violent. Alarmed by the concussion, which was attended by an ominous straining of the timbers, an immediate rush was made by the soldiers below to gain the main deck. To prevent this dangerous intrusion the hatches were secured, and a strong guard appointed to keep them from being forced. The confusion and contention that prevailed among such a body of resolute men, cooped up in their berths between decks, and with the consciousness of danger, which they were not even permitted to view, may be conceived, but not easily described. To increase our alarm, the foremast went over with several men in the top, one of whom fell on the shank of an anchor, and was killed. By

the mercy of God we were after all preserved. Several of the most active soldiers, among whom I was one, were eventually ordered to assist the crew, whose exertions were beyond all praise. The damaged rigging and running tackle were all repaired; we contrived, under the direction of the ship's officer, to elevate a jury mast, and exhibit canvas that answered the purpose of a foresail; and though in a shattered condition, we had the happiness, assisted by a favourable breeze, to feel the ship glide over the shoal, and swing into deep water. On the following day, the sailor who lost his life by falling from the fore-top was committed to the deep. The body was carefully enclosed in a blanket, and placed on an oblong grating, to each end of which two round shot were lashed. The sea-service for the burial of the dead was then performed with great solemnity; immediately after which, the grating was lowered from the ship's side, and, being heavily weighted, sunk with the velocity of a stone. We landed in safety at Yarmouth, on the first day of December, and marched without loss of time into the barracks, where all traces of our recent perils and exposure to sudden mortality were soon forgotten, or remembered only for

amusement.

Having saved a little money, I was soon able to furnish myself with such extra articles of necessity and convenience as appeared desirable to a young man just returned to his native shore, and aiming to appear respectable. But, alas! I regret to state, that my ambition was not limited to things altogether needful. Surrounded by evil examples, I became an easy prey to vicious men and their sinful practices. Prodigal of cash, while it lasted, the earnings of many a watchful, hard-fought day were speedily dispersed; and among other considerations which now occur to my mind, I am amazed that at the season of life now described,

although just escaped almost miraculously from the jaws of death, not the smallest sense of gratitude to the Almighty seemed to enter the minds either of my comrades or myself. That this acknowledgment is discreditable to myself, I am sensible; but since such was the fact, and I am determined to represent things as they really were,-it must not be suppressed merely for the purpose of putting a gloss upon conduct essentially wrong. I shall not stoop even to concealment : the advice of old Herbert is homely, but sound,

"Dare to be true; nothing can need a lie:

The fault that needs it most, grows two thereby." Subsequent reflection upon the debased condition of my mind at that time has shown me, and my experience has borne out the fact, that man by nature is spiritually insensible, and in a condition that exactly verifies the declaration of holy writ. His soul is touched with an iceberg. The faculties are chained down by invincible ignorance. There is a moral chaos within; through every power darkness and confusion reign with total absence of form and order. In the more emphatic language of inspiration, he is "dead in trespasses and sins," nor can an archangel's voice awaken or revive him. But when the Spirit of truth shall descend, the frozen heart shall melt, and flow down before the Lord in streams of contrition and obedience. Equally sure am I, that no power less than divine can effect the change alluded to. Reason can do many things: it may distinguish right from wrong, and can prove the truths on which the distinction rests. But the knowledge of good and evil is one thing; power to choose the former and reject the latter is another; and without pretending to unusual research, I fearlessly affirm and challenge refutation, that spiritual influence, and that alone, is sufficient to overcome the spiritual malady of the hu

man race.

Man does not want his heart to be merely mended, it must be renewed. To attempt the repair of bad principles is wide of the mark: that would be like decorating the outside of a building, the rottenness of whose timbers betokens the nearness of its fall. All such trash and lumber must be cleared away they seldom pay even for stowage, and the safer way is to carry them out of sight. A new foundation must be laid, based on firmer ground, and constructed with better materials. Old things must pass away, and all things become new. Principles are to be engrafted which had no previous existence; and this decisive and comprehensive reformation, which is not to be viewed as an accessory or appendage to religion, but as its leading feature, constitutes the chief difference between refinement in morals, and actual conversion to God. Some apology is perhaps due for thus breaking out into meditations instead of pursuing my narrative: all I have to offer is, that, reflecting on the goodness of God, I cannot refrain from exulting in the change I have myself experienced, grounded on the sacred verities just described. Feeling myself invigorated by the review, perhaps others may share in the privilege, and rejoice in possession of the same hope. Travelling through the great and terrible wilderness of this world, I gather solace from such recollections, and go forward. The retrospect is like an oasis in the desert; a beautiful green spot, amid the aridity of desolating barrenness, verdant as the garden of the Lord, and refreshing as the dew of Hermon.

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