The retrospect; or, Review of providential mercies : with anecdotes of various characters

Front matter

A

LIBRARY

OF THE

Preface

TO

THE FIFTEENTH EDITION.

Since the first edition of this little work, the writer has often been rebuked for not extending his narratives of others, and has as often been requested to communicate more circumstances connected with himself. To these rebukes and solicitations he continued to turn a deaf ear, from what he now believes to be mistaken motives. While lately doubting these motives, he cast his eyes on the title page, and read, " The Re" trospect ; or, Review of Providential Mercies, t^cJ* and his mind was considerably affected. Yes, he said, these pages are a retrospective glance at a few events which marked a limited portion of my days. With gratitude and surprise I perceive that fourteen editions of these humble tales

IV PREFACE.

have gone into the world, and with sorrow and confusion I have to confess, that nothing has been added to the original matter. His conscience smote him ; a voice seemed to ask, " Have you, during all this period, recollected nothing more of the Lord's goodness and mercy, either before you embarked on the sea, or while you were there ? And has nothing transpired during all the years that have fled since you wound up your Retrospect, worthy of being recorded to the praise of the riches of divine grace ?" He paused, reflected, and felt himself condemned in that he had not made known some more circumstances connected with himself and with others, as well before he embarked, and while he was afloat, as since he had quitted a maritime life. Under these impressions he resumed his pen, and not only added various paragraphs to several of the original tales, but also drew up the nine additional Chapters, which in this edition are numbered as I, XH, XIV, XV, XVI, XVIII, XIX, XX, and XXI.

To such readers as were interested with the work in its former size and limited range, it is hoped and believed that this enlarged edition will

PREFACE. V

prove acceptable. If, in these additional chapters, the writer has detailed many little things concerning himself, it has been, he can most solemnly declare, with the view of glorifying God, and of encouraging his readers to attempt Buch-like duties whenever Providence may throw them within their reach. That such may be the result, he most sincerely prays ; while at the same time he would praise and adore that condescending grace which has gone with the former editions so greatly beyond all his hopes and expectations.

What was stated in the former preface may here be repeated, namely, that the reader must not look for a regular and unbroken history, either of the state of the writer's mind, or of all the events which made up the years under review. For even in this enlarged edition the chapters convey but a partial, and often an unconnected account of both ; and these, not unfrequently interspersed with other matters. System has never, in this work, been any part of his plan, and must not be looked for by the reader. His aim and desire have rather been so to consti'uct each chapter, that of itself it might pro- 1*

VI PREFACE.

duce some facts and reflections, which, by the blessing of God, would exhibit proofs of the mercy and kind providences of heaven as continually attending on, and over-ruling the events of human Hfe, and all the affairs of men ; that so in this, as in all things, God might be glorified through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom be praise and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.

R. M.

THE

RETROSPECT

Chapter I

"foolishness 19 BOUND IN THE HEART OF A CHILD." Prov. xxii. 15.

Yes, and such ^^ foolishness^^ as constitutes sin; for, be it remembered, that the terms ^'- fooV and ^^ foolishness^ are employed in holy writ to convey a meaning far more solemn and emphatic than is now generally attached to them. The "/ooZ" is, in fact, one who wilfully disobeys or denies the authority of God ; and ^^ foolishness" means that innate self-will, and propensity to, and delight in disobedience to the divine commands, which we find in the heart of every unrenewed child of Adam. Hence, it is one of the great and gracious works of the Holy Spirit, in regenerating mankind, to supplant this "foolishness," and to make them wise unto salvation, by a heart-purifying faith in Jesus Christ, a faith which works by love, and constrains to a willing and unreserved obedience. Thus does the rod of divine correction and mercy drive it out ; and no sooner is this work accomplished, than the subject of so necessary and momentous a transformation, stands forth a wonder unto many, and still more, a wonder unto himself! From an elevation in mental and spiritual attainments, he now looks back on all the way the Lord hath led him, and sees how, through all the days of his childhood and youth, of his manhood and old age, this " folly" maintained its hold on his heart ; and now he feels, beyond the power of words to express, that nothing short of infinite mercy and goodness preserved him from a thousand destructions of body and of soul, into which " this foolishness" was continually hurrying him.

Through all, which recollection can now bring forward of his own conduct, he sees cause for humiliation and confession of sin ; through all his review of the Divine proceedings towards him in past times, he can discover nothing but unmerited compassion, and unbounded goodness and mercy. If ever one poor soul needed and received the kind offices of those angels who are the Lord's minis-* tering servants unto the heirs of salvation, he feels assured that he himself has been that individual, and still continues to be so. There are, however, some events to which his recollections will turn with more than ordinary feeling of interest ; because, in them the superintending providence of God will be more distinctly seen than in others. Such were two that occurred before I embarked on the rude and dangerous ocean ; the first to which I shall allude took place when I was quite a lad. From my earliest days I had felt a strong partiality for the water, for boisterous sports, and exploits with gunpowder, and, in short, for deeds of thoughtless mischief and dangerous enterprize. In these things I reaped my harvest of what headstrong boys term happiness ; and in these pursuits my life was so frequently brought to the very edge of destruction, that, in the retrospect, I am truly astonished at the unwearied and ever watchful care of that God whose hand I then saw not, and whose goodness and mercy were alike unfelt and unknown. It was in the evening of a fine summer day, when an elderly matron aunt, who at that time was superintending the affairs of our family in the absence of that kind and beloved mother whom we had lately followed to the grave, invited myself and a younger brother to walk out for the enjoyment of the air.

As we had no rivers in our part of the country, our only bathing places were two large sheets of water, or ponds, in the fields. Our excursion that evening led into an inclosure, whose distant extremity bordered on the largest of these two favourite places ; the temptation was a powerful one, and my heart yielded so readily, that in defiance of threats and invitations, I ran off, and, although none of my companions or any individual were there, I stript and entered the water. I could not swim; but I seldom had visited these places of amusement without going chin-deep into them, a thing I had often done in this very water, but then it had always been on the opposite side. My thoughtlessness and blindness to danger took for granted, that as I hitherto had received no harm, I should encounter none for the time to come. And of one serious fact I was then entirely ignorant, and there was none present to inform me, namely, that a few years ago the pond had been laid dry, and a great deepening made on this side by digging" gravel. As majr aunt and brother had been unable to retain me with them, they proceeded to walk across the field, and arrived at the margin of the water just in time to hear me cry out for help, and to see me go down. The truth is, I had but for a short time enjoyed the fruits of my ^'- foolishness,^^ before I stumbled into the deep gravel pits, and was quickly out of sight. What the feelings of the standers by were I cannot realize ; but I have, at this hour, a tolerable recollection of my own convulsive struggles, of the state of suffocation I endured, of the general confusion, as well as of the few distinct thoughts which preyed on the mind, though I cannot convey the import of these recollections to another person ; nor need any one regret his inability to realize them. I can only say, that what I then felt and feared, have, on many subsequent occasions, much increased the agonies of my mind while commiserating others whom I have seen struggling, sinking, and dying in the briny deep, without being able to afford them any assistance.

As far as my observations have gone, it seems, that persons in deep water, under circumstances any way similar to mine, do generally, in the convulsive struggles of suffocation, come to the surface two or three times, never oftener, and frequently not so often. In my struggling, after first going down, I rose for a few seconds, and then sunk, and rose again ; and again I went down, and once more I appeared at the surface ! During this short and awful period, my brother, who was naturally timid and irresolute, seemed to be inspired with a new nature and wisdom beyond his age, and

THE RETROSPECT. t\

former self; so that, instead of being paralyzed or frantic with what quite overpowered my aunt, he flew to that part of the bank nearest to which I had last appeared, and holding on with one hand by some branches of a dwarf tree, he threw his body, as far as possible, over the pond, if peradventure I might come up again within his reach. Scarcely had he thus taken his stand, than I came, for the third time, to the surface, and, unconscious of his situation, I threw my arm involuntarily, and at full stretch, in a direct line towards his, which was already extended to its full length ; by this means he was just enabled to grasp my wrist, to drag my head above water, and eventually to get me on dry ground, in a state of as much exhaustion as was possible to sustain, with the preservation of the senses and recollection. Thus did a kind and gracious Providence snatch me from a watery grave in my very youth, and make it evident to every reflecting believer in holy writ, that it loas His work. I have never thought of this event for many years past, without seeing the finger of God in all its parts. The conduct of my brother on this occasion was altogether above himself; and then, had I not come up where I actually did, and thrown out the arm exactly where I involuntarily extended it, I must have gone down, and in a few seconds more have rested my poor perishing frame on the deep gravel bottom, in all the quietude of death ; while the soul, untaught and uninterested in that Holy Name whereby alone man can be saved, would have returned unto God who gave it, to give an account of all the deeds done in the body.

The second providential deliverance I shall now refer to, was an hair-breadth escape from being shot. This occurred about two years before I went to sea. As guns and gunpowder, and every thing connected with them, had, as before observed, from my earliest days, been ranked by me among the most desirable acquisitions on earth, I could not rest satisfied until I was possessed of a fowling-piece, and all the materials necessary to kill whatever I considered lawful to destroy, as often as such should come in my way. All this I was, however, obh'ged to keep secret from those who held authority and controul over me, because none of them would consent to my using, much less possessing a gun. I knew their feelings too well on this subject to make the request, and I disregarded them sufficiently to set every wish and command at defiance, provided I could but disobey with impunity. Hence, when I could make the purchase without detection, I did so, and proceeded in the clandestine use of it. Perhaps, at that time, there were few creatures more reckless of danger, or more thoughtless of the consequences of actions, than myself As one proof, I almost always kept my gun loaded with a frightful overcharge, and hid away in the spare stall in the stable among the dry straw, from whence I removed it by stealth, as often as the temptation to fire, and some game came in my way. On one of these occasions, I had sharply pecked the flint, reprimed the piece, and was hastening out to delight my ^^ foolish heart^^ at the expense of the sufferings and death of some poor little innocent birds in the adjoining meadow, when my gun went off of itself By way of getting out of the stable without the piece being observed, I had placed it under my coat, and strange to say, with the butt end downwards, and the muzzle a little above the grasp of the shoulder joint of the left arm ; in this way I had nearly got out, when the discharge took place.

Whether I had left the piece cocked, or whether I struck the lock against the door or door-post, I know not ; but one thing I did then know, and do now most distinctly remember, that the violence of the explosion, and the nearness of it to my head, both stunned and greatly alarmed me ; while it inflicted an injury on the organs of the left ear, from which they have never wholly recovered. I had no hat on at that time, or a portion of it must have been shot away ; as it was, the contents of the piece cut a four inch square rafter nearly in two directly over my head, while these missiles of death were in mercy carried a very, very little way from the side of the head itself This event had the momentary effect of inducing me to sell my gun, and to make a resolution to have no more to do with fire-arms. And so had my narrow escape from being drowned produced, at that time, a like momentary resolution to avoid the water in future ; but so far from my ^^ foolish heart^ being bound and stayed to these purposes by such self-formed determinations, I broke through them all as far as possible ; and soon after this last providential escape, I began to take greater delight than ever in hearing and reading of storms, of shipwrecks, and battles ; and the more I heard and read of these things, the more I longed to become experimentally acquainted with them. Added to this, the same foolish heart had formed 2 and fondly cherished the wildest ideas of happiness at sea ! Many were the ruffs, and buffs, and corrections, which my wayward conduct procured me; and under the smart of these I generally consoled myself with the thought, that if I should not find myself, by and by, as happy as heart could wish on the land, I had nothing to do but to embark on the wide ocean, and there, as a matter of course, I should find all that I longed for, but had not found on shore ! With such visionary expectations my deceived heart turned me aside from the comforts and quietude of home, to embark in the navy, where I traversed that ocean of supposed enjoyment far and wide, but not far enough to find the happiness I once dreamt of as being its every day's production, at all seasons, and in all portions of the globe.

Chapter II

"bless the lord, o my souLjANd forget not all HIS benefits." — Psalm ciii. 2.

There are few, perhaps none, of the followers of Christ, who may not find numerous occasions of lifting up their eyes and hearts to heaven, and saying, from time to time, " Hitherto the Lord hath helped." Indeed we may confidently ask. Who is there among the sons and daughters of Adam, that hath travelled the journey of life for twenty or thirty years, but may look back and remember numerous instances of divine goodness, manifesting itself in a way of providence and grace? And are "our days, as it were, but a span long ?" Surely, then, it is our duty and privilege to improve them, and call in every auxiliary circumstance to help us to apply them to spiritual wisdom. To this end I would recommend my fellow Christians to make a point of recording in their minds such principal events as have marked, and still may mark, their course, while travellers and sojourners on earth ; that so they may be able to say, it was on this day the Lord delivered me from such a danger, from such a snare, from such a threatening storm — this was the day when the Almighty proved better to me than all my fears — that was the day whereon he stretched forth his hand and saved me, and set my feet upon a rock, and ordered my goings, and put a new song in my mouth. Thus every month may be registered, and a sort of calendar made out, to which the soul may occasionally refer, and find sweet matter of thanksgiving and praise. Some men's lives, it is true, are chequered with more extraordinary events and changes than those of others; yet the most tranquil course of the most retired Christian will not be without its interesting events and its memorable days ; interesting and memorable at least to themselves, although the circumstances which made them so may not furnish any new or striking matter for the consideration of others. But when the reverse has been the case ; when the Almighty has appeared for us in any peculiar way of providence or grace, then it becomes a positive duty not only to record his dealings on the tablet of our memory, and be thankful, but on all proper occasions to imitate the pious king of Israel, who exclaimed, " Come hither, all ye that fear the Lord, and I will tell you what he hath done for my soul." This I think may often be done in our own families, and among our more intimate christian friends, to the edification of all present.

The return of the second of February has led me to these observations, because it was on this day the tender mercies of God were greatly extended towards me. It is now sixteen years past, when posting down the broad road of destruction, loud in blasphemy, and ever ready to burlesque and condemn the Holy Scriptures, that my life was spared, while several of my companions in sin perished!* Ignorant of the world, and impatient of controul, I had previously broken away from the constraint of social authority, and embarked on the great deep, in pursuit of honours and fancied happiness, which, as hinted in the foregoing chapter, I imagined were the every day scenes of a naval life ; there, like others, I had to contend with the storms and dangers of an element, emblematical of the sinner's mind, never at rest, and to learn at an early period of my adventures, that in not a few things,

" The very wish is in possession lost."

How great the contrast between this and the day alluded to ! Few seasons ever witnessed a more serene and delightful day than this has been ; few ever beheld one more tempestuous and severe than that in which our ship was stranded amidst shoals of ice on a foreign coast.

Methinks I now see the wreck lying on its side, and hear the howling northern blast roar through the confused and mangled tackling; methinks I now see the crew leaving this untenable abode, and betaking themselves to the rugged field of ice and snow with which we were surrounded ! Memory again presents in full view all the dismal severities of that afternoon, when fifteen of my companions perished from the effects of cold in the space of three hours. It brings before me

* This date refers to the time when this paper was first written, and made its appearance in The Christian Guardian, or Church of England Magazine.

2* the gracious and visible interposition of Providence m preserving not only myself, but all the first party who quitted the wreck, from what would otherwise have been inevitable destruction.* As it was, I seem again to look over the dreary waste, and behold the scattered travellers, some in little groups, others alone; some growing faint, others stumbling and falling on their slippery and deceitful road; some benumbed and ex-

* I shall observe, by way of note, that from the wreck we had a view of a building, at a considerable distance on the shore, and for this object we directed our course when we quitted the vessel. But we had not gone far, ere a snow storm came on, and obscured our view ; and as the wind and drift came from the very point on which we had to proceed, its severity was felt to the utmost, and caused us imperceptibly to edge ofl' to the right hand, and travel in a direction which, if continued, would have carried us off the shoal and field of ice into the sea ; or, at best, by the time we had discovered our situation, it would have taken us so far from any place of shelter, as to have left us to perish on the ice and snow during the night. This dreadful calamity was, however, prevented by one of our party having a pocket compass about him. He had taken the bearings of the above-mentioned object previous to leaving the wreck, and after some travelhng, was induced to examine the course we were actually pursuing. To our surprise, it was discovered how widely we were, and had been deviating from the right line. This, however, enabled all but one of the party to correct their march, though at the expense of many additional and laborious steps. The one who formed an exception was an exceedingly strong man, who had outstripped us all, and was too far in advance to notice our signals of recal, when we altered our course ; and as the snow soon hid him from our view altogether, we had no doubt but he travelled on until he either fell into the sea, or found himself totally bewildered and out of all reach of shelter, and perished on the ice long before the light of another day.

pressing their misery ; others endeavouring to cheer up their spirits ; some taking their seats on massy pieces of ice, and others in vain endeavouring to urge them on in the prosecution of their journey. Methinks I now see the gloom of that evening, and the departure of its early twilight, which just lighted my weary feet to the secure and friendly habitations of man ; and I seem again to feel the toil and labour with which I mounted the sea-guard bank that had been thrown up around the walls and little domain of this timely and merciful refuge. Nor is this all which the same record brings before me ; it calls on me to blush with shame and confusion of face at the recollection of my then worse than brutal insensibility and hardness of heart. For I know that not only then, but long afterwards, I lived as without God in the world, having no saving scriptural knowledge, no gospel hope. I w^as truly an alien from the commonwealth of Israel, and a stranger to the covenant of promise. O Lordi what shall I render unto thee for thy unnumbered mercies ? How shall I, how can I, sufficiently adore that forbearance and tender compassion which spared and supported me through all the struggles and dangers connected with this my first shipwreck? Had I this day sixteen years ago been numbered among those who fell, O where, where would my immortal soul have now been? Where, but in hell ! suffering the righteous judgments of abused mercy and insulted majesty ! — beholding the felicity of the redeemed and the glory of the Redeemer; but myself afar off! May I never allow the return of this season to pass by without gratefully acknowledging thy goodness, and endeavouring to raise my mind to high and holy contemplations on Thee, thou Triune Jehovah, as the author of all mercies, and giver of every good and perfect gift ! Should to-morrow's sun rise amidst clouds and storms, and drifting hail and snow, let it give me a realizing sense of the dangers I have passed, and while I am experiencing the comforts of a house, a home, and a fire-side, may I not forget the sufferings, the agonizing pains of those who, at this season, fell to rise no more.* But especially when yonder leaflless trees, groaning beneath the winter's blast, send forth the hollow roar, and mimic the voice of storms at sea — when the frame of my cottage trembles under the pressure of sudden squalls and gusts of wind,

" When winter comes ! when polar spirits sweep The darkening world, and tempest-troubled deep ! When boundless snows the wither'd heath deform, And the dim sun scarce wanders through the storm :"

O then may I in a more especial manner bear in my mind, in my heart, and in my prayers, those multitudes

* With respect to those who fall victims to the severity of cold, there can be no doubt but many of them go off without experiencing any other sensible pain or inconvenience than that of great fatigue and an unconquerable drowsiness, which latter seems rather to relieve them from their perceptions of cold than otherwise, and to dismiss the spirit apparently without a struggle. But in others it is far different, as appeared in the case of more than one of my departed fellow-travellers, whose drowsy fit or first sleep was followed by strong and agonizing convulsions, in which they beat themselves against the ice, so as greatly to disfigure their persons. One poor man absolutely severed the strong bone of his thumb in two between his own teeth.

THE RETROSPECT. 2V

who are still traversing these waters, encountering all the severity of such seasons, and all the perils of the deep. And O ! most gracious God ! may all thy children, under all the variety of circumstances and situations in which they are placed, call to mind thy former mercies, and laud and magnify thy holy name, until removed from this lower, this troubled and sinful world, they unite with that innumerable host around thy throne, in ascribing "blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour and power, and might, unto God and the Lamb for ever and ever."

CHAPTER III. Matt. xxiv. 40, 41

In the course of my earthly pilgrimage I have witnessed many a literal fulfilment of the above prediction, both by sea and land. But there was one in particular, which took place on the memorable second of February, an account of which may not be unacceptable to the reader. — We had two females on board our frigate. The one was a robust, musculine woman, who had been at sea with her husband for more than two years, and consequently was inured to all the privations and hardships of a maritime life : the other was an entire stranger to such a mode of existence. She had never been twelve hours on ship-board until the evening she came off to see her husband, whom we had impressed the last time we anchored in their road-stead. — Scarcely had this woman, timid and full of alarm, got on our decks, ere the weather became stormy, and the night set in. There was now no alternative, but patiently waiting for the return of day, or fairer weather. But that very night, our destination to port, where we expected to refit and recruit after a dismal cruise off the coast of Norway, was countermanded. Some men of considerable political importance came on board, and we were ordered to sea at an hour's notice, and our visitor was thus unavoidably carried from her home and friends. She was indeed with her husband (a consolation not small to an affectionate wife ;) but then she was not only an entire stranger to the scenes and inconveniences of a ship at sea, but was in herself a very tender and delicate woman, and, moreover, near the time of her confinement. As the weather continued rough, seasickness, and a thousand fears, seized on her, and in the course of the day she was delivered of a dead child.

Eighteen hours after this event, our ship struck the ground, and was stranded, notwithstanding all the efforts used to save her. Thirty hours more had barely elapsed, when our poor companion was called on to travel, or rather to stumble, through ice and snow ; to set her face against the severity of such a storm of wind, and hail, and sleet, as overcame some of the apparently strongest of the crew. In short, she had to travel that journey, and to endure that weather, under which fifteen perished.