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THE reader will here observe that I had left behind me, on my desertion, a valuable chest of clothes, books, ''&c. &c.'', the purchase of which, but sixteen mouths before, had cost my affectionate friends a large sum; and I had now, by this rash act, defeated their fondest hopes, and brought disgrace as well on them as on the worthy officer who procured me the appointment. It is impossible, however, for my reader to condemn my folly, or rather wickedness, in stronger terms than my own conscience has ever since done. Surely there must, let moralists argue as they will, be something like a fatality which governs the fortunes of some, if not all, men; and which impels them headlong to their ruin, against the voice of reason and of conscience, and the dictates of common sense. But the retrospect affects me too much: I must not aggravate my present sufferings by dwelling longer on what will not bear reflection. All I can now do is to repent of all my errors; and I trust that Divine