I was born in the town of Rye,* once a part of Portsmouth, N. H. September 30th, 1765, within one hundred rods of the Atlantic ocean. I was the second son and fourth child of my parents. My brothers were Thomas, older than myself, Samuel, George and John; the last died in infancy. My sisters were Martha, Elizabeth, Mary, Susan, Abagail, Marcy, Sarah and another who died in infancy. At an early age my life began to be marked by misfortunes and dangers. When I was less than three years of age I fell into a spring, and was to appearance drowned. A sister one year and a half older than myself, gave the alarm. I was taken out, and the Almighty was pleased to resuscitate me. Having reached the age of seven years, my father placed me with Mr. John Cate, of Londonderry, forty miles from Portsmouth. His wife was my father's youngest sister. I lived more than four years in this family, without having seen any member of my father's family. Here I began to feel the sorrows of life. I frequently mourned deeply over my separation from my father, mother, brothers and sisters. I had no playmate. When childish vanity or frowardness received correction, I frequently felt myself friendless, and sometimes thought that I was chastised when I did not deserve it, and that if my parents were acquainted with my sufferings, they would surely take me home with them. Children certainly enjoy a very great blessing, who in childhood are permitted to remain under the care of parents. When I was eight or nine years old, an ancient Irish Presbyterian lady, by the name of Bell came to reside in my uncle's family. She had experienced religion before her removal from Ireland.She had been distinguished for her piety during the course of a long life, having now reached the age of ninety. She was the first woman whom I had ever heard pray. She had been a cripple from her youth, -was never married, and at this time I believe subsisted on the charity of her friends.. Families whose means would allow it, seemed to account it an honor to have Mrs. Bell for a guest. She paid especial attention to

As Rye was once a part of Portsmouth, I have generally hailed from that place.

the youth and children of those families in which she resided, taught them to read, instructed them in the catechism, stored their memories with hymns, and often conversed with them on the subject of religion. I recollect to have heard her speak of an extraordinary reformation which took place in Ireland during her childhood. She stated that a number of very young children were converted, some of whom at an early period, left the world in an extacy of joy, with strong confidence in the prospect of dwelling with the Saviour. When Mrs. Bell entered my uncle's family, I had but little opportunity for reading; she, however instructed me in the catechism, and I, under her direction, learned a number of hymns, most of which I recollect to this day.

One Sabbath afternoon, while this lady was employed in catechising the children of the family, my mind became agitated in an unusual manner. I wished to retire, but feared to make the attempt, lest I should be ordered to remain in the room; at the same time I concluded I should cry aloud if I remained. I was awed with

a sense of the presence of GOD, but could find no cause for my strange confusion of mind. At length I hastily made for the door and retired without molestation. It gave me a momentary relief to escape from the house unmolested. I fled to the barn, imagining that my feet scarcely touched the ground, and falling on my knees in one corner, I, for the first time attempted to pray.

To all this, except weeping when I first left the house, I seemed to be involuntarily impelled. The conflict of feeling subsided, my mind became tranquil, and for some days or weeks, I felt an unusuul degree of solemnity. I have no recollection that Mrs. Bell ever made any inquiries respecting the state of my mind, yet she was indefatigable in giving me good counsel.

During fifty-six years which passed away since that event, I have reflected on it perhaps a thousand times, but have never been able satisfactorily to assign a cause for my feelings on that Sabbath. I am not aware that I founded any hopes of salvation on those impressions. From that time forward, however, when I thought of God, my mind was filled with awe, and I often dread

pe

ed to sin against him. Still I was not aware, at this riod, of the fountain of iniquity which existed within my heart. From that period I occasionally prayed; sometimes felt my affections considerably excited, especially when thinking of home. I am now persuaded that I had no small degree of Pharisaic pride about me. I was however but a child, and much, very much needed an instructer.

I must now call the attention of the reader to circumstances of a different kind, and wish that he with myself may keep the providence of GoD in view. The celebrated Stamp Act passed the British Parliament in 1765, the year of my birth. That act excited a general alarm among the American Colonists. Resolutions were passed against the act by most of the colonial assemblies. I had breathed but a few days when ten of the colonies, by their representatives, formed a Colonial Congress in the City of New-York, in October, 1765.

I was about nine years of age when Gen. Gage, with a land and naval force, took possession of Boston, which has been termed the "cradle of American independence." The seizure of Boston exasperated the feelings of the colonists in every section of our country. I distinctly recollect the period when the farmers of Londonderry could scarcely settle themselves to their work.. They felt that their rights were invaded. Many persons of talent or influence were friendly to the measures pursued by the British parliament; they were termed "Tories." Another class, which remonstrated against those measures, received the name of "Whigs.' My uncle with whom I resided was a decided Whig. Having formed acquaintances in Boston, where he had served his time at the cabinet-maker's business, he felt a deep interest in the events which occurred there. He took the news-papers; (there were comparatively few published at that day,) his neighbours assembled about him, and the fire-side conversation turned on the rights of the people, the injustice of parliament, the detection of Tories, &c. The conflicts at Lexington and Bunker's hill, and the burning of Charleston, roused the Irish "Yankies" of Londonderry. The young men posted off to the bat

tle ground, prompted by their sires, who followed them with their horses laden with provisions. My ears were open to all the passing news. I wished myself old enough to take an active part in this contest. Little did I realize at that time the horrors of war. I had not yet

heard the clash of arms, the groans of the dying, and the shouts of the victors. Nor did I imagine at this period, when I so much abhorred swearing, that the time would arrive when I should become a profane sailor. What is man? "At his best estate he is altogether vanity."

In Londonderry the influence of Doct. Matthew Thornton, one of the signers of the declaration of independence, was exerted with great effect, on the side of liberty.When I was about eleven years of age, my uncle removed from Londonderry to Epsom. Here another distinguished patriot had resided, Capt. Mc'Leary. fell with General Warren, on Bunker's Hill. I recollect the four following lines of a dirge, commemorative of the deaths of Warren and Mc'Leary, and their companions.

"My trembling hands and aching heart,

O how it throbs this day;
Their loss is felt in every part

Of North America."

He

These lines indicate the spirit of the times, rather than the poetic talent of their author. A martial spirit was diffused through the little circle of my acquaintances.As the men were frequently called together for military discipline, their example was not lost upon the boys.Lads from seven years old and upwards, were formed into companies, and being properly officered, armed with wooden guns and adorned with plumes, they would go through the manual exercise with as much regularity as the men. If two or three boys met, their martial ardor showed itself in exercising with sticks instead of muskets. Many a bitter sigh and broken heart, however, testified in the end the result of this military excitement.

Parents saw with pain their sons advancing from childhood to youth. My reader can but faintly imagine the feelings of an aged father, or an affectionate mother, perhaps a widow, when news arrived that a son had fal

len in the field of battle, or had languished and died in a hospital, or still remained a prisoner in the hands of a foe, whose tender mercies were cruel. Danger however did not deter our young men from pressing forward to the battle ground, or sailing to meet the foe upon the

ocean.

I turn to myself. While residing in Epsom, on a Sabbath I went to a meeting in Chichester, accompanied by a number of others. I do not recollect to have heard the preacher's name, but I am inclined to think that it must have been Elder Eliphalet Smith, [commonly called "Mountain Smith."] At this period I was about twelve years of age. I had enjoyed but little opportunity for hearing preaching. Although the congregation assembled in a barn, the worship was conducted with great solemnity, and the preacher had my whole attention. I felt a solemn sense of my responsibility to GOD. In the intermission I retired into the woods, my mind was filled with serious reflections, and I earnestly wished to continue in this frame of mind. While returning home, I had no inclination to join the young company in their light and careless conversation. I felt inclined to walk alone. The impression made on my mind continued for some time. I do not recollect, however, to have formed any opinion respecting my situation. Indifference at last succeeded, but I did not indulge myself in outbreaking sins as usual. Soon after this I returned to my parents in Portsmouth. An abundance of new objects was here presented to my view. Ships were building, prizes taken from the enemy unloading, privateers fitting out, standards waved on the forts and batteries, the exercising of soldiers, the roar of cannon, the sound of martial music and the call for volunteers so infatuated me, that I was filled with anxiety to become an actor in the scene of war. My eldest brother, Thomas, had recently returned from a cruise on board the "General Mifflin," of Boston, Capt. Mc'Neal. This ship had captured thirteen prizes, some of which, however, being of little value, were burnt, some were sold in France, others reached Boston, and their cargoes were divided among the crew of that ship. On my brother's return,