.> \n.> V^, IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. 1.0 |50 '""^ ImUu I.I 1.25 =y= IM II 2.0 1= 1.6 V] , f% '/ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 j^' <«? •y Xj J '^ - % CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHIVI/iCIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microrepioductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques Th«c tothfl The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Features of this copy which may be bibliographically unique, \which may alter any of the Images in the reproduction, or which may significantly change the usual method of filming, are checked below. L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire qu'il lui a etA possible de se procurer. Les details de cat exemplaire qui sont peut-itre uniques du point da vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la methods normale de filmage sont indiqu^s ci-dessous. Theii pOMil of th< ffilmir □ Coloured covers/ Couvertura de couieur pn Covers damaged/ D Couverture endommagde Covers restored and/or laminated/ Couverture restaurie et/ou peiliculie □ Cover title missing/ Le tit itre de coual Church, il»y certify : church In Preacher, >repared to (xl, sound, ullest con* sufferings. It number, sting, and g it wi!! ba especially deserving <\i' 3, - /. .• v HALL, .';>•• -.<-v»-_ ■ci . *»- '!}' ^j^- r •r-r t^ iu L ill" 'ohis hire. EnglarKl , Sr-};'. 7 i ii. IH i j b . NARRATIVE ^ VPTiYE; > V»v' - ;r^^^:. ^¥'^v ■ •'■^.'^■'' ,,%%' ; ^ •ft-'-"* ■{*■ *■». ^4» s_^ -* ••»<» ■. * ' >''<• ■ ■,-' ^■;-^l '.:V •^:. ■■*■ ■ ?■. '.'■''iPtM-:. -•V, ■'".«,-i.* ;>• '^-' jmSgaaB i ! ii »«s- :'.'m1 4. NARRATIVE O F THE OF A YOUNG BRITISH CAPTIVE ; (Minister of the Gospel.) WHO WAS A SOLDIER, BOUND FOR LIFE IN THK BRITISH ARMT' AND IN WHICH IS CONTAINED AN ACCOUNT OF ITS CHARACTER, AND THE BARBAROUS METHOD PRACTISED IN PUNISHING THEIR SOLDIERS; WITH AN INTERESTING ACCOUNT OF HIS ESCAPE FROM HIS REGIMENT, HIS CAPTURE, IMPRISONMENT, TRIAL, AND CONDEMNATION TO DEATH; HIS SUBSEQUENT SUFFERINGS, AND flNAL ESCAPE FROM CAPTlVITy, AND FROM THE BRITISH DOMIN IONS. IVRITTEN BT HIMSBI^F. «* *;) PREFACE. '■'^>V' Many of the virtuous and the good whose lives have been distinguished for usefulnesss have contributed to the literature of the world by publishing their biographies ; thereby pro- moting the cause of truth, morality, and reli- gion, and perpetuating their memories among the living. Though the writer may shine with far inferior lustre in the scale of intellectual and moral greatness to many who have written ; yet, he would meekly present to the Public a narrative of his young and eventful career ; a career, which has been marked with some of the most remarkable occurrences, and which are not less interesting from having been suf- fered at so early an age. To the merits of these assertions the impartial reader is left to judge. The writer trusts that he possesses nothing of assumptive arrogance, nor the work any thing of fictitious novelty. It is a plain unvarnished statement of real facts, as they have occurred, and of sufferings as they have been endured. The reader then must pardon its errors ; and rather then pierce it with a dagger of criticism, he will drop his mace, and cover all its faults with a mantle of mercy. The object of writing it will be obtained if it shall exhibit the goodness of God — correct the evil passions of the heart — enforce paren- rf !fc\>' > \ . ' 4 PREFACE. tal obedience — promote generous sentiments — elevate the standard of morality, and 'purify the the taste of the youth, to whom it is most sin- cerely dedicated. It was not originally the design of the author to publish his narrative at so early a period of his life ; but to have withheld it from the world until (if he lived) he was further advanced in years, or have lefl it in manuscript to be pub- lished afler his decease. But the ardent solic- itude felt by his bereaved and afflicted Parents, who has for a number of years suffered severe mental anxiety and grief, from the authors sud- den separation from them in the bud of early youth, and his being conveyed away to a for- eign land,ignorant of the dangers aud sufferings to which he was exposed, probably never to meet them again on the shores of time ; and the earnest importunate desire expressed in their letters to have it immediately put to the press, when they learned its general events by a correspondence ; is a request too powerful in its claims not to be acceded too with senti- ments of childlike affection and gratitude. Added to this is the conviction that the events embodied in the work, are of sufficient interest to justify its publication . The author feels that all his sufferings have arisen from disobedience to his Parents, and a reckless spirit of adventure : — he would there- fore write this as a warning to the rising gen- eration, hoping it may prove a check to the viru- lent passions of the young and thoughtles and, ^■1 % 'M PREFACE. by do good ; and that it may on these accounts be sanctioned by every christian and philan- thropist. This being the motive by which the follow- ing pages have been compiled, he would pre- sent them to the candid Public, in unison with the sentiments and wishes of friends, and kin- derd, who are far separated from him by the mighty deep, with a desire that it may be ren- dered a blessing, both to them, and to every American youth. That the blessing of God may rest upon the work, is the sincere prayer of THE AUTHOR. tude. rents jrest lave id a lere- jen- \ir\i' md. r ■•) '/ ' '( CONTENTS. ,j CHAPTER I. Containing^ an account of his nativity, parentage, early life, and trials, to the 15th year of his age, when he enlisted as a lol* dier in his Majesty*3 service. CHAPTER II. From the time he enlisted, to his being embodied with his regi- ment in Montreal, Lower Canada. ^ CHAPTER III. An account of his trials and suiTerings, from the time he joined his regiment to his reprieve from death ; containing some af* fecting occurrences. CHAPTER IV. From the time he was reprieved, to his final escape from im- prisonment — in which is manifest the providence and graco of God. CHAPTER V. An account of his life and trials, from his escape from imprison* ment to his arrival in the United States. CHAPTER VI. An account of the succeeding years of his life, — the dispensations of Providence and grace,— -continued down to the present time. LIFE - i OF WILLIAM B. LIGHTON. life, and as a sol* his regi- e joined some af« rom im- id graco nprison* DSatlOBS present I » --t — / CHAPTER I. Containing an account of his nativity, parantage, early life, and trials, to the 15tb year of his age, when he enlisted as a soldier in tlis Majesty's service. I was born at Frampton, near Boston, in the County of Lincolnshire, England, on the sev- enth day of September, 1805. My father pos- sessed a small, but fertile farm, from whence by honest industry, he obtained a comfortable sup- port for himself and family, consisting of a wife and five children, three sons and two daugh- ters. He possessed a sound judgment, a pen- etrating genius and an active vigorous mind, with a character of untarnished worth. His dealings were always marked with the strictest principles of justice, which rendered him belov- ed and a useful member of society. Thus was my dear father respected, and through Provi- dence, blest with a cheerful competence that re- moved him and his family from the dangerous extremes of poverty and wealth, either of which is oflen productive of much painful anxiety. My dear mother died while I was quite r f 8 LIFE OF w n .,-. vv. B, LIGHTON. J'^ung; of course I oa„ character . However ,h''^ *•"! ''"'« «»»out her J "nbiHed is still bri'hi I /P?'"'' "'''^collection pamfui afflictiorwhich thf "^ "* '°"g ani «>«'tude,shetook anlff ^^ "'"''^ ^^i"" christian husband and ch^dron .J"?"^'^ '"'^rewell oj-her «" ">(o the hami of ' "'' ''"f '='""'nittinV,htl P««ce and in full ho^'e^^oraXi ''°'' ^"^ ^"'^^ A few days ubt""" "'■""• '""'•^■" *- <>f-r/t;?twrs''£7 "Cher's demise, followed her to the real.n« «• ^""'^'ears of age) •* here is snmo*K- ^ "^'"e of the T r^^A » LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. i)out her Jllection Sections ^ mater- the best rthy of ►ng and christian 11 of her ng them ) died in ortalit/. demise, of age) liis sud- ound in mourn- ded to most \d sub- d hath ord." amily assi- f the t be lost ►ugh ren, eart. See m him fixing his vacant gaze upon the place she used to occupy ; — associations are connected with a glance at that empty place which rend his heart, and start the tears into his mournful eyes. Does he retire to his solitary chamber at night ? It is but to spend the sleepless hours in remembrances of the past It was so with my father, his bosom was severely wounded, and he lived but to mourn the loss he had experienced. It is felt by the children. They recoil from the cold attention of strangers, which, however kind it may be, never equals the warmth of a mother's love. They miss too those instruc- tions, which they were wont to receive from her beloved and willing lips, by which they were so much improved and amused. Here it was that I suffered by not having a mother, who, in the course of my early years, would have repressed the effects of depraved nature, by her sage counsels and wise government. After the lapse of several months, my father married a second time to an amiable woman of preposessing appearance, and a disposition so agreeable as to win the affection and secure the esteem of all her acquaintances. From her I received that care, which, in some measure, atoned for my former loss. ^ She was kind and indulgent, though at the same time strict in re- quiring obedience, — but the reader, who has lost a fond mother, will understand me, when I say she was not my mother. My parents were strict observers of the ^ rules of the established church. For the truths ■'/■■ ■' , I 10 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. of the bible they possessed a deep reverence and sincere regard, and they strove to impress those truths upon the minds of their offspring at the earliest periods of intellectual exfoliation. The effect of this pious instruction produced in my mind a deep veneration for the character of God, and fear of offending him by a breach of his holy law. The following anecdote, though simple, may serve to show what moral impression was made upon my mind. It is a matter of most implicit faith among the juvenile class, in some parts of England, that the robin red-breast, from some undefined reason or other, is the peculiar favorite of Dei- ty, that its red-breast is the trait by which it is known as such, and that to destroy it inevita- bly produces the displeasure of Jehovah. Un- fortunately I destroyed a brood of these chirp- ing innocents, which I had no sooner done, than I became the subject of a train of reflec- tion the most painful and disagreeable. Con- viction rolled upon my mind, I felt guilty, un- happy, and was full of fear for the deed I had done ; in vain did I try to forget the act ; I could not ; my burden grew heavier, it became insupportable, I wept aloud and cried to God for mercy and pardon, promising if he would forgive me, I never would be guilty of the like offence. The effect of my importunate cry to God gave me the most sensible relief that I ev- er experienced in my life. My guilt was rolled off my shoulders and my wonted peace return- ed to my bosom, insomuch that I resumed my % "% M LIFE OF W. B. IJGIITON. 11 Bverence ) impress fspring at Uation. produced character a breach inecdote, at moral h among England, indefined e of Dei- hich it is inevita- ah. Un- 5se chirp- er done, )f reflec- Con- ilty, un- I had act ; I became to God e would the like le cry to at I ev- ,s rolled return- ed my innocent amusements with all the transports of youthful delight. Would to God that my mor- al sensitiveness had always remained equally sharp ! In order that I might be more efficiently in- structed in those scriptures which make " wise unto salvation," I was, at an early age, sent to a Sabbath School, conducted by ladies and gentlemen, whose souls, filled with' a Saviour's love, yearned with compassion for the youth of the village, and from whose philanthropic labors, I imbibed a respect for the name and charac- ter of the Supreme being, which, in after life, served to restrain me from the depths of vice. O, the blessed and happy effects of Sabbath Schools ! Surely they are seats of mercy. Would to God they were more perseveringly attended too. Ye Christians, awake to this important duty, and labor steadily with all your moral powers at this mighty engine of piety and reformation ! And may the Omnipotent Jeho- vah bless you and the institution with success ! My father, being a man of information, and aware of the value of education, placed me un- der the tuition of Mr. Joshua Dent,a gentleman fitted both by learning, and judgment to super- intend the instruction of youth. From this in- divid^ial I received that assistance which ena- bled me to acquire a knowledge of the common branches of learning, and had it not been for the indolence to which I was subject, I should have been instructed in the higher branches of literature ; but, to my subsequent sorrows I 2 ii 12 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. thwarted the design of my parents, and master, by mj^ indolence and love of amusement. This last mentioned evil continually involved me in trouble and perplexity, wasted my precious time, and in some cases, rendered me amenable to the laws of the land, as also it made me the subject of my father's displeasure. The amuse- ments to which I allude were the robbing of gardens, and orchards,trapping game, and hunt- ing bird's nests, Stc. To the latter of which I became so grosely addicted that I have fre- quently exposed myself to the most emminent danger of breaking my limbs and losing my life. Such was the effect of my climbing into thcirn-hedges in pursuit of my object, that I have suffered severely from the lacerating thorn, both upon my flesh and clothes,the latter of which would sometimes be tattered in rags, which sight provoked my parents to anger, es- pecially my mother, as it kept her generally busy with the needle and thread, in mending for me." These propensities I indulged, as of- ten, and as far as circumstances would permit, in defiance of the strictest injunctions to the contrary. I mention these things to show the young reader what I consider to be the first causes of my numerous sufferings in afler life, viz: diso- bedience to my parents. Had I obeyed them and refrained from my sinful persuits, I should have escaped that censure and severe punish- ment, I oflen received as the consequence of my offences. I shall accordingly introduce the ^. LIFE OF W B. LIGHTON. IS ad master, ent. This ved me in y precious B amenable ide me the Phe amuse- robbing of I, and hunt- of which I [ have fre- t emminent losing my mbing into ect, that I lacerating Sjthe latter ed in rags, anger, es- generally mending ged, as oP Id permit, ons to the the young causes of viz: diso- eyed them , I should re punish- quence of reduce tho y^'i reader to one or two circumstances, which may serve to illustrate this remark. My father was an experienced horticulturist, and possessed a peculiar taste which led him to cultivate his garden almost to paradisical per- fection ; from which circumstances he forbad his children entering it on pain of his displeas- ure; a prohibitation so reasonable,ought certain- ly to have been obeyed. I did however, pay frequent visits to this delightful spot, and regale myself with the rich and luxuriant fruit it con- tained. On one occasion having entered this forbidden ground in company with my oldest brother, after we had eaten our fill, and had commenced lading ourselves with spoil, unsus- picious of dang/^r? we were alarmed by the sound of a pprc^hing footsteps. Our feelings were greatly excited at the idea of discoverey, laden as ^»e were with forbidden fruit. Accor- dingly we paused to ascertain who the intruders might be, when we heard a voice too well known to admit of doubt concerning our unwelcome visitors. It was my mother and grandmother who having been informed of our proceedings by a neighboring family, were come to drive us plunderers away. We had but a moment for consultation,and as the only alternative was to bury our fruit in the ground, and hide ourselves in the bushes, we did so, thus hoping to escape detection. Scarcely were we secreted, when they ap- proached, and with a voice that filled us with alarm, my mother exclaimed, " then you are 14 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. I i ) >i] here, you villains, are you ? Come out immedi- ately." We however remained,perfectly silent, when they commenced a regular search, and soon dislodged us from our retreat, and drove us from the garden. My father too, detected me in obtaining game by unlawful means, since by the laws of Eng- land, it is a crime to kill any kind of game what- ever, unless duly qualified according to law, which qualificatiou supposes ix large share of property, and the payment of certain dues ; and should any whom Providence has placed in a lower sphere of life, dare to lay their unhallow- ed hands upon any of thos^ proscribed creatures, even though he should be urged to do it by the imperious demands of a staiving family, the strong arm of an impious law \fould drag him from the bosom of a dependent wife ^d children, and consign him to a transportation Sbr several years. These are laws which in my humble opinion ought to be repealed, as they savor too much of despotism and tyrany. Against these laws, I frequently rebelled, and carried on my schemes with impunity, without regard to law or its consequences. My father being a strict observer of these laws, did all that lay in his power to prevent his children infringing them. He would keep no dog, guD, or instrument upon his premises that would in any way afford the means of poaching, and strictly forbid any such course on pain of his displeasure, with severe pun- ishment. "I '* out immedi- ectly silent, search, and » and drove ining game '9 of Eng- ame what- ig to law, e share of ain dues ; s placed in ' unhallow' creatures, it by the imily, the drag him children, )r several y humble savor too inst these d on my to law LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 15 i of these Bvent his Id keep )remise8 Bans of 1 course re puo- As my father descovered my propensity to evil, he adopted a course of discipline so strict that my life actually became a burthen ; home became unpleasent to me, and I ardently sighed for an escape from such severe discipline, as it had a very sad effect upon my mind. The pos- itive, and oft repeated prohibitions only serv- ed to increase and inflame my desires, and to create feelings which moderate gratification would have smothered in the birth. And I firmly believe had my dear parents pursued a milder and more lenient course of government towards me, my prominent defects of charac- ter might have been subdued, and I saved from those subsequent evils which befel me in after life. Hence it appears, that punishments too severe, and restrictions too minute only defeat their own ends. We are naturally prone to de- sire most, that which is most strictly forbidden, and the prohibition sometimes serves to enkindle desires which other wise never would have existed. Not that we suppose the law to create the principle which thus leads to dis- obedience, no ; that principle has its birth co- eval with the existence of the man, and is elic- ited by the enforcement of the command. This we believe is what the Apostle meant when he said, "for without the law sin was dead," and the Heathen where he says : ** Vice is provoked by every strong restraint ; Sick men love most to drink, who know they may'nt.*' Were a proper line of conduct pursued in the government and education of children, how 2» V ifl 16 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. few profligate sons and daughterSj and how few broken hearted parents, should we find ! 'J'ho injudicious management of many parents with their children, the neglect of early religioua education, connected with a wholesome and of- fectionate restraint, is the ruin of millions. Many parents are too authoritative and austere in their mode of government which renders obedience irksome and slavish. Others again, go into as great an extreme on the other hand, for they exercise but very little or no govern- ment at all. Their children some of them be- fore they are of age would seem to usurp the reins of government into their own hands, and they heed as much the wind that blows as they do the counsel and admonition of their parents. And why is this ? It is because their pa- rents are not in the exercise of a judicious and proper discipline, — and for fear of doing hurt to their children, or injuring their own feelings, they let them run headlong in their own way. No wonder then if they have profligate chil- dren ! — ^And indeed it will be a wonder, if their children do not sink to hell through their neglect ! '^ It is not parental fondness, nor parental authority, taken separately, that can produce this beneficial effect. A father may be as fond of his offspring as he possibly can be, and his children be disobedient and rebellious : he may be as authoritative as the grand Turk, and his children despise and plot rebellion against him. But let parental authority be tempered I nv. LIFE OF W. B. LIGUTON. 17 md how few find ! 'i^he irents with \y relig^ioua mie and af" f millions, md austere ch renders hers again, )ther hand, lo govern- !* them be- > usurp the lands, and ws as they iir parents, I their pa- |icious and ng hurt to feelings, )wn way. ;ate chil- onder, if ugh their parental produce e as fond and his )us : he urk, and against Bmpered with fathcrlu affection ; and let the reins of dij^- cipline be steadily held by this powerful but affectionate hand ; and there shall tiie pleasure of God prosper ; there will he give his blessing, even life for evermore. Many fine families have been spoiled^ and many ruined^ by the separate exercise of those two principles. Parental affectioriy when aloney infallibly de- generates into foolish fondness ; and parental authority frequently dfegenerates into brutal tyranny, when standing by itself The first sort of parents will be loved, without being res- pected ; the second sort will be dreaded, with- out either respect or esteem. In the first case obedience is not exacted, and is therefore leA to be unnecessary, as oflfences of great magni- tude pass without punishment or reprehension : in the second case, rigid exaction renders obe- dience almost impossible ; and the smallest de- linquency is often punished with the extreme of torture ; which, hardening the mind, renders duty a matter of perfect indifference. Parents, lay these things to heart ! Teach your children to fear God — use wholesome dis- cipline—be determined — begin in time — mingle severity and mercy together in all your conduct— and earnestly pray to God to second your god- ly discipline with the power and grace of his spirit ! " I had now arrived at that period of my life when it was deemed expedient I should make choice of some pursuit, by which to maintain myself in afler life ; but so volatile and change- 'i I p t! ,>ti^' 18 LIFE OF W. J5. LlCaiTON. ful was my disposition, that I found it difficult to decide. Added to this, my mind was filled with the most romantic ideas of distant places, I was charmed with the history of travellers and longed to rove at large through the wide earth uncontrolled and free. This disposition was not a little increased from the following circumstance. Captain Hewitt, a relative of my father, came to spend a few days with us previous to the sailing of his ship on a long voyage. To him was made known by my father the disposition I possessed. They thought it best to send me to sea. Accordingly it was agreed that Cap- tain Hewitt should take me, provided I would consent. I cheerfully assented, when an agree- ment was accordingly entered into and I was ordered to hold myself in readiness for sea at the summons of my friend. I was now much excited and busy in pre- paring for my departure. I thought but little of leaving home, and parting with friends ; my mind was filled with ideas of the pleasures of a sailor's life, and my engagedness had like to have cost my father his house ; for one night, while preparing papers and books for an inten- ded journal, I accidentally set fire to the win- dow hangings of my bed-chamber, and thus al- most fired the house. Having made the necessary preparations for my departure, I began to look anxiously for the summons of the Captain, but having wait- ed several weeks in vain, was compelled to 'ilLi it diflicult was filled mt places, travellers 1 the wide iisposition following 'her, came us to the I'o him lisposition ' send me that Cap- I would an agree- nd I was ' for sea in pre- Jut little ids ; my sures of d like to e night, inten- he win- thus al- iens for sly for wait- lied to LIFE OF W. B. LIGUTON. 19 give the matter up as a disappointment, and so it proved, for we never, to my knowledge, heard a word of his fate, but were left to conjecture the reason why he did not fulfil his promise. Some time after this circumstance the ques- tion of emigration was seriously agitated^ among my friends, and neighbors, America with all its advantages formed the to^^ic of con- versation, among all classes of society. The public voice spake loud in its favor, and the various periodicals of the day were filled with flaming eulogies of this far-famed continent. Among those who were captivated with these pleasing accounts my father stood foremost, and felt a most anxious desire to visit a spot so facinating. But the ill health of my mother, formed an almost insuperable barrier to his de- sign and led him to give it up, at least for a season. But though thus prevented from prosecuting his plan immediately, his desire was by no means allayed, nor his opinion altered ; indeed, the pleasing descriptions constantly received by the English, tended to keep the spirit of emigration in a state of active existence, and to increase those desires already formed in the breasts of thousands. The unbounded field it afforded for the hard hand of industry ; the rich harvest it ofTered to the speculator ; and above all, the rising importance of its govern- ment, operated with the influence of a magnet. Added to this, the deplorable state of things at home ; the glaring abuses of an impious gov- 20 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. ■ i : I i eminent ; the depression and wretchedness of the lower classes, and the murderous weight of TAXATION rendered the people dissatisfied, and taught them to believe that emigration would be conducive to their benefit to leave the home of their fathers, and, like the pilgrims, seek a refuge (not from religious persecutions) but from political oppression, and domestic poverty, in a land of freedom and plenty. Such feelings and views operated as a pow- erful stimulous upon my mind, and created a strong desire in me to visit a place of which I had heard so much, especially as the members of my own family were continually discussing the merits and demerits of the question. This desire was much increased by the con- versation of a gentleman, whom my father em- ployed to give me a little private instruction for the purpose of putting the finishing stroke to my education. My father usually attended at these hours ; (which was in the evenings of the winter season) and during the leisure mo- ments of my tutor, would converse freely upon his favorite topic. My instructor being well acquainted with the history of the colonies, and other circumstances of recent date, took pleasure in answering every enquiry upon the subject. Frequently he would read to my father some interesting accounts respecting the country, which was so congenial with my feelings, that I listened with strict attention, and treasured up all he read, so that when the period arrived^ roN. LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 21 chedness of ous weight of 3 dissatisfied, it emigration it to leave the he pilgrims^ persecutions) fid domestic plenty, d as a pow- d created a 5 of which I he members ' discussing 3stion. by the con- r father em- instruction ing stroke ly attended ivenings of eisure mo- reely upon )eing well - colonies, date, took upon the Lther some country, »gs, that I asured up arrived, which put an end to my opportunity for instruc- tions, it was evident 1 had improved almost as much in my knowledge of American manners and customs^ as in any department of science. After leaving my insti uctor,and being in conse- quence, deprived of that source of information, I procured a work entitled the " Emigrant's Guide,'' which I read at every opportunity, which offered itself, wherein I could avoid no- tice and detection. The only place, wherein I felt safe, in reading my book about America^ was at church ; (to which place I used to carry it hid under my clothes) where, seating myself in some distant part, read most assidously, ac- counts which added fuel to the flame already existing in my bosom. As offensive as this course may appear to my reader, I was compelled to adopt it, from a vehement de»ire to learn all I could about the country, and to keep my book from the knowledge of my father, who would have de- prived me of it, had he known I had it. About this tiirie, a neighboring gentleman, by the name of Westmoreland, came to the reso- lution of trying his fortune by emigration, My father was intending to accompany him, but my mother positively refusig, on account of her health, he declined. This however did not retard Mr. W., who proceeded on his jour- ney early m the spring, and after a short and pleasant passage landed in Philadelphia. The sudden change he experienced from the moder- ate heat of England to the scorching sun of 22 WPE OP W. B. LIGHTOIV. co'„SrotV/''„^»/«all effect upon his home. In short, the HiffJ ^'^^ ''>™seJf at «« to lead him toTreftfT'^f^^' ^ g^^'^t he had Jeft, to the coSrv of hf 1,'^ •''« ""me «o beget a resolution to L""'°P"°"' «"<« possible. His commun ° .•^'"™ «« ^oon as evinced this resolutToToTht""! /" *''? ^'^nd^ mation was so unexnectpV* ^^"^J which infor- would scarcely credU the *!'"?' ^^}^'' "««' he 'mpatiently to hear whit J«ffi ^"^ he waited hw visit. As it happened h.L'"' "'^ •"««»'' of for one day being ^KdJi? "'"'"»'' 'ong, field, through which f^l''rr«''«"g in a from Boston to other il.f- ^T'^^^' 'ead'ng country and withTn a sho T^ """' *"■ "»« place, I espied an inH.!;-? .*''*'""'=« of that i;ards us, resembK„g°ttt «f;P'"°''«'''»g *o- the gentleman i„ qufsfL^ "r*"'' appearance, father that Mr. W TJ^^'J '"^'na/ked to my as .f scarcely able toTredThH,^- ^^ '°°''«d he approached, acknowi»j J ? *®"*®«'. hut as 'vaited impatiemlv rrT- ^*"^ " '^"^ him. w! near the s^t tK^^^'va, .hen comi!| ^as close bv the nafKA u ? ® ^abourinff, fas i1 i'«/e« yo„ «Vta.t^ho"ted «„A ^Xn, hands and congratuIa^W u ^^^^ ^hakinff ceeded to give u, fl ^ ^*°h other, he nro? and presenf^d us thh'^T"''^, '°''~i:: among which, I well reLrK''^'"*' •'•"•'osities,' )N. ^ upon his himself at as so great ^ the home option, and is^ soon as his friends ^hich infor- mer, that he he waited B result of wait long, 'ting in a h, leading ts of the 5 of that ching to- >earance, ed to my I looked > but as ni. We coming S> (as it ^ghtony [shaking le pro- bation, osilies, •ortoise, ;o you ley are dish LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 23 with the Jlmericans / " He strongly urged my father to give up all intention of emigrating, urging many discouragements, among which, one was, that the people were grievously tor- mented with musquetoes and flies, which he said had so tormented him that during many nights he could not sleep. This description did not at all correspond with my father's views, and he supposing the gentleman more at fault than the country, la- conically observed, after they had parted, " that he thought his back was too strait, " sig- nifying he did not love work, which was prob- ably the case. However, these circumstances only made me the more anxious to visit the country and satisfy myself with respect to the validity of his statements, as I had learned by what I had read it was quite the reverse of what he represented. Id consequence of this, together with many other youthful excitements, I had now become a source of much painful uneasiness to my pa- rents. My disposition became unsettled, and I felt anxious to enter upon new scenes. The mighty conflict between passion and reason now commenced its predominant influence upon my mind, and such was its effect, that nothing but the power and grace of God could have sub- dued it. I stood exposed to the fascinating power of principle, exciting to disobedience, &c., a principle so powerful that all the effortei of parental discipline failed to subdue it, and which eventually led me into many difiioulties and dangers. 3 24 i- ' LIFE OF w. B. LIGHTON. you?h%^:fLSS r"^*^-^ "^''^-n early ?ne of the most da„ ' " ;?„"T' accounts, i^ «s then that the oas^innl " ''"""^n life, u ungovernable;an2ThaUhr T'' ^'""'e"' and oupfy for preCnei^e [t iC'f^'" ""^^ f""- voice of pleasure, w°th it! 1 *''^." ""«' the «ost likel/to capti'v^e ani , """.'"g «»'«. *« "I'nd. A^d it i8Tefthluhi"^^ '''^ y°"'hful of the man is most genera fv I "'"/'^''^^^^^^ future usefulness in l!fe deteL^ "l^'''.^"'^ his •ne pause, and speak a liHtT.?^'^- "ere let «<■• Let me adWse you /' L ""t.^^^^S ^ead- proceed, with regard tovotr rr""°? ''""^ ^o" l^ile you are in the dl^p^' '"^ ""'' <">nd«ct, B« careful that thou foKot 't.f''"' "^ y'"'''^- of thy own heart, that tZ. ?« Pi-opensities the dupe of vain and unmanlv ^^^-^ "^^«^ ''« wmch Solomon, the wise min ^ ^^"^e, important reason assigned i« 'f? ' """ ^^e the m«e, of life." Prov 4 2^ •^k""' "/ ^ «»•« neglect, or overlook h«' ! ^^^atever you heart. For it is 2' Jeat Tent '"/^?P /""^ andif oncebadonpri?/ ®®' of pmci pies "fee « cutting ora;ii7r'.,f'^''"^hed, ft fs' out the right eye," tSoo?l"f «»d "plu'cking fore, be watchful Nlrrow^v^K ""*• ^^ere? chnafions and aversion, V^ "^^""""^ ali its in- afiections, together w^rtre'Ulr.''*'"^ »"" occasions which excite thpm T"' °''J®efs and — heart i, so witfe^l^r^Tou^ra^d' ween early accounts, is an life. It irulent and e most furi- n that the ing note, is le youthful e character id, and his Here let oung read- US how you id conduct, 1 of youth, •ropensities never be ns. Take of advice, s us, viz. " for the it of it are [tever you eep your rinciples, ed, it is plucking There- all its in- ions and pects and [member, life and LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTQN. 25 •mt conduct be. As is the fountain, so are the streams ; as is the root, so is the fruit. May God help the precious reader to be v^rise ! My parents feeling deeply solicitious for my welfare, and perceiving it would be impossible to effect my reformation by keeping me at home with them, resolved to put me out to some place that I might gain some instruction from the hand of experience. Accordingly a suitable place was procured for me at a respectable far- mer's about twelve miles distant. I staid there but a short time, for the reason my master was not in need of me as a servant, and no agree- ment existing between my master and father, I left, and returned home to the parental roof. My parents not knowing the cause of my leav- ing,and unwilling to credit my report, were very much displeased at my return, insomuch, my life became a burden and home disgusting. In the spring of 1819, I was again put out to service at some distance from home. The fam- ily were remarkably strict in their attention to the externals of religion, but like the Pharisees, they were strangers to its vital power and op- erations upon the heart. Among other things, they insisted upon a punctual attendance at the house of God on the part of their depen- dents, a request I willingly complied with. Al- though thus careful to appear pious, they were tb*^ victims of passion . Hence, my master up- while, forgot mv sorrowt *®",»*'eep, and for a Early iLh^L".^°r/,"iP7P'««''e«- castle, and proceeded fo^'?^ ''"^^ "^ Horn- gathering, li went alo2 th TP'*'>""«»«. heaven has bestowed on ml' It 1?"' '''•«» tuted my chief support ?hSh. I, ^""^ •'°»*''- «"ying at my new masteM. ^ ^''^- "P»« quainted with the duties d^il "^"^^ "« »«* requiring a strict attentll r"'"""? "P"" me, f "e of all committed °oZ^« '"^ ° '""""^ injunctions I strove to ,Z^„''?*'Pmg- These manner, sparing nehher im? " '''^ ^'"ctest them into effect" But i ^on T P*'"^ *» P»« fault-finding, was with himnA^T"^^'^^ *hat probably, had been „corl„f '^'^T^""' ^^ich *-.andw:.chhadm"Er;osre£^- :0N. V 'nted. From him to Horn- > assist him >ing at a tav- ') I engaged groom, after fter a day's J, drover and lamed place, the services ne as a per- I received ling myself to retaliate, ;»ng on the jects, suited », and for a 3xities. 'e of Horn- mploymeat, ruits kind ^is consti- ay. Upon de me ac- upon me, a serious These strictest ains to put veered that per, which th his na- >le for do- LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 29 mesticfl to remain long in his employ. The ne- cessity of my case induced me to bear his tyr- anny as patiently as possible until he became so disgustingly harsh and morose that I deter- mined to seek employment at some other place. My state, indeed, was but very little better than that of a slave ; my life being one contin- ual scene of toil and labor, without cessation. Even the holy Sabbath brought me no relief, as on that day, I had to take a horse to a cler- gyman, four miles distant, and return on foot, before breakfast ; and in the evening to go on foot to bring it back again. Added to this, I was not supplied with wholesome food, my diet consisting of a little meat, half boiled, and bread made of the coarsest materials, scarcely baked, and so full of coals that I thought they made it up with a paddle-stick, and threw it on the ash-heap to receive a moderate scorching. This, together with the cruel abuse I suffered continually from my master, made my situation almost intolerable. One morning, my master having abused me most unmercifully, I went to a neighboring clergyman, who was a magis- trate, in order to obtain redress. Unfortunate- ly, he was from home or, (as I was afterwards informed,) he would have assisted me in pro- curing it, as he had long been acquainted with the brutal manner he had treated his depen- dents. I applied to the next justice, a gentle- man of high rank, who, instead of assisting me, indignantly expressed his surprise, that a boy of my age, should have the presumption to m M 30 LIFE OF W. IJ. LICHTON. prosecute a man, whose superior influence, he said, would crush uie in dcliance of all that I could say or do. He said he " suspected that I was as deep in the mud as my mas- ter was in the mire," and that 1 ** had better go home and tell my master to get a stick and give me a good jlogging /" As niip^ht be expected, I was no more pleased with the justice's mode of law dealing, than with his insulting expres- sions ; and amused myself, as I returned back to my place, with the consideration, that had I the means, I would get a warrant for both, and crush them instead of their crushing me. I should have left this tyrant of an innkeep- er immediately, had it not been for an existing obligation, by which it was agreed that a month's notice should be given by either party, previous to separation. However, I gave him immediate notice I should leave his service in one month, according to agreement. During this last month of my service I was discovered in the following providential manner. One day, being employed as usual, a boy came and questioned me about my home and parents, in such a manner as showed him to be acquainted with my circumstances. From him I learnt, that it was intended, by a gentleman in the neighborhood, to write to my father concerning my situation, and that I might expect my father after me. To avoid this, I promised to write myself, which I accordingly did, giving a true and circumstantial account of my proceedings, promising to returm home, as soon as my time i" I :i^ rojv. influence, he of all that I " suspected as my mas- had better go ich and give be expected, st ice's mode ting expres- turned back , that had I It for both, rushing me. an innkeep- an existing >ed that a ither party, I gave him service in During discovered er. One came and )arents, in cquainted learnt, in the mcerning my father to write ig a true jeedings, my time LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 31 I tin of hire should be expired. This however, I did, not because I meant to return home, but because I could not bear the idea of having my father como to carry me thither. The reader is perhiips wondering how the boy just mentioned, became aware of my condition. With his [>utienc-e,I will show him. It will be remembered that 1 sent won' by a shepherd boy, to my parents, at the time I absconded, a considerable period elapsed before they receiv- ed it, which they no sooner did, than they were filled with anxiety and consternation. My father visited the gentleman with whom I had lived, who informed him I had left his service about two months since, with a design, as he supposed, of returning home. Upon hearing this, what were the agonies of his parental bo- som can only be conceived by those who have recreant sons. When he thought of my youth, my inexperience, and my danger, wandering about the country, exposed, for ought he knew, to hunger, storm and nakedness, and more than this, to the wiles of sharpers, and the calls of vice, lie trembled for my safety, and offered many a prayer for my preservation. Sleep was banislied from his pillow, or if it came, it was only to perplex him with dreams of horror and visions of his lost son, surround- ed with danger, or engulphed in misery. He made every possible inquiry, but without suc- cess, until at a party, in his neighborhood, he happened to mention the subject ; a gentleman from the place where I was living, who was on 32 LIFE OF W. B. IJGHTON. I t I. VJ a visit to his friends, was one of the party, ob- served that a boy answering the description given, was living at a Mr. H's, as a groom : upon which he was requested to make inquiry, and forward what information he could, as *'«peedily as convenient. The result of this re- quest, the reader has seen in the preceding page. After my father had heard from me, he sent twice by two different gentlemen, to ascertain my circumstances, relieve my wants, and im- portune me to return honye. But though I was needy, I was nevertheless, proof to all their kindnesses and my parents love. Young reader, may God grant, you may never be guilty of a breach of parental obedience ! My time at length expired, and I left Mr. H., but dreading to meet my father's frown, I did not return home, notwithstanding my promises, but went to work as a day laborer, in the out- skirts of the town. In this despicable situation 1 remained for some time, but wages being low, and labor scarce, it was with difficulty I pro- cured a scanty subsistance, which induced me to leave the place for the purpose of offering myself as a soldier. Before I take leave of this town, (the name of which I have forgotten) I cannot forbear re- lating one anecdote. While acting as groom, I was sent one morning to the lodge of a neigh- boring gentleman, when I obtained permission to visit his hunting establishment. It contain- ed a pack of hounds, (fifty-two is called a >N. LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 33 le party, ob- description 3 a groom : ake inquiry, e could, as It of this re- Q preceding me, he sent to ascertain its, and im- t though I proof to all 7e. Young / never be obedience ! ft Mr. H., own, I did y promises, the out- e situation being low, ty I pro- nduced me of offering (the name brbear re- as groom, f a neigh- B)ermission t contain- called a pack,) which were all accommodated with lodging, in a spacious and well arranged build- ing called a Dog-kennel ; in which was a cook house, and servants to keep every thing in order in relation to these animals ; so much so, that thousands of poor men in the kingdom would think themselves happy with a far less share of provision and comfort. Upon enter- ing, I found abundance of oatmeal-puddingy prepared for their entertainment, and a large stock of the raw material, awaiting their con- sumption. Being remarkably fond of oatmeal, and hungry withal, I commenced eating the raw material, and filling my mouth and hands with it, was about to leave the establishment, when the cook removed the cover from a huge boiler, filled with horse flesh, the efiiluvia of which, so affected my olfactory nerves as to empty my mouth, stomach and hands of their plenteous store of oatmeal, with which they had been so liberally filled. Since that time, oatmeal has been my abhorrence. I now left for Horncastle, as I have stated, to seek a place in my country's service, think- ing there to find support and comfort. I soon found the recruiting party belonging to the second regiment of life guards, and offered myself to them, but was rejected as being too short. Determined not to be disappointed, I set out for Lincoln. The weather being severe and stormy, as a heavy an.d deep snow had fal- len, followed by rain, I found it very diflicult travelling. In consequence of the inclemency 34 LIFE OF VV. B. LIGiiiON. mil > 'tl m of the season, the road I travelled was almost lined, in some places, with ^aine ; such as partridges, pheasants, SvC. ; which were so tame, a man might easily have caught them, without much trouble, but for that unrighteous and tyrannical law which forbad him, on pain of the severest penalties. Arriving at Lincoln, I offered .^.lyself a sec- ond time to a recruiting party, of the 33d Reg, of Infantry, but was rejected on the same prin- ciple as before mentioned. These repeated disappointments robbed me of my spirits, and made me the victim of despondency ; hope for- sook my bosom ; prosperity was hidden from my view ; poverty, with a ghastly look , stared me in the face ; home, with all its pleasures, flitted across my memory, and in the language of the prodigal, I said, '' I will arise and go to my father." The next Sabbath, in the afternoon, 1 arrived at my father's house. My parents re- ceived me with joy and kindness, and by their affectionate manner beguiled me into a relation of my troubles and wanderings, at the same time, giving me such advice as parental love deemed necessary for my safety. Would that I had obeyed it; then should I have escaped much of my subsequent sufferings ! A few of the next months of my life were spent at home, peacefully and pleasantly. The following sum- mer, a gentleman in an adjoining town applied for my services. I accordingly entered his employ, hoping to experience better treatment than heretofore. 33ut here my hard fortune ■.'7 J ON. LIFE OF W. B- LIGHTON. 35 d was almost lie ; such as ch were so aught them, unrighteous nin, on pain lysclf a sec- he 33d Reg. e same prin- 3se repeated Y spirits, and y ', hope for- den from my i , stared me sures, flitted ^uage of the d go to my afternoon, 1 parents re- md by their o a reLition t the same parental Would ave escaped A few of nt at home, owing sum- 3wn applied entered his • treatment ard fortune is followed me. My master, though a professed Christian, was passionate and cruel. Twice during my stay, he whipped me, and that too most unjustly. In the month of September, he was visited with aflliction, and during its contin- uance, I resolved to leave him the first oppor- tunity, notwithstanding my former painful expe- rience in running away. One day meeting \vith an old acquaintance, I told him the story of my woes. He persuaded me to go with him to Stamford, to join a militia corps, which was to assemble in a few days for a month's duty. I consented, and immediately returned to my master's for a few articles of clothing, where I found my brother Thomas, who had come to pay me a visit. But framing a hasty excuse, I contrived to persuade him to visit me at some other opportunity, and rejoic- ing in my iniquity, I soon joined my companion, and we set out together for the aforementioned place. Thus a second time, I threw myself from the arms of friends, and voluntarily exposed myself to the worst of evils. How thoughtless, how foolish, and how impatient are young people ! And how good has God been to me, in causing me to escape the " wiles of the devil," and teaching me the way to repose on the bosom of Jesus Christ. After a hard day's travel, we stopped at a tavern, when, to my surprise, I learnt that my companion was destitute of money, and depen- ded upon me for support. To meet his require- ments, I sold a watch, and before we arrived at 4 f 86 Ui'E OF W. B. LIOHTON. I i( i Stamford, my last shillingwas changed to gratify his intemperance. Finding ihat his company would ultimately produce my ruin, I forsook him, and was left alone, in the midst of a large population, whose hardened sympathies were not easily awakened by the language of distress, or the tear of sorrow. I again had recourse to my old method, and offered myself to a regiment in the place, but with the same success as be- fore. Necessity, now induced me to sell every article of clothing which in decency could be dispensed with, and meeting with a youth in circumstances similar to my own, I left Stam- ford in his company, to travel where fortune or !^rovidence might direct. The trifling sums of money we possessed were soon exhausted, and our last farthing expended for provision, and be- ing unable to obtain employment, we had no other alternative but to throw ourselves on pub- lic charity for support. The idea that we were in the situation of common beggars, exposed to the anathemas of those to whom we might ap- ply for aid, was galling in the extreme, but the calls of hunger, becoming more loud and vocif* erous, we presented ourselves at the door of a wealthy farmer, and with a piteous tone, told our affecting tale, but his heart, rendered hard by familiarity with distress, refused to be mel- ted, and, with every indication of displeasure, he bid us go our way. Thus failed, in our first attempt, we proceeded on our journey, faint and weary ; and, in all probability, might have sunk from exhaustion, had not my companion found ON. iged to gratify his company I in, I forsook 1st of a large pathies were ge of distress, d recourse to to a regiment access as be- 3 to sell every incy could be ;h a youth in , I left Stam- ere fortune or •ifling sums of xhausted, and k^ision, and be- lt, we had no elves on pub- that we were rs, exposed to we might ap- Ireme, but the >ud and vocif- the door of a ►us tone, told jndered hard led to be mel- displeasure, !d, in our first |ney, faint and [ht have sunk ►anion found LIFE OF W. D. LIGHTON. 37 a distant relation of his, in that part of the country through which we passed, from whom we obtained a morsel^ the old woman (his rela- tive) being any thing but a cheerful giver. Wo arrived that night at Sleaford, a populous town, ornamented with elegant modern buildings, an- cient edificles, the remains of gothic splendors, and beautiful, in no small degree, with the most delightful of nature's productions. But alas f to me all was uninteresting and sad ; for out of the numerous habitations, not one afforded me shelter ; out of the prolific stores of food it contained, not one morsel offered itself to meet my pressing wants. I felt solitary, amid the hundreds who flocked along the busy streets. I sighed for my father's house. After some consultation, we agreed to seek a shelter under the roof of some friendly inn, though conscious that we had not wherewith to pay our bills, and unwilhng to cheat to any amount, we retired to bed without any thing to eat for supper. But, so great was our fatigue, that we slept but little, and when the first beams of the morning shed their rays into our cham- ber, we rose, and with much trepidation, descen- ded the stairs, when, finding none but the do- mestics of the house stirring, we bade them prepare breakfast by the time of our return from a short walk ; but we took a road we nev- er retraced, and thus cheated them out of their due for our accommodation. Here again, my companion discovered an old acquaintance, from whom wo obtained a hearty meal. ^ 36 I LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. We now shaped our course to Lincoln, being obliged to beg our support on the way. We applied for relief at a rich gentleman's house, the lady of which, gave us such a supply of food, that it sustained us through the day. Late in the evening we entered the city, and adopted the same, measure for a lodging, as before, but with less success. For on leaving the house in the morning, we were pursued by some of the family and overtaken, but after receiving a severe reprehension, were permitted to proceed. Lincoln, the capital of Lincolnshire, is one of the most noted cities in jb^ngland, that indu- ces me to speak a little about it here,which may not be uninteresting to the reader. *^It is seat- . d on the side of a steep hill on the Witham, which here divides into two streams. It had formerly, fifty churches, now reduced to thir- teen, besides the Cathedral. The Cathedral is admired for its interior architecture, which is the richest, and lightest Gothic style, and its great bell, called 'J'om, of Lincoln, requires twelve men to ring it." Leaving this place we were completely dis- couraged. Our hearts sunk within us. We talked about home, and its former comforts, un- til we were filled with grief, and mortified at our disappointments, and yet, seeing no way to prosper, we agreed to go back to our parents. With aching hearts and wearied limbs we com- menced our journey homewards, pursuing our way in gloomy silence, for our sorrows were '*! Si. LIFE OF W. D. LIGHTON. 39 coin, being way. We m's house, supply of the day . 3 city, and odging, as on leaving pursued by but after e permitted ire, is one > thatindu- ^which may "It is seat- p Witham, s. It had ;ed to thir- Jathedral is which is le, and its I, requires Dletely dis- us. We nforts, un- lortified at no way to r parents. \s we com- rsuing our ows were 4 too big for utterance. On the way, I was for- tunate to hire out to a gentleman who also took pity on us and gave us something to eat. I agreed to return and fulfil my engagaements on Monday, the following week. He gave me a shilling, as earnest money^ on which we subsist- ed the rest of the way home. Upon arriving near my father's, my companion left me and I saw him no more Being left alone, I retired to a lonely spot, where, in happier days, I had indulged in many a flight of youthful fancy. But now, dejection sat upon my brow, and sorrow brooded around my heart. The solemn stillness of nature ac- corded with my feelings, and seemed to sympa- thize in my distress. Here I stayed, absorbed in deep reflection, until the appearance of my brother Thomas, aroused me to a sense of my situation. His presence, for a while, soothed my feelings, until he informed me that my father was highly incensed against me for my rebel- lious conduct. Then my grief became insup- portable, and I scarcely dared make my return known to the rest of the family. At length I ventured to appear before my offended father, who was so charged with grief and passion, that he treated me with the most distant cold- ness. He talked to me seriously, as though he was doing it for the last time ; and gave me some very strict injunctions in regard to my fu- ture life and conduct, to which I promised im- plicit obedience. It being on the Sabbath day, \Vhen I arrived 4» 40 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. i r' at home, I was under the necessity of returning back to my place on the morrow, as it was the time I had agreed upon with the gentleman by whom I was hired. I accordingly informed my father of my engagement, and stated my wish was to fulfil my obligation, to which he answer- ed in an angry manneVy^HIiatl might go, and he wished I 7icver would come hack again, jor he never wanted to see me more, and he cared not where I went, or what became of r.ie /" This an- swer of my father, and the feelings he manifes- ted towards me, stung me to the very heart. Indeed it was like the shock of a thunderbolt. It rendered me powerless to say or do any thing that might atone for the grief I had occa- sioned him. I wished for the hour of separa- tion as one that was anxious to be delivered from a heavy doom. I thought too, as he pos- sessed such feelings towards me, I never could occasion him any more trouble by returning home, but would, (if I could not succeed in domestic service,) enter the service of my country, or go to some foreign part, rather than home. Early in the morning, I was visited by Mr. Ingram, a neighboring gentleman of advanced age, who reasoned with me, and counselled me as a tender father, telling me for my encour- agement, my father's design to settle me in bu- siness, as soon as my age and experience in the world would be commendable. After present- ing me with a small sum of money, he took his farewell of me and we parted. While I was LIFE OF W. IJ. LIGIITON. 41 eturning L was the icman by rmed my my wish I answer- 0, and he n, Jor he cared not This aii- manifes- sry heart, nderbolt. f do any iad occa- f separa- delivered s he pos- VGX could returning cceed in B of my ther than by Mr. advanced elled me encour- ne in bu- ce in the present- took his le I was meditating on what he had said and done for me, I was met by my father, who I perceived still retained the same feelings towards me. He was about to attend some business from home, and was all prepared to proceed, when we met again for the last time, and parted without say- ing a word. I gazed upon him as he receded from me in hopes he would return and give me one consolitory word, together with his farewell advice ; but he passed on and left me in cruel silence. Since which time I have never had the satisfaction to see him ! This, to me, was worse than death. To be treated with neglect by one who had always been one of the kindest of fathers. My soul was pained, though I could not but attribute it to my own folly, and misconduct. And now, dear young reader, permit me to give you a word of advice and caution, on this important subject ; viz. obedience to parents. If you enjoy them, it is your duty to obey them. They are the authors of your being, and under God, have been the means of your preservation. They have afforded you all in their power, to make you respectable in life. Then love them for it. Remember there is a degree of affec- tionate respect which is due to parents, that no person else can properly claim. For a consid- erable time, parents stand, as it were, in the place of God to their children ; and therefore, rebellion against their lawful commands, has been considered as rebellion against God. How then can you expect mercy from him, until you I i l^ I ll I 1 JW I! : 1 f ft: i I 111 I: ) n 42 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. obey your parents ? Nay, you never will find mercy from him whose injunction is, "Children obey your parents in the Lord," until you are fully resolved to obey this important principle. See Col. iii. 20. Eph. vi. 1. 3Iatt. xv. 4. Exod. XX. 12. The disregard of this requirement is the cause of a vast proportion of the individual wretchedness, sorrow, misery and death, found in the world. Most who come to an untimely end, are obliged to confess, that this, with the breach of the Sahbathy were the principal causes of their ruin. Reader ! art thou guilty ? Take timely warning, humble thyself, therefore, be- fore Ood, and repent, or thou wilt be damned for ever. From such a curse, may God save us ail ! After breakfast my mother informed me of her intention to accompany me as far as Bos- ton. Accordingly we prepared for our depart- ure, when I took an aftectionate farewell of the family, telling my brother Thomas in particular, I should not see them at least, for ten years. They joined in giving me expressions of regard, and I left the endearing circle. But O ! what were my feelings ? I cannot describe them. My heart sunk within me ; and I was led to give vent to my feelings in a flood of grief, as I looked back for the last time, to take a farewell view of the beloved home of my youth. As my mother and myself proceeded in company, she improved her time in giving the best advice of which she was capable. Upon arriving at T will find "Children il you are principle, itt. XV. 4. nt is the Individual ith, found untimely with the )al causes Y ? Take fore, be- I damned Jod save id me of as Bos- r depart- sll of the irticular, n years. ^ regard, ) ! what >e them. 3 led to ief, as I farewell As my ny, she Ivice of ving at \/ f THE PARTING SCENE LIFE OF W. n. LIGIITON. 43 Boston, she purchased for me a suit of clothes, and then accompanied me into the church-yard — there in solitude to take her last embrace of her wayward child. That sacred spot — that lonely grave-yard, is still impressed upon my memory. It was there, my mother pressed her last warm kiss of affection to my burning cheeks ; there I received her last embrace ; there I heard her last words. They still float upon my ears, even now do I seem to hear her last expression — "Farewell my son, be a good boy." A motliers's love, how strong it binds I Like heavenly bliss, 'tis sweet, and dear, 'Tie there distress, a solace, finds. Her love we trust without a fear. We parted on this delightful spot, that is yet dear to my memory. The solemnity of the place, together with the affecting scene of sep- arating, had such a lasting and powerful charm that it has rendered the grave-yard a desirable retreat for pious meditation. The Jlast faltering accents which fell from her quivering lips will ever be remembered with strong sentiments of affectionate regard. O, there was a sacred sweetness which I felt in her voice, as she ut- tered her last words, that has such a charm upon my soul, that the ago of time will never erase ! And, could I reward her for the love and kindness she shewed me, in this my never forgotten trouble, I would, with the utmost pleasure and delight, seize the first moments 46 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. ever dropped from the lips of woman kind, es- pecially from those possessing her rank in life. Indeed I was glad when I had brought the old lady to her own door, and thus freed myself from the company of an abominable old scold. It was my comfort, on my way back to reflect that she had at least, partial reward in the mis- ery which is consequent upon the possession of so vile a disposition. "A man who has such a woman for his wife, is like a tenant who has got a cottage with a bad roof, through every part of which, the rain either drops or pours. He can neither sit, stand, work, eat, drink or sleep without being exposed to these droppings! Miserable is the man who is in such a case, with either house or wife ! " The effect of this scolding was that the house-keeper left her situation ; and her place was supplied by one the very opposite of her- self, and the exact counterpart of our old scold. She from some cause or other, conceived a dis- like towards me, and consequently, poured volumes of complaints against me into the ears of my employer, who believed the whole, with no other evidence than her assertion. I was thus doomed to be deprived of my situation ; for one morning he called me, and presented me with the miserable sum of one shilling, (which was all I received for about six weeks work) and told me I might consider myself dis- missed from his service. With this small sum I left for Lincoln, where I spent the following night ; from thence, after 4» LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 47 I, es- i life, le old lyself scold, •eflect 3 mis- ession ssuch no has every pours, nnk or apings! a case, lat the r place 3f her- l scold, i a dis- poured e ears J, with I was lation ; jsented [hilling, weeks ^elf dis- I, where , after disposing of such articles of clothing as I could best spare to obtain means to travel with, I went to Doncaster, and from thence to Leeds in Yorkshire. I found much here to afford amusement, and to divert my mind from my lonely situation, so long as my money lasted ; but when that was gone every hope fled with it. Hence the old proverb — "a man may as well be without his brains as without money in England." But before I take leave of this place I will just stop to mention the peculiar character of the market ; which will no doubt, be interesting to many of my young inquiring readers. Leeds has been a long time famous for the woollen manufacture, and is one of the largest and most flourishing towns in the coun- try. The market is perhaps one of the finest in the world. The mode of doing business is indeed peculiarly striking. "At 6 o'clock in the summer, and about 7 in the winter the market bell rings ; upon which, in a few min- utes, without hurry, noise, or the least disor- der, the whole market is fllled, all the benches covered with cloth, as close to one another as the pieces can lie longways, each proprietor standing behind his own peace. As soon as the bell has ceased ringing the factors and buyers, of all sorts, enter the hall, and walk up and down between the rows, as their occasions direct. When they have pitched upon their cloth, they lean over to the clothier, and by a whisper, in the fewest words imaginable, the price is stated. One asks, the other bids, and 48 LIFE \jt W. B. LIGHTON. they agree or disagree in a moment. In a little more than an hour all the business is done, ten or twenty thousand pound's worth of cloth, and sometimes more, are bought and sold with a whisper only ; the laws of the market here be- ing more strictly observed than at any place in England." The rich and splendid gas works, by which the town is lighted up throughout at night, make no small addition to its beauty. During my stay here, I was indefatigable in my efforts to obtain employment, but all was in vain. I was sadly situated now, as winter was approaching, and to be friendless and money- less di^ring the inclement season of the year, would be at once dangerous and painful. To avoid this, I visited Wakefield and Barnsley, two noted towns, but with no better success, except that I made out to obtain a few days work. Upon this, I returned to Leeds, as the fair was about to commence, hoping to gain some small employment during that season of noise and bustle. After having spent a few days in a fruitless search for work, during which time I subsisted on charity, and seeing hov small a prospect existed of my escaping starva- tion, I determined once more to try my fortune at enlistment, as being compelled to it from o6* solute necessity* I accordingly made applica- • — 11^ ♦Necessity often compels us to do things that are repugnant to our feelin|s and int* rest; and which we would not do, were we relieved from the necessity of doing it, merely for the preset* yation of life, and its enjoyments. Thus it was, and probably is now the case with vast numbers of the honest aud industriout poor of Knglttnd, who, after they have been driven to deiUtu- n LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 49 n a little one, ten otli, and d with a iiere be- place in 3 works, ghout at luty. gable in 11 was in nter was money- le year, ful. To {arnsley, success, few days s, as the to gain eason of nt a few ig which ng hov starvt,- fortune from ab» applica- repugnant ot do, were the prcser* d probably industrious to deitittt* f^ tion to the Sergeant of the 33d Regiment, who enlisted me for the 6th Regiment, which was then lying at Leeds. I was immediatly march- ed before the Colonel, and officers of the Regi- ment, and passed the standard, but on being more circumspectly examined, I was pronoun- ced unfit for service, being half an inch shorter than the height required by law for soldiers of that Regiment. The Colonel jocosely answer- ed, on my rejection, that if I wished to be a soldier, I must " go home and grow a little more, after which, he should have no objection against taking me." Disappointed, I r;tj. t went to York, a city noted for its splendic bsdral, which is reck- oned the most elegant ^**a magnificent Gothic structure in the kingdom — that in Lincoln perhaps excepted. Passing from thence to the next town I found the people in a state of tumult and disorder, being engaged in burning an effigy of the reigning king, (George IV.) whose cruelty and baseness towards his wifa, (Caroline) had drawn upon him the odium and contempt, not only of his own subjects, but of every feeling and enlightened man in the world, who had become fairly acquainted with the subject. Calling at a tavern, I was informed that a recruiting Sergeant w^as stationed there for the night ; upon which, I decided to try once more to become a soldier, for I was now tion, through the scarcity of labor and the oppression of gov- ernment, enlist for soldiers as an anylum to ecreen them from their impending miseries. 5* m^"j.i!£~ u ! -JmMiWJfcB « u a gt *« 50 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 1:1: in the most deplorable situation, being entirely destitute of money, or friends, I retired to bed faint and weary, not having had much to eat during the day, and no means of procuring a supper at night. When morning arrived, I procured a large quantity of paper, and cutting it to the shape and size of my feet, for I ivas determined not to be too short this time, drew on my stockings, and thus heis^htened, went again to undergo a dread ordeal. Placing myself beneath the standard, I seemed tall enough, and should have passed had it not been for the scrutiny of the sergeant : Said he, "are your stockings thick .^" I replied, No : Upon which he went to examining the bottoms of my feet^ with ae much care as if he had been afraid of taking the itch. My contrivance was of course discovered, and I was dismissed with a repri- mand so severe, that it taught me to be cautious how I used paper to add to my growth. Passing from thence, on my way to the next town, I entered a tavern, in hopes to obtain something from the hand of charity. I had not been there long before I was noticed by a gentleman, who perceiving my dejection, took pity on me, and in some measure relieved my wants. He said he was in want of a young man to enter for him as a substitute in the mili- tia, and would give four pounds bounty to any one who would engage. On enquiring if I was willing to engage for him, I told him I was, when an immediate agreement was entered in- tO; and I returned home with the gentleman^ tirely )d ta zh to uring ^ed, I itting r ivas sw on again nyself ;h,and )V the your whicU Y feet, aid of bourse repri- utious to any if I was, led in- $man, LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 51 i :^ who hired my board until the day the staff offi- cers met for swearing in their subjects, which was about a week. The day arrived, when, after due inspection, I was sworn, and my name enrolled to serve five years, during the war, in the North York militia. •After every thing had been completed «s respected my en- listment, a very unexpected turn took place in the mind of my substitutor, who, after all I could say or do, would not pay me but two pounds — half the sum agreed upon, but said he would pay the other half when the regiment as- sembled for duty.* Dissatisfied and somewhat vexed withal, I promised within myself I would never meet to do duty for him, but would go into some other part of the kingdom. Accordingly the next morning I left the gen- tleman, militia and all behind, and mounted the stage, in order to go to London, in which I was soon carried to Stamford, and from thence i proceeded on foot to Huntingdon, where fall- ing in company with a young man, who had re- cently visited the great metropolis, he dissua- ded me from my design of going thither, on the ground of my inexperience, and the dan- ger to which I should consequently be exposed in that laboratory of vice and crime. » ■■ — ,- , r * The method pursued in England, with the militia corps, is different from that pursued in America. There they only draft 8o many out of each town, which is but few in number, and each Regiment assembles one month every year to regular duty. During which term government provides them with a suit of regimental uniform, gun and equipments, and receives the same back at the end of tlie term of their sen ice. 52 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. r,'i i ! i !l i !■ ! I now turned my vacillating steps towards Coventry, when I again began to experience much evil in my circumstances and while m this situation almost entirely destitute, far from friends and in the midst of a people who would take but little,if any pity at all upon me, I submitted myself to the most painful train of reflections. Despair was depicted in my feel- ings, while melancholy with her train of depres- sive gloom, became my abiding companion. As I was travelling in the dusk of one beautiful evening, I fell in company with a young man to whom I related my sufferings. He (the young mfin) perceiving my trouble, and dejec- tion of mind, spake comforting, and gave me good counsel that had some happy effect upon my feelings, which will induce me to remember him, and the interview, with pleasure. Just after we had parted, a post chaise passed me going in the direction of C, when without hesitation, I jumped on, unobserved by the coachman, and soon arrived at the place of my destination. The same evening I sought to obtain relief, but in vain, until I thought I must starve to death,as I had not a penny to help myself with; and after forming a resolution to offer myself for the army, I made inquiries of a man if there was a recruiting party in the place,he informed me there was, and knowing he should obtain a small sum from the sergeant, for his trouble in case I enlisted, went immediately with me to their rendezvous and introduced me to a ser- geant of the staff corps. ^1 (1 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 53 ience lie in e, far who n me, Eiin of f feel- epres- anion. autiful g man e (the dejec- ve me it upon ember Just ied me irithout 3y the of my relief, rve to f with; myself f there formed btain a uble in me to a ser- m Afler some inquiry into my circumstances, the officer gave me a penny's worth of bread, with a little cheese and beer, which was prin- cipally all I had eaten that day, and travelled about thirty miles. In the morning the sergeant before he had enlisted me, took me to the stan- dard, but found I was half an inch too short for any regiment in the service, save one, which was the 60th Rifles. He said he would enlist me for that regiment, as I should not be able to enter in any other. Afler many a flaming description of the pleasures of a soldier's life, and telling me withal, that the regiment waa then stationed in Americay I eagerly seized the opportunity to enlist from the fond anticipation that I should see a country so famous, and to which my eager disposition craved to travel, as the reader has been already informed. -Being pronounced fit for service, I was the next day taken before an officer for the purpose of taking oath, or what is generally termed swearing in. The gentleman asked me how long I would serve ; whether for a limited term, or for life ; to which I deliberately replied / would serve during life.^ The oath was then — -- - ■■ — — - ■ — - ■ * This was one of the most imprudent steps I could possibly have taken, to inlist for life : as it involved ine into a perpe- tuity of misery and suffering all my days. But the candid read- er, after considering well my case, will not remain long at a loss to answer every inquiry he may make respecting it. The reason why I did so is too plain and obvious. I was in the firat Elace an inexperienced boy. In the second placel was courted y flatterers who might be said to seduce me by their bewitching descriptions of a soldier's life; who after they had enlisted ma (for which they received a small bounty for every recruit) cared ■ I — Aw TT 54 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. aealedy and I was delivered up to military com- mand. Thus^ at the age of fifteen, on the 6th of December, 1820, I became a soldier in His Britannic Majesty's 60th rifle corps. notliing more about me. In the third plctce, and most impor- tant of all, I had occasioned great trouble to my parents, my father especially, through my disobedience. Therefore, to have returned home would have incurred a heavier censure ; and made him more angry, and my life more miserable. I had therefore resolved never more to return. Added to this the misery and entire destitution of my circumstances, and the deep trouble of mind of which I was then the unhappy subject, I inconsiderate- ly without any regard to the future threw myself away, and to repeat my father's words, "/cared not what became ofm§.** How rash, and how imprudent are young people! and yet how merciful is God to bear with their reoellion ! Young reader be- ware ! ■ These were the reasons why I was led to enlist for life, I have therefore now one favor to ask of the reader ,wheth« er he be a child or a parent ; that before he casts his censure upon me for my imprudent move, he will stop, and rather than inflict it,he will cover my youthful folly with a mantle of mercy, as he may have children whom througn the passion of youth and the treachery of flatterers may be led to a similar evil. May God grant that parents may never know the sorrows and troub- les arising from disobedient children ! Hear this ye parents, train up your offspring in the fear of God. Begin wiUi them from their cradle, and impress obedience at this early period of their existence. Distill the holy principles of the Bible, and of the glorious religion of heaven, when the mind is young and tender ; for it is then the most susceptible of receiving that knowledge and wisdom which will form the future character of the man, and render him a blessing to society and the world. Let this important duty be persevereingly attended to, and we shall soon see tlmt wretchedness decreasing in the world of which the base and cruel neglect of tliis duty is its legitimate cause. But a word to the youth. Young reader, you see what evils follow close upon the heels of the disobedient. Areyou of that stamp 1 If you are, take timely warning from my example, or you will ruin both your soul and body forever. Do you ceaso to regard the counsel of your parents 1 If you do, you cease to J -yt LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 55 r com- he6th in His 3t iinpor- rents, my J, to have and made therefore lisery and ;rouble of nsiderate- ly, and to eofm:** d yet how reader be- enlist for der,wheth- lis censure ather tlian 5 of mercy, ' youth and ivil. May and troul>> parents, wiUi them rly period Bible, and is young eiving that laracter of the world. 0, and we world of legitimate what evils ^ou of that example, or you ceaso ou cease to The reflection has probably arisen in the breast of the thoughtful reader, that here are many adventures recorded for so young a man to pass through or experience. This I ac- knowledge, but simply reply ,that I have strictly adhered to truth, in the whole of my statements. At the close of this chapter, let me most affec- tionately tell the discontented youth who reads these pages, that in my early, and subsequent trials, he may see the evils that await him if he allow discontent to have its sway, and perhaps far greater ones than these ; for if the author has happily escaped from iniquity and vice to which he was exposed during these wander- ings, it is alone through the grace of God who has preserved him. CHAPTER II. From the time he enlisted, to his being embodied with his regi- ment in Montreal, Lower Cannda. I am now commencing a new era of my life, and I would that I were better able to describe the scenes through which I have passed, for even now, I feel my spirit rising to God in ad- oration and thanksgiving for that Providence which has watched over and protected me in regard the counsel of God ; and miserable indeed is thy soul, if while thou livest tliou art not governed by any filial regard to either ! Turn then to the path of obedience, virtue, and religion, and so shalt thou secure a long, happy, and blessed inheritance ! tr- -^' ~. ' MW 'llll I I ' 56 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITOX. . r :i :' : 1 \ S ) ii all my troubles. In view of the goodness of God to me, in these things, 1 am constrained to exclaim with David, " J3/es3 ihe Lord, O my soul and forget not all his benefits. ^^ I remained in Coventry about ten days wait- ing for the sergeant to complete the number of recruits he was commissioned to raise. These days I spent in visiting the different places of recreation, in company with my fellow recruits. I felt also, much concerned that my parents should know my situation, as they had not heard from me since I left home. But fearing my new scene of lifb would induce my father to visit me, procure my discharge, and take mo home, I staggered to determine what to do. But after a few serious reflections upon this subject, and making his case my own, I wrote him a plain account of all that I had done, re- questing at the same time an immediate answer, but receiving orders to march the next week, I wrote a second time simply stating the fact of my departure and the place of my destination. On the morning of our departure, we were paraded before the staff officers, by whom we were asked if we had any just cause of com- plaint. We answered negatively. Upon which, one of the officers gave us a few words of ad* vice, and caution, which was highly necessary as almost every man exhibited the utmost en- thusiasm and glee. Under the command of an experienced officer we proceeded on our march to the Isle of Wight. Our journey was easy, we seldom exceeded sixteen miles per day. ^ i ess of ned to O my s wait- lumber These Lces of jcruits. parents [•dd not fearing ither to ake me : to do. on this I wrote )ne, re- inswer, yeek, I fact of nation, were om we f com- which, of ad- essary oSt en- d of an march 3 easy> er day. LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 57 However, on our way we met with serious diffi- culties arising from the incivility of those land- lords upon whom we were billetted during our march. To them the sight of a body of recruits was always disgusting, which disgust led them to treat these men in the most shameful, and sometimes almost brutal manner. Hence we were often put into beds, the sight of which would make a decent man shudder, and cause his flesh to crawl. Whenever we received good usage from this quarter, we failed not to treat them in the most respectful manner in return ; but on receiving contrary treatment we annoy- ed them by hooting all night like a party of owls and careless of threats, and importunity, we constantly kept our ungracious host from sleep until the dawn of day bid us take our depar- ture. At one place, when the hour arrived which called us to retire, we were required to follow the landlord, a command we cheerfully obeyed, hoping from the appearance of the place, to meet with comfortable beds and bed- ding. But our hopes were soon blasted from the continued progression of our march, for he pursued his way through the back yard towards the stables. Indeed each man now looked sor- rowful, expecting we were to be stabled, like horses. But having taken us through various windings, he at length brought us to an upper loft, connected with some of the out houses, when he left us with the following compliment : "Gentlemen, take which bed you please." Sorrowful sight ! To be sure we had a light, 6 58 LIFE OF \V. B. LIGHTON. if [| ! i ! n II iH 1 but our light served but to make known the horrors of our worse than J^Tewgate cell. Like the moon in a cloudy night, bursting fitfully through the scowling vapors, she serves but to give the benighted traveller a glimpse of the craggy rocks and tremendous dangers which surround him, but afford him no relief from his trouble. So with our light ; it served but to increase our disgust, and to make known the character of those who had visited the disa- greeable spot before us. The room was large and filthy, containing a number of heaps, from their appearance I should scarcely call them beds.. Beds however they were, composed of the coarsest materials and any thing but clean. The walls were black and filthy having been smoked with the flare of the candle and portray- ed with the most ghastly images, so abhorrent that they reminded me of the chambers of hell. And indeed I should have pronounced the place a fitter habitation for devils than for rational men. Had I been alone, I should have been alarmed ; — as it was, I felt as if I was in the den of some wretched miscreant. Finding there was no help in the case, from constraint, we submitted, and composed ourselves in the best way we could. Upon the approach of morning we took and heaped bed upon bed into one fil^ thy pile, and then prosecuted our march to, and through the city of Oxford, so famed for its uni- versity ,and also as being the place where many of the followers of Jesus have, amidst flames of fire, "given up the ghost." At an early V I LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 59 wn the Like fitfully but to I of the which ifom his i but to iwn the ,e disa- as largo )S, from ill them )osed of it clean. Qg been portray- bhorrent of hell, he place rational ,ve been l3 in the ng there aint, we the best morning one jil^ to, and ir its uni- te many it flames an early I If hour on the tenth day of our march, we arrived at Southampton, a considerable town deriving its importance from its contiguity to the sea. It was at this place that the reproof of Canute to his flattering courtiers, so often mentioned by writers, is said to have occurred. As it is pos- sible all my young readers may not have read it, for their amusement and instruction I will here relate it. "As Canute the Great, King of England, was walking on the sea shore at Southampton, accompanied by his courtiers, who offered him the grossest flattery, comparing him to th(« greatest heroes of antiquity, and asserting that his power was more than human, he ordered a chair to be placed on the beach, while the tide was coming in. Sitting down with a majestic air, he thus addressed himself to the sea : — "Thou sea, that art a part of my dominions, and the laud whereon I sit, is mine : no one ever broke my commands with impunity. I, there- fore, charge thee to come no farther upon my lands, and not to presume to wet either my feet or my robe, who am thy Sovereign." But the sea, rolling on as before, and without any res- pect, not only wets the skirts of his robe, but likewise splashed his thighs ; on which be rem up suddenly, and addressing himself to his at- tendants, upbraided them with their ridiculous flattery, and very judiciously expatiated on the narrow and limited power of the greatest mon- arch on earth. " Flatterers who praise great men, for their imaginary merit, lull them to 60 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. I if: ' ii sleep to their real miseries." Then reader beware of flattery : of which the poet says, ''Alas ! thy sweet perfidious voice, betrays His wanton ears, with thy Syrian baits. Thou wrapp'st his eyes, in mist, then boldly lays. Thy lethal gins their crystal gates. Thou lock'et every sense, with thy false keys. All willing prisoners to thy close deceits. His ear most nimble, where it deaf should be. His eye most blind, where most it ought to see. And when his hearts most bound, then thinks himself most free." The hour of our embarkation at length arriv- ed, and after a few hours pleasant sail we land- ed at Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, and proceed- ed on ;Our march to the garrison, near Newport, at which place we arrived late in the evening. On the day following we were inspected by the board of officers for that purpose, and sent to our respective detachments, where we immedi- ately commenced our new profession. And soon I found my painful experience, that a sol- dier^s life was far from being so easy and pleas- ing as I had been taught to believe. I soon found that toil and fatigue were incident to his life ; and that the plea of youth, and inexperi- ence could not be admitted, nor urged as a ground for exemption from duties which my strength was scarcely sufficient to perform. 1 shall here enter into a few particulars of my experience,that my readers may form some idea of a British soldier's life. Having fully entered upon this career, I was sent to the field to become minutely acquainted with the duties of my station : and notwith- LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 61 ^ ■ I reader lys, lays. B. ks himself th arriv- ve land- jroceed- rewport, jvening. d by the sent to immedi- I. And at a sol- d pleas- I soon it to his aexperi- ^ed as a hich my brm. 1 •s of my me idea r, I was |uainted lot with- standing my ungracefulness at first, I was soon pronounced ^^fit for duty.^^ In these schools for military instruction, were employed men of the most tyrannical dispositions, whose unmerciful proceedings, begat in their scholars, feelings of decided antipathy. Whereas, had they pursu- ed a milder course, they might have secured the good will of all who were placed beneath them. But instead of this, the least offence offered to these myrmidons, was resented with the most brutal ferocity, and often in a manner totally repugnant to the discipline of the Army; which, though severe in itself, does not counte- nance acts of tyranny on the part of subalterns. Their conduct towards us, had it been known, would have produced an expulsion. But fear bound our lips, and we submitted ourselves to these tyrannical monsters. But our trouble did not end here. Would that it had, we should not have had so much ^ause to repine, and mourn. We were abso- lutely deprived of many of the necessaries of life. Our daily allowance was but one pound of bread ; one pound of meat ; a pint of soup; and a pint of tea, with three or four potatoes, per man ; which in itself was scarcely suffi- cient had it been of good quality and measure. But they dealt out the miserable stuff as choice as if it had been gold. Our bread was compo- sed of the coarsest materials, and such was its adhesive qualities, that if a piece was thrown against the wall, there it would remain. In consequence of this scanty allowance the 6* 62 LIFE OF W. B. UGHTON. ft ! s. ■ i! 1 I; f ill I! ! young troops became strongly addicted to pil- [ering, while many, from a principle of honesty, actually endured the pangs of hunger. So great was the distress, that every article of clothing, that could possibly be spared, was disposed of to procure the necessaries of life. Many of my companions in military adventure, now be- came anxiously concerned about the future. Some applied to their parents for money to procure their discharge, which many of them obtained. A very painful circumstance occurred during our stay in this place which made every young soldier lament the sad step he had taken, and almost to wish he had never been born. A very tespectable young man, apparently of so- ber habits, (he was married) was so affected with a sense of the wretchedness into which he had thrown himself, that he v/rote to his pa- rents for money to procure his discharge. But unable to procure the 'necessary means from thenif he adopted a measure, which not even his pungent distress, and pressing want could possibly justify. He was roomed with the pay- master sergeant of the regiment, and from him he secretly purloined tu^enty pounds; a sum suf- ficient to effect the desired object, which he enclosed in a letter, directed to his father. The loss, however, was soon disco , ered. For m lodging it in the post office, the post master having fears respecting it, made inquiry at the source from whence it was missing, and he was according imprisoned, tried by a court martial; ft II ,>»> LIFE OF W. B* LIGHTON. 63 I to pil- onesty, )0 great iothing, osed of [any of low be- future. loney to )f them d during y young ten, and orn. A ly of so- afFectcd ^hich he his pa- ^e. But ans from lot even nt could the pay- rom him sum suf- hich he er. The For in t master y at the 4 he was martial, 11 convicted, and sentenced to thd cruel and igno- minious punishment of three hundred lashes. During his confinement, driven almost to des- peration by his situation, and doubtless while deprived of the right use of his reason, he wrote an instrument with his own blood, in which he swore unhallowed allegiance to the Devil, and expressed his intention of joining confederacy with the prince of darkness, there- bv to evade the force of his cruel sentence. "This instrument was discovered, and presented to the Adjutant, who after pondering a moment over its mysterious contents, laconically obser- ved, " If the Devil is in him we will whip him out." The morning arrived for the execution of the sentence, and preparations were made for its accomplishment About two thousand troops were marched to the 8pot,where a square of four men in depth was soon formed. Pfext arrived the trembling culprit, who was stripped , and tied to a triangle, prepared for the purpose. When the order for commanding punishment was given, the general sympathy of the troops was expressed by a universal groan. Every blow which was inflicted, while it lacerated the back of the culprit, pained the heart of every soldier, and many turned aside from beholding the horrid scene. The bleeding criminal,cried in loud, and piercing accents for pardon, until the oft repeated blows created a deathish numb- ness upon the flesh and he became insensible to pain. At length, from the loss of blood, which flowed freely from his wound, he fainted, and § trr- 64 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. I I ,!': was conveyed from the brutal scene to the ho8« pital. This painful circumstance produced iii my mind many a cutting reflection, and gave birth to a fear, that by some unfortunate act, I should bring upon myself a similar punishment. Fain would I have petitioned my father to procure my discharge ; but the remembrance of my un- grateful act towards him, prevented me ; and 1 concluded I would bear my ills in silence ; consolling myself with the hope of better days when joined to my regiment in Canada. Another circumstance tended much to mili- tate against our peace. We were not permit- ted to ^o, on any account whatever, beyond the sound of the drum. One mile only in circum- ference, was the extent oi territory we were allowed ; nor could we travel beyond this limit, without exposing ourselves to the treatment of deserters, which punishment would have been the infliction of seven hundred lashes, or im- prisonment, with transportation for life. We had had one specimen of this species of pun- ishment and numbers were then in close con- finement, awaiting their fate, with an anxiety almost as painful as the punishment. But not- withstanding these coffent warnings, I was once nearly involved in a like disaster. One beautiful aflernoon, as we were taking a walk through the streets of Newport, near which place we were stationed, the sight of an ancient castle enkindled within us a desire to visit its antiquated walls ; which, from report, ii LIFE OP W. D. LIGHTON. 65 3 h08- ih my 3 birth should Fain rocure my un- and I lence ; 3r days o mili- permit- ond the circum- e were is limit, nent of e been or im- We of pun- je con- anxiety 3ut not- as once •t aking a near it of an esire to report, we learned had been the place of the oonfine- tocnt of the French prisoners during the war. So solicitous were we to visit this place, that without respect to our restricted limits, we pur- sued our way towards it, and arrived without interruption at the spot ; being then about four miles from the garrison, and three miles beyond the line of our bounds. We were highly grat- ified with the scenery around the castle — it was strikingly beautiful. But our pleasures were soon intererrupted by a remembrance of the danger to which we were exposing ourselves, and the rapid approach of the hour appointed for our return to duty. But not contented with what we had seen of the exterior, as we walked around it, we resolved if possible, to gain ad- mittance to the interior, as it was famed for the magnificence of its architecture. We accor- dingly pursued our way through a narrow pas- sage to the first door, which being open, wo entered witliout ceremony, and advanced to a stupendous arch, where was a door of no ordinary size and workmanship, which repelled our uni- ted, and most powerful efforts to open. We looked through some crevices, made by the mutilating finger of time, to discover, if possi- ble, what objects were within ; but could dis- cover naught, save what appeared to be other doors, equally ponderous as the one which im- peded our progress. We next tried to arouse the attention of the inmates,by gently knocking; but receiving no answer, we became more loud in our demands, and pulled lustily upon a rope 66 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. M I I 'l Mf to which a bell was attached. But no answer We now grew impatient, especially as our time was growing short, and we at length joined to give one unanimous call for admission ; each soldier taking a stone, and pounding with all his might against the massive doors, which, togeth- er with the continued ringing of the bell, rev- erbrated with a most astounding noise along the vaulted roofs of the building, until its echo became deafening and terriffic, Fearing that the inmates might become touched with resent- ment at our unseemly behavior, we hastily re- tired, and just as we passed the outer door, we met ^n elderly gentleman, who reprimanded us severely for our misconduct and threatened, at the same time, to send for a piquet guard. It was fortunate for us that we had arrived beyond the outer door, else it would have been easy for him to have made us his prisoners, and we had then paid dearly for our adventure . Fearing that he had already sent for a guard of soldiers, for our apprehension, we quickened our pace, and arrived safely within the precints allowed us. Shortly after, we were again paraded to wit- ness another species of military punishment, which though of a mortifying character, was less tinged with barbarity. It is sometimes cal- led ** a drumming out." The individual in question was placed between the ranks of in- fantry, followed by the musicians, playing the " rogues march." He was thus conducted to the confines of the garrison, where he was left answer our time joined to n ; each ith all his I, togeth- bell, rev- se along I its echo ring that ;h resent- istily re- door, we landed us a.tened, at uard. It pd beyond 1 easy for d we had Fearing soldiers, ur pace, Is allowed Id to wit- lishment, [cter, was limes cal- ddual ia Iks of in- lying the Iducted to was left LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 67 to pursue his own course, being now disbanded, or freed from the obligations of his oath, and no longer a military subject. This punishment is sometimes inflicted for petty thefts, and in- corrigible profligacy. Many of our number would gladly have exchanged situations with him ; seeing it delivered him from all the tyr- anny and suffering, to which he, iii comnion with us, had been exposed. O, how would I have greeted such a punishment. To me it would have been the highest favor they could have conferred upon me ! But alas ! I could only in imagination trace the road which led to home and all its lost delights ; while the reality of my case was like a dagger in my heart. O, miserable prospect ! A perpituity of bondage, to cease only with life ! An insurmountable barrier placed between me and the enjoyments of social life ! I had not neglected to send my parents an account of the events of my life, withholding only the most painful parts of my experience, lest they should grieve immoderately for their lost son. In answer to my first and second let- ters, I received the following from my father. Frampton Jan, 1st 1821. Dear Son — I have just received, by one post, both your letters^ sent from Coventry ; and while I approve of your conduct in writing me concerning your situation, I can but lament your folly in leaving your place, of which I knew nothing until I received your letter, and 6d LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. Hi i iff your extreme rashness in entering upon a ca- reer so humiliating as a soldier's life ; a life at- tended with intolerable hardships, and what is worse, with every species of profanity, lewd- ness^ and wickedness. I hope you will remem- ber to keep yourself clear of these pernicous practices. You know by this time they are a swearing set ; be sure you never join them in this respect. ^' Sivear 7iot at ally You are now beyond the reach of parental instruction, or at least protection,and your situation,togeth- er with the distance which does, and will sep- arate us ; will, undoubtedly, create in future very; serious anxiety for your welfare ; and I hope your duty as a child on this point, will bo respectfully regarded. I would sincerely ad- vise you to he good and dutiful to your superiors; submissive to all your officers, and respectful in your deportment, so that I may hear from, and see you again in peace. Your affectionate father, WILLIAM LIGHTON. This letter from my father, paved the way for a regular correspondence, while it removed many fears from my mind, and gave me hopes of better days. Towards the spring of the year I suffered a little from sickness, which originated in a cold, taken one wet night while upon duty, and, al- though its symptons were not very alarming, I was conducted to the Hospital, where I was examined, and retained to undergo a course of \j LIFE OP \Y. IS, LIGHTON. 69 ►on a ca- a life at- d what is ity, lewd- 11 remem- pernicous ey are a n them in You are struction, )n,togeth- l will sep- in future re ; and I nt, will bo merely ad- supcriors; respectful ear from, TON. the way removed |me hopes suffered a in a cold, L and, al- arming, I Ire I was ;ourse of I medicine. While I remained under medical care, which was about twenty-one days, I un- derwent more pain and suffering than I had heretofore experienced. I was deprived of my usual provisions, and received as a substitute, a pint of gruel, or rice, with but very little of any other article of consumption. Towards the close of my sickness, I was supplied with articles of food somewhat more substantial, though in too small a quantity, properly to sup- ply the wants of nature. While in this situa- tion, I was visited by my comrade, who after a few words of enquiry concerning my health, presented me with a letter, which proved on being opened, to be from my father, and con- tained a small sum of money, a most accepta- ble present in my situation, as it served to pro- cure the means of alleviating my distress. My health having recovered, I was permitted to return to my duties in the garrison, which was but of short continuance, as the time had nearly arrived when we expected to sail for head quarters in America. Already had or- ders arrived for a detachment to be sent to the second battalion of the corps, stationed at Hal- ifax, N. S. Previous to the arrival of this or- der we were called to witness scenes the most heart-breaking and distressing. Many of the, new recruits were married men, whose youth- ful companions had voluntarily followed them,* _j- II ^ * It will be observed, that the prime cause which led theM unfortunate individtiaU to enlist into the Army^ was the ^n- ttral distress then prf'vnient amon.^ t))9 lal)nriiig class. Such« 7 70 LIFK OK W. B. LIGHTON. i I! : I 14 n ; ' ! 1 ".I I i I'.'l .' : ,^!'! 1"! i i;!! ) ;i! iin ^ r choosing rather to endure with their beloved husbands, the rigors of a miHtary life than to suffer a painful separation, when the command- ing officers interfered, and ordered that all the women above a specified number should be forthwith returned to their native homes. The day arrived when this order was rigor- ously executed ; when the young and innocent wife was torn from the beloved euibrace of her youthful husband, amid sobs and tears the most touching. Even now, methinks I hear the shrill scream of the women, as with the deepest agony of soul, they took the long, last, affecting farewell. How wild the look of the parent as with a countenance almost like distraction he gazed upon his bloominj]^ oflspring, which he loved as his own soul. He must now leave them, not to be well provided for, and taken care of, that would be some alleviation, but the soldier can have no such hope, bis wife is poor, her family poor, he leaves them then to extrfune poverty and destitution. And the poor broken- hearted mother, her case is worse, far worse ! She leaves her husband and in leaving him she leaves her all on earth, her only stay in life. And is she at ease ? Ah no ! The thought of joys, forever gone, destroys her peace. She retains a faint emblem of the father in her child, which only serves to tell he is gone for- indeed was the Hoantiness of labor, and the low wages, and the Bufferings it occasioned that very many of the most respectable of the poor, were from Imperious necespiiy driven to the army, AS an assylnin to fi(;reen and save th(«n from threatened $tar- vation. <'-| ir LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 71 • beloved 3 than to ommand- at all tho hould be ras rigor- innocent ce of her ; the most hear the e deepest affecting parent as •action he which he ow leave nd taken n, but the fe is poor, \o cxtr^aiie r brokeu- [tr worse ! g him she ay in life. Ihought of ice. She ler in her gone for- Jrages,and the 1st respectable \ to the army, \aiened atar- ever, or at least separated from her ; this is a sorrow which serves to increase her woeSj • find enila In hiunun misery profound. At last she hears that her protector has gone the way of all the earth, and has left her child destitute of every means of support, of every thing calculated to sweeten the bitter cup of life. Without friends or home these children grow up, left to the tender mercies of a wicked world ; they become common beggars, doomed to suffer the miseries of an ignorant and wretch- ed life ; and too often to end that life upon tho gallows. With a faint description of these evils before us, may we not pity that power which has so far departed from its original ex- cellence, as to be the cause of these glaring evils. So void of benignity are its supporters that they trample licentiously upon that class of subjects, (the poor) from whom they derive their principal support. Thus are merciless tyrants usurping what never belonged to them; and they are evidently determined to stifle eve- ry sentiment of respect to a proper administra- tion of the affairs of a suffering nation. O England ! the clouds are gathering blackness around thee ! Thy once exuberant brightness is now tarnished, and methinks thy fate will end in scenes worse than thy martyrdoms ! But may the Lo *d prevent this calamitous event, and defend thy palaces with princes, and thy courts with noblemen whose characters shall be unblemished! Hoping the reader will pardon ^, ••" 72 LIFK OF W. B. I.IGIITON. i i::i • ! I' I 1^1 .1 this digression I proceed to offer a few more remarks upon the circumstances I have but faintly depicted. The reader may have asked the question to himself, was there no prospect that these horror stricken husbands and wives being again uni- ted ? To this it may be repUed not unless they obtained their discharge, and that required a sum they never would be able to pay, on ac- count of their poverty. The attachment of these men appeared to be of the strongest kind, for some of them willfully maimed themselves that they might be considered inifit for service. An instance of this kind I will mention. A young man as he was accompanying his wife to Cowes to take his final leave of her, and ap- parently under deep concern, requested leave to step aside for a moment, which was granted, when secreting himself beneath a stone bridge, he resolutely cut his thumb from his hand with a razor which he had prepared for the purpose, and then throwing both into an adjoining field, he joined the rest of his company. His situa- tion being observed by the officer, he was im- mediately arrested, and soon ader tried by a court martial, and sentenced to be a pioneer in the garrison for life. Thus were this unfortu- nate couple, with many others, bereft of their early enjoyments, and disappointed in their fondest expectations, torn from each other by ruthless tyrants, whose lender mercies were cruelty. What must have been the feelings of that young woman when she saw her husband 1 1 \i LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 73 Dw more lave but estion to le horror ;ain uni- less they quired a on ac- meni of est kind, jmselves service. tion. A his wife and ap- ;d leave granted, 5 bridge, and with purpose, ng field, is situa- was im- ed by a loneer in unfortu- of their in their )ther by ?s were lings of lusband thus ^^xpose his life to gain his liberty and to bo her friend, and then to hear of his consignment to a painful and wearisome life. O, wretched life, thought I, 'tis better to be dead than to live ! And what may not such cruel, hard hearted monsters expect from the hand of that God who hath said in his holy word, " Whaty therefore, God hath joined together y let not man put asunder.^^ Matt. xix. 6. Having now no alleviation from duty, I reality a slave ; and the for life, was almost more The day at length arrived thought myself in thought that it was than I could bear. m for our embarkation ; it was hailed with de- light by many of us, as we imagined that our trials would now be lessened, and that better times would smile upon us. We were all equipped with suitable apparel for the climate, and by this means deeply involved in debt. Early in the morning of our departure we took an affectionate farewell of the associates we were about to leave ; every soul exhibited emo- tions of concern, and good feeling accompanied with expressions intimating their wishes for our future prosperity, while inhabitants of distant climes. For my own part my thoughts revert- ed to the scenes of home, its pleasures and as- sociations, which made it an interestingly pain- ful occasion. The hour arrived, and the beat- ing of drums summoned us to order, when each man securing his knapsack, hastened to the parade ground, and after inspection we procee- ded on our march to Cowes, accompanied part (i ,1, 1 i S " .1! ..-Hi ! *1 i 'i ! |,:;i. 74 MFi: or \v. n. lk^iiton. of tho wav l>v a hand of musio, to cheer with its eiiHvoiiiiiix itinueaee our droDpiii*; spirits. It was now that \ny nireclions vv(;ro severely tried. Home liad. a <.'i)arin too stroni; to he dispelled hy th(^ roUin<; ol" drums ; I was now about to leave it forever, every spot we passed seemed like somk? sj)ot di'ar to memory, and spoke with a voi'.^e ol' I'irillint; inlerest to my soul. While waitiUjC!!; on iin' shor*^ for ht)ats to eon- vey us to the s! ip, I emphiycd my time in briniriuix to view ihe diversilied scenes through which I had passed ; the lr«Mii)les 1 had endur- ed, and t!ie home I had left. Such were my emotions that 1 wouhi i'ain have kisstd the soil on whlcl> 1 stood, and wIumi (he boat arrived, I ftjlt reluctant to leave Mie never Ibri^otten shores of Albion, and as I stepped hejivily into tho boat, I oll'ered a silent prayer for the blessing of heaven upon my friends and myself. O ! iimst I a poor «'\ilo ever iiioiini ; Nor i\i\vx li!it;tli ol' rolliiuj y«;:ir.s n'tiuil 1 Aii» I r.oinpollt'il (o I uvr my fri('iul« and lioino ; To live no nion 'ncalli ttu^ anrcMtral doino 1 May Kind Iioav'n he our «;ni(lo — our »hysiog- m LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 77 d \Y nomy. For about two weeks, the storm con- tinued, during which, we could only keep one sheet to the wind, every other sail being close- ly reefed. After the storm subsided we spoke with several ships, which tended greatly to en- liven our spirits. At length, after many storms and dangers, we heard the welcome cry of Land from the man at the mast head, which we found by examination to be the American coast. The wind was now fair, and both troops and crew were anxious and impatient to enter the river St. Lawrance, when unfortunately we ran the ship aground. This sudden and un- expected disaster occasioned much excitement and tumult, as we were under the necessity of unloading the ship or waiting the return of the tide ; the latter appeared the most dangerous course, and we adopted the former. It was accordingly thought prudent to throw away our water ; the pumps were immediately set to work and our water disposed of, except a scan- ty portion, to serve us till we gained the river. After this was done, a boat with two anchors was sent astern of the ship and sunk, and the troops plying well at the winches,we succeeded in getting her off* into deep water, suffering no other loss but our water. We again suffered from adverse winds, which kept us beating about for several days, and had like to have been productive of death, worse than drown- ing, viz. death by thirst. Our water became almost exhausted, and what remained was so loathesome (it stank like carrion) it was obnox- , J TF! -t: 78 LIFE OF VV. B. LIGUTON. f ^1 ious to the taste, and our allowance, even of this, was so scanty it was not enough to sustain nature ; about one half pint per day being each man's share. The great heat of the day served to enhance our misery ; our tongues failed for thirst, and we were ready to faint. Such was my distress that I vainly strove to quench it with sea water, but its insufferable saltness de- terred me from making more than one trial, and once I procured a portion from the hogs- head by stealth, notwithstanding the orders of the comm.iiidei and the scrutiny of the sentinel placed Over it to protect it from the pilferings of the tro ps, iv?<\ although it was disgusting to the taste, yet, in my circumstances, it proved a most refresing draught. But before I proceed further I beg leave to lay before the reader a means of preserving water for any length of time, sweet and whole- some. Families, as well as mariners, often suffer much from water losing its sweetness, in situations where they cannot enjoy the privilege of drawing it immediately from the chrystal spring, but have to secure it by means of cis- terns, or otherwise, and as I shall have no bet- ter opportunity to meution it, I shall do it here, believing it to be of importance to some of my fellow creatures. " In order to keep fresh wateir sweet, take of fine, clear, white, pearl ashes, a quarter of a pound, of avoirdupois weight, and put it into one hundred gallons of fresh water, (observing this proportion to a greater or less quantity) LIFK OF W. B. I.IGHTON. 79 (ven of sustain ig each served iled for ich was ench it less de- e trial, 3 hogs- •ders of sentinel ilferings isting to )roved a leave to 3serving 1 whole- s, often tness, in )rivilege chrystal s of cis- no bet- it here, ie of my et, take irter of a Lit it into b serving :[uantity) 1/ and stop up your cask as usual, till you have occasion to broach it for use. As an instance of its utility and success, Dr. Butler put an ounce of pearl ashes into a twenty-five gallon cask of Thames water, which he stopt up very close, and let it stand for upwards of a year and a half, opening it once in four months, and constantly found it in the same unaltered con- dition, and perfectly sweet and good. To the mariner, the following receipt from the same author may not be unacceptable. To make sea water fresh, " take bees-wax and mould it into the form of an empty, hollow ves- sel ; sink the vessel into the sea, and the water, after a while, will work its way through the pores of the wax, and the quantity contained in the vessel will be fresh, and good for use." " But fresh water may be had in much great- er plenty, and more expeditiously, by filling a vessel with river sand, or gravel, and pouring salt water upon it.* The vessel must be per- forated at the bottom, and by applying a linen strainer, the water, after undergoing a few fil- trations, will lose all its brackish taste." Were this plan generally adopted it sea, how much misery occasioned by thirst might be avoided. But to return ; we were now enveloped in a dense fog, so thick that we could not see a rod beyond the bows of the ship, and after sailing several days in this situation, and having ar- rived, though unknowingly, into the Gulf of St. •The method pursued in this case is similar to that we pur- •ue in leachirior ashes to obtain iev. 8 80 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. ff "■ s Lawrence, one morning between the hours of twelve and four, the Captain was aroused by a tremendous grating as if the ship had come in contact with some rocks ; lie rushed upon deck in his shirt, and with a voice that thrilled every heart, shouted, *' about, ship, or we are lost,^^ The command was sudden and unexpected ; a momentary pause ensued, none dared move a step till the Captain a second time reiterated his order. The men seeing their danger, flew each to his station, and aided by the troops of the second watch, about sixty in number, soon succeeded in bringing her about. It was then discoverable that a few moments longer would have hurried us upon a massive ledge of rocks, where all must inevitably have perished. Prov- idence, kind Providence, alone effected our rescue, for had not the Captain awoke at that precise moment, all must have been lost ! Turning from this scene of danger we felt ourselves inspired with new courage, but were soon alarmed again by a similar cause, which circumstance induced us to cast anchor, and wait for day. We might here notice the fact that during all this alarm, two of the watches, amounting to over a hundred men, were fast asleep, below, ignorant of their danger, and when the anchor was dropped, drawing after it the huge chain cable, which made a report as if the ship was smashing to pieces, it aroused them from their peaceful slumbers in a moment, and sent some in horrid confusion and nuddity to the deck, screaming and crying for mercy, 4 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. 81 ours of ;cd by a come in on deck id every re lost.^^ cted ; a move a ^iterated er, flew roops of er, soon ,vas then er would >f rocks, d. Prov- cted our c at that t! we felt jut were e, which lor, and the fact watches, were fast ger, and g after it report as aroused moment, i nuddity )r mercy, and it was sometime before they could be per- suaded of their safety, so as to retire again to their couches. We remained at anchor till day light, when we again weighed anchor, and gaily and rapid- ly ascended the majestic St. Lawrence, from whence we soon obtained refreshing draughts of water. We soon hailed, and obtained a pilot, but the wind changing and operating against us, we could only progress when the tide was ascending, laying at anchor when it receded, during which seasons we were much enlivened by the appearance of the country, and by the converse of the passengers and crews of other ships. I should have been glad could we have seen more of the country as we passed it, when on the sail, but such was the tyranny of our officers, that we could not have this desirable privilege allowed us, as we were much of the time, hatched down in the ship's hold like con- victs. Before I proceed further, I will state an in- stance wherein may be seen the cruel tyranny and injustice of the commanding officer of the troops on board. At one time on our passage I had washed my clothes and hung them out on the rigging, and in the night they were stolen. In the morning, finding they were gone, I made immediate inquiry, and found them in posses- sion of one of the soldiers. I took the proper measure to report him to the officer, to get sat- isfaction in the restoration of my articles ; but he, far from showing me justice, bid me " be 82 LIFE OF W. B. I.IGHTON. li'i r goney and threatened "//la/ j/'/ie /lewrd another word from me he would put me into confinement.^^ Thus, after the clearest identitication of my property,! was silenced, slave likcy by a haughty tyrant. How applicable md true the proverb in this case. ** When subjects arc ill-treated by subaltern ofRcers, and cannot make remon- strance to the prince, because the too great au- thority of the ministers of state deprives them of the means; their lot is like that of a man, who, half dead with thirst, approaches a river to drink, but, perceiving a crocodile, is obliged to perish for lack of water, or submit to be de~ vouredi" But we soon arrived in full view of the city of Quebec, where we had a pleasant sight of its most elegant buildings and fortifications, which sight produced the greatest animation, from the consideration that vvc were near the place of destination, wh^^rc we fondly hoped that our troubles would at least be mitigated, if they did not cease. My heart palpitated with joy as I heard our salute fired from the can- non on the battery ; soon after, we cast anchor about half a mile from the shore in front of the city. We were soon attc nded with boats which came laded with provisions for the supply of our wants, upon which we teaslcd like men who had narrowly escaped starvation. It was seven weeks from the time we \ei\ Cowcs, till we lan- ded at Quebec. The day vafter our arrival, another ship, containin<» two hundred troops, arrived, which had made tlio voyage in four Liri: or ^v. li. Li(iiiTo.\. 83 another cment.^^ of my laugbty proverb ated by rcmon- reat au- Lis them a mail, a river obliged ► be de- he city ight of cations, mation, lear the hoped ated, if ed with le can- anchor t of the s which ^ of our n who s seven we Ian- arrival, troops, in four weekM only. The next day we were uU put on board u steam boat, and taken to Montreal, in possession of good health niuT spirits. The officers of the regiment were waiting to board us, immediately on our arrival at the wharf, whoso manner towards us, was allable, and kind : they congratuUUed us upon our arrival, and witliout any nppear.'ince nf harshness, pa- raded us onboard the steamboat, and marched us up to tlie barracivs, wliere wv. were kindly received by tiie old si>I(liers o( the regimciK^ who willingly dividi^d their provisions among us, to meet our wants. We were all retained in the barracks yard, until divided, and allotted to the diderent companies during which time I was visited by two Knglish ollicers, who ques- tioned me closely, concerning my parentage, history, &c. with evident symptoms of respect for my youth, which probably, tiist excited their curiosity. It was into their company that I was drafted, at which I was not a little pleased. We were, for a few days, treated with consid- erable kindness and lenity, during which time, many of us visited the ancient and antique buildings of the city, which to my mind, pre- sented but a poor contrast to the splendid cities of England. I was not a little surprised, also, at the appearance of the regiment : it was made up of almost every nation upon earth ; in fact, there were English, Irish, Scotch, French, Germans, Portuguese, Spaniards, Italians, and Dutch ; nn assemblage which made no very pleasing impression upon my mind. Many of 8* ^ il ... ^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. .<^ rtnnity should present. When the night came Uiat gave them the desired opportunity, one X)f them, dressed himself in an officer's full uniform, be- longing to tlie one with whom he was living; took also his com- miMion, in order tlint they might eiwape with greater safety. His companion drecsed hims#lf in a s(;rvants habit, and attended btm in tliat capacity ; after thus preparing themselves Uiey took a horse and sleigh and proceeded with all possible haste ; alleging, where tlu>y had occasion to slop, that they were in punuit of deserters. Tims they both mude their succesfiil Mcspe. J v LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 105 determined, in case I should be overtaken by pursuers, not to be taken alive.^ The day at length arrived when I was to ex- ecute my project, which, if successful, was to free me from my troubles, and confer upon me the blessinffs of liberty ; but if detected would plunge me into a worse situation, and a deeper misery. Early in the evening the Captain and Colonel R. went in company to partake of the pleasures of a splendid ball, and having waited until the tattoo sounded, which called every soldier to the barracks, I began to make prep- aration for my exit. After carrying my plan into effect, so far as to encourage me with suc- cess, and while in the very act of making the most important preparations, I was suddenly interrupted by Colonel R's. servant, who com- ing near to me, spoke to me as if he suspected my design. But fearing I should take the alarm, he coaxingly requested me to go with him into the servant's room, where no doubt he meant to have secured me, as another servant was there who would probably have readily as- sisted him to detect me. But knowing he must have discovered my design, and fearing he was only laying a trap to catch me, I made him an indifferent reply ; but promised him I would * I pkced all mv hopes of deliverance upon my horse and a Hngle piitol ; which latter I intended to have well loaded with ballff, and not to be taken without firinff through the first man that should attempt to apprehend me. I should have pro< vided myself with anotlier pistol, but for fear of exciting suspi- cion of my design I was obliged to desist. 10* .4^3 n the ^>ks by 1 their uaster A' ever, , even which ice, I ?ss be- , being 1 p un- it, hat, suiTci- ecame of iny titr ill would Lii, yet I Tliad evi- ITo havii loon hiivo re of tlie without [ith, per- a life of ■MiiMBBMSiHapMlBlil ;* '.'t l-.l (:' .. 1 i \' '. : i > LIFE OB' W. B- LIGHTOrr. 107 put my hands (for I had no mittens) between the saddle and the horse's back, and my feet close to his sides ; at other times I took to my feet and run ; but all was in vain. I actually thought I should freeze to death : my hands^ feet, and ears were past all feeling, and not- withstanding I thrashed and rubbed the affect- ed parts, they still grew worse, and worse, and glad indeed, should I have been to have taken shelter for the night ; but so great was my fear of detection, that I dared not hazard myself by requesting hospitality. At length I lost my way, and coming to a house, through the win- dow of which I discovered a brisk fire, which to me, was a sight peculiarly grateful, I stop- ped my horse, to consult with myself, with re- gard to the propriety of going in to warm me, and secure some kind of an outer garment, as I was entirely destitute ; at the same time, I eyed sharply the inside of the cottage, through the window, as I stood close to it, to see if all was peaceful and quiet, which I found to be so; upon which, I saluted it with a loud halloo, at the same time putting my horse in a position ready for a gallop, should I see any cause for ex- citement; when,observing two men approach the door, dressed in their daily habit, and to all ap- pearance, armed with muskets, my fears became alarmed, and without delaying one moment, I rode off immediately upon the full speed.'* * I remark that my feara were not excited from any thoughts of pursuers, but the fact that the men might be some of those unfeeling characters, who were constantly upon the bokout for deserters . iMMWMi* Hi AH 108 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. .'ii filled with and fear. was now niied witn excitement, ana tear, in consequence of which, I rode my horse hard, until with fatigue and fasting, (for he had noth- ing to eat all night) he became so jaded that it was with much difficulty I could force him out of a walk. At length day-light appeared and ended the most painful night I ever experien- ced, before or since . Meeting with an individ- ual, I interrogated him as to the place in which we were ; when he informed me I was forty miles from Montreal, and about an equal dis- tance from the borders of the United States. The assurance that I was so far from the Regi- ment, and in a bye-way too, encouraged me to inquire for refreshment, for I felt in much need of it : and indeed, had I not submitted to put up some where, I verily believe, before many hours, I should have perished on the road. Accordingly I rode up to a tavern, delivered my horse to the ostler, ordering him to take the best possible care of him, and retired to the house, though with much difficulty, on account of the stiffness of my limbs, and the numbness of all my physical powers. Seating myself by the fire, I fell into a sound sleep, from which I was awakened by the intense pain of which I became the subject, as my frozen extremities were operated upon by the fire. Upon remov- ing my shoes, my feet presented a piteous ap- pearance, being almost entirely covered with blisters, so that I could not place them upon the ground without screaming. The family now began to gather round me, ■Si '< I LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 109 fewr, in se hard, id noth- d that it him out red and sperien- individ- n which as forty ual dis- States. e Regi- d me to ch need ) put up > many e road. livered ake the to the ccount bness elf by hichi hichi mities •emov- »us ap- with upon id me^ not to administer to my necessities, but merely to gratify an ignoble curiosity, I say ignoble, because it had no other end than to rid them- selves of a troublesome burden, as they feared, from my appearance, I might become. They began by expressing their surprise at my unseasonable dress, and that I should travel in the night, and so far, as from my appearance they judged I had. To this, I answered in the best way possible to prevent suspicion, but in vain ; the landlord doubted my veracity, and sent for a number of gentlemen belonging to the neighborhood, who on their arrival, exam- ined me very closely. By this time, my pain had so increased that I became almost insensi- ble ; so much so, that my answers became con- fused, and upon being asked by one of them from whence I came, I thoughtlessly replied, from Montreal : whereupon they began to sus- pect me to be a deserter. Upon this, I effect- ually roused myself from my stupor, and plead my case so ably that the suspicions of most of them were lulled, and they retired, expressing their satisfaction at my story, and their belief of my innocence. But the avaricious and un- feeling landlord was still dissatisfied, and asked me if I was willing to go back with him so far as St. John's, to see if there was any inquiry, or stir about me. To prevent any further sus- picion in his mind, I told him I was perfectly willing, (though to the contrary, I was very «m- willingy but I did so that he might think I tta$ innocent) provided he would bring me back a^ >AI i! I !j: t 110 LIFE OP W. B. LIGIITON. ter being satisfied with my innocence. He {»romi9ed he would, though 1 felt that there was ittle hope of my avoiding detection, as a com- pany belonging to my regiment were stationed at that place, and would immediately, on seeing mc, recognize me as one of the regiment. Reader, can you conceive my feelings ? To do it you must place yourself in my situation. Suppose yourself a stranger, poor and destitute, your limbs all sore and blistered, a deserter from the army, in the hands of cruel, hard- hearted men, about to take you back to place you in the hands of those who have no mercy upon their victims, and exposed to the cruel punishment of whipping, a punishment worse than death : and perhaps you can form some idea of my feelings. Before I proceed farther, I will just stop to uncover the heart of the landlord, and show the principle lurking there, which induced him to betray me. He believed me to be a desert- er, and knew that could he prove the fact, and lodge me in the hands of the regiment, he should receive thirty dollars^ as a reward of his cruelty, for my apprehension. For this sum was he willing to expose me to the most igno- minious of all punishments. What will not some men do for the sake of money ? With some the value of human life is insignificant com- pared with it. "O how deceitful, how deeply damning is the love of money ! Well might the heathen exclaim, while contemplating the grave of one who was murdered for his wealth. t .1 I LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. Ill \c. He lere was 3 a com- ;tationed n seeing egiment. ? To do situation, iestitute, deserter el, hard- to place 10 mercy the cruel jnt worse brm Sonne ist stop to and show luced him a desert- lact, and ment, he ard of his this sum lost ig no- will not Vith some fant com- )w deeply [ell might hating the lis wealth. ■i O ! cursed lust of gold ! what wilt thou not in- duce the human heart to perpetrate ? " Judas is deservedly considered as one of the most in* famous of men, his conduct base beyond de- scription, and his motives vile. But alas ! how many who censure his act, imitate him in their lives ! How many sell their souls for a less sum ! Ho ye Judas% read your doom I learn your danger when you hear the Apostle telling you from Grod that " no unrighteous man, nor covetous, shall enter into the kingdom of God !" From so great a curse may God save every money4ovingy honor^huntingy pleasure'taJcingy thoughtless, goddess man ! But to proceed with my narrative : after par- taking of some refreshment, the landlord pro- ceeded to convey me to St. Johns, at which place we arrived about two o'clock P. M. and was conducted to an inn, where I was put un- der the safe-keeping of the landlord, at that place, until inquiry was made respecting me. But I had not been there long before informa- tion was obtained that I was a deserter, and that despatches to different parts of the country were in pursuit of me. This news highly grat- ified my captor, who very speedily communi- cated the fact of my detention to the officers of the company, stationed there, who immediately sent a file of soldiers to conduct me to the guard-house, where I was placed under close confinement. The soldiers exhibited much kindness towards me^ which kindness was pe- culiarlv seasonable, as 1 was in such a situa- .i I was for civil lalty of dcaihj I ^ 1. 1\ 1 y tIFE OP W. B. LICIITON. 117 r. 3; 'A ,i ■A A •X, < a o H IS was then recognizable for the act of desertion. This change in my situation filled me for a mo- ment with sensations of a pleasing nature, which however, were soon damped by the con- sideration that my crime, according to British law, was punishable with death. Notwithstand- ing my prospect was dark and dreary before me, I rejoiced that I had escaped the ignomy of a public whipping, which to me would have been worse than death, had I only been prepar- ed. This circumstance was to me a most pe- culiarly trying one, when my fortitude and eve- ry feeling of my agitated soul was put to its trial as I was ushered into the cold damp prison of Montreal. The harsh grating of the iron doors, the massive bolts and bars by which they were secured, and above all, the gloomy dun- geon in which I was placed, sunk my spirits in- to the depths of despondency and grief Ad- ded to this, I was placed in a room in company with some of the vilest miscreants in creation. Men who seemed by a long continuance in crime to have lost their humanity ; and to have imbibed the spirit of Satan himself. Here I endured hunger and want without mitigation, or relief, until my hitherto robust frame began to yield to these accumulated inconveniences, and threatened me with early dissolution. As it was, it produced a weakness that has taken years for me to recover from. In this situation I made an appeal to the liberality of the regi- ment, to which I belonged ; they immediately began a subscription for my relief, but the cap- I m 118 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. ! tain hearing of their intention, strictly forbade them from sending me a single copper. Thus did the hard-hearted Captain prove that he was sincere when he said he would ^^ show me no mercy zX all." Again did an ever watchful Providence pro- vide me a friend in my extremity, in the person of a Mr. Weidenbecker, with whom I was ac- quainted during my abode with Capt. Pierce. This gentleman had formed a favorable opinion of my character, and had conceived a feeling of the strongest attachment towards me : he discov- ered the true reason of my former imprudence, and while he was willing to blame the crime, he saw that the offender was more deserving of pity than censure. From him I occasional- ly received a supply of food and through him the sympathy of others was excited in my be- half, but notwithstanding these kind helps, I Qtill had much to endure, and much to suffer. Mr. W. also assured me he would procure ev- ery possible assistance at my trial, which was expected to come on in the spring ; he promis- ed to give his testimony to my moral character, &c. Such tokens of friendship as this, were peculiarly adapted to comfort me in my unfor- tunate and lonely situation. I now began to recover from my lameness, and to apply myself to reading and study, es- pecially to music; the latter study, however, was forbidden me by the goaler, to whom it was disagreeable, but being a pious man, he kindly provided me with religious books, to i I i -- ^ . „mmm LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. 119 r forbade r. Thus Eit he was w me no snce pro- le person [ was ac- :. Pierce. 3 opinion beling of le discov- )rudence, he crime, leserving ^casionai- >ugh him n my be- helps, I Buffer. )cure ev- hich was promis- laracter, lis, were unfor- leness, ludy, es- lowever, (whom it lan, he ioks, to which I applied myself with persevering dili- gence, and through which circumstance I ob- tained a taste for reading and study, which has remained by me to the present time, and which I have found to be especially advantageous. But while my studious habits gave no small satisfaction to the goaler, it gave rise to an un- pleasant excitement among my fellow prisoners, who constantly treated me so rudely, that I was induced to petition for a removal to some other place of confinement ; which petition was crowned with success, and I was removed to a pleasant room in the front part of the prison, from whence I had a full view of the market place, &c. As the time of my trial approached I became extremely impatient ; my mind was continually on the rack of suspense in regard to my ap- proaching fate. My accusers however ; did not come forward, and my case in consequence, was deferred to the next court which did not sit under six months. Thus I was lefl through that period, a prey to anxiety and trouble of mind, as well as of bodily suffering ; which to- gether, considerably impaired my health. Dur- ing that time my regiment was removed to Kingston, Upper Canada, and by its removal, begat the hope that my accusers would neglect to appear against me at the next session, and that consequently, I should be kept until its third sitting, and then, from absence of witnes- ses, should be liberated according to law. Foolish thought ! the officers only neglected to I UKKO; :i^- I IP- 1 . ti li 'I !i" Wl I. i\ 120 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. appear at the first court, in order to prolong my imprisonment, and increase my suspense ' Previous to the approach of the next court, I addressed myself to a noted Counsellor in the city, who visited me, and promised to become my advocate ; I also prepared an address to the court, soliciting mercy and compassion. When the court commenced its session, I was inform- ed of the arrival of Col. R. and Capt. P. to at* tend my trial. At length, escorted by a strong guard of Constables, I was placed at the bar ; the solemnity of the scene — the importance of my case — and the presence of my accusers, overwhelmed me with confusion, and I almost fell to the earth. My trial however, did not proceed that day ; I was simply asked whether guilty or not guilty } to which L replied, ^*M>t gt«t%;" when they ordered me back to prison, informing me I should be tried the next day. This delay offered me leisure to fortify my mind, and recover from the confusion into which I had been thrown. The next morning I was taken into court under better, and more suita- ble feelings of mind to endure my trial. The court was crowded and intense interest was dis- played by all present durins its progress. When the jury were impannelled, I took care to challenge all whose countenances did not bear evidence of youth and sympathy, thinking that those who were in the prime of life, would take a deeper interest in my prosperity and blend mercy with justice. To my confusion, the lawyer who had promised to plead my case, LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 121 prolong ispense ' it court, or in the become iss to the . When s inform- P. to at- a strong the bar ; 'tance of ic.cusers, I almost , did not [ whether ed, "JVoe o prison, t day. rtify my ito which ng I was re Buita- d. The was dis- >rogress. •ok care did not Ithinking , would ity and infusion, ly case, i suddenly lefl the court, and abandoned me to the mercy of my accusers ; the goaler, seeing my distress, whispered me to address the court for an advocate ; which I did ; whereupon they granted my request. The landlord who apprehended me was one of the principal witnesses, but he was so alter- ed that I scarcely knew him : a deathlike pale- ness had overspread his cheeks, and as I was afterwards informed, he died soon after my trial. In about an hour, the testimony of the witness- es was all given in, and after my Counsel had ably and eloquently pleaded my case, the jury, having received their charge, retired, and after a few minutes conversation, returned with a verdict against me, accompanied with a strong recommendation for MERCY. This announcement filled me with alarm and terror ; all my hopes were built upon the last words of the jury : " We recommend him for Mercy. ^^ My lawyer observing my emotion, came to me at the bar, and told me I need ap- prehend no danger of suffering death, for said he, " the jury have done an act in recommend- ing you for mercy, which will, in spite of all opposition, prove your salvation." He added, "you will no doubt receive sentence of death, but don't despond, for it will not be executed ; but in the course of a short time you will be re- prieved, and will probably have to suffer one or two years imprisonment, as the Governor may determine." He then ofi'ered me a few words of advice, and left me, having received 12 \m it- ,« i>fJr !?*3 122 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON- i j ! [ , ; I [ my hearty thanks, which was all I had to be- stow in return for his services. I was now remanded back to prison, to await the end of the session, which lasted several days on account of the number of commitments. The result of the proceedings of the court was, that nine were found guilty of capital crimes ; when we were all brought up to receive our sentences. It is impossible for me to give c just description of that eventful day ; then, ev- ery man's strength failed him ; every counte- nance betrayed the secret workings of the heart; every fountain of sorrow was opened, and found vent in floods of tears ; the stout hearted trem- bled, and wished he had never been born. 'J'he solemn scene began ; when, not a word was heard, save those of the Judge ; all was still as death. We were asked if we had any request to make ; upon which we all fell upon our knees, and humbly begged for pardon ; to which it was replied, "/If cannot be granted you.'^^ The senior judge now pronounced sentence of death upon us, which ran as follows : " The sentence of this court isy that you shall be taken back to the place from whence you came, and from thence y in four weeks f be conveyed to the place of executioUy there to be hanged by the neck until you are dead, and may Ood Mmighty have mercy upon your «ou/5." Notwithstanding I had but little ap- prehension about the putting of this sentence mto execution, yet my sensations wer6 pecu- liarly distressing ; and although I aflected in- diflTerence, yet my heart was sad ; it was im* ad to be- I, to await i several mitments. ourt was, 1 crimes ; ;eive our to give c then, ev- y counte- ;he heart ; md found ted trem- Drn. 'J 'he ivord was as still as Y request ipon our to which m." The I of death ; sentence ack to the thence, in \xecutiony ire dead, oon your ittle ap- sentence ire pecu- Bcted in- was im- >'% V \ i 'i . ■ r I i *■ i; 1 hJ 4.-' LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTOPf. 123 i H H a O 3Q en Ok Q as possible to divest myself of fear and terror. We were now conducted back to prison, loaded with irons, and were thrust into the condemned room, a sorrowful, gloomy, and miserable apart- ment, to which none were admitted, save the clergy, and those who had business of impor- tance with the prisoners. On the third day afler my condemnation^ my friend Mr. Weidenbecker, in company with another gentleman, came to visit me ; they mentioned the expediency of petitioning His Excellency, the Earl of Dalhousie, the Gov- ernor, for my reprieve, and offered to prepare it, if I were willing. Of course I assented, and the next day Mr. W. returned with a peti- tion, very ably drawn up for my signature. Af- ter signing it myself, he subscribed his own name, and having procured the signatures of the jurors of my trial, forwarded it to the Gov- ernor immediately. Such was the benevolence of this gentleman, and such his attachment to- wards me, that I shall never cease to remem^- ber his name with gratitude. His, was a love which approached nearest to disinterestedness of any thing I ever knew ; he unexpectedly be- came my friend in my hour of extremity and danger, and his friendship remained inviolable, during my acquaintance with him. What ac- quisition is so precious as that of a friend ? How strong the friendly h^art controls. The feelings of our troubled souls. It cheers the gloom of blackest night. And puts our num'rous fears to flight. :i:^' r'Mi ! 1 : IT :ii'!('i; !l: !» ii,:;!; ill I ^ I 124 LU'i; VV \V. U. Li U 11 to; Tl.e til h pnsonei d ueii, it li;;lits with Hope And inaket!! his gloomy soul look up ! And though he may with woe contend, He finds u treasure in his frienii. Friendship on earth ! 'tis nobler far, Tiian all the riches of a Czar ! A friend whose love through woe will hold, His worth can ne*cr be told in GOLD ! Perhaps the reader would be pleased to learn something of the character and feelings of iny fellow prisoners, while under condemnation, and in expectation of speedy death. Of our number, seven were Catholics, natives of Can- ada, except one, who was a South American ■, these were profane and disgusting in their con- versation and manners, at first, a very natural consequence of the destructive faith they pro- fessed. If they sinned, they found a salvo for a guilty conscience in confession to the priest, who, poor man, affected to forgive them offen- ces, committed against a holy and infinite God. The other was a protestant, a mulatto from the United States, whose demeanor was more se- rious and proper. We were visited daily, by Roman Catholic priests, to whom their adhe- rents paid no small share of reverence and at- tention. We were also visited by a Clergyman of the establishment, who labored incessantly to instruct us in the wisdom of the Gospel, and to impress our minds with the importance of obe- dience to its precepts. Such, however, was our state, that we understood but little of the vitality of religion, or of its operation upon the '^ LIFE OF W. li. LlOillTOX. 125 .merican heart. For my ewn part, although I had re- ceived some knowledge of God in my early life, yet I had supposed (hat a strict attention to morality, was all the Bible required. I knew, to be sure, that Jesus Christ had suffer- ed death, but for what, and for whom I scarce- ly knew ; hence, when questioned about the grace of God, repentance, and faith, all I could say, only tended to set forth my lamentable ig- norance of these glorious truths. This discov- ery induced the Clergyman to spare no efforts, time, or pains, to pour instruction into our dark and benighted minds. He seriously exhorted us to attend to the salvation of our souls, point- ing out the way in the simplest and most affec- tionate manner, and then joining in prayer, he would commit us to God, and leave us to our reflections. I became deeply serious, reflected much up- on my past folly, and thought that then was the best time to seek religion, and the salvation of my soul ; but alas ! I went no further, though his labors were not in vain, inasmuch as they laid the foundation of my subsequent conver- sion. The effects of his visits, however, were glorious in regard to the mulatto; for he became deeply convicted, and began to call upon God through Jesus Christ, and soon found salvation through his most precious blood. He remained, during the rest of his life a most devoted and holy Christian, the work of grace upon his heart, was evident to every observer. While in this confinement, I received the 126 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. following epistle from Mr. Apple, my former comrade, who had obtained his discharge. Laprarie, Oct. — , 1823. My Dear Friend — Your unfortunate situa- tion is a subject of the deepest concern to me. Nothing ever gave me more exquisite pain than the news of your being sentenced to death. But the fact that the jury plead for your life, upon the day of trial, is a subject the most in- teresting and cheering that I can conceive of ; and I have no reason to doubt but that you will be pardoned. Indeed, I am impatiently wait- ing to hear the result of your case. Believe me, comrade, 1 feel for you as I should for a son, and would as soon fly to your relief. Let me advise you to endure your sufferings pa- tiently. Don't be dispirited, but submit your case to the all-wise disposer of human events, who alone is able to sustain the afflicted, and make way for their escape. And, although your situation is apparently the most dismal that could well be imagined, yet, let me cheer your gloomy mind with the fond assurance that you may safely hope soon to receive pardon ; for the circumstance I have mentioned, is proof that you cannot — will not suffer. Let my sym- pathy, together with the little sum I send en- closed, cheer you, till you are more happily relieved. Did not the distance, and the pres- sure of business prevent, I should visit you You will therefore, kindly excuse me, and be- lieve me to be your sincere friend. HENRY APPLE. LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 127 This letter came to hand very opportunely, and had a happy effect upon my mind. My heart had begun to sink, at the sight of the misery and wretchedness the prisoners now be- gan to evince, as the day of execution ap- proached. Their solemn and intense prepara- rations to meet their fates ; the perfect security under which we were confined ; but above all, their deep groans in the night season, as they awoke from their terriffic dreams, were causes powerful enough to disturb the peace of one in the possession of liberty and prosperity ; much more, of one who was by no means certain that he would not die a culprit's death. At length the gaoler visited our apartment, bringing me the cheering intelligence that the Governor had sent my reprieve, and told me I should be taken out of my irons the next day, and conveyed to another room. This intelligence made me re- joice beyond degree, and notwithstanding my irons, I paced the room with exultation, and felt us if I were light as a feather ; nor did I envy the king on his throne. I was not permitted to pass the night in the dismal cell with the poor culprits, but was removed to one adjoining, whence I heard no more thoir dismal cries and groanings. I slept but little through the night for joy, and in the morning my irons were taken off, and I left my dreary dungeon, and took possession of my old apartment opposite the public street. My extacy of joy that I now felt was beyond language to describe. I felt relieved, yea, I almost felt as if I was libera- i 1 pi 6J. I il 130 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. hearts wer*^ so swolen with grief, that we could hardly command our feelings. Early the next morning the prison yards,and every adjacent spot were crowded with specta- tors, who came to witi.ess the awful scene. At twelve o'clock the victims were brought from prison, and with tottering steps conveyed to the drop ; the ropes were carefully adjusted round their necks, and after the offering up of prayer to God by the clergy, commending their souls to his infinite mercy, the drop fell ; they strug- gled a few moments, and then all was still as death ; they had gone to their reward. I viewed their death from a chink in the wall of my prison ; and never, till that moment, did I experience such cold, chilling, heart rending emotions ; and I pray God I may never again witness a similar scene. I cannot forbear just mentioning to my readers, the crimes for which these men suffered ; two of them had been ac- complices in breaking into a store ; and the other had stolen some live stock which was found in his possession, and recovered again. These were the crimes for which they were hung ; that their punishment was greater than their crimes is obvious ; and all I need say is, that it is time such laws were abrogated by ev- ery nation professing the christian religion. I am, however, happy to state that the laws of my beloved country are annually becoming more lenient and merciful, and that death is now only inflicted for higher and more dangerous crimes. LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 131 we could ardsjund specta- ene. At ght from ed to the cd round of prayer leir souls ey strug- s still as ward. X 3 wall of nt, did I t rending er again bear just for which been ac- and the hich was sd again, ley were ater than fd say is, id by ev- gion. I laws of ecoming Ih is now mgerous The awful feelings, incident to the solemni- ties we had witnessed, were soon worn off by a consideration of our own situation : as to our future lot we were entirely ignorant : we amu- sed ourselves with conjecturing what wolild be the result, when, afler a few weeks, it was re- vealed to us in the following mysterious man- ner. In the dark hour of night as we were occu- pied in walking up and down our room in con- * versation about our future destiny, we were suddenly alarmed with the rattling of chains and the approach of footsteps towards the door of our room ; we were amazed ; every man turned pale, some expecting nothing else but to be brought once more under the fatal sent- ence from which we had been reprieved, while others, more sanguine, thought we were about to be taken across the St. Lawrence and com- manded to leave the country. In the midst of our fears the doer was opened ; a number of men entered, laden with irons, and without the least ceremony, riveted them fast upon our limbs. This done, we were ordered down the prison stairs, and conducted to the yard, where was a horse and cart in waiting, into whick^ with much difficulty, we clambered. We were then driven through the main street to the wharf, and put on board a steamboat which im- mediately btarted towards Quebec. The rea- son of this strange and mysterious move we could not conjecture ; but finally concluded we were about to be transported to Bermuda, or 13 ill 4 1 ■I, !' ill" ' ■•■' ■ f* |t;i' i li' I 132 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. M m: ! M some other foreign place, until the gaoler, who was one of our attendants, informed us we were all sentenced to five years hard labor in Que- bec jail. The boat made a stop at Three Rivers, and took in another prisoner, who was under the same sentence as ourselves, and after forty- eight hours sail, arrived at Quebec. The gaoler, under whose care we were now to be placed, soon came on board, and having ascer- tained our numbers, &.c. left us, and speedily re- • turned with a horse cart, in which we were ta- ken to the prison ; the sight of which, was enough to fill the mind with the most gloomy apprehensions. Passing through the main en- try, which was closely guarded by iron gates and huge wooden doors, we were conducted up a flight of stairs, through a dismal passage, to a room in the north part of the prison, designated "the work-house," where we were received by several companions in distress and confiiiement, whose looks and language bespoke our sym- pathy. We had not been here long before we were visited by the turnkey, accompanied with a blacksmith, who, to our no small satisfaction, relieved us of our irons, which already had produced on some of us swolen legs and sore hands. Our apartment was one of the pleas- antest in the prison, as it afforded us a view of the street, and of the soldiers barracks, and tended very much to relieve the otherwise lonliness of our situation. But the gaoler, fear- r^ LIFE OF \V. B. LIGHTON. 133 ler, who we were in Que- ers, and ider the Jr forty - The )w to be g ascer- 3dilv re- • were ta- 3h, was gloomy nain en- >n gates icted up ige, to a jignated ;ived by aement, ir sym- .ve were with a ^faction, idy had nd sore 3 pleas- view of ks, and herwise er, fear- ing we should attempt our escape, soon remov- ed us to a more solitary and secure situation, where we could only see the sentinel as he paced up and down on his post in the back yard of the prison. One advantage we enjoyed here was, that visters were admitted every day to see those prisoners, who, for petty offences, were confin- ed for a few months ; by means of these we were enabled to send out for almost any article we were able to purchase, so that our situation upon the whole was preferable to what it was at Montreal, labor excepted. On the Sabbath, divine worship was performed in one of the apartments in the prison, of which privilege I availed myself every Sunday without an excep- tion. The reader has already understood that we were doomed to spend our term of imprisonment in hard labor ; to effect this, we were placed upon a tread loheel, which was used to break stones for the public highway. The wheel was very large and admitted a number of prisoner? upon it at the same time. It was set in motion by the weight of the prisoners, who were then obliged to keep a regular step, or ruii the risk of breaking their legs. Fortunately for us, the concern did not meet the expectation of the projector, and was soon laid aside, to our great joy and satisfaction. The failure of this project by no means prevented us from being kept ac- tively employed ; for we were then required to pick thirty pounds of oakum a man per week, which was no easy or trifling task. I M If i ^t ! i 134 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. • t ill us) We With our labor we found our appetites in- creased, and our scanty allowance, (which was hrrad and water, it being but one pound and a half of bread, composed of c<)tarse materials, which was all the kind of food we had allowed was insufficient to support us in our work. e immediately made our complaint to the gaoler, informing him that unless he gave us more to eat we could not do the task assigned us ; in reply, he told us ^^he could not help w, and that we had better apply to the Governor. ^^ Upon this we drew up a petition, setting forth our wants and privations in the clearest and most forcible manner, and praying for immedi- ate and effectual relief, and sent it to the Gov- ernor. But it produced no effect. We next petitioned the citizens, presenting our distress, as we had to the Governor, and imploring tliem to assist us by affording us some of the neces- saries of life,out of the abundance they posses- sed. Here we were successful, and for a while obtained some small mitigation of our sorrows, but as we continued to plead for a continuation of these favors, and to paint our wants in the most glowing colors, our situation became a matter of notoriety, our distress became a mat- ter of common conversation, until the officers of the prison discovering that they were likely to be charged with inhumanity and hard-heart- edness pubhshed us as impoaters^tind by this act stifled every generous and charitable feeling towards us, and blasted all our hopes of assist- ance from this quarter. LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 135 ^tites in- hich was nd and a naterials, I allowed ur work, it to the gave us assigned I help tUy ng forth rest and immedi- :he Gov- We next distress, ng them 5 neces- ' posses- a while sorrows, inuation in the scame a i a mat- ofBcers e likely i-heart-. this act feeling ' assist* 1 **5 So far did the distress endured by us extend, that on one occasion, as the turnkey came to our apartment, he was followed by a large cat, a great favorite of one of the gentlemen of the prison, which passed along into one of the cells and was unobservedly left in the room. The prisoners like beings suffering with starvation, seized the poor creature, and immediately kil- led and cooked it, and in less than two hours eat him up ; those who partook of it declared it was as savoury as veal. We now contrived another plan to obtain help, which was to make skewers for the butchers, ^nlt of part of the wood we were allowed for fires. As the avails of these skewers, we re- ceived the offal of the market, such as beePs heads, sheep's heads, and pluck, &c. some of which would stink like carrion, but we devour- ed every think with greediness ; but others in the prison observing our success adopted the same method and soon spoiled our market. I now applied myself to drawing and paint- ing, for which I possessed considerable taste, hoping to obtain a trifling sum for my produc- tions,but found myself disappointed. However, I followed it for amusement, as it tended to be- guile away many of my tedious hours. Added to want of food, we suffered greatly from cold, as all the bed clothing we were allowed, was one blanket per man. Our dress too, became thread-bare and torn, and some indeed were al- most naked ; which greatly increased our suf- ferings bv the cold. But this was not the worst; f^ if m if Mi 1 :| 136 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. iiM,.:i the prison was filthy, and not having proper necessaries to make us comfortable, we became exceedingly infested with lice, so that, in short, we presented a spectacle, that would make hu- manity shudder at the sight. We next resolved to rid ourselves of part of our labor, which we did by throwing a large portion of rope, brought us to be picked, into the privy, so that out of thirty pounds brought to us, we seldom returned more than one half, the rest being destroyed in the way mentioned, or by fire. In this way we contrived to clear the prison of the article, and thus were out of employ for some time. A great failure, howev- er, in the returns made at the end of the job, created strong suspicions that we had destroyed some of our work, but as they possessed no ev- idence of our guilt, we for a while, remained undiscovered. By and by however, the draught though twenty feet in depth, became filled up, which led the turnkey to inspect it, when he found a huge pile of rope which we had placed there. Enraged at the discovery, he told us that we should pick it all out as soon as the spring opened, and the draught should be thaw- ed. In this however, he was mistaken,for soon after it began to thaw, the heavy current of water which passed through, washed it away through the common sewer into the river, and we heard no more about it. These unmitigated sorrows and troubles ten- ded to drive us almost to despair, and some of the prisoners were strongly tempted to commit ; proper became in short, lake hu- ' part of a large ed, into brought me half, ntioned, to clear B out of , howev- the job, jstroyed i no ev- smained Iraught lied up, hen he placed told us as the e thaw- or soon rent of away ;r, and es ten- >me of commit Ht h LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 137 suicide ; and I doubt not but they would have done it, had it not been for a faint hope that they should make their escape . Amid these calam- ities I was prompted to write to my friend Mr. W. of Montreal, stating to him my situation ar 1 sufferings. He was pleased to answer me, and recommended me to write to two of his friends in Quebec, whose addresses he sent in his letter. I accordingly wrote to one of them, who only ridiculed me for my pains. Howev- er, I sent to him a second time, and enclosed Mr. Ws. letter in one of my own, which had a better effect. He sent me some necessaries and a dollar in money. When this was expended I wrote to the other, who immediately came to visit me ; upon en- tering the room, he inquired for me by name, and said he was Mr. . Taking him aside, I presented him with Mr. Ws. letter ; afler perusing it some time, he asked me, ^^are you a mason ?" I replied, no sir ; upon which he started back and said, ''/ took you to be one by your writing, but as you are not I shall render you no assistance. ^^ He then lell me, apparent- ly much chagrined. I confess I was not a little surprised at the man's conduct, at his be- ing so desirous to know if I was a mason, and on finding I was not, treated me with so much disdain and contempt. Reader, he belonged to a party whose narrow benc/olence is confined to their own narrow circle ! What a benevo- lent institution is Free Masonry ! Failing to obtain help from this source, I f ■I ^ , ■r-i ■I ■I > i ^i ,t:;j t II, i i\ ! ii :;i 'f'ii;f It ;l 138 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. wrote to my father, but as I never received an answer, I know not whetlier he ever saw my letter. My situation remaining so painful, and seeing no hope of its being any better, I began to think of making my escape. To effect it from our room of confinement I saw was impos- sible. I then turned my attention to another spot, where the prospect was truly flattering. Afler we had done our week's work, we had to take our several portions into an upper garret. In this garret were three windows, unprotected by iron bars and of easy access upon the inside, from whence we were told by the turnkey ,some prisoners of the enemy made their escape, dur- ing the American war. I used in my weekly visits to this place, to open the windows and look down upon the busy multitude below, and sometimes would become so excited as to be scarcely able to refrain from making the attempt in open day. My plan was to secrete myself among the oakum, and in the night, descend into the street by the aid of a rope. Before it could be accomplished however, it was neces- sary to obtain the confidence of my fellow pris- oners, and their consent to keep my absence a secret from the turnkey, long enough for me to make my escape. Accordingly I laid my plan before them, upon which they promised to aid me with their secrecy, though they thought me ventursome in attempting it that way, as the win- dow was four stories from the ground,and a tri- fling mishap would be attended with the most serious consequences. The next time we ;!l!:.(| natmtuMmm''- '•'■"' " fq^ LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 139 ved an aw my 111, and began fleet it impos- mother tering. had to garret. )tected inside, y^,some e, dur- veekly vs and W, and to be ittempt myself escend 3 fore it neces- w pris- bsence for me ly plan to aid jht me le win- i a tri- e most le we carried our oakum, I was so successful during the hurry of business as to secrete myself among the lumber of the garret ; the rest of the prisoners retired, and I fancied my self safe, and sure to escape as soon as night should favor me with darkness. Unfortunately, as the pris- oners were going back to their room, an order- ly prisoner who had the liberty of the yard,and who assisted the turnkey in his duties, perceiv- ed me to be missing from among the rest ; sus- pecting the cause, he immediately returned to the garret, and having the keys of that apart- ment entered, and bade me come forward, for I was in the most serious danger of being dis- covered. I remained unwilling to yield, but he continued to persuade me, and bid me for my own safety to regard him as my friend. Finding I was discovered, I came forward from my retreat, and asked the cause of his importunity. He replied, ^^ that having appre- hended my design, he had come to dissuade me from it, inasmuch as it would expose me to death, should I fail, and bring him under repre- hension for not keeping a close watch." He added, '^ you may possibly make your escape some other way, where I will not betray you, nor will I mention the present affair. Afraid of further discovery I retired to my room, much disappointed, to meditate on some new and more successful scheme. My next attempt was as follows : Our water was situated near the outer door of the prison, from whence we had to get it m il III i I' TM n i I 140 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. every day, in large wooden vessels. I saw it was barely possible to rush by the sentry into the street, and accordingly determined to make the trial. I communicated it to my companions, who, pleased with my resolution, jocosely ex- claimed, ^^ get away if you can /" To aid me in my purpose they agreed to appoint me their or- derly, so that I should be able to select the most favorable opportunity. To avoid suspi- cion, I used to go without my hat, having secur- ed beneath my pantaloons, an old woolen cap, which I begged of a Frenchman, one of the prisoners. One day going as usual after my water, while filling my tub very deliberately, the sentry, attracted by some novelty, turned his head, when siezing the precious opportunity, I sprang to the door, and was in the street, in a moment, running like a race horse. Just as I sprang through the door-way, the turnkey, im- patient at our delay, came to the head of the stairs,and stooping down to see what was doing, discovered a pair of heels at the door, and sus- pecting foul play, he rushed into the street be- fore I had got ten rods from the gaol. I was however, upon the full run, but the roads being slippery, (it was in the early part of spring, when the streets were covered with ice) and my shoes dry, I made but little progress ; the turnkey rapidly gained upon me, and with such a stentorious shout, as he said, ^' stop that pais- oner^^^ that alarmed me of his unwelcome ap- proach. I ran with all possible speed, until by slipping and tumbling, he came upon me, and if LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 141 I saw it ntry into to make panions, jely ex- id me in their or- lect the d suspi- g secur- len cap, e of the ifler my )erately, , turned jrtunity, eet, in a ust as I key, im- i of the s doing, and sus- reet be- I was ils being spring, ce) and ss ; the ith such lat pris- )me ap- until by me, and knocked me down with a blow, and then fasten- ing a firm grasp on my collar, conducted me back to the prison. Upon arriving at the pris- on door, I found the guard had prepared them- selves for a pursuit after me ; they manifested the most angry feelings, the sentry especially, was so infuriated that had he dared, he would have run me through with his bayonet. A large concourse of spectators had also assem- bled from all quarters, among whom was the gaoler, who dealt out a number of blows upon my head with his fist, and pulled my ears most shamefully, and ordered me to be put in irons, and confined in the dungeon. My place of confinement was opposite the guard-house, and the soldiers amused themselves with mimicking my sufferings ; which, togeth- er with my miserable situation, so exaspera- ted and excited my passions, that I shook my irons, knocked it the door, and screamed with such vehemence, that I became entirely ex- hausted, and at last, ashamed of my conduct. In the evening I was taken out of the dungeon, and conveyed back to my room where I was suffered to remain in irons a week. The prisoners still continued to make the most bitter complaints, until exasperated by their continued misery, they formed a resolu- tion to break out of the prison : an agreement was made, by which all of us promised to abide. The next question was, where to make the at- tempt ; to break from our own room, seemed to be a task ins^urmountable, and impossible, on account of its being so near the post occu- li ■ i 1 1 M \i if I; ::^ 142 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. pied by the sentry. The room in which we were ^rst confined, viz. the workhouse, offered advantages far preferable to the one we occu- pied, which made it a matter of importance for us to gain possesion of it if practicable. This could not be done without the consent of the gaoler ; to gain this, we behaved ourselves in the most unexceptionable manner, and having ingratiated ourselves in his favor, we made our request to be confined in the workhouse, as we thought we should enjoy ourselves better, as in eur present room we were in danger of sick- ness, from the almost insuperable stench of the privy. Supposing us sincere, he granted us the privilege, as also the liberty of walking oc- casionally in the yard. Our time being occu- pied during the day in breaking stones, for which we received one half penny per bushel, we had but little spare time to mature our proj- ect. Previous to commencing operations, wo bound ourselves by oath, to stand or fall togeth- er. In doing this, we chose an old man by the name of Pireau for a justice, who was in- ferior to none in administering the oath. Ho was candid, deliberate, and solemn, obliging each to repeat the words after him, and to kiss the Holy Bible, (afler the English manner of taking the oath) concluding with these words, " I will agree to the design proposed, and in every respect prove faithful, so help me God !" We immediately proceeded to make prepar- ations ; the old man was appointed chief in the enterprise ; his plan was to cut away the bars i. LIFE or W. B. LIGIITON. 143 hich we }, offered ^e occu- tance for e. This it of the selves in id having nade our se, as we ter, as in of sick- ich of the ranted us liking oc- ing occu- tones, for jr bushel, our proj- itions, we ill togeth- 1 man by 10 was in- ath. Ho , obliging id to kiss lanner of sse words, ;d, and in ^e God !" ce prepar- ief in the the bars of our window, as no other way seemed practi- cable. To effect this, we sent out by one of the visitors, and procured a knife and file ; the knife however, was so thick and unfit for the purpose, we had to take it, each alternately, and rub it on a stone until it became fit for our purpose. The old man, who was afterwards, for his singular cunning, called the '^ old fox^^ made it into a saw, and hid it over a door, ready for a convenient time. From our being so strictly guarded by sentinels, it was difficult to determine where to commence our operations ; at length, we fixed on the window of^ the north corner of the prison, which was the only place where we could expect success. Close by this window was the wall of the prison yard, which rose about three ^Q^i higher than the window : our intention was, to cut away the inner and the outer bars, and then by means of a plank we had procured for the purpose, mount the top of the wall, and descend on the other side by a rope attached to the remaining bars of the window. As we wero so closely guarded by sentinels, we were necessarily prevented from prosecuting our scheme in calm nights, and were obliged to select the wet and stormy, when the sentinels would be taking the shelter afforded them by their boxes. While our old friend was employed in cutting the bars, the rest of us were stationed as watchers round the room to observe the least movement, and give timely warning of the minutest sound. One of our number was placed by the window, 14 ■I !'i HI IP 144 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. I W I ill !■ I next to the sentinel in the yard, having a string in his hand, attached to one of the old man^s great toes, which in case of alarm, was to bo pulled as a signal for him to desist from his la- bor. This, however, he soon had tied round his ancle instead of his toe, for one of us hear- ing some sound one night, gave the old man's toe such an unpleasant jirk as almost drew him from his post, and made him curse roundly for the suffering it occasioned. While our plan was in rapid progress we were interrupted by an addition of one to our number ; as he was a young and inexperienced boy, and confined for one month only, we thought it best to desist un- til his liberation, for fear he should betray us. But by a casualty he discovered our design ; and having frightened him half to death, and bound him by a solemn oath not to divulge, wo proceeded on our work. At length we had so far succeeded, that another night would have effected our escape ; as might be expected our joy was great at the prospect of speedy liberty : we fancied our troubles and sorrows were near to an end. Under this happy feeling we pro- ceeded with our day's labor, (breaking stones) with cheerfulness, little suspecting a disappoint- ment. About eleven o'clock in the morning, we heard the turnkey enter our apartment and order every one out of the room, saying, " / be- lieve some of you are adopting some measttre for escape ; J am come to see whether it is so or noty He began by examining the beds; (we had then one straw bed for each two) on coming to the 'f- g a string old man^s ^as to bo tm his la' ied round f us hear- old man's drew him [)undly for our plan rupted by I he was a >nfined for desist un- )etray us. r design ; death, and vulge, wo we had so ould have peeled our dy liberty : were near ig we pro- ng stones) iisappoint- 3 morning, tment and ng, " / be- easure for so or not.^^ re had then ling to the LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. 145 old man's and mine, (we were comrados) he found our saw hid among the straw. He next commenced a close examiation of the bars and windows, and on coming to the one in which the cut was made, as if aware that was the place, he paid more than ordinary attention, and not- withstanding the cut /as carefuUv filled up with charcoal and tallow, he soon discovered it, upon which he exclaimed, ^' ah, here it is ! 1 have found the place where th^y are hreoldng away .'" Our feelings were unutter n>ly pain- ful at this discover)) ; we looked on Jich other with sorrowful hearts, that ou' b opes were ihus once more blasted, and our expe^tatibns of de- liverance from our misery cut off. We were soon all collected togetner, and driven like slaves into the dungeon ; and those who were suspected as the worst, were immediately put into irons : among whom was Mr. Pireau and myself, as they supposed us to be the ring lead* ers ; and when the keeper made the affair pub- lic, we were published as such, although in re- ality, we were no m«>re deeply involved than the rest. After remaining for a number of days in this situation, and when they thought we had suffered enr ugh, a blacksmith was brought to relieve us from our irons, and we were plac- ed back into our old abode, viz. the noxious, unhealthy room facing the back yard. The old man however, suffered several weeks lon- ger than the rest, through the cruelty of the blacksmith ; for while taking off our irons, he was so careless as to strike our legs, and oth- 14 i>i 1 • ■ ■ y* ' ! ..1 Mif 1'; 1 I l' i 146 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. ii erwise injure us by his brutality. The old man loudly complained of such rough treat- ment, and besought him to use him more gent- ly ; whereupon, the unfeeling wretch became more careless, and the old man still complain- ing, he refused to take them off and left him ; through which circumstance he wore them near- ly a month longer. I had now spent about sixteen months in my dreary abode, when I heard that my regiment was ordered home, and had arrived at Quebec for the purpose of embarking. Upon this in- formation, I fondly indulged a delusive hope that I shoi^ld be released from my confinement, and taken back to my regiment, and my COUNTRY,where I might expect a discharge, through the influence of my parents. Being visited almost every day by the soldiers, I made every possible inquiry respecting the probabilities of my future fate, but could learn nothing satisfactory. Desirous of improving my opportunity, 1 petitioned the body of offi- cers, humbly confessing my error, and solici- ting their clemency and official influence in setting me at liberty. A few days expired, and Capt. Pierce came to visit me, and ad if 1 had not suffered half enough, he began to curso ?nd sware at me, like a man void of compas- sion, on account of my crime. His unexpec- ted and ungodly treatment struck me dumb, so that I scarcely said ten words during the visit. He told me the officers had received my peti- tion, but that they could not assist me ; there- The old vh treat- ore gent- becamo omplatn* efl him ; em near- hs in m^ regiment Quebec i this in- ive hope inement, and my scharge, Being Idiers, I ting the ild learn nproving of offi- id solici- ence in expired; d ad if I to curso compas- mexpec- lumb, so he visit, my peti- there- LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 147 fore I must be content to wait the expiration of my term of imprisonment. He then presen- ted me with a dollar, saying, " / give you this that you may apply it to your present necessities,^^ Upon this, I bowed and thanked him for his kindness, and he left me. 1 could not help re- garding this gift as a token of some remain- ing tenderness, from one whose general appear- ance and manners, bespoke a heart impregna- ble to human suffering. I next wrote to the Adjutant, who also visited me, and appeared so kind and familiar, that I was freed from my embarrassment, and talked freely about my views and feelings. I gave him to understand I had been informed, that in consequence of having been delivered over to civil power, I was no longer a soldier, as that act had absol- ved me from sustaining any other relation, save that of a civilian, and that as my discharge had been given over to the court at my trial, it must be given me at the end of my term of imprisonment. He told me I was not dischar- ged, as my name still continued on the military roll, and that it was probable I should eventual- ly be joined to some other corps. This information tended effectually to dis- courage me, and to cut off almost my last hope; for I saw it was quite probable, I should be tri- ed for desertion, after my imprisonment, and perhaps be transported for life in some con- demned corps. A few days previous to the embarkation of the regiment, I wrote to Col- 9nel R. requesting an interview, (in conse- 14* f ii ' n ■: • I i 1 ■■■'^.. ;sn k ilk l^»:v 148 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. t ■ I'i 'il! : ;. ^- t quence of the death of Col. Andrews, who di- ed in Kingston, this officer was now comman- der of the regiment) he came, and to him I humbly confessed my error, and implored his influence to effect my release from prison and restoration to the regiment. In answer, he said his influence could do me no good, as he could not procure my release ; if he could, it would afford him pleasure to do it. He expressed his sorrow at seeing my situation, and said he hoped it would end in my good ; I next asked him about my discharge ; he said I was still a soldier, but not under their command, in con- sequence of which, they must leave me behind, the governor having power to do as his wisdom should direct after my release. From this I concluded that my days of happiness were past and that I was doomed to sorrow and suffering during the rest of my life. Before the regi- ment left Quebec, all the foreigners were dis- charged, so that they might have none but British subjects under their command ; these discharged soldiers rendered me some impor- tant relief by their generosity ; for which may they be rewarded in heaven ! Having failed in every attempt we had yet made, our hearts were sunken, and we were therefore miserable and unhappy, but still desir- ous of improving every opportunity, in which we could discover any hope of success : we each seperatley joined to watch for our own re- lief. Having now only one alternative, we thought of improving that in hopes of gaining I I who di- omman* him I red his ison and he said le could t would pressed said he xt asked s still a in con- behind, wisdom )m this I ere past suffering the regi- i^ere dis- ione but I ; these J impor- ich may lad yet ive were ill desir- n which 3ss : we own re-? ive, we gaining .! r MFE OF W. B. LIOIITOPS. 149 ■Mi our release, which was to petition to the gov- ernor, and humbly implore His Excellency's clemency in our behalf ; but of all the number of petitions we sent, we received no answer or assistance. Thinking we had now exhausted every means within our power to gain our lib- erty, or any relief from our misery, we delist- ed from all further efforts and submitted our- selves as patiently as we could to our wretched and miserable fate. Hut we had not been long in this state of gloomy despair before our hopes were again lit up far brighter than evsr, inso- much; that it exhilerated our feeble strength, and made us think without a doubt our present troubles and sorrows were near an end. 'J'he circumstance was as follows. A ship of the line had arrived in the harbor, the officers of which visited the prison for the purpose of ob- taining some able bodied men to go on board for the service. The keepers of the prison permitted us all into their presence, when they asked us if we were willing to volunteer to go on board a man of war, to which we all answer- ed in the affirmative. They then proceeded to take down our names, &c. telling us they should send for us in a few days. But alas ! our hopes were soon disappointed in hearing that they had sailed : — why or wherefore they did not take us wc were never informed. At length I obtained the confidence of my keepers, who were so kind as to relieve me from my continemei i. by taking me to act as waiter for a gentleman confined for debt, which u ; 4: Ml! 't ;■■ •ill ,■^| ■:.f ' ■ if u m iliil: Ut i .'I I I ll IP il IIT" 150 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. '.1 :J service procured me the liberty of the yard, though I was still shut u^^ in my room at night. In the mean time the prisoners contrived anoth- er plan to attempt an escape, and notwitstand- ing their former ill success determined to pros- ecute it. The plan was at once hazardous and cunning ; it was to descent the draught of the privy, and follow up the channel, and coming under the public street, to cut a hole through, and escape. In taking this course, we had to act with great caution, as we had to pass under several draughts, directly by the gaoler's apart- ment ; hence, if any had been visiting those places, we must inevitably have been discover- ed by our lights. As I had the privilege of being out of my room every day, the prisoners depended on me to procure them a supply of candles to aid them in carrying on the scheme, which I was fortunate enough to do, as I had then a few pence by me, and being more will- ing to support them in their plan, I denied my-, self of the relief and comfort it would otherwise have afforded, and bought of the gaoler (as he kept a small store in the prison) all the lights necessary for the accomplishment of their ob- ject. To form come idea of the practicability of the plan, Mr. Pireau o^«> id to decend and reconnoiter, and ascertain the difficulties to be surmounted. Accordingly a strong rope was procured, and he, taking a firm grasp of the end, was gradually lowered down to the bottom of the draught, though with much inconveni- ence on account of the narrow aperture. The LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 151 the yard, I at night. 'ed anoth- twitstand- i to pro8- rdous and ght of the I conning through^ /e had to ass under »r's apart- ing those discover- vilege of prisoners supply of 5 scheme, as I had nore will-* snied my-. otherwise er (as he he lights heir ob- ticability end and les to be •ope was p of the e bottom conveni- •e. Th9 ^^otd fox^^ soon returned, and shaking the rope, was drawn up in triumph ; he declared nothing could be more encouraging, as there was but one obstacle in the way, which was an iron grating formed of single bars directly under the wall of the prison yard ; one of which, he said, must be cut away in order to allow us to get under the street. He jocosely observed, that of all the ways he had been in his life, that was the most foul and offensive ; and indeed well it might be, as it was the common receptacle of ill the prison filth, &c. Materials were soon i>rocured for the purpose of cutting the bar, which the old man soon effected. Desirous to know something about the prospect before us, and anxious to afford some assistance, in com- pany with another prisoner, I descended, and havmg spent a short time in examining the point of attack, returned and reported my opin- ion that it was practicable. It was now agreed that all should descend, as we did not intend making the hole until we were all ready for a pop-out. One individual declined accompanying us, as his health was very feeble, and his time of imprisonment was nearly expired ; he promised, however, to re- main in his bed, until the turnkey should come ^o bring in the wood for our fire in the morn- ing ; that upon discovery of our absence, he would affect entire ignorance. Satisfied with this promise, one evening afler the turnkey had gone his rounds at nine o'clock, we descended, nine of us in number, and proceeded up the I i1 ' U . i I ■ III ■J :', I r 152 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. ■t,. ll'V channel. In coming to the narrow places be- tween the draughts, we experienced great dif^ ficulty, as n great rain, which had recently fal- len had filled up the channel, so that crawlinff as we were obliged to do, on our hands ana knees, we were in danger of suffocationi and with all our efforts we could but just keep our heads above the rapid current of filthy water The prisoners were sadly disappointed at having to endure such troubles, for they had expected to be able to walk ;3rect, and without difficulty ; they conseqently began to blame and censure us most blasphemously for having brought them into such a filthy hole. Some were so unfortunate as to drown their lights and were consequently involved in darkness, which 80 discouraged them, that they would have turn- ed and gone back, but the channel was too nar- row to afford them that privilege ; they were therefore obliged to go ahead. The old man, who was forward, and who kept his light burn- ing, endeavored to encourage the rest behind him, and in return for his courage, would re- ceive oaths and curses. Indeed, the scene was one of the most ludicrous that could well be imagined : nor could I refrain from laughing heartily, to hear the prisoners bewailing their calamity as they toiled up the way upon their hands and knees. We could not possibly avoid getting wet all over ; this we had in a measure expected ; and had consequently put on our poorest articles of clothing, carrying the rest in our bundles for a change. But notwithstand- LIFE/)F W. B. LIGHTON. 153 >lace8 be- great dif- cently fal- t crawlinff tiands and ition, and keep our thy water )ointed at they had id without to blame for having le. Some ' lights and ess, which have turn- s too nar* hey were old man, ight burn- ;st behind would re- scene was lid well be laughing ling their upon their ibiy avoid measure it on our V the rest withstand- I ing all our efforts, our bundles became as wet as ourselves, as we were unable to carry them in our arms, but were obliged to drag them along in the best way we could. The place of operation was more spacious, and afforded us a little relief from our toil and danger; there we all stopped, expecting in a few moments to breathe a purer air, and to enjoy the blessings of liberty. I was then ordered forward to as- sist the old man in preparing the excavation, as only two of us could labor together. After la- boring some time without the least sign of suc- cess,the men became dissatisfied,and impatient, when the following conversation took place : " Well, are you almost ready ?" No, was our reply. A few moments passed, and they in- quired more earnestly : " Have you got the hole made ?" We answered no. At which they became more uneasy ; some swore, and others blackguarded us f<3r being lazy. Again they exclaimed, " Is the hole made now ?" Again we answered no : " Well what is the matter, don't you do any thing ?" Yes ! we shall get through by and by, only keep still. They now began praising us until their fit of impatience came upon them, and they inquired again,halloo there, old fox,what are you about ? Is the hole made now ? We answered no, and we are afraid we shall not be able to accom- plish much, the water is so high, besides we must have something with which to dig into the wall. It may be observed here, that we had no implement to aid us but the bar^ we had cut m Hl'il I.* I ^1 M IB i i 154 LIFE OF W. B. LTGIITON. out of the grating, and the channel being wal- led on each side, and overlaid with large tim- bers, we could not make the least impression. The prisoners again demanded if we were ready to go out ; to which we replied, it was impossi- ble to succeed that night ; and it was best for us to return to our room, until the water should subside, and we be able to procure some arti- cle to aid us in forcing away the stones and timbers. Now commenced a scene the most infamous and diabolical I ever witnessed in my life. On account of our ill success, the prisoners became extremely enraged, and cursed the old man and myself for having brought them down into that wretched filthy hole. They set up a most hideous yell and pronounced curses enough had they been heard, to have sunk them and the draught into perdition. For my own part, I heartily wished their heads fast stuck in the filth, through which they were struggling, until they learnt how to be silent. After regaining the draught, we hailed the man, who remained in the room, who lowered the rope, and drew up the lightest of us, and then one after the other, we ascended to our abode, wet and mis- erable, where we had to cleanse, and hang up our clothes to be put on wet in the morning. It was well for us that the individual, who was our main help in getting back into the room, re- mained there, or we must have suffered, if not some of us perished before morning. After wringing out my clothes, I retired to fjing wal- arge tim- ipression. ere readv m 3 impossi- ,s best for ;er should iome arti- ones and ; infamous life. On s became man and [ into that 3 a most s enough hem and own part, ck in the ing, until egaining emained and drew after the and mis- hang up ling. It who was 'oom, re- (d, if not 2tired to LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 155 bed \ where, having nothing but a blanket to cover me, I passed the night, cold and shiver- ing. In the morning, I arose and passed to my duty without any remark made about my appearance, and probably our attempt would have remained undiscovered, had it not been for the treachery of one of our number, who, regardless of the solemn oath he had taken, revealed the whole circumstance to the gaoler, and turnkey, a short time after I had left the room to wait as usual on the gentleman before mentioned. No sooner were they informed of the fact than they drove us all down into the dungeon, where they examined us, to ascertain who were the instigators and ringleaders of the plot. As the old man and myself were found guilty in the former case, so were we condemned as the instigators of this plan, and were consequently loaded heavily with irons. While in this helpless situation, two of the prisoners conceiving me to be the cause of their being immersed in the dungeon, afflicted me with the most violent abuse, and even robbed me of my food. However, the night relieved me from the company of these ungrateful wretches, as they were taken back to their room, while my comrade and myself were left inmates of the dark, miserable hole ; but it seemed less filthy after the others had been re- moved. As our irons were very troublesome, my old comrade, with the help of a piece of iron, made out to cut his in such a way, that he could put 15 I ri M 156 LIPK OF W. B. LIGHTON. them off and on at pleasure ; so that during the day he would walk about the dungeon without them, and sleep with them off at night ; but on the approach of the turnkey, would put them on again ; when one day the turnkey surprised him before he had time to get them on, they wero immediately riveted on more firmly than ever. Upon being restored back to my room, I re- solved v/ithin myself, that I would never make another attempt to escape in company with oth- ers, inasmuch, as there were some, who would be sure to betray, either from fear, or desire to gain the approbation and favor of the officers of the prison. It was only a few days af\er I had been placed back in my room, that ome of tho prisoners made another attempt to escape by the same way. The turnkey had just gone his round, when OiV? of them descended the draught to examine the grating, &.c. when, in less than five minutes, the keepers sprang in suddenly, ana began their inquiries, by asking for old Mr. P. and myself. Happily we were in bed; but although we informed them of the fact,they could hardly be persuaded that it was not us, who had descended the draught, until the gaol- er's wife came to our bed and assured them we were indeed there. She appeared to be much concerned about us, and would not be satisfied with our answers ; but as the light was in the hands of the turnkey, in another part of the room, she felt the outside of the bed in order to assure herself that we were there. She a^ked ■«?■ N. LIFE OV W. B* LIGHTON. 157 during tho )n without it ; but on 1 put them r surprised n on, they firmly than room, I re- lever make y with oth- who would >r desire to ! officers of after I had ome of tho escape by St gone his ihe draught n less than 1 suddenly, ing for old ere in bed; le fact, they was not us, il the gaol- ed them we o be much be satisfied was in the >art of the in order to She a!=ked us if we had any hand in breaking out ; we tuld her no, nor we never meant to be guilty of such a crime again, so long as we remained in prison. The poor fellow who had descended, was soon taken out through a trap-door, when the turnkey heat him most shamefully with a cudg- el, and in a cruel manner drove him down to the dungeon, where he was heavily ironed, and kept for a considerable time. This circum- stance had such an effect on the prisoners that they abandoned all idea of liberation until their time should bo expired. As I had resolved to adopt the same resolu- tion, I chought it best, while shut up from ac- tive life, to devote myself to the improvement of my mind, which would tend to prepare me for future happiness. My means of improve- ment were very small ; I had access to but very few books ; however, I strove to improve some- what in writing, arithmetic and drawing ; to which studies I devoted every moment of lei- sure I possessed. I soon found this course ef- ficient to relieve rne of that insufferable prison melancholy, of which I had heretofore been the unhappy subject, and it proved ultimately to pave the way for the unexpected and glorious change I subsequently experienced. About this time it happened, that a young Englishman was committed to our prison for a petty crime. He was well educated, and pos- sessed a tenderness of manner, which rendered him beloved by the prisoners. By a long train of misfortunes he had become reduced to the r'^ 158 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 1 1 m^ i i' lowest state of degradation ; when, for the ffratification of his sinful, and intemperate hab- its, he committed the act which brought him into prison. Young reader, what thmk you was the first cause of this young man's down- fall, and wretchedness — O ! it was cruel diso- bedience to dear and affectionate PARENTS. Nor was he the only instance among the many that were under confinement ; some indeed, could date their whole sufferings from the crime above mentioned. O then, beware ! refrain from the accursed evil, for it leads to every spe- cies of wretchedness, and not unfrequently to a deplorable and untimely death. Hear your duty from the mouth of God upon this subject. ^^ Honor thy father and thy mother ; Oiat thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.^^ But to proceed with my narrative : He had not been here long, before we formed the most intimate friendship, and as he loved reading, he joined with me in my studies, and read every book which he could obtain. Amonff many we borrowed, was Bunyan's Pilgrim's I'rogress ; a book to which we were both entire strangers, as well as to the matter it contained. As my young friend read, I used to sit and listen ; be had not read far before I became truly enamor- ed with the fascinating manner of the author. In describing the Pilgrim's manner of leaving the city of destruction (his native home) and pursuing his heavenly journey through trials and troubles, with the most minute circumspec- LIFE OF W. 11. IJGIITON. 159 n, for the aerate hab- ou^ht him think you in's down- cruel diso- LRENTS. ; the many 16 indeed^ I the crime i ! refrain every spe- quently to iear your is subject. ; Uiat thy the Lord He had I the most mding, he sad every many we Vogress ; trangers, As my sten ; he enamor- e author, f leaving >me) and h trials iumspec- tion, I could not help feeling convinced that that was the only way to heaven and happiness; and I felt as if 1 must pass through the laver of regeneration and become spiritually united to our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, and by his grace become obedient, in order to gain " ever- lasting life ;" and in reading his account of the pilgrim's losing his burden at the foot of the cross,! could not but desire a similar happiness, and wished that God would be pleased to re- move the burden of my sins, as I felt the im- portance and necessity of such a work. After perusing this work and contemplating the hap- py and triumphant end of the way worn pil- grim, I became the subject of serious reflec- tions, which produced the deepest convictions for sin. At length Divine Providence opened the way for the bringing about his merciful de- signs towards me. We were visited by a Mr. Archibald, a minister of the gospel, and anoth- er gentleman, whose name I have forgotten, an officer belonging to the Royal Engineer De- partment. These gentlemen possessed a sweet- ness of disposition, that I have never found ex- cept in those who have the mind of their heav- enly master Jesus Christ. Their piety was deep and fervent : it shone conspicuous in their deportment, and by their conversation and man- ner it was evident they had been with Jesus. Mr. A. used to take me aside, and with much affection of manner strive to impress my mind with the importance of a change of heart. He faithfully warned me of my danger, he told me 16* 'I •I 160 LIFE OP W. B. LIGIITON. 1 1' I I was a sinner, at an almost infinite distance from God, and that if I would be reconciled, I must take the Lord Jesus Christ for my Saviour, and repent of all my sins . But I felt like most sinners, though under deep convictions, as if I could not attend to his instructions thciiy but thought I would after I was liberated, as at present I was surrounded by what might em- fhatically be called the devils oxen children, who thought would ridicule me if I became relig- ious. Thus did I, for a long time, drown my tender feelin.q;s, and grieve the Holy Spirit; but still I could not rest, for although 1 could resist and grieve the Spirit, I could not resist convic- tion ; it would follow me in spite of all that I could do. One afternoon I attended the prison chapel, when we were addressed by a perfect stranger. He was an elderly gentleman ; his dress was that of an old fashioned Methodist preacher, such as I had seen worn in England ; his pe- culiar appearance ciltracted my attention, and prepared me to hear with profit. His prayer was fervent and powerful, and it seemed as if he would not let go of heaven, until God had blessed him, and his suffering auditory. While praying for the prisoners, he seemed to carry my peculiar case to the throne of grace, and I felt my convictions increase so powerfully, that I should have been pleased could I have got away. In his sermon, he showed Christ to be the great sacrifice for sin ; ho pointed out the sin- f. LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. 161 te distance conciled, I ly Saviour, t like most ns, as if I iheny but ted, as at might em- Wren, who ime relig- Irown my Spirit; but >uld resist st convic- all that I in chapel, stranger. ^ress was preacher, his pe- tion, and is prayer ed as if God had While to carry e, and I illy, that lave got 3 be the the sin- i fulness of sin, and spake of its efiects in the inost affecting and alarming manner. He then Addressed himself to the prisoners, and showed lis that all our sufferings, and loss of happiness had been occasioned by sin, and then affection- ately invited us to Christ ; urging the most weighty motives to repentance and faith, and pointing out their blessed effects. I could not resist the eloquence of his pleadings ; my heart was melted, so that I was barely able to refrain from weeping. At the close of the meeting, I went to the venerable preacher, and taking him aside, said to him. Sir, I am desirous to become a better man ; I wish to be pious ; I am sensible I have hitherto lived an enemy to God ; I ask your council and your prayers, that your labor may not be lost upon me, when I could refrain no longer from giving vent to my feelings in a flood of tears. With the deepest affection he took me by the hand, and earnestly entreated me not to stifle my good impressions, but sub- mit to them, until they should be succeeded by an evidence, that I wat born of God ; adding, you must pray for mercy and pardon ; believe in the Lord Jesus Christ ; confess your sins ; forsake all your evil doings, and he will receive >->u. I said, I could not pray, as I did not know how. Said he, you can pray the Lord's Prayer : I answered, I could, as I was taught it by my parents when a child. He bid me use that, and advised me to make it jmy models in all my addresses to the throne of grace. He iii, I i »"(iP i' 4 ii. li" .' i' ^ 11 I .1 ] M 1; !•'*#!! I iyf< 164 LIFE OF W. B. LTGIITON. the verge of hell, and that the infiniteBeing was displeased with me : now, I could feel that Heaven smiled propitiously, and owned me for an heir of its sacred bliss. O, blessed be God, I felt redeemed from sin, and guilt, despair, and misery — death and hell. The Lord Jesus Christ was my advocate, and I was justified, and pardoned by his precious blood. I was now lost to the world, and alive only to praise and thanksgiving. 1 walked my room in the dark hour of night, transported with the light of God's countenance. 1 could say, " How divinely sweet are all thy ways. My Boul shall sing thy wondVous praise, The loudest notes of heavenly joy, Shall all my life, my powers employ." And again, I could say with adoring gratitude for so great a deliverance, "Where shall my wondering soul begin 1 How shall I all to heaven aspire 1 A slave redeemed from death and sin ! A brand, pluck *d from eternal fire ! How shall I equal triumphr^ raise. Or sing my gre-t deliverer's praise V* I retired to bed that night with a confidence that whether I slept the sleep of death, or lived till the morning, I was the Lord's. I awoke full of rejoicing in the morning : heaven was my all, and earth appeared a dream. My soul was happy ; truly happy ; so much so, that it ceemed as if the sky of my hope would never be darkened. On the return of Mr. A. I related to him my IV. LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 165 eBeing was id feel that vned me for 3ed be God, iespair, and Lord Jesus IS justified, od. I was \y to praise room in the th the light > g gratitude confidence th, or lived I awoke ?aven was My soul so, that it luld never to him my feelings. He asked me many questions, and gave me much comforting advice, with a prom- ise to visit me every week. My conversion had a favorable impression upon my fellow prisoners, so that we had peace generally. They were mostly Catholics, though they gave but little evidence of being christians. They were saints, or sinners, by turns, just as matters suited. Before their priests, they would con- fess ; and on receiving absolution, feel as safe as if there were no day of retribution, or no God to judge. May God teach the reader the religion of the Bible, and save him from such a curse as Catholicism ! In this steady frame of mind, I enjoyed my- self for some time, when some of the prisoners commenced a system of persecution, that mar- red, for a short season, my enjoyments. I re- ceived it from those most opposed to every thing that was good, which is generally the case with those hardened in sin and iniquity. Among other ways these sons of persecution and folly took to injure me, was the following. They reported to the turnkey, that I had con- spired to mutinize — that my plan was to arm myself with a cudgel, and as he came his round at nine o'clock, to knock him down, take pos- session of his keys, strip him of his clothes, and put them on, and then liberate all the pris- oners, and free myself from confinement. The turnkey, imagining that there might be some truth in this ingenious lio, actually prepared himself for the onset^if any such thing should be ri| 1 ^* < ','■.' I ,-11 i;'i ^<''i!! ' 'iiiii I n A ■> If », 166 LIFK OF W. B. LIGHTON. attempted. When the hour arrived, he came into the room, and inquired for me. 1 was in the apartment where my bed was, quietly en- gaged in my studies, and notwithstanding my amicable engagement, he thus addressed me : " I understand, Lighton, you are calculating tu mutiny — to knock me down, take my keys and clothes, and escape with the rest of the prison- ers." He now became enraged, and swore like a maniac : holding v:p his bunch of massive keys in my face, he declared he would beat my brains out with them, if I dared to attempt any such thing. I was so surprised at this unlock- ed for address, that I scarcely knew how to speak in vindication of my innocence. At length I made out to tell him, that such a thought never entered my head ; that I was disposed to be quiet, and harmless, and should continue so, until the day of my release. This plan of the devil and his agents, greatly troubled my soul; but by Grod's grace, I was naabled to endure it. Upon mature reflection, the turnkey was con- vinced that the report of the prisoners was a lie, got up only to injure me ; so that I was justified, and they, in turn, condemned. Thus the devil was caught in his own snare. The grace of God which I had obtained, enabled me to indure the suftt rings incident to my situation, with less impatience, and consequently freed me from much uneasiness and inward trouble . By degrees I grew bolder in recommending re- ligion to my comrades, and as I often interfered to prevent their jars and quarrels, they distin- ^■ym.. he came I was in lietly en- nding my 3sed me : Lilating to keys and le prison- ad swore f massive I beat my empt any 3 unlook- ' how to A.t length thought sposed t6 itinue so, m of the my soul; sndure it. yas con- rs was a I at I was Thus ■e. The ibled me ituation, ly freed trouble . iding re- iterfered y distin- LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 167 guished me by the name of ^^ peace maker. ^^ One of our number, whose name was John Hart, became the subject of the most powerful awakening, from the following circumstance. His comrade, whose name was Robinson, (these were the persons that so abused me, and robbed me of my food, when in irons in the dungeon) had been released from prison, and soon afler, engaged to rob a house. He fell from the roof, and was so injured that he died. Hart, on hearing the news, was filled with fear and con- sternation : he trembled as if he had received his death warrant. Such was the horror of his soul that he thought he was dying ; and reques- ted me to send for ]V!r. A. 1 accordingly wrote him a line, but before he arrived, the poor fel- low had in some measure, recovered from his anguish. He promised, however, if God would spare his life, he would live better, and no more do as he had done. He maintained this reso- lution a few days, and then returned to a course of sin and forgetfulness of God, and I am sorry to add, that aftar his dismission from prison, he engaged in robbing a French church, and fin- ished his career upon the gallows. What an awful lesson does this teach us ! Reader, are you grieving the Holy Spirit of God, by which you are enlightened, and made meet for the heavenly kingdom ? O, how careful should we be to follow its sacred teachings, lest we grieve it once too much, and then lose our precious souls ! Being desirous of informing my parents of 16 <■ ' 1 1 ■ ' ■ ,i'i. yii W n :>i 1 1 168 i.irn or \r. n. lioiitox. < f : I '■M„'h i ■ ii ' riil ^ (!:• ^^: 1' !, i ii '1 ! 1" ; i ii'S it t I I my situation, and tlio happy change I had ex- perienced, I wrote thcni a letter, informing them of nil that had hcfallen me. I placed it in the hands of I\lr. A. who engaged to forward it for me the first opportunity ; but I never re- ceived any answer in return, which still kept me under very unpleasant feelings, from the same fears as mentioned before. At length the gentleman who came as com- panion with Mr. A. was called by Divine jProvidence to leave Quebec. Before his de- parture, he came to pay us his last visit, which proved to be an interesting and profitable sea- son. After having given us much good advice and fervently commended us to God in prayer, he took us each by the hand and aftcctionatcly bade us farewell. It was the most interesting season I ever witnessed; every eye was drown- ed in tears, and every heart full, and as he left us, wo wished the blessing of those, who arc ready to perish, might be upon him. Not only did the Lord impart the blessing of his grace to my soul, whereby 1 was able to Bay : Through every period of my life, Thy goodnestj I'll pursue ; And after death, in distants worlds, The pleasing theme renew. Through all eternity, to thee A grateful song f'll raise. But O ! eternity 8 too short, To utter all thy praise, but he opened a door whereby I was relieved from some of my temporal afflictix)ns. The I I had ex- informing I placed it to forward I never re- h still kept ^, from the le as corn- by Divine )re his de- 'isit, which fitable sea- ood advice in prayer, bctionately interesting ivas drown- d as he left e, who arc blessing of ivas able to as relieved ons. The LlFi: OF VV. n, LlGllTON. 169 gaoler, discovering my integrity and desire of usefulness, employed me to mark the prison bedding, clothes, &,c. by doing which, I occa- sionally obtained the liberty of the yard. It w as soon aflcr proposed to establish a school in the prison, fur the benefit of the illiterate and entirely ignorant, and by the advice of Mr. A. I was chosen to instruct in English, and a young man of suitable talents was appointed to teach the French language. To encourage us, they promised to reward us liberally, if we suc- ceeded in gaining their applause. We com- menced our new work by prayer, in presence of Mr. A. and the committee, which was cho- sen to superintend its operations. Our success was such as to call forth the unqualified appro- bation of the committee, who were highly grat- ified at the progress we made. While engaged in the school, I had the sum of four dollars sent me, by my worthy friend, Mr. W. of Mon- treal, which proved of great service, as I had not received any thing fur my labors in teach- ing, and was in consequence thereof, under de- plorable circumstances. But thank God he was mindful and merciful toward me, in that he was pleased to relieve me in an hour, when I most needed it, my soul could say, "Behind a fiowninnf Providence He hides a smiling face." As I stood in need of provision, I sent out and purchased a whole sheep, (dressed) some peas, &,c. The man just arrived wivh it as Mr. A. came to visit the school. Not designing he ,1 , I '; 1' I i- 170 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTOX. should know it, I hastened to secrete it in a cell in the room, but his eye being too sharp for me, he caught sigut of it, and supecting by the bustle something was on foot, his curiosity led him to look into the cell, where, to his surprise, he saw the whole carcass of a sheep placed up in one corner. Turning from the cell, he ask- ed me whose it was, I told him it was mine. "Well then," said he, "you mean to live well I see." Indeed, this circumstance had a bad ef- fect upon his liberality, as neither my comrade nor myself ever received any renumeration for our trouble. They thought we lived well enough without it. Upon the approach of spring, our school closed, through the neglect of the prisoners, when the committee thought it advisable to close it for the season. No one having any thing against my character, the keepers said nothing to mc about returning to my close room, but still permitted me to enjoy the liberty of the yard. Things were in this situation, when a French gentleman, named Moruia, by profession a doc- tor, was committed to prison, though unjustly, for six months. This gentleman soon became my friend, and as he occupied a private room, succeeded in gaining the consent of the gaoler, for me to room with him ; which circumstance made me comparatively happy. I saw the fin- ger of Providence evidently at work in my be- nalf, and began to indulge a hope that circum- stances would soon conspire to favor my escape. While with the doctor, he cured me of a can- ' 1 ►IV. te it in a cell oo sharp for cting by the curiosity led lis surprise, p placed up Jell, he ask- was mine. live well I id a bad cf- ny comrade neration for lived welJ pproach of the neglect 5 thought it 1. No one racter, the eturning to ne to enjoy n a French ision a doc- 1 unjustly, >n became ^ate room, the gaoler, cumstance iw the fin- in my be- at circum- Tiy escape. ' of a can- LIFE 01' \V. B. LIGHTON. 171 cer, which for some time had filled me with alarm, and threatened me with early dissolution. He also gave me some clothing, which togeth- er with what I received from the jail made mo quite comfortable in that respect. The providence of God still worked in my favor, and caused my heart to leap with inward joy. I was again taken into employ by the gaoler. His bo whom he employed as ser- vant, left him, i-Uid as he wanted another to take the immediate charge of his horses, that were stabled within the walls of the prison yard, he pitched on me to supply that vacant place. I had not lived in this situation a week, before I discovered a possibility of making my escape, and having the highest confidence in the Doc- tor, I mentioned it to him, for his consideration, who, transported with so favorable a plun, cau- tioned me to keep it a profound secret, and when the propitious moment arrived, he would abscond with me, merely tor the sake of making my escape complete. Meanwhile he began sending out his library to a friend in the city ; but this excited no suspicion as his time was nearly expired. Before 1 proceed further, I will just mention the principle existing in the bosom of the Doc- tor, that influenced him to this philanthropic and benevolent act. It was that he had a sin- cere and friendly regard for my happiness. To use his own words, he said : " When I think of your situation, the misery you have to euffer, and very probably will have to undergo 16* 31;: ■I .1 'I ■ i I Sf i ': i IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) h A A /, % 1.0 ir^- IIM ■" ill „„, ^o 1.1 t 1^ IIIII2.0 1.8 ys _u 1.6 — •< 6" - ► V] y Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 o 'k^"^!^ 172 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. ■i ! '<$ I !i; all your life, from the fact that you are a desert- er from the army, the punishment for which, you have no hope, under the circumstances it was committed, of its being any other than transportation for life, which to me, is the most miserable I can possibly conceive. And again, when I take into consideration youi tender youth, and the probability of your future use- fulness, both to yourself and the world, could you be free, I forbid declining so noble an act, which I well know will be the final means of your deliverance from all your present and fu- ture misery — and will restore you to liberty and happiness. With these feelings I sacrifice all regard to future consequences, for your happi- ness, and should I be taken for my escape, I shall have the pleasure and satisfaction to know you are free, and that my memory is cherished ttt your affections for the ad.^^ In regard to the propriety of escaping, my feelings were somewhat delicate, but the idea of being ultimately transported, operated like a goad to urge me on to the attempt ; and me- thinks every candid reader will justify the act. As it was my business to take care of the horses, I had access to the south garret of the prison, to get their grain, which garret was close by the room where we lived. My plan was to secure the keys of this place, and by the aid of a rope descend from the window to the street, it being unsecured by iron bars. The Doctor had prepared every thing for our exit and we only waited to obtain possession ' i tIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 173 df the keys. It happened one evening, that beine in want of grain for my horses, I went to the Kitchen, as usual, where the keys were kept, and found no person there except a little girl about twelve years of age ; I took them from their place and passed out unobserved, went up to the garret as quick as possible, and got my grain ; the Doctor and myself obser- ving where was a long stout rope, and in leav- ing the garret, lefl the inner door unlocked,but to prevent suspicion, fastened the outer door as usual. This done I secured the keys in my own room ; went down stairs and attended to my duty iii the stable, and returned to my apartment without exciting the least suspicion, in the breasts of any. How did my heart flut- ter at the idea of the prospect before me ! How anxious did I feel for the success of my enter- prise ! How impatient for the hour of attempt! Every thing was tranquil through the even- ing ; at nine o'clock the turnkey came his usu- al round ; he entered our room, and looking round, wished us good night, and retired. We now fancied ourselves secure, which pro- duced in us the highest feelings of animation. About ten o'clock we were suddenly alarmed by the turnkey, whom we heard unlocking the doors which shut across the passage, leading to our room. Terrified, and fearful we were dis- covered, wo threw our half prepared bundles under the bed, and sat apparently deeply enga- ged in study, waiting the event. However, it proved to be nothing more than the arrival of a w 4 li'i. ' ■■ If' 1 ;■ i' 1 ';p i lif^'' liii^ 11 1; <.'f,V: I , 174 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. new prisoner, who was placed in an adjoining room, by the turnkey, who just came into ours, and bidding us a second good night, left us without suspecting our design. Not feeling disposed to sleep, we spent the night watching for the moment which was to free us from the gloom of the prison. Every thing remained perfectly silent, except the city watchmen, who occasionally pronounced their "o// is well,^^ as they passed from beat to beat, an expression which truly accorded with our feelings. At four o'clock, just as the dawn of day was making its appeai-ance in the eastern sky, the watchmen left their several posts ; and we then conceived, at this propitious moment, while darkness overspread the face of nature, and kept man lulled in his slumbers, we should be able to leave the city unobserved. Having secured our bundles, we proceeded to unlock the door of the garret, which we did with but little noise ; we next secured one end of our rope to a brace, but in dropping it by the eaves (for the window stood in upon the roof) it made considerable noise, as the roof was covered with tin. We paused a moment to as- certain if we had alarmed the sentry, who was in the yard at no great distance ; happily, we had not. After dropping the rope I was so transported with the prospect before me, and fearing my bundle would occasion some diffi- culty, I told the Doctor I would leave it for the reason assigned ; he urged me by all means to take it, but without any further words, I seized i II' adjoining into ours, t, left U3 spent the ch was to I. Every ►t the city iced their it to beat, with our J dawn of le eastern osts ; and ; moment, )f nature, we should Having to unlock 1 with but nd of our it by the the roof) roof was ent to as- , who was ippily, we I was so 3 me, and ome diffi- it for the means to , I seized 'i i m-^^t m its' i ;r'i •" ESCAPE FROM PRISON. \ r LIFE OF W. B. UGHTON. 175 the rope and was quickly in the street below, where I retired a short distance to await my companion. He was somewhat longer in de- scending, as he was unwilling I should lose my bundle: he encumbered himself with it. Thus burdened, he had but one hand at liberty to descend with ; ho had however, contrived to place the rope between his feet, but unfortu- nately, in turning the eaves of the building, it slipped from his legs and he had to descend the distance of four story, with one hand only. The suddenness of his descent fired his hand before he got half way down, so that he came near falling, and in consequence of which, it was useless for some time afterwards. Thus were we providentially delivered from the gloomy confinement of a prison, in which I had been confined, for two years and two months, and where I had suffered in the most distressing manner. To that holy and ever merciful Providence,that supported me through the whole, be ascribed ceaseless and everlast- ing praises ! CHAPTER V. An account of his life and trials, from his escape from impria- onment,to his arrival in the United States. There is a peculiar sensation, which the mind feels when it is relieved of its weight of trouble, which none but the subject himself can 1'* * s iji I' ■ 176 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 'i:ij f 1 i'^ fl 1 ,: 1 i; ■' m 1 ! ^ilil realize. It was so in my case. I felt it through my whole soul. The happiness I felt from fin- ding myself freed from confmement, is beyond either the power of my tongue, or pen to de- scribe. It can only be painted upon the imag- ination of my readers, but never really felt but by myself. After my companion had joined me, and de- livered me my bundle, which was what I did not expect, we proceeded out of the city with great speed, the Doctor taking the lead, and pursuing the course he thought best and safest. We soon passed the gate at the back of the city, unobserved by any, or without hearing the least cause for alarm. We next crossed a river, which at this date, the 25th day of April, 182d, was passible by teams While crossing the river, the Doctor, who was a devoted Cath- olic, fell on his knees, and thanked Providence who had protected us and favored our escape. For my own part, though I felt equally grate- ful, I was too afraid of discovery to stop as did my companion, but as I proceeded, praised God and jumped for joy. Indeed, I scarcely knew what to do through animation of feeling, sometimes I would hurry the Doctor to the run, but being consideraby advanced in years, he could not run far before he was obliged to moderate his speed into a walk ; then I would take to the run myself, and beckon him to speed on ; at other times I would jump, talk, laugh, and sing, as if I had been beside my reason. The Doctor thought it best for us to go down ■<■ LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 177 t through from fin- is beyond en to de- the imag- Y felt but ;, and de- /hat I did city with lead, and nd safest, ick of the it hearing crossed a T of April, 3 crossing ted Cath- rovidence ir escape, lly grate- top as did praised scarcely )f feeling, tor to the I in years, obliged to n I would n to speed ilk, laugh, reason, o go down the St. Lawrence, among the population of French inhabitants, as there was no news in circulation that way, and because our pursuers would not suspect us of taking that route ; but would naturally suppose we had gone towards the United States. As it was yet between day-light and sunrise, we pursued our way as speedily as possible, until we came to a piece of woods, where we had a view of the city and firison. We remained some time viewing the atter place, and conjecturing what would be the feelings, and language of the keepers,when they found we had been prison keepers during the past night, and that we had opened the doors and window and fled. Indeed, the con- clusion was so extatic, that it drew from us fits of loud and hearty laughter. The forest song- sters now commenced their sweet reviving notes of praise, and all seemed to return thanks to the great Creator for our deliverance. O ! how delightfully grand was this hour, it tru^y resem- bled the hours I used frequently to paiy» in the groves, when with my dear parents at home. It begat sentiments of filial gratitude, and a desire that I might again breathe the salubri- ous air of my native clime. We were intending to remain in the woods all day, and travel in the night, until we had got some distance from the city, but the cold having such an effect upon us, we were under the necessity of travelling in order to keep our- selves warm. We accordingly pursued our course across the fields, into the back country , 17 I' '■ ill iini ll!:ii' Af ''. mm ' i ill ' HlRi ll 'HI' r "'■ii ■ ' 1 i'l Vi {.1 !i t 178 LIFE OF W. n. LIGHTON. which travelling was beautiful and easy, as we walked on the hard snowy crust. To prevent suspicion on the part of those we might meet, the Doctor resolved to travel in the practice of his profession, and I was to act in the capacity of servant. At noon we partook of dinner in a French family, which was the first social meal I had eaten in a house since I left England. Towards night we came to a bye-place, where we both joined in humbh prayer to Almighty God, giving him thanks for his goodness, and soliciting his protection in future. In this ex- ercise, our souls were encouraged and refresh- ed, and our confidence in God increased. Wo then sought a house^ and having found one, we put up for the night. The next night we arrived at one of the Doc- tor's friends, where we remained over the next day and right, and though he was aware we had been prisoners, having visited the Doctor during his confinement, he had no idea we had run away, but supposed us to be regularly dis- charged, the reverse of which we were careful he should not learn from us. From this place we proceeded to St. Anns, where was a Roman Catholic Church, which was held in high estimation by the French. Having heard much of this place from the pris- oners, while at Quebec, I proposed to visit it, to which my companion assented. To give the reader an idea of the gross superstition of these people, I shall give a true account of the char- " J LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTOX. 179 acter of this noted church, and what the people themselves believe respecting it. St. Ann, as I was informed by the prisoners, and also by my companion, is much regarded as sacred, among the French Roman Catholics, as a place possessing great healing virtues. Such is their faith in St. Ann (after which saint this church is named) that if any of her wor- shippers enter the church lame, mutilated, or sick, and by having faith in her efficacy, she will restore them to iheir original state of health, and bodily perfection. In ascending the ii^teps of the building, the Doctor, as is customary, knelt down crossed himself, and said a few words of prayer, while I stood gazing with a kind of superstitious awe at the sacred edifice. Upon entering, the first object that struck my attention was a number of crutches, wooden legs, staves, &c. hung up in regular rows, as evidence of the cures which had been wrought by the power of St. Ann. As I stepped in, I trembled, as I had never been within a catholic church before ; looking to the right, I observed an imitation of the blessed Saviour, nearly as large as life, hang- ing in a relaxed posture on the cross, besmear- ed with blood ; the image, or painting of St. Ann, and other saints. This sight produced in me feelings of the most solemn kind, and I fell upon my knees and prayed, not to the images, but to him who died upon the cross for the for- giveness of my sins. O ! when will superstition and heathenistn be done away ? May God grant n I, 'i J III m :{ ! !i I; M I"! f ' I Mi m hi 1 ■MH 180 LIF£ OF W. II. LKiilTON. that the light of truth may soon dieperse theie clouds of error ! But I cannot forbear mentioning one more ■uperstitious act of worship, out of the vast many, that are found among those people ; and that is their cross omage. It will be un- derstood that among them they have at ev- ery short distance, a cross erected by the side of the road, and on passing them, the devotee of the Roman Catholic religion pulls off his hat, crosses himself, and repeats over a short prayer, some even kneeling down at the foot of them. On these relics of catholic su- perstition are frequently seen the various arti- cles, used at the crucifixion of the blessed Sa- viour, placed along in order, on the transfixed beam, or cross piece, together with the cock that crotved at Peter's denying his Lord and Master. Reader, how different is this from the mild and simple gospel of Jesus ! O, look at Popery ; see it in its effects. It darkens the page of revelation ; spreads ignorance and confusion throughout society ; and with its un- paralleled tyranny, and bloody inqusitions, robs man of his dearest liberty and rights ! May we feel thankful for the gospel, which teaches us the sound principle of a religion, unadorned with Popery ! The Doctor's profession aflibrded him ample means of support, as he seldom visited a house without doing something for the family, and re- ceiving money in return. Aflcr traveling with bim, in this manner for a week, I resolved to erae theie one more ' the vast 3 people ; ill be un- ivQ at ev- d by the them, the igion pulls ats over a wn nt the itholic su- rious arti- Icssed Sa* transfixed the cock Lord and 8 from the O, look nt irkens the ince and ith its un- ions, robs s ! May 1 teaches jnadorned Ml'K OF W. IJ. IJCillTON. ]81 1^? im ample )d a house y, and re- eling with esolved to Icavo liiiii, and oht.iiti hoiiic (Miiiiloyinent. lie at first disHuadcd mo, but finding inn roBolvcd and decided on llii.s point, ho directed hi!4 atten- tion to procuring me a situation. 1 determin- ed however, (irst to elmnirci my name, the bet- ter to avoid detection. The name 1 chose to ossuine was 'i'homas Kllencourt. The next rj?/F OF M. u, Lr(;H'j():\. ' 'I I f ■f :;!i with in iny own tr.!)gue, except an old Eng- Ushmr.p., who had in early lli'o !icoii a soldier^ but \v!io, tVom thiify years residence with the Fren.'h, had ahr.ost erltir^?ly lost the use of his ov>n lnni;iK}.fi^o. The iiimilv wero ri^nd ':atho)ics. and required of ')]'. tVioir domcotifvj. the strictest conffjnnity to the outward ruhii dT (iu'ir religion. My fcoh.\}[^H wci'Q soi'iowh:)! niortitied the flr.^t time I cnter.'jn tavir church, beini,^ a perfect Htran,. Tjiis conduct prodi^ced an univer- sal tiUerin'j: amonrif (ho«e who obscu'vcd rny m-'uirjcr ; rnicinG: invseit' tlie s-ubicct oi' their laur,}>ler, 1 booked iiround to divine tiie cruise, wlien I fiiw lh«t eacdi individual, a.s he entered^ dipped his hnf^er into a basin of water, and crosfscd himself with it, fell on his knees, and repeatet) a prayer iii a niumbHng manner ; from this time, thou>2;h somewhat i^aJiinji; to my fcelinnsj i followed their example, and ever at- ter pasFied among them for a catholic. I rnif^c^'t relate muvcli of the peculiar charac- ter of this people, but it would be rjtcppm^:; be- yond the design oi' this work. Suffice it to say, they v.'cre extremely ignorant, know'inj[^ but little about ihcrnselvea, or God. Tbev went to their worship like saints, and acted likf* devib upon their retuiT:.. I hj,ive ovfizi knowr: •hern, to hold a vcr?due at the church doors after ^i^?^vice. on the holy Sabbath, hnd the priest him M : v. 1 inil Eng- in a soldier, jc'j witln the J use of his M'l required conformity igion. ]Mj e first time ?ct Htran,!iicK, 1 en- wont to do V rules and an nni ver- se rvcd my ct oi* their tlie cniiije, he entered J, water, and knees, and raanner ; iiing to my nd ever af- ar charac- cpping be- ffice it to I, knowini^ "•d. 'i'hey ! acted likf* ven knowfj doors after priest hirA I.C'E OF W. i\. lt(;ht<>n. 183 «;:J < self vtudd l)e a bidder. Sporting, eddlinp, dancing, kc. vrere their chiet' iJ»i:usemrats, af- ter the 3oiemnities of ihe Holy d^y. I could find no commoii sclioohi anioui:^ tliem, and noth- ing tliat indicated cither enterprise, or intelH- grnce, not one out of twenty could eitlier read or write. But, snys tlie uriinformed reader, how came they in thus i^it'iatir>!i ^ Why I will fceli you, it id ju.<^ lici'f . ll is the geriiu.s of po* pcrv to keep all ilf^ Muhicets as i^rnorant as thcv can. And Vvdiy : Boea.use, like its sister r^j- pOiismy it can only !!xist wijorc thi.^evil predom- inates ; theretore, ihey are 'leterjnined to keep Uiciv sub/jccts ignorant. Now s.'iouhi inlellip^cnce spread among them, they would soon cease to be, it woidd indeed, be the greatest cirrsc they could experience. This is too plam und evident, from the fact, that they will not allov/ tlieir subjects the proper use of iiu) Bible, but all must believe what their priests say, whom they believe, together with the pope to be infallible. How easy then to lead such a people astray ! A few words more and I Will delay the reader no longer, and that is, IGNORANCE is incompatible with the SPIBIT of LIBERTY, It is rank poison in the bowels of any nation professing republican- ism. As a free republic we are hound to c/fs- stntinair i.nticlligen'ce by every means withie. bur power, or we shall experience a deadly stab iipon the liberties of thi« nation. The proiop* Crisis I alls upon our ?u?entian, and bids us to foe awake u> our interest. T\\r- r.-iiglity tiood of I] .'31 ■1*1 i 1 \r 184 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 1-4 r r!! f ■ ,1 '*'i!i i; catholic emigration is threatening us with alarm, and the design of EUllOPE is not less to be dreaded. 'J'heir pretended philanthropy, in sending over their priests and money, "to in- struct," as they say, *'the ignorant Americans," are omens of a great and malignant evil. Their intentions are not to benefit us ; no, they would rather destroy us ; "and it is one of the appen- dages of the moral engine, destined to revolu- tionize the nation, and subjugate it to the con- trol of the triple crown. As confirmatory evi- dence to this, we will quote their own words, which they probably never intended should be brought to America ; but as we have them we will use them. They are taken from the An- nals of the Association for propagating the Ro- man Faith, a French periodical. Speaking of Popish schools, &.c. in the United States : — "These establishments do wonderful good. Catholics and Protestants are admitted indis- criminately. The latter, after having finished their education, return to the bosom of their families, full of esteem and veneration for their instructresses, (i. e. the nuns) and often, when they have no longer the opposition of their rel- atives to fear,they embrace the Catholic Foi^/i." This discloses the whole matter. They have come to happy America, to make Catholics of her sons and daughters ; to subject the nation to the dominion of the tyrants of Europe ; to bring down REPUBLICAJ^ banners ; to take away all human Hghts, and to sweep the last vestage of civil liberty from the American Continent .'" ith alarm, less to be iropy, in "to in- ericans," l^il. Their ey would le appen- revolu- ) the con- itory evi- n words, should be ! them we 1 the An- ? the Ko- daking of States : — 111 good, ted indis- g finished n of their 1 for their en, when their rel- Ic. Faith.'' ^ey have tholics of nation to to bring ake away t vestage ^inent /" LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 185 May every American who is a devoted friend to his country, awake ; and rise up in defence of his unalienable rights ; and may God pre- serve the liberty and happiness of our nation, and save us from all foreign invasion, and from the evils with which wcj as a people, are so alarmingly threatened ! But I forbear, and humbly beg pardon of the reader for digressing so far from the main subject. As an apology for so doing, I would say ; my own experience of the evil upon which I have treated, and my ardent desire for the general peace and happi- ness of the nation, are the feelings that have led me to this deviation. But to return to my nar- rative. The unsanctified conduct of this people, to- gether with my own indecision, brought me in- to a backsliding state, for, from first witnessing their unhallowed courses, I began to join them, until I became very rude, and wicked, and lost entirely my confidence and communion with the Lord. I soon became alarmed for my per- sonal safety, as I understood the farm on which I worked belonged to the Seminary of priests at Quebec ; some of whom came to visit tho family, and as some of the priests and students of the Seminary had visited the prison during my confinement, I was fearful of being recog« nized ; however, those who came were stran- §ers to me. 1 was also very fearful of being iscovered by my dress, as I still wore some or my prison clothes, which I was obliged to do from imperious necessity, not having any oth- I'M!, ''II ',1. I m ,!ili 186 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. .' ! .; :^\ 1t^: 'J4 era I could substitute. I wore a pair of gray woolen pantaloons, which were marked in ma- ny places, with the word *^ GAOL." in large letters, with white paint. However, previous to this, I had scraped off every letter with a knife, so that it would require considerable scrutiny to detect the mark ; and as soon as I could obtain command of some of my wages, I procured a pair of cheap tow-and-linen panta- loons, when, anxious to appear no longer in my prison garb, I retired into the woods, to put them on ; taking particular care, at the same time,to secrete the last article of a prison bads^e, which I did by burying them deep under the roots of a huge tree. Another circumstance tended also to per- plex and distress my mind : my employer had a son who lived at Quebec, who made frequent visits to the family. As he could speak the English language very fluantly, I was obliged to go into the room and talk with him for their gratification. A few days aflcr his departure from his first visit, he suddenly returned ; the knowledge of which filled me with the most gloomy apprehensions for my safety. The gen- tleman came to me, and told mo his son had brought some newspapers, and I must go in and read them. Indeed my fears were now ^wrought up to the highest pitch, and suspecting there was iniquity in the case, I was at a stand whether to obey him or run away ; but fearful of exciting suspicion, I obeyed his request, re- solving if betrayed, to do the best I could for 31V. LIFE OF W. B. LTGHTON. 187 air of gray ked in ma- ." in large r, previous tter with a onsiderable } soon as I \y wages, I men panta- nger in my •ds, to put it the same ison bads^e, under the Iso to per- ployer had ie frequent speak the 'as obliged m for their s departure jrned ; the h the most The gen- is son had must go in were now suspecting at a stand but fearful request, re- I could for my escape. Accordingly,! went into the house and read some to them, and was careful to ex- amine the papers thoroughly in order to see if I there was any advertisements ibr me ; but to ^^ iny satisfaction I discovered none. A few days after this, I attended church on the Sabbath and to my astonishment saw a gen- tleman in the crowd, who hjid been in prison for debt, and who of course was well acquain- ted with me. Without betraying my feelings, I hastened to escape from the place, and return- ed to my abode, devising means for my future escape from recognition. * The next Sabbath I was not intending to go to church, for fear of discovery ; but the family was so dissatisfied that they called me hard names, — said I was no better than a dog^ I was a healheriy &c. upon * I should have been glad to have left this place for the United States; but the peculiar circumstances in which 1 was placed, prevented me from doin^; it. I was almost entirely ignorant of tiie country, not knowing which way to pursue for safety, and to gain the United States. I was also fearful of exciting •u.<^picion, should I make inquiiy of the French, (for I had none others with whom I could talk.) Another difficulty, was, I could not cross the St. Lawrence, without exposing my life aa the river was some of the time full of floating ice. And to go by the city of Quebec, would probably have been attended with fatal consequences; as I might have been taken. I ther«« fore tliought it best lo remain where I was, (if I could do it with any degree of safety,) until my friend Doctor Moriu4 •hould visit me; when I intended to leave forthwith. As dan» gerouf fts my situation was, it probably was not so bad ai it would h«v« Men had I proceeded in my own way to make my Mcape* Indeed I firmly believe I was preserved by the over* ruling hand of Providence. The event that gave birth to m^ deliventncA, deserves to be attributed to the merciful Pro? i- dtnee of God; to whom I would ascribe ceaielese praisei. ^ get away i f.'JS ^1 would be useless; so that I submitted myself to my fate and went to bed , where I spent a rest- less and miserable night. But as I heard no more of their talk,my fears must have been groundless, and I of course became more calm and easy in my mind. To increase my alarm, the gentleman who was my employer, asked me one day if I was not a soldier; to which I made very strange and replied disdainfully, no! From these cir- cumstances I was powerfully convinced it would not do for me to stay much longer in that place. Therefore,! resolved to leave as soon as conveni- ent. However, I delayed a few days longer,until on Wednesday, as I was busily engaged in the woods chopping,one of the hired men came upon the fijll run towards me,saying in French," TAom- as^you must come homeythere is a gentleman wants to see youP'^ I answered, with great excitement of feeling who is it wants to see me? He repli- ed again, " a gentleman ; u'ho it is I canH /e//." I was so alarmed at this information that I tur- ned pale,and could hardly bear my own weight. The man seeing I was agitated, said, " it is the Doctor;'*'' but not understanding him, I thought he said the turnkey. This misunderstanding tended to increase my fears, till he repeated, more intelligibly and with deeper emphasis "tf is the Doctor who came here with you.^'* Upon this my countenance lighted up, my heart leap- ed with inward joy, and gratitude, and my fears banished, and with pleasure I went to meet my old friend at the place he had assigned, for he would not come on shore to the house, but % n I 190 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. si' ■;: -i ;n''' 'I spoke from the boat for fear, if I had been de- tected, it would lead to his apprehension. No one can know the happiness I felt on this occasion. It was like that which I felt on my escape from prison ; I viewed the arrival of my friend as an interferance of Divine Prov- idence, that would eventuate in my final deliv- erance. We both felt gratified at seeing each other, after six weeks absence, and having made the usual inquiries about our health, &.c. proceed- ed to state to each other, what we had experi- enced. The Doctor said he had followed down the St. Lawrence, about one hundred miles, and while practicing at one place, he was re- cognized as a run-away from prison, by an in- dividual who gave him suspicion of his inten- tion to apprehend him by his close inquiries. To pacify him, the Doctor said he promised to visit him in the morning; but instead of which,he hired a man to bring him up the river in a boat that night. He said that during his absence, he had been to Quebec to purchase a fresh stock of medicine, and that while engaged in trading, the jailor's wife came into the store, but as it was in the evening, by hiding his face and going out immediately, he escaped obser- vation. In calling at one of his old friends, he learnt that there was a mighty uproar in the city on the day we escaped, and that a large portion of the citizens went out to look at the window where we cot out. The next morning, in company with the Doc- id been de- ision. ss I felt on h I felt on the arrival •ivine Prov- final deliv- I :„., each other, g made the c. proceed- had experi- lowed down Ired miles, he was re- i, by an in- f his inten- 3 inquiries, promised to of which, he er in a boat tis absence, ise a fresh engaged in the store, ng his face iped obser- 1 friends, he roar in the lat a large look at the th the Doc- ili I; I r-, ;':i' I ''Mv m -if- £^.:ii:l LIFE OF \V. B. LIttHTON. 191 I u tor, I left the employ of my master, and sailed to the Island of Orleans, where he was imme- diately called for to attend a sick lady, and where he intended to stay for some time. It was his wish also, that I should stay with him. To do this I positively refused, as I was deter- mined to get to the United States as speedily as possible. Finding he could not prevail upon me to stay, the next morning he engaged two men to carry me across the St. Lawrence, to St. Thomas, a distance of about eight miles. The hour arrived for our departure, and the faithful Doctor, with his eyes filled with tears, pressed my lips with the kiss of true friendship; wished me peace and abundant prosperity through my life ; which blessing I returned in the most heartfelt manner, and thanked him for his ever memorable kindness. The scene now became the most solemn and interesting. We were now about to part forever, in this world ; our eyes gave vent to floods of tears, as we held and prest each other by the hand, as if un- willing to let go our hold, and bid farewell. At last he commended me to the mercy and Provi- dence of God, when we took our farewell leave of each other with affected hearts and weep- ing eyes. Never shall I forget that hour that gave additional proof of his sincerity and friendship. His was a friendship that was gen- uine, and indeed has rarely its parallel. '* Friendship ! mysterious cement of thesoal, Sweet'ner of life, and sold'rer of society, I owe thee much. Thou hast deaer\'ed from m« 18* if I ill ■J V. ■. m V I I '4 I «•■ 1^ 192 LIFK OF W. B. LKJUTOX. Fair, far lK»yoiul \vli;it I can ever pay: Oft littve I proved tlin labor of thy love, And tlie warm etforts of the gcnile lieart, Anxious to plcabc.** Before, however, I take leave of my friend, I cannot refrain from observing, that I regard him, as the instrument of Providence, in my deliverance from destitution and sufferinp. The singular circumstance that first united us; the surprising success we met with on tho night of our escape; together with his interpo- sition in my last situation, all conspire to show that he was the instrument of God's mercy in my behalf. The kindness he manifested to- wards me, through the whole of our acquain- tance, will ever make his name dear to my memory, and induce me so long as I live,t<> honor him with the sincerest gratitude. About noon I landed at St. Thomas, and from thence traveled up the river towards Que- bec, though on the opposite side. Fearful of discovery, I pursued my way very slowly, from necessity, as I was within eighteen miles of Quebec, and as I was intending to pass it in the night, I made a stop for some time in the woods by the road. When the evening ap- proached, I called at a house within nine miles of Quebec, and procured refreshment; after which, I prosecuted my journey. It now became dark, and every thing was hushed to rest; not a noise was heard; every thing wa^i calm and tranquil, which gave new delight to my feelings. At this still hour of night as I LIFK OF \V. n. LIGIITON. 193 nee, m my was pacing iiiy way in solitary silence, I sud- denly approoched a young female rorin,w!io was devoutly engaged on her kneed in prayer to the Father of mercics,at the foot of a cross by the side of the road;* which sight served to enkindle a glow of ardent gratitude and praise, and prayer to God that his blessing might attend my wandering steps through the night ; and bless me with a happy and safe de- liverance With a glad heart and light feet, I traveled until I came to a piece of woods, on a low swampy piece of land ; when 1 was greatly alarmed by an unaccountable sparkling, such as I had never seen before. It increased so rapidly, that I verily thought I was surrounded by fire; which I thought must be the effect of witchcraft, and I really supposed it was the work of the devil. As the sparks flitted close round me, I mustered up courage sufficient to try to catch one of them in my hand. After a few trials, I caught something, which on examination I found to be a bug, but in- stantly threw it away, fearing it was poisonous. I afterward learnt that what so alarmed mo was nothing but the fire-fly or lightning-bug. I arrived opposite to Quebec, about ten o'clock, where every thing appeared silent, and calm, except the waters of the river, which were smacking briskly against the sides of the vessels, as they lay at anchor; so that I * Se« paje 180. tij r it 'i/ilj ijl mi n i"i ii^^ B'j 1 I; ,'■ ill m.: 194 LIFE OF W. K. LIGHTON. fassed unmolested by the place of my fears, continued my journey all night, though I found it very unpleasant traveling, from the many furious and savage dogs, by which I was continually beset, that kept me sometimes in fear of my life. In the morning I found myself at aconsiderable distance from Quebec, and notwithstanding my fatigue, I traveled hard all day, without the least discouragement from fear of apprehension. After two days travel, 1 was informed by a gentleman, who spoke English, that I could gain the United States, and save myself much travel, by taking a new road, lately open- ed, and leading across the St. Nicholas. I ac- cordingly followed his direction, and about noon that day, called at a little log house for refreshment, which I found to be occupied by an Englishman, from Wakefield, near Leeds in Yorkshire. As I had been there a number of times, we entered into a very animated con- versation, about our homes, &c. In the midst of our interview, we were interrupted by a man who came in, and seeing me, asked me some questions, and then charged me with be- ing a run-away from a ship. I told him I was not a sailor. He then swore like an infi- del, thinking to make me own that I was, that he might gain a trifle by my apprehension. But I persisted in denying it, and at length he left me to pursue my journey. At night after passing through a piece of woods, thirteen miles in length, I came to a log cabin, where I Liri: OK W. B. LIGIITOIr religion, has since )f Christ.) ly troubio forsaken, I into tho li an over- e too great ► pray, tho ush me in se tempta- a remem- itained in given you; it shall be pray, if I ees, by the lout much )npU: tent, wao aftci vitation to alvation to ng forward I for prayers, None rose at first, though the tent was crowded with those who were still la their sins. At length I arose, and told the peo- ple that I was determined to get religion, if it was to be found. Upon this many more came forward, and we all joined in humble prayer to God, the Father of Spirits. Many found peace in their souls, and went away rejoicing. But, although I could not feel the clear evidence of my acceptance, I felt comforted, and left the spot convinced of the value and need of exper- imental religion, and was determined to possess it. On my way home, I considered well the determination 1 had formed, and resolved forth- with to put it into practice. I now began to live in the practice of christian duties, and to acquaint myself with the word of God. Not having much leisure to devote to study, I used to spend some time every night after nine o'clock, in reading the bible upon my knees, which pro- ved to be a very instructive and profitable em- ployment. To assist me in improving my mind, and a(^ ford me time for study, my friend Mr. B., kind- ly permitted me to lodge in his house, and have access to his library, where I used to study un- til midnight. As I increased in experience, my unbelief gave way, and at length I obtained a clear and undoubted evidence that God for Christ's sake, had blotted out my sins, and adop- ted me into his family. O ! bless the Lori If '' 202 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITOX. «ili conceiving the Methodist doctrines^ and uaages to be in strict accordance with the principles of the gospel, I offered inysclt'i and was received into the class at Waterford, on probation, by the Rev. Chauncey Richardson. As I continued to study the way of salvation, and to meditate on the state of a perishing world, I felt a burning desire to warn poor sin- ners to "flee from the wrath to come.'' To do this, I punctually attended every means ofgrace, tind to the best of my ability, prayed and ex- horted, as opportunity offered ; in doing which, my soul was blest and encouraged. I was providentially called at one time to visit an aged gentleman and lady, who were both very near the borders of the grave ; my labors with them were greatly blest, both to my soul and theirs. They were both awakened and led back to him from whom they had stray- ed. From these, and other circumstances, I was impressed with a conviction, that it was my duty to improve in public, but on considering my weakness and ignorance, I shrunk from the task ; nevertheless, my sincere desire was to know what was God's will concerning me, and that I was determined to do whatever it might be. In the month of February following, Mr. C. and myself parted by mutual agreement, and I left Waterford in search of new employment. By the Providence of God 1 was directed to Bradford, Vt. where I found employ for a while m the shop of Mr. Corliss. Presenting my certificate, I was received by the class in this f. LIFE OF W. B, LIGHTOJV. 203 j> id usages iciples of received >ation, by salvation, perishing poor sin- To do s ofgrace, i and ex- ng which, B time to ivho were rave ; my loth to my awakened had stray- stances, I it was my ^nsidering i from the re was to r me, and might be. g, Mr. C. ent, and I ployment. irected to or a while nting my ass in this place, the first Sabbath after my arrival. Here I enjoyed many blessed privileges among my Christian brethren, especially in the family who employed me, the heads of which were sincere and devoted disciples of Jesus Christ. Among other advantages, I had admission to the town library, as my master was librarian, and the books kept at his house. During my stay in this place, I was power- fully impressed again with the idea it was my duty to improve in public, and the more I re- sisted conviction, the more powerful it became. I accordingly made it a matter of fervent prayer to God ; having done this, I disclosed my feel- ings to those with whom 1 became most ac- quainted, who said they thought it was my du- ty to go forward. Still I felt unwilling to do BO, my talents were so small, though I knew that many able ministers of the gospel, whose talents now do honor to the church and them- selves, begun young and small as myself, but by a course of untiring study, and by the aid of grace divine, had risen to their present ce- lebrity and worth. Encouraged by these con- siderations, I divulged my feelings and views to the Rev. P. C. Richmond, who was preach- er in change, who also advised me to go for- ward and improve in exhortation, prayer, &c. He then furnished me with his written permis- sion to exercise as an exhorter, &c. I had now no excuse for refraining from du- ty, and accordingly appointed a meeting in the village on a week day evening. When the 19* I' i V I ^1 m 204 LIFE OF \V. B. LIGIITON. :i 9 I'm 3R. .1 day arrived on which I was to attend my ap- pointment, the clergyman of the congregational church called at the shop where I was at work, and after transacting his business with my em- ployer, turned to me and questioned me in a sarcastic manner about my preaching. He told me I had better attend some theological institution before I attempted to preach \ and said many other thin«is to discouruire me and prevent my going forward in duty. 1 was some- what staggered at finU, but after some little re- flection, determined to go forward, believing the grace of God in a warm heart to l)e a great- er assistance than all the learning of books and colleges, which however, I believe to be of great advantage, and important to a gospel minister. In the evening, with much trepidation, I en- tered the desk and spoke to a large and atten- tive congregation, from Mark x 17. *^Good Master, what shall I do, that I may inherit eter- nal life?" The Lord was present and blessed me abundantly, and from that time to the pres- ent, I have continued to labor in the vineyard of my blessed Redeemer as faithfully as I could. In the month of may, 1827, I left my situa- tion at Bradford, and on the 28th of the same month entered the employ of Mr. Stevens, on Sugar Hill, in the town of Lisbon, N. H. In this place I was in a mejisure deprived of the fellowship of my brethren, the Methodist, as there was no class within five miles. Howev- LIFE OF W. B. I.UaiTON. 205 my ap- gational it work, my em- mc in a He sological )h ; and me and as some- little re- )elieving a great- ooks and o be of gospel m, 1 cn- nd atten- f. "Good lerit eter- [ blessed the pres- vineyard illy as I my situa- the same ;evens, on [. H. In cd of the hodist, as Howev- er, I devoted myself to the duties which devol- ved upon me with the utmost punctuality, and having been admitted to full membership by the church at Lisbon, and had my commission, as an exhorter renewed, I went forward proclaim- ing the Lamb of God to all who came in my way. To increase my qualifications 1 applied myself to a systematic course of living, attend- ing my employ during my working hours with as much strictness as if 1 had been watched over by a task-master, and devoting every leis- ure moment I possessed to the improvement of my mind by study. To as-^ist me I procured a copy of Dr. A. Clarke's invaluable commenta- ry, together with some other theological works from which I derived much valuable instruc- tion. I was also very reserved in my manner, so much so that doubtless I have given some oc- casion to think that I was scornful, but I can truly say, I was actuated by no other motive than a desire to prevent myself being led away by the example and conversation of the ungod- ly, by whom I was surrounded. This was doubly necessary from the fact that Mr. S. sold spirituous liquors, which drew into his shop ma- ny a wicked and profane man, who, when the fumes of their drams had filled their brains, would talk over their grog-shop divinity until I became disgusted with their conversation and manners. How often hare I heard the debased drunkard, though poor and almost penmjless^ talk in his drunken hours as though he were a 206 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. II i it. ^ wealthy citizeny a profound statesman or a devoted christian! What n miserable picture of de- pravity does a drunkard present! O, DRUNK ARD ! if this should meet your eye, pause and reflect ; consider that by drunkenness you low- er yourself beneath the poor brute, whose labor furnishes you with the means of indulging your appetite. Think that you are murdering your poor soul, and ruinitig your family, if you have not done it already. Let conscience speak, and as she speaks, give car, and turn your feet into the right way, and thou shalt save thy blood- bought soul from liell. O! may the happy day soon arrive when this " liquid Jire,^^ this " dis- tilled damnalionj^^ (for it deserves no better name) shall be banished into the oblivious deep, from whence may it never more return to intox- icate the brains of men ! As I was thus beset by profane characters, I could not refrain from administering a word of reproof sometimes, for which I often received additional vollies of oaths and imprecations, though ultimately it prevented some from swear- ing in my presence.* Added to this, I was persecuted by some be- cause I studied, which in their view, was in- consistent with the character of a minister of m *" It chills my blood to hear the bleat Supreme Rudely appealM to on each trifling theme. Maintain your rank, vulgarity despise; To stoear is neither hravey polite^ nor wise. You would not swear upon a bed of death : Reflect! your Maker noto could stop yoiu' breath." LIFE OF \V. D. LIGIITON. 207 a devoted of c/c- RUNK ausc and you low- )se labor ing your ing your ^ou have speak, your feet ly blood- ppy day ats- as u o better oils deepy to intox- racters, I word of received ecations, m swear- some be- r, was in- lister of ith. it the gospel, who, they thought ought to preach entire lij by inspiration. It was reported that I had a large amount of prayer and sermon books, from which 1 committed to memory all my public improvements. This weak and fool- ish report soon net with the fate it deserved. But though I was deprived of fellowship (ex- cept occasionally)with the members of my own church, I enjoyed many privileges among my Frec-Will-Baptist brethren, who appeared to treat me with every mark of brotherly Iove,and whose affection I shall ever remember. But this love and affection at length became cold, as evidently appeared in a great many from their apparent disfellowship toward me, from what cause I knew not, unless it was they be- lieved the false reports my enemies had circula- ted respecting my having prayer and semicni books, from which 1 learned all my public im- provements. Any other cause 1 never was sensible of, as on the strictest investigation of my actions, I could discover nothing 1 had said or done which could be a just cause of offence. These circumstances became a very serious trial to me ; they disquieted my mind ; robbed me in a great measure of my happy enjoyments, and sometimes almost led me to believe there was no religion ; and while under them led me to desire to change my situation, and enter the married state, for I felt alone and solitary. Amid the thousands who surrounded me, I had no one into whose breast I could pour my woes and from whose sympathy I could derive en- I. t f'At I. vt 208 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. #■■: couragement, or with whom I could claim kin- dred. With the poet I could say : «»TKore are no friends nor fatliers hero, Nor spouses kind to smile on me ; A brother's voice I cannot hear, A mother's form I never see ; A sister's love I may not share, While here in exile still I roam; O could I breathe my native air. Beneath that dear ancestral dome, I'd rest content, 'Till life was spent. Nor seek abroad a better home." I also wrote again to my parents, stating to them my feelings and prospects, and expostula- ting with them for their neglect, as I supposed they had received my former letters, and from being offended with me, refused to answer my epistles. This however, appeared ultimately not to be the case, as the reader will hereafter learn. During the passage of my letter I continued to improve my gift and to get acquainted more extensively with the families around me. Among these families was that of Mr. N. Judd, who, though they were ranked among the medi- ocrity of the honest and industrious, were rich in faith and in the knowledge of divine things. My first acquaintance with this family was . in the month of August, 18^7, and in the month of April following, I was united in the bands of matrimony, with Susannah, their daughter. A few weeks previous to my marriage I was informed by a gentleman that there was a letter for me in the Fost Office, and he concluded LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 209 aim kin- tdting to xpostula- supposed Eind from iswer my iltimately hereafter continued ited more >und me. N. Judd, the medi- /ere rich le things. \y was . in he month the bands [laughter. Lge I was LS a letter oncluded from the superscription, as it was directed to North America, that it was from England. I nastened to obtain it when it proved to be from my father, and as it may tend to give the read- er an idea of his feelings I will insert it. Frampton, Dec. 1st, 1827. My Dear Son : I received your letter, dated October 6th, 1827, and am very much surprised that you have not received any letter from me, which is the cause of your most unhappy com- plaint. I have received many letters from you, to which I have immediately sent answers. Your information that you have not received any since you left the Isle of Wight gives me but poor satisfaction. The cause of these fail- ures, is no doubt, owing to the great distance which separates us from each other,and my let- ters have probably been lost on the way. Dear Son, your request has been gratified, in that I have attentively perused your letter, and in the first place, I commend you to God, and pray earnestly that he may be your guide, protector, and redeemer ; that you may honor and fear him all your life ; be a useful and dig- nified member of society ; and eventually, that we may all meet in Heaven, where nothing shall separate us from that union and felicity . which has been purchased for us by our blessed Redeemer. Let me also afliectionately advise you, as you have escaped your unpleasant condition and situation for one of a more social and endear- I l you ir- rayer of, er, TON. all influ- i the coii- I's good- [iie 1 had jars. The f welfare )f sorrow. 5 blessing 5 commu- d nothing the most {/.m:;-. \^h M I? fr . .1 ' 1 H W.i: f " -1 i|f;: f lii:-' LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 211 !^ My term of hire having expired, I went to live with my wife's father, according to a pre- vious agreement ; and as he was advanced in life, and infirm in body, I took the farm, and agreed to support them through life ; in addi- tion to which, I received ninety-six dollars a year from my father-in-law, granted to him by government, for a reward of his services during the revolution. In this situation, we lived in the most harmonious and happy manner; a perfect con- trast to the misery of my former days. Then, I was the subject of the most inexpressible hardships, doomed to bear the frowns of tyrants and the insults of cruel masters. Now, thanks to a merciful Providence, I was free from my enemies, had a happy home, and enjoyed the best of all earthly comforts, a pious and godly companion, who was as dear to me as my own soul. Added to this, I was amid friends,whose generous kindness will ever endear them to my memory; among neighbors who had a high regard for the things of God, and whose hearts were touched with a Saviour's love. These were blessings once foreign to my expectations, but now enjoyed in fond reality. O, what shall I render to God for all his goodness to- wards me. ** I'll praise liim while he lends me breathi And when my voice is lost in death, Praise shall employ my nobler powers: Mv days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life, and thought, and being last, Or immortality endures. " I j i 212 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. A few months after I wrote my answer to my father's first letter, I received the following from him, which I beg leave to insert, as it breathes so much of the spirit of affection and love.''^ Framplon Eiig. Oct, 15, 1828. Dear Son : Your kind letter was received with great pleasure, and O! what inexpressi- ble joy I have had in perusing it, to find that your receive my letters at last, after the num- bers I have sep*^ these seven years. It affords me much happiness to find you are enjoying good health, and also that you are married ; but above all it fills my soul with the greatest pos- sible satisfaction to hear that you love your God and Saviour, and feel a deep interest for his glo- ry, 0,may the Lord bless and preserve you unto his holy kingdom. As I am somewhat confi- dent you will receive this letter, I shall briefly state some things you no doubt will be glad to hear. I still live on the farm I did when you left me — have purchased the house and land ajoining. I also carry on the business of Coal- merchant. I have one yard at Wyberton, and one at Boston ; but I find it rather dificult to carry on business this year, owing to the dis- tressing state of things. I should like to accept your invitation ♦ It is with much regret, that I am not able to give my let- ters with those of my father's. I was not aware they would ever be needed; consequently was not careful to retain the cop- ies; and am th-'refore, only able to give a few of his. LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 213 and emigrate to America, but my homey my native Isle has a charm, almost too powerful to admit of a seperaton, in this my advanced stage of life. As yet, I know not how I shall act. I am not able to determine, at present, so as to give you a satisfactory answer, but return you my sincere thanks for your tenderness towards me. England,! think, is reducing very fast, Banks are failing in many parts of the country, in consequence of which, and the drouth of 1826, many respectable farmers are reduced to a state of beggary, and the country presents but a dis- mal scene of wretchedness. Dear Son : I wish you would write often, and give me every account of America you can, as I am anxious to hear. Let me know how you are situated, and how far you are from Boston, New York, and Philadelphia. In closing this, I commend you to Almighty God, who alone is able to watch over and bring you to his kingdom. O, may he bless and en- lighten you as to your duty, that you may live a devoted and useful life. We are all well, and all join in giving our love to you, and your dear wife and her relatives,praying if we should nevei* meet each other on earth, we may be so unspeakably happy as to meet in heaven, to re- ceive a crown of glory, where we may mingle our friendly souls in praising God forever, through Jesus Christ. I am, dear son, your very affectionate father, WM. LIGHTON. 20* •it M. . I » ■. i : M, 214 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. Having attended to improve my talent as an exhorter for about two years, — with the advice of my brethren, I at length obtained license to preach, as a local preacher, at a quarterly meeting conference, holden at Lisbon, April 25th, 1829, signed in behalf of the conference, by the Rev. John Lord, Presiding Elder From this renewal of my commission, I felt the solemn importance of honoring it to the glory of God. O, may he forbid that I should be slack in warnmg the w-icked *' to flee the wrath to come !" Save me, O Lord from every prin- ciple of error, from the love of the world, and every thing else that cannot bear to be tested by thy holy word, and by the things of eternity. After receiving my license as a preacher, I wrote to my parents, in which I acquainted them with my calling, as a gospel minister, &c. The following is their answer, which I received in the month of December, following : Frampiorij near Boston, Aug. 8, 1829. Dearly Beloved Son : I began to think the time long since I received a letter from you ; but the time has arrived in which I have receiv- ed yours : it came to hand Aug. 7th, 1829. Nothing gives me more satisfaction than to hear from you ; believe me my son, when I say it is a happiness I enjoy above every other pleas- ure of the world. Yes, thank God, I can now retire to my closet, and hold converse with my dutiful son, while I read your epistle, O, what a delightful hour ! How much I am obligated LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITOIS. 215 it as an \ advice :ense to Liarterly I, April ference, Elder : felt the le glory lould be le wrath iry prin- arld, and e tested eternity, sacher, I iquainted ister, &c. received , 1829. think the )m you ; /e receiv- th, 1829. an to hear I say it her pleas- L can now with my O, what obligated to praise the Lord who has permitted me to see this moment. The pleasure I have received from perusing your kind letter, has animated and filled my soul with such exquisite happi- ness, as words cannot express. And why all this joy and gratitude ? but because I have rea- son to believe my long lost son is found ; that you love God and the way of life and salvation; but above all, that you are favored, by God's blessing and mercy, the privilege of preaching the gospel of the Son of God. O, this is too much for a father to bear ! So thoughtless was you about your soul before, and so regardless of friendly advice, and leaving the bosom of friends and home, as you did, who can help re- joicing ? Ah ! who could ever thought of such a change ? Truly, " with God all things are possible." With this feeling of soul, I eagerly clasp my pen to communicate with you, in the form of a letter, and hasten to lose no time in so pleasing an employ. I have much to say by way of en- couragement to you, but I cannot express my- self. Let me advise you to be humble ; abstain from every thing that does not bear the impress of that blessed gospel you profess to preach. Live near to God, and then I have no fears concerning your prosperity and usefulness. I shall now commence giving you a summa- ry of the unhappy state of your native land, which I have no doubt you will be anxious to know. England is indeed in a suffering situa- tion, so much so, that I cannot help contrasting: 216 LIFE OF VV. B. LIGIITOIV. -\ -I j(' ' her onco happy state to her present deplorable wretchedness. She once enjoyed more pleas- ure than any Kingdom in Europe, and was the garden of the universe, the place ofeivilizaticn and arts, whose manufacturies would allow no rival, and whose ships spread their sails over the whole four quarters of the globe. Her tcealih was stupendous J and her people happy. The peasantry of England, who were once the glory and pride of the nation, are now sunk into the lowest state of poverty ; they are indeed the most miserable of men ; they are turned into ' paupers and beggars. By what } By the in- supportable and heavy weight of TAXATION. Their hearts have sunk under the oppressive burden, that they are no more, and will be no more,except some speedy remedy is on foot. So oppressive is the present state of things that there has been more burglaries and rob- beries committed than ever man remembered, which arises chiefly from TAXATION, that ^^ dead weight.^^ The farmers are paying high rents, and parish rates become so high that they can scarce be said to live. England can never prosper, as it has done, so long as taxa- tionsLiid PAUPERISM prevails in the land. Other countries have got its mode of manufac- turing, and are in consequence thereof, less burdened with that destructively " dead weight," so that they can bring their goods to England and have a renumerative profit. Such my son, is the deplorable situation of the unhappy En- glisman. As for my part, I am in a prosperous ll LIFE OF W. U- LIGHTON. 217 rable il cas- ts the nation ow no 3 over tcealth The I glory ito the ;d the d into he in- noN. ressive be no 1 foot, things d rob- ibered, N, that ig high rh that nd can IS taxtt' Q land, anufac- lof, less England ny son, ipy En- sperous situation, for which I thank God ; but I feel for the laborer, his situation is so extremely critical that it claims the sympathy of every christian and philanthropist. We are paying about two hundred pounds per cent TAXA- TION, and the inlerest of the national debt is about one pound five shillings per second, (or ^5y55.) This, my dear son, is bad news of our country. May the Lord save us from the dreadful evils which threaten us ! But I must close after acquainting you with the state of the family. We are all enjoying good health, which to me is a blessing I cannot be too thankful for. I wish you, and all yours, may be enjoying the same good. Your broth- ers and sisiers respect you as very dear to them, and hope you will accept their humble tribute, which is their undivided love. Present also, the same endearing sentiment to your dear com- panion, whom they respect as their worthy and beloved sister. Also accept our love and make it acceptable to our daughter ( your wife) and every member of your family. Mr. and Mrs. B send you their kind respects. The wor- thy and respected John Y , Esq. has gone the way of all the earth. He died on the 8th of May last, after a severe illness. He was beloved in his life, and lamented in his death, by all his parishoners, and I believe has gone to live with him who is King of kings and Lord of lords. Please write immediately And now may the God of peace be with you, 218 LIFE OP W, B. LIGHTON. P ]: ,'r. I and remain with you, and keep you from all danger through Jesus Christ our Lord. I remain your most afl^ectionate father, WM. LIGHTON. The contents of this letter filled me with the highest concern for the general happiness of my father, and his family, that I wrote him an impressive letter, addressing him upon the sub« ject of emigrating to this country, and urged him most vehemently not to delay, but to pro- ceed forthwith as soon as convenient. One of his letters in answer to this subject is as fol- lows : — Frampton, Oct Slaty 1831. My Dear Son : I received your most grate- ful and intelligent letter, dated July 10th, and am truly enamored with your simplicity and kind treatment. It breathes a sincerity, too powerful to be doubted, that fills me with true parental affection, and sincere respect to a lov- ing and dutiful son, now in a transmarine stata * # # # * # # I receive your kind invitation with warm emotion, and should like to come to America, to pass the rest of my life with you in your FREE REPUBLICAN country ,where peace and retirement alone can be found, to refresh and relieve the sons of suffering oppression. But my son, the thought of leaving home, and friends,to traverse the ocean,in quest of a more free country, at this age of my^ life, might be probably an imprudent step. I know not what LIFi: OF VV. D. LIGinON. 219 n all ather, )N. hthe ss of m an ; sub- urged o pro- )ne of as fol- 831. ; grate- th, and ty and ty, too ith true > a lov- e state. # 1 warm merica, m your e peace refresh iression. me, and ' a more light be lot what to say any further upon the subject, but would give you my hearty thanks, for your kind invi- tation, and pray the Lord he may, by his divine influence, bring us to heaven, where waves and billows shall no more rise between us, to ob- struct us from the enjoyment of our beloved fraternity. # # # « # # # Your most affectionate father, WM. LIGHTON. Finding my letter did not have its desired effect, except that it put him to thinking upon the subject, I wrote again upon the same sub- jecty and received the following : Frampton Sept. 2d, 1833. Affectionate Son : Through the biessing of God, we received your important communi- cation, dated April 24th, 1833. Your argu- ment for me to come over to you, is very strong and sincere, but I cannot at present, determine so as to give you any decisive satisfaction about the subject. Yet, let nr^e tell you, my dear son, the ties of parental affection are so strong as almost, at times, to induce me to re- solve upon the undertaking. I should be very happy to see you all, and to enjoy sweet solace, and end my days in your free and happy coun- try, and in the bosom of an affectionate and grateful son, but the distance seems too iar, and the journey accompanied with a degree of mental anxiety and danger, which are the only difficulties which seem to prevent that happy 220 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. ill meeting, which would be accompanied with all the feelings of a true philanthropist. # * # * Our country is progressing in oppression and wretchedness, which almost induces me to be- lieve its fate is fixed. The reform bill has prov- ed a dead letter, at least at present ; and in consequence of this failure, the people have turned a deaf ear to all the plans of reforma- tion. What will be the consequence I know not, but 1 fear it will result in a bloody contest. May the Lord have mercy upon us, and deliver us from the evil. We are all in sentiment as usual, and enjoying good health. Accept our love and best wishes. Write at every oppor- tunity. And may the propitious smiles of our heavenly Father attend you, and your beloved family forever, which is the prayer of Dear Son, your most affectionate and honored father, WM. LIGHTON. About the time I wrote to my father last, I suffered by an unfortunate circumstance, and lost the greater part of my property. It might be well to give some minute particulars,relative to the circumstance. I had lived in my mar- ried state between five and six years, in the most happy and contented manner, during which time, we were blest with three children, a son and two daughters. As I was located where my trade was of but little service, and feeling disposed to devote myself more exclu LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 221 h all nand ) be- prov- nd in have brma- know jntest. leliver ent as jpt our oppor- of our »eloved nd ON. ler last, ce, and it might relative ny mar- 3, in the during children, located dee, and e exclu sively to it, I concluded to sell my farm, and establish myself where it would be of value. I succeeded in selling my place to a Mr. M'Bain Jameson, who had ever been one of the most upright of men, and having no apprehension of his dishonesty, I confidently reposed my property in his hands, without any other securi- ty than his notes. Knowing he had obtained the command of my farm, he vras influenced by some poor, miserable, and notorious wretches, to sell it and leave the country. He did so, and in consequence, out of seven hundred dol- lars, the price of my farm, I lost five hundred and twenty-five. He proceeded with his family to the West, where, for aught I know, he is at present. This unfortunate circumstance threw me into deep trouble, and was like a cloud over my mind, darkening my prospects. However, by the grace of God,I was able to pursue a course, which tended to promote my welfare in every respect. Although I was somewhat involved, I can say, to the honor of my creditors, they never injured so much as a hair of my head. Truly, the Lord is merciful and good, in that he overrules every thing for my peace. I do truly pity the man who was the cause of my misfortune, and those who influenced him, for, with all their gain, I am better oflf than they, for I possess a conscience clear from guilt. My prayer to God is, that they may repent of the evil they have done, and be saved. 21 222 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 1'^ ■; ■ 1 In the 'ensuing fall, I hired a house in the town of Landaff, about five miles from my for* mer residence, where, by the smiles of a kind and indulgent Providence,! have been blessed| far beyond my expectations, with food and rai* ment, and what is better than all, with spiritual prosperity. Truly, my trouble has been sancti- fied : I have been taught the fallacy of earthly goods, and led to trust in him who is a well spring of life, and whose resources can never fail. Thus, dear reader, I have presented you with a plain, unvarnished detail of the events of my life, hoping, that if you are still the subject of parental government, or in a state of nonage, you will be careful how you treat lightly the ad- vice of your parents. Let all my difficulties, act as beacons to you. O, beware of folly ! " Shun every appearance of evil." Give your heart to God. '' In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths." Pov. iii.6. I rejoice that I am permitted to close this narrative on my birth-day ! Thirty years have rolled over my head ! They are gone forever ! 0,what wondersGod has wrought for me,through these thirty years of my life. I have had my lot of sufferings, and difficulties, from the hands of wicked and unfeeling men. I have felt their frowns and their wrath ; but God has interpos- ed, rescued, and saved me from my impend- ing fate, and brought me to a land of liberty and peace ; and has given me affectionate and dear friends. Truly God has been my refuge, a LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 223 present help in time of trouble ; and unworthy as I am, I will trust in him evermore. It will not be long before I shall sleep the sleep of death. O, that I may have my Saviour IQ my heart, and that my God may sustain me in a dying hour ; and grant me a triumphant resurrection to a glorious immortality. O, may ly while I live on the earth, live to the glory of my blessed Master. May I ever be dutiful, and labor for the salvation of precious, immor- tal souls. May the Lord " so teach me to num- ber my days that I may apply my heart unto wisdom." "A i*^ "^ more Reeling years, and what a change i^ hat new scenes will break in upon our raviriiied vision ! If I live, I shall see changes ! When I die — and die I must, I shall see as I am seen,and know as I am known, by the inhabitants of a world of Spirits : and O, what a change ! to be an inhabitant of a world of Spirits I" " Thoo must expire, my soul» ordain'd to range Through unexperiencM scenes, and mystVies strange: Dark the event, and dismal the exchange. But when compelPd to leave this House of clay. And to an unknown somewhere, wing thy way; When time shall be eternity, and thou Shalt be, tliou know'st not what, nor where, nor how» Trembling and pale, what wilt thou see or dol Amazing state! — No wonder that we dread The thoughts of death, or faces of the dead: His black retinue, sorely strikes our mind ; Sickness and pain before, and darkness all behind. Some courteous ghost, the secret then reveal; Tell US what yoti have felt, and we must feel. You warn us of approaching deatli, and why 224 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. Will you not teach iis what it i3 to die] But having shot tlie gulph, you love to view tiuuceeding spirits, plunged along like you; Nor lend a frichdly hund to guide them through. When dire disease shall cut, or age untie The knot of life, and suiTer us to die; When after some delay, sonic trembling strife, The sonl stands quiv'ring on the ridge of lite; With Fear and hope she throbs, then curious tries Some strange hereafter, and some hidden skie8."-iVbrriff. " But O, if I am prepared for such a change, how delightful it will be to awake from death-— to be immortal, and live forever ; — to be among immortals — to renew those associations with dear relatives and friends, which have been suspended for a season. I can carry no tidings thither, for the affairs of this word are known to disembodied spirits. I can look around me for relatives and friends, and those refined principles of the soul, of love and joy, will there be renewed, and enjoyed forever. O, happy, happy region of boundless bliss ! There will be no changing then of time : it will be eternity. O, E-T-E-R-N-I-T-Y ! that dread- ful pleasing thought ! I shall be immortal ! But shall I possess a crown of life ? Here rests the awful pause ! A crown of life ! My God, O, thou eternal and everlasting Father ; hear thou a sinner's prayer ; lead me by thy good spirit, and so sustain me in my course, that I may find my all in thee, both in time and in eternity." And now, before I conclude, let me ask the reader, what arc thy prospects beyond the grave ? O ! what are thy hopes? Hast thou LIFE OF W. B. LIGirrON. 225 rorrtf. ange, iath— to be iations have ny no jrd are n look I those U joy, ver. O, ! There will be t dread- [nortal ! Here / My ^'ather ; J by thy course, ime and aak the >nd the ist thou a well grounded hope of a blessed immortality, and that all is well between thee and thy Ma- ker ; or art thou still in thy sins, an enemy to God by wicked works ? If thou art, is it not high time for thee to bethink thyself on thy condition,and prepare thyself for the great event of thy life. Think, O think, how soon thou wilt have to lenve this short, transitory scene of existence ! A few years, at the fartherist, and then all will be over with thee here, and then thou must appear a naked, unembodicd spirit, at the awful bar of the august Majesty of heaven, to answer for thy conduct. O, let me urge thee to fly to Christ ; he is thy only Saviour and sure friend. Have faith in his merits. — Be deeply humble. — Live in view of Eternity, and in the solemn consequences of that vast and trying scene. Remember that if you neglect to walk in the commands of God you will be damned forever. -Be wise, nor make Heaven's highest blessing vengeance; O be wise! Nor make a curse of immortality ! Say, knowest thou what it is, or what thou art ; Knowest thou the importance of a soul immortaH Behold tliis midnight glory : worlds on worlds! Amazing pomp; redouble this amaze ! Ton thousand add ; add twice ten thousand more ; Then weigh die whole ; one soul outweighs tliem all» And calls ihe astonishing magnificence Of unintelligent creation poor.' Let thy soul bathe itself in the blessed Sa- ▼iour, 21* 226 LIFE OF W. B. LIGUTON. ** Sink into the purple flood, Rise to all the life of God." S. jek and retain his sacred image in thy hearty and live on him by holy, conquering, irresista- ble faith ; and so shall thou be saved in heav- en. Let me advise thee to a constant and prayer- ful perusal of the holy Scriptures, — acquaint thyself with them as thou wouldst thy chart^ wast thou lost, and exposed to perilous dangers on the boisterous deep. Remember the Bible is the star of eternity, a chart, to guide thy frail bark into the haven of eternal rest. Make it the constant book of thy life. ' iVIost wondrous book ! bright candle of the Lord! Star of eternity! the only etar By which the bark of man could navigate The sea of life, and gain the coast of bliss Securely ; only star which rose on time. And, on its dark and troubled billows, still As generation threw a ray Of Heaven's own light, and to the hills of God, The everlasting hills, pointed the Sinner's eye ! With holy faith and prayer, Read God's Word once, and you can read no more; For all books else appear so mean, so poor; Verse will seem prose; but still persist to read. And God's Word will be all the books you ueed.' Never lay it aside because thou ha^c read it over and over, or because it may not be alto- gether so congenial with thy natural views and feelings ; but persist in thy acquaintance with it, with sincere prayer to God that thou mayest fully understand it aright. illC LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 227 The Holy Scriptures are of indispensible use to thee, as they teach thee every thing relative to thy salvation, and of thy duty while a probationer here below. Let the dear read- er therefore, *