While my mind was occupied in these reflections, my mother again entered my chamber to see if I wanted anything. ‘Are you asleep, Joseph’—my eyes were shut, and I did not reply. She stood over me with the light in her hand gazing on my weather-beaten countenance. ‘My poor wanderer!’ she ejaculated, ‘what must you have endured since I last saw you. Danger and death has surrounded you, fatigue and hunger attended your steps; but yet you have been kindly dealt with, mercifully preserved. I return thee thanks, thou Almighty giver of every good, for thy bounteous mercy to my poor boy—O guide him to thyself!’ She stooped to kiss my forehead—her warm tears fell upon my face—my emotions became too strong for concealment, and afraid that she had disturbed my sleep, she softly left the room. Those who have felt the rude storms of adversity, and the endearing kindness of a mother, will appreciate my feelings on this occasion. FOOTNOTES: [17] This expression of my feelings may appear, to some, like bombast or affected feeling—I care not. I appeal to those who have felt an enthusiastic love of nature; if it touches a responding chord in their bosoms, I am satisfied. CHAPTER VI. STORY OF WILLIAM. While in winter quarters, in the latter end of 1812, a detachment of recruits joined us from the depot at home, some of whom were attached to our company. Among them was a lad of the name of William Young, a native of Glasgow. His conduct and character were so strikingly different from that of his comrades, that he soon became an object of remark. He might then be about eighteen or nineteen years of age, prepossessing in his appearance; but his countenance was ‘sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,’—something seemed to lie heavy at his heart. When not on duty he was in the habit of wandering much by himself, and, unless when he could not avoid it, he rarely spoke to any one. When the weather did not permit him to ramble, he occupied himself in reading a small pocket Bible, which he always carried about with him, and often, while thus engaged, the tears could be seen trickling down his cheeks. Those of course were considered symptoms of religious feeling, and as such were ridiculed by the more brutal and illiterate part of his comrades; it was, however, confined to them, for there is a sacredness attached to even the appearance of religion in the minds of those who have been brought up by religious parents, that however lax their own morality may be, prevents them from turning it into ridicule. Their hearts still cherish the recollection of the holy feelings which have been excited in their younger years, and untainted at the core, sigh to think they do not now feel as they were wont, that purity and happiness which by association must ever be connected with their religious observances. I felt interested in him, and soon acquired his confidence so far, that he confided to me the outlines of his story, up to the time of his enlisting.