“I embraced the opportunity of getting to the wounded men, soon after my landing. A party of the company’s troops were ordered to repair to the field of battle, to bring away the wounded, under the command of Major ——, whom I knew. By his permission, I attached myself to them, and marched six miles over a soft burning sand, till we reached the fatal spot. We found several but slightly hurt; and these we left for a while, after seeing their wounds dressed by a surgeon. A little onward were three mortally wounded. One of them, on being asked where he was struck, opened his shirt and showed a wound in his left breast. The blood which he was spitting, showed that he had been shot through the lungs. As I spread my great coat over him, by the surgeon’s desire, who passed on without attempting to save him, I spoke of the blessed gospel, and besought him to look to Jesus Christ for salvation. He was surprised, but could not speak; and I was obliged to leave him, in order to reach the troops, from whom the officers, out of regard to my safety, would not allow me to be separated. Among several others, some wounded, and some dead, was Captain ——; who was shot by a rifleman. We all stopped for a while, to gaze, in pensive silence, on his pale body, and then passed on, to witness more proofs of the sin and misery of fallen man. Descending into the plain, where the main body of each army had met, I saw some of the fifty-ninth, one of whom, a corporal, who sometimes had sung with us, told me that none of the fifty-ninth were killed, and none of the officers wounded. Some farm-houses, which had been in the rear of the enemy’s army, had been converted into an hospital for the wounded, whom they were bringing from all quarters. The surgeon told me that there were already in the houses two hundred, some of whom were Dutch. A more ghastly spectacle than that which presented itself here, I could not have conceived. They were ranged without and within the house, in rows, covered with gore. Indeed, it was the blood, which they had not had time to wash off, that made their appearance more dreadful than the reality: for few of their wounds were mortal. The confusion was very great: and sentries and officers were so strict in their duty, that I had no fit opportunity of speaking to any of them, except a Dutch captain, with whom I conversed in French. After this, I walked out again with the surgeon to the field, and saw several of the enemy’s wounded. A Hottentot, who had had his thigh broken by a ball, was lying in extreme agony, biting the dust, and uttering horrid imprecations upon the Dutch. I told him that he ought to pray for his enemies; and after telling the poor wretched man of the gospel, I begged him to pray to Jesus Christ. But our conversation was soon interrupted; for, in the absence of the surgeon, who was gone back for his instruments, a highland soldier came up, and challenged me with the words, ‘Who are you?’ ‘An