MEMOIRS

OF

CAPTAIN JAMES WILSON.

PART I.

From the Early Youth of the Captain, to his settling at Horndean, in Hampshire.

THE representation of truth through the medium of historic fact and biographical incident, has always proved more interesting to a very numerous class of readers, than when presented in an abstract and didactic form.

Biography exhibits principles in operation, and shows the doctrine and its evidence in one view. The reading of it gives scope for the exercise of nearly all the powers of the soul, at the same time. The imagination presents to the mind, the object, place, and occurrence, as though before the eye; the understanding associates ideas, examines and traces causes and effects, and draws its conclusions, while the passions are excited, in a degree proportioned to the interesting nature of the narrative. If its subjects be moral or religious, the conscience

also is employed, and gives a point and personal application to truth, highly beneficial to the reader. Thus biography, while it affords entertainment, is suited to impart instruction, and improve the heart. It is from the interest the human mind feels in historic representation, that dramatic writing obtains such an extensive and almost universal popularity. The religious as well as the fashionable world, has its dramas; and fact and fiction are so blended in some books, as to render it necessary to guard our young people against supposing that all is fiction. It is neither my province nor my intention, to decide on the propriety or impropriety of this mode of writing, but I may express my fears, lest there should be such a degree of it, as may introduce a levity of character into the most serious part of society, and by the number of such books facilitate the transition from the love of religious to that of fashionable novels. By giving too much employment to the fancy, faith is embarrassed, and the understanding is weakened. Perhaps the best way to prevent a redundancy of this kind of composition, is to present the religious world with authentic narratives of real life; to exhibit facts as they occur, without the aid of an imaginary scenery to increase the interest of the representation.

It it should be thought that these remarks seem like an apology for writing the following Memoir, I would say, it is not denied; but they afford likewise an opportunity to assure the reader, that fiction is in no instance called to aid or embellish the interesting narrative which is here presented of the life of Captain James Wilson.

Dr. Haweis thought the Captain's life so eventful and instructive, that he has appended a well-written, though brief account, of the early part of it, to his three volumes of Church History. This account has been since printed by some booksellers, in a de

tached, but mutilated form, and very extensively circulated through the country. The avidity with which that tract was read, and the lively interest many have taken in the Captain's life, have induced his friends to think, that a more enlarged and correct account of his conversion from Deism to Christianity, and from a state of unregeneracy to a state of vital godliness, is highly desirable.

I have given the part of his life previous to his conversion, with some corrections and additions, which subsequent conversation with the Captain suggested, nearly in the language of his much esteemed friend. The Doctor entitles his account, "Memoirs of the leadings of Divine Providence, in the call of Captain James Wilson to the work of conducting the South Sea Mission."

As the work of God in general, and the Missionary Society in particular, are so highly indebted to the noble and disinterested services of Captain James Wilson, I wish to record his name among the worthies, who in spreading the Gospel among the heathen, deserve to be held in especial remembrance. The singular wisdom and prudence with which he discharged his trust, and the uncommon success which crowned his labors, through the whole of his long and perilous voyage, are a fresh manifestation of the care and keeping of that gracious Lord who had so often before, and in such a wonderful manner, led him by a way which he knew not; preserved him amidst deaths oft, and dangers so peculiar; and after bearing with him in his rebellion and insensibility, having chosen him from the beginning for himself, prepared him by a series of preceding providences for that work which he was so peculiarly qualified to fulfil.

Captain James Wilson was the youngest son of nineteen children. His father was commander of a

ship in the Newcastle trade, and brought him up from his earliest years in the sea service. During the last war he served in America, and was present at the battles of Bunker's Hill, and of Long Island.

On his return from America, he obtained a birth as mate of an East Indiaman, being, though young, an able navigator. After arriving in safety at Bengal, he quitted his ship, and determined to abide in that country. There he became engaged in the country service, and in one of these voyages, Mr. Cabel, the marine paymaster, sailing with him from Madras to Calcutta, was so much pleased with his conduct as to commence the most cordial friendship with him; and soon after their arrival in Bengal, sent him in a small vessel to the Nicobar Islands, with dispatches for the ships returning from the east, to advise them of the arrival of the French squadron, under Suffrein, on the coast, and to put them on their guard. The ship he commanded was ill-found, and in the voyage her stern-post grew so loose as to admit so much water, that with difficulty she was prevented from foundering. He was therefore obliged to run for Madras, and off Pulicat, discovered the French fleet going down the coast: he expected them to chase; and pressed with all sail for the shore, where a dangerous shoal probably prevented pursuit and capture; but the ship was so leaky he was obliged to run her on the beach to save their lives. He proceeded thence to Madras, just at the critical moment when the settlement was in the greatest distress. Sir Eyre Coote had marched to the south, and was so surrounded by Hyder Ally's army, that no supplies could reach him by land; and the French squadron anchoring at Pondicherry, had cut off all supplies by sea; so that the British troops were reduced to great difficulties, and in danger of famine, their stores being nearly exhausted.

Several Pia ships had been loaded with rice at Madras, but as the French fleet lay directly in the way, they dared not attempt the passage to Cuddalore, near which Sir Eyre Coote was encamped. The Governor of Madras, Mr. Smith, had heard of Mr. Wilson, and though a young man, sent for him and inquired if he would attempt to carry down the ships with the supplies for the camp, stating the danger and hazard of the run, and offering him four hundred pagodas for the service, and more if he should be detained beyond a fortnight. The Captain undertook to attempt the passage, and immediately made preparations for his departure, The vessel in which he embarked was about five hundred tons burden; with three others under his command, all navigated by black men, himself being the only European, except an officer, who went down as passenger to the army. He pushed on as far as Sadras, about sixteen leagues, where he took refuge under the Dutch flag, and dispatched two Hircarrahs to Sir Eyre Coote, to inform him of his approach and to expect his orders; but the roads were all so obstructed by Hyder's horse, that to avoid the marauding army, the Hircarrahs were obliged to take a great circuit; and as they ventured to travel only by night, they were eleven days before they returned. They brought from the General, the most urgent orders to proceed, at all hazards, and without a moment's delay; adding, that if the Captain brought only one vessel, and lost the rest, it would be of the most essential service.

He ac

cordingly immediately weighed anchor, proceeding at such a distance from Pondicherry, as to see from the mast-bead the French flag, and if possible, to pass them in the night undiscovered. The French fleet that very evening weighed anchor, occasioned by a singular circumstance, which was afterwards known. Suffrein had sent his water-casks on shore