Chapter III: Voyage in the Morley (2)

9th.—At noon this day, the five women,—for I have since determined the actual number of offenders,—who were noticed to use rather too much familiarity towards the sailors, were called apart, and reminded in forcible terms of their rash conduct in breaking through that reserve which was enjoined by the Prison Regulations; and that every tittle of their improper behaviour, however secret they might suppose it to be, was thoroughly known, and liable to the exposure and punishment it so deservedly merited. They seemed to feel the sense of disgrace poignantly at being so detected, of which they were not at first aware; they promised most faithfully, in the hope of forgiveness, to avoid the conversation of the sailors as much as possible; and requested with fervent solicitation to be allowed the trial, assuring me that I should find them sincere and firm in that resolution.

11th.—The latter part of yesterday passed in a manner the most decorous and tranquil; and the system of discipline assumes a good portion of organized character. An understanding seems now to pervade the minds of the convicts, that the more submissive and circumspect they are, the sooner will their situation become truly comfortable, as indulgence must be the fruit of good behaviour only: many of them besides, by contrasting their present circumstances with what they had recently experienced in the prisons where they had been, feel increased gratification from the manner in which they are treated on board the ship.

About 3 P. M. two ladies and a gentleman came to inquire after a misguided young creature, one of the convicts, the daughter of a man who had lived in their family (I think they said) upwards of thirty years, having always maintained an unspotted character. The girl, Eliza Nixon, was sent for to them in the cabin, when the admonition of these good ladies to the object of their humane attentions, was of that kind and conciliatory description which ever finds a ready way to the heart. The young culprit shed tears abundantly; an indication of repentant feeling I had never before observed in her, though she had been many times reproved for levity and flippant behaviour, and on such occasions,—indeed not three hours before,—she bore rebuke without the least emotion.

The purpose of their visit being accomplished, these ladies inquired more particularly into the system employed for the government of the convicts generally; which being explained, they expressed a wish to visit them below, and were not a little gratified by seeing the regularity every where prevailing; but their admiration was particularly engaged in observing the children at school.—It is not indeed matter of surprise that this novel institution should elicit the noblest feelings of a generous and virtuous mind. To witness attentively the first dawning and gradual expansion of the mind, is, in my opinion, more deserving of the attention of philosophers who study the true interests of humanity, as more important and conducive to the welfare of society, than all the wordy lucubrations with which metaphysical writers have for ages amused themselves and the world.

It is impossible not to admire the benevolent zeal that could induce ladies of rank to undertake a journey of some length, and venture on the water in a very boisterous day, for no other purpose than to awaken a vitiated mind to a just and lively sense of its error. At the time these visitors left the ship, both wind and tide happened unfortunately to be contrary to their return, and the watermen were unable to make any progress; their efforts were further frustrated by their boat getting aground, which rendered the situation of the passengers alarming and dangerous. In this state of things the active humanity of Captain Brown was strongly displayed;—he immediately ordered his own boat to be manned, and went off himself to extricate the amiable sufferers; which he effected, and towed their boat up to Woolwich, though he was at the time labouring under severe indisposition.

12th.—About 4 P. M. the Bank Solicitor came on board, and completed the distribution of the donation to certain of the prisoners. This money had been expected for some time, and several of the women had even made purchase of various useful articles on the faith of its being paid them; these debts they afterwards correctly discharged.

13th.—At noon Mrs. Pryor came to visit the convicts; and, having exhorted them in a very impressive manner, distributed moral tracts, and many useful necessaries intended as materials for industrious employment, a proceeding in every point of view most advantageous and important to the prisoners.

14th.—This day Mr. Capper paid a short visit at the ship, to ascertain fully and finally the state of the prisoners, children, free passengers, &c., and to make arrangements for removing to the convict hospital ship some sick women whom I considered quite unable to undergo the fatigues of the voyage.

15th.—The women this day received another visit from Mrs. Pryor, accompanied by Lord Lilford and the Rev. Mr. Hornby, a magistrate of Lancashire. Those gentlemen came to inquire into some alleged abuses, which were said to have occurred in the gaol of Lancaster, previously to the removal of the female convicts from that place. Having ascertained that such abuses had existed, they departed, the Rev. Mr. Hornby pledging himself to prevent a recurrence of the like abuses in future. Agreeably to the directions of the Navy Board, three sick convicts, Frances Alcock, Frances Pattison, and Isabella Dennison, were removed to the convict hospital ship.

16th.—This day was productive of no incident worthy of record, except a trifling event that happened to one of the sailors, whom I remarked taking improper liberties with one of the prisoners. On mentioning the circumstance to Captain Brown, he immediately decided on the propriety of discharging him, and accordingly the thoughtless fellow was sent on shore this evening.

18th.—Regularity and good order prevail undisturbed. The prisoners are at present employed in making up the articles supplied by the Committee of Ladies, or in perusing the religious books sent for that purpose by private friends. The apprehension that the industry of these creatures must be soon suspended for want of materials to work upon, damps in some measure the sanguine expectation I had formed of keeping them out of mischief.

About half past 8 this morning, the Rev. Mr. _Reddall_ with his wife and family came on board, passengers to New South Wales. The weather is very boisterous, rendering every approach to the vessel extremely dangerous. Captain Brown came down from London, where he had been to sign the necessary documents for the Government, preparatory to sailing, and was nearly swamped as he came alongside.

19th.—About noon this day arrived dispatches from Earl Bathurst for New South Wales, also directions from the Navy Board to proceed on the voyage.

20th.—At 3 this morning weighed anchor and proceeded to Gravesend, where we arrived about 7 A. M. The state of the convicts was steady and orderly until about noon, when a _bum-boat_ came alongside, managed by one old man, who offered beer, milk, and other such articles for sale. An understanding was made, I am informed, between this old man and some of the prisoners, who clubbed, it appears, a subscription of thirty or forty shillings, and with that money purchased spirits from the old man clandestinely and in spite of every risk. They unfortunately eluded vigilance, and succeeded in smuggling this dangerous poison into the ship in bottles and bladders.

The effects broke out in the evening at rather a late hour, when many of them were stupidly intoxicated, and some gave way to their old licentious habits,—quarrelling among themselves, exhibiting the most deplorable and hideous features of drunkenness and depravity. Although excessively ill at the time, I was obliged personally to interfere, and put a stop to a shameful boxing between Mary Kelly, a Newgate girl, and a woman whose character previously had advanced much in my estimation.

Both the combatants were pinioned and confined; at length tranquillity and order were restored, but for a short time only. About 10 P. M. the most horrible screams issued from the prison, to which place I immediately proceeded accompanied by Captain Brown. We soon came to the place where the disturbance was going forward, and found Sarah Downes and Elizabeth Cheatham both nearly exhausted from a battle in which they had just been engaged. These women were both intoxicated and furiously riotous, declaring themselves determined to murder one another; on which we bound them back to back, and fastened them to a post in the hospital. All my endeavours were insufficient, however, to quell their disposition to noise, which during several hours they continued with ceaseless annoyance to every one near them peaceably disposed.

21st.—About 1 A. M. weighed anchor and stood down the river with a light breeze. This day I found myself exceedingly indisposed; but having several patients ill of the measles, I made an effort to see them about half past 4 in the morning, but was soon compelled to retire to bed. Being Sunday, my indisposition was the more distressing: however, the Rev. Mr. Reddall offered to read to the prisoners, which relieved me from all anxiety as to neglecting that most important duty. The reading was followed by an exhortation, in which their behaviour on the preceding evening was forcibly reprehended, which I understand excited unaffected feelings of shame and sorrow.

22nd.—Arrived in the Downs about 4 P. M., where the pilot left us; and the wind being fair, we continued our course under all possible sail.

I thank God, my health is sufficiently recovered to-day to enable me to resume my duties in the prison and the hospital. Two women and seven children are now labouring under the measles. On entering the prison this morning, I was surrounded by those women who had behaved irregularly on Saturday night, whom I had ordered to be released from their confinement as soon as their violence should have subsided. They confessed with tears the enormity of their misconduct, and besought forgiveness, which I felt every disposition to concede; but with regard to three of them who had been most distinguished in their display of pugilistic prowess, I deemed it indispensably necessary to fix on them some mark of disapprobation, and accordingly ordered them not to go on deck any more.

23d.—The breeze still continues fair, but very light: unusual tranquillity now reigns in the prison. I have made it an invariable rule, that every one of the prisoners should bring up her bedding every morning, to have it exposed to the air upon deck whenever the weather will permit; and as the beds, &c. are all marked, this daily exercise is conducted with the greatest regularity.

24th.—About 2 A. M. the breeze died away, and shortly afterwards sprung up from the WNW: in consequence of this change, the weather has become wet, cloudy, and rather boisterous, with a rough sea, which occasioned sufficient motion to make most of the women sick: on this account, and the wet state of the weather, I allowed their beds to remain below.

26th.—During these two days the weather has been boisterous, rainy, and uncomfortable, with a heavy sea. The women are all affected with sea sickness, and utterly incapable of making any exertion. Every precaution has been used to prevent the prison from getting wet, as that would have rendered their situation very distressing.

27th.—The same unpleasant state of weather still continues;—most of the women are in bed, suffering severely from the sea-sickness. Ordered one quarter of a pound of mustard to be served to each mess.

28th.—The weather is, if possible, still more severe than before, and the wind has become contrary. At 11 A. M. I mustered together as many women as were able to get out of bed, and read them a sermon; afterwards made some observations on their general behaviour, and stated my intention to allow each of them, as an indulgence, a gill of wine twice a week, on Sunday and Thursday, with a hope that they would endeavour to improve their conduct, and confirm sincere disposition to amendment: should the contrary appear in any individual, I assured them that the whole mess would be deprived of it; to which they all agreed, seeming quite satisfied with the conditions proposed.

29th.—The wind still continuing unfavourable, the motion of the ship is very rough, and distressing in the extreme to most of the prisoners, who still remain much affected with the sea sickness,—many of them to an alarming degree, in consequence of debility brought on by incessant retching; so that not any thing, even a necessary dose of medicine, can be found to remain on the stomach for an instant. The barometer, however, indicates a favourable change of weather, which may assist in affording them some relief. The measles are spreading among the children very rapidly, thirteen of whom are at present affected.

30th.—No change in the weather promises alleviation to the distress which the prisoners continue to feel:—two are so much debilitated as to be quite incapable of voluntary motion, and their stomachs so excessively irritable that medicine and food continue to be rejected in a moment after swallowing.

31st.—The weather is somewhat more favourable, but the ship’s motion is still considerable, and the distress of the women is very little abated: the two mentioned in yesterday’s journal are very ill. Warm fomentation to the region of the stomach, and frictions with anodyne liniment have afforded a good deal of relief,—still they suffer very much.

_June_ 1st.—This day the weather is clear and exhilarating; but the motion of the vessel, which rolls and pitches very much, is still productive of uneasiness among the women. The two who were most affected are recovering by the means employed, and are now able to take some nutritive preparations given them in small quantity, with judicious care.

At the accustomed hour I read a sermon to the prisoners, during which their conduct individually was decent, serious, and attentive. The system established is now advancing without any sensible interruption, and its success, as I must candidly acknowledge, thus far has exceeded the most sanguine expectation I had ventured to entertain of it. So regular and excellent is the behaviour of all the prisoners, that scarcely any incident now occurs to afford subject for a journal.

4th.—This day an address, written in a manner adapted to the immediate condition of the convicts, according to my best understanding of the subject, and touching on many points most worthy of notice in their circumstances, particularly the moral improvement evinced by them since the commencement of the voyage, was read in the prison, in presence of the Reverend Mr. Reddall. The religious seriousness and respectful demeanour of the whole, who were all cleanly dressed, became the occasion. Nothing could exceed the earnestness with which every word of the address was received, and it was gratifying to observe the course of its effects upon their minds.

To the gospel truths quoted in the address the most lively attention was displayed, whilst their flooded cheeks and sobbings evidently and forcibly exhibited the sincerity of that impression which was produced by the moral deductions and observations made on the sacred words. Their minds were, at times, drawn to the consideration of their past transgressions, and a call made on their feelings, to ascertain their different states as to repentance and rejection of sin, which was answered by the most lively expressions of sorrow among them, testified individually, without regard to the chilling influence of having any witness of their feelings.

But when allusion was made to the probability of an eternal separation from kindred, friends, and home, their feelings, wound to the highest pitch by the poignancy of reflection, exhibited a scene of distress of the deepest interest.—The thoughtless, giddy votary of vice became a Magdalen in heart; and no sacrifice, it may be confidently said, would have then been deemed too great to redeem, were that possible, the opportunities of grace they had lost or spurned, and the happiness which it was evident they were conscious of having compromised by their insensate conduct.

The scene was altogether to me the most edifying; and, however vain the declaration may cause me to be considered, I felt at this instant well rewarded for the labours I had taken for the good of these forlorn females. Now that the minds of these “outcast” creatures seem subdued by repentance and gospel precept, and aware that nearly one third of the voyage has been completed, there is satisfactory cause to presume that they will continue in the way of improvement, and endeavour not only to qualify themselves to appear fully deserving of good opinion, but to lay up a store of virtuous resolution, from the instructions they have received, for a happy and correct guidance of their future conduct. The following is a copy of the Address which I read on this occasion.

ADDRESS.

At our first meeting I took occasion to lay before you a few observations, which a leisure hour had allowed me to put together, for your guidance during the present voyage; and I fondly indulged the hope that they might awaken in your minds the principles of virtue, which a longer or a shorter career in the devious paths of vice had suffered to slumber too long. Since that time, many eventful circumstances have occurred to produce in my mind reflections of a very serious nature, which, as they tend to strengthen and improve every estimable virtue, it may not be quite unprofitable to myself or you to give a sketch of.

Many of the observations, which I now intend to offer to your consideration, have arisen out of your own behaviour; while the remainder owe their existence to a lively feeling of humility in my own breast, and of dependence upon the Author of all good, lately elicited by a sick bed. I refrain from adverting to the cause of my recent illness, because I am unwilling to give any of you unnecessary pain even for a moment, and because your behaviour since that time convinces me, that most of you are sorry for the error you then so thoughtlessly committed[15]. On a sick bed the mind is forcibly led to the contemplation of a future state; and a question, of the first degree of importance, will very frequently present itself to the languishing sufferer, which, if I may judge from my own feelings, he will find extremely difficult, if not quite impossible, to get rid of, unless the actions of his past life furnish him with an answer. The question, as it forced itself upon my mind, is this—“Should it please Heaven to remove me from this sinful world, what is to be my lot in the next?” I here take it for granted that you all truly believe in a future state beyond the grave, and in a just God who will punish the wicked and reward the righteous. Indeed, I think it would be a mere waste of words and time to urge any arguments on this subject; for there is no fact, either moral or physical, of which I am more firmly convinced than this, that there is not a human being this day living, who in his heart sincerely doubts the existence of an all-protecting Deity. Although the contrary of this has sometimes been asserted by learned men, who have only disgraced the human shape and character, yet I firmly believe in my soul, that not one of them ever succeeded in deceiving himself into a belief of the gloomy doctrines he had so long and so zealously laboured to propagate. It would be no very difficult task to expose the weakness, and entirely refute the principles, of this false philosophy; but the argument would be uninteresting to you, and a victory over those who have degraded the dignity of the human character so low as to consider themselves no better than a dog or an ass, and like them entirely to perish with death, would, in my opinion, afford but a puny triumph.

Without any further notice of infidels, or their dark doctrines, I shall endeavour to point out a few plain thoughts in the order, as nearly as I can, they occurred to my own imagination. It has afforded me great pleasure to notice that most of you have perused my former little Address with care and attention; and it gives me infinite gratification to be assured, as I am, that it has been the means of bringing more than one or two amongst you to repentance, who are now leaning for support upon their Heavenly Father, and, having fixed their hope on that immoveable rock, are now enjoying tranquillity and peace of mind, to which they were before strangers. The knowledge of this happy change has encouraged me to devote another hour to your service; and if God shall be pleased so far to bless my feeble endeavours as to make me instrumental in reclaiming another wanderer, and restoring her to the fold of Christ, the proudest wish of my heart will be gratified.

It has been to me matter of surprise, to observe that mankind generally are unwilling to indulge in reflections on death and a future state, as if, by excluding the subject from their thoughts, they expect to secure themselves from the unwelcome visits of this all-destroying enemy. For my own part, I have often passed a solitary hour very profitably in meditating upon this subject, and considering how death might be entirely divested of terror. Amidst the many uncertain events which every where surround human life, and in which we are all here particularly involved, there is one thing we have too much reason to believe, namely, that of us who have commenced this voyage, and who are now present, there are some, I fear, who shall not survive to see it finished; but which of us it may please God to call, he alone can tell.

Respecting the certainty of death, all the nations of the earth are agreed, however opposite their sentiments may be in other respects. Since, then, “it is appointed unto all men once to die[16],” and as no power on earth can reverse or retard this decree, it behoves us, one and all, timely to prepare for an event concerning which we only know, that happen soon it must; but whether within a few years, a month, or a day, we are totally ignorant. Who amongst us can say with confidence that we shall live to see the sun rise to-morrow, or set this evening? If life at best is but a span, and in every case uncertain; and if our happiness or misery hereafter is to depend upon our actions during this life, which I shall endeavour presently to prove they do, how very important must its concerns appear!

I candidly confess to you, that I cannot help sometimes shuddering at the thought of eternity; it is impossible that any one can reflect on it seriously, and be unmoved. If the torments of hell were to last but a week, a month, or a hundred years, they might be endured; but, alas! when hundreds, thousands, and millions of ages shall have crept slowly away, how agonizing the thought that our misery is hardly then commenced! O my friends! this is not an imaginary picture, invented by man to frighten sinners from their evil ways, and induce them to repent; it has been proclaimed a thousand times by the voice of God, and who dares to doubt his authority? How ought the following declarations to appall the heart of an unrepenting sinner, whose conscience terribly assures him that he is included in the awful denunciation, Acts, 17th chapter 31st verse, “Because He hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead!” Again; 2nd Corinthians, 5th chapter, 10th verse, “For we must all appear before the judgement seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.” Again; John, 5th chapter, 28th & 29th verses, “Marvel not at this: for the hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth: they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation.” Again; Matthew, 13th chapter, 49th & 50th verse, “So shall it be at the end of the world: the angels shall come forth, and sever the wicked from among the just, and shall cast them into the furnace of fire: there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth.” Again; Matthew, 25th chapter, 31st and following verses, “When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory: and before him shall be gathered all nations; and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats: and he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels: for I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not. Then shall they also answer him saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal.” Again; Romans, 2nd chapter, 6th and following verses, “who will render to every man according to his deeds: to them who by patience in well doing seek for glory and honour and immortality, eternal life: but unto them that are contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that doeth evil, of the Jew first, and also of the Gentile; but glory, honour and peace to every man that worketh good, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile.” Again; Psalm ix. verse 17, “The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God.”

Who is so hardened in iniquity as to hear these threats without trembling, ignorant, as he must be, what moment the thunderbolt of God’s judgement may descend upon his guilty head? Can any of you doubt the purity or truth of that fountain whence these terrible assurances flow?—Suppose it should so happen, that the unembodied spirit of some departed friend were this night permitted to appear before you;—some one who had been the bosom companion of your earliest youth, before the fair blossoms of innocence were blasted and consumed by the pestilential breath of iniquity: or suppose the apparition of a father, mother, sister, brother, or husband, whose death was occasioned by your undutiful, graceless, or ungrateful behaviour, should present itself to your imagination, and assure you, in a voice of thunder, that a life of sin tends to misery on earth, and endless torments after death; would not such a visitation make a deep impression on your minds, and a total change in your lives? I really fear that with some of you it would not; for, if you will not believe the word of God, we are assured, “You would not believe, though one rose from the dead[17].”

Were it in the power of eloquence to pourtray, or could fancy represent, the horrors of that gloomy dungeon which is prepared for the punishment of condemned souls, “where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched[18];” where a single ray of joy will never be permitted to illumine the dark abode of the hopeless captive; where the wrath and indignation of a justly offended God will burn for time everlasting, without consuming the wretched sufferer; could any power of human language bring these things fairly before the imagination, the picture would be too shocking for the contemplation even of the most callous depravity. Should any of you give this tremendous situation a moment’s serious thought, you would surely be induced to renounce sin for ever.

In the foregoing observations I have endeavoured to address myself to sinners in general; but I have a few remarks to offer, which apply peculiarly to yourselves. Respecting the errors which have led to your present misfortunes I shall be silent. There are few or none of us, on taking a retrospective glance of life, but will perceive many wonderful instances of God’s goodness, many unmerited mercies. This, perhaps, some of you are unable to recognise, or unwilling to acknowledge, erroneously imagining that, because sin and folly have subjected you to disgrace and punishment, all the other favours of Heaven are withheld. But, my friends, we ought not to forget the many innumerable blessings and privileges we are still permitted to enjoy. We ought to be earnest in thanksgiving to the Author of all mercies, for bearing with our infirmities so long, and granting us time for repentance.

I cannot avoid reminding you of the great advantages you have enjoyed since you came to this ship: the means of grace are of inexpressible value, and I think you have had them in great abundance. The Scriptures have been constantly read and expounded to you according to the best of my ability; the utmost facility and encouragement have been held out to every one of you to persevere in religious worship; and all the avenues to vice and immorality have been guarded with vigilant care. Whenever we are visited with the dispensations of Heaven, we may rest assured that it is for wise purposes; and in the afflictions which you are now enduring, the warning hand of Divine Providence has been obviously stretched forth. Let me now ask you, What influence have all these had upon your minds? Are you more enlightened? Are your affections more raised from the world, and fixed on your Father in heaven? Have you ever, at the close of a day, or the end of a week, examined your own hearts to ascertain whether you had broken any of those cruel chains by which you were so fatally bound to iniquity? Believe me, my friends, frequent self-examination is of infinite value. It will stimulate you to acts of virtue, and insensibly lead to repentance, without which you cannot advance a single step towards a merciful Redeemer. Let it be engraven upon your minds, that in proportion as your opportunities of salvation have been numerous, so will your condemnation be grievous, if you allow them to pass unimproved and unheeded. Remember that the doors of mercy will not always be open. Oh! let me admonish you to draw near to God while he has promised to be gracious. The parable of the Fig-tree is wonderfully applicable in the present case[19]: “A certain man had a fig-tree planted in his vineyard, and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. Then said he to the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig-tree, and find none: cut it down; why cumbreth it the ground?” In this you may observe that God marks attentively how long we have been unprofitable and unfruitful. The fig-tree evidently had reference to sinners, who for a certain time disregarded the means of grace, and obstinately resisted his frequent invitations; which induced him at length to direct that the tree should be cut down, that is, that those sinners should be destroyed.

I said, in a former part of this discourse, that your situation was peculiar; it does indeed differ widely from that of most persons to whom divines have had opportunities of addressing the consoling doctrines of Jesus Christ. You have now bid adieu to your native land, the pleasures of which most of you must make up your minds to relinquish for ever. It is indeed very natural that the land which gave us birth, the spot where we first beheld the light of Heaven, should long be remembered with tenderness the most endearing. That we should cherish the finest feelings of affection for our native land, is directed by a great and irresistible law of nature, which was first implanted in our breasts by the hand of the Creator himself; and I can easily fancy the emotions that must swell your hearts, when the fond recollection of youthful joys, and innocent pleasures, returns upon your memory. To be thus cut off from your country, relations, friends, and acquaintances, is indeed a heavy affliction; and if your hope be placed on nothing above this earth, I pity you from my soul: but, if you can repose on the promises of God, and seek refuge in the merits of his blessed Son, our Redeemer, the proudest individual in this world has cause to envy you.

I think enough is comprised in the foregoing observations, to deter all rational beings from the commission of crime, and thereby exposing themselves to the vengeance of that awful Majesty that can crush them in an instant. Before I quit this subject, it may be expected that I mention a few of the motives that ought to incite us to virtue. These are so obvious, even to the most superficial observer, that it is hardly possible for any one who thinks at all, to hesitate which is to be chosen in preference, vice or virtue—happiness or misery. A good life is the surest pledge of a happy death. The promises of God are not less encouraging to the righteous, than disheartening to the wicked. In the 3d chapter and 33d verse of Proverbs, we read, “The curse of the Lord is in the house of the wicked, but he blesseth the habitation of the just.” Again, of the same 13th chapter, and 21st verse, “Evil pursueth sinners: but to the righteous, good shall be repaid.” The faith of a righteous man drawing towards the close of life, is beautifully expressed in the 23d Psalm, 4th and following verses. The Psalmist, reposing securely under the shelter of divine protection, says, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” By the Scripture term _faith_, I understand the inspired writers to mean, that a sinner, after forsaking the corruptions of sin and the flesh, and steadily persevering in the course of virtue and obedience, which the Christian religion points out, shall place entire reliance in the mediation of Christ, for pardon of his offences, and acceptance with God.

It might here very properly be asked, whether you ever knew of any one who, having led a virtuous life, had cause to repent of it at the hour of death? But, on the contrary, have you not all seen many flying to God in the hour of sickness and keen affliction, as the only certain source whence the true penitent may always derive consolation? Even in this life the righteous man has cause to believe that the blessing of Heaven will be extended to him. This expectation is confirmed to him by the assurance of the Psalmist, who says, in the 37th Psalm, 23d and following verses, “The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; for the Lord upholdeth him with his hand. I have been young, and now am old; yet have I _not_ seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.” In the 16th chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, 22d and succeeding verses, we have a wonderful instance of God’s providence, in the protection and deliverance of two of his servants, which I consider highly deserving of your notice: “And the multitude rose up against them; and the magistrates rent off their clothes, and commanded to beat them. And when they had laid many stripes upon them, they cast them into prison, charging the jailor to keep them safely; who having received such a charge, thrust them into the inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks. And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed, and sang praises unto God: and the prisoners heard them. And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken: and immediately all the doors were opened, and every one’s bands were loosed. And the keeper of the prison awaking out of his sleep, and seeing the prison doors open, he drew out his sword, and would have killed himself, supposing that the prisoners had been fled. But Paul cried out with a loud voice, saying, Do thyself no harm; for we are all here. Then he called for a light, and sprang in, and came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them out, and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved? And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.”

Would my time admit of making further extracts from Scripture, I could fill a multitude of pages with accounts of the loving-kindness and patient forbearance continually exercised by God towards his creatures; but the Bible is in the hands of you all, and I earnestly entreat you to make yourselves acquainted with the salutary and cheering precepts which you will find inculcated in every line of that sacred volume. It abounds in consolations with which the thirsty soul of the weary traveller, who is seeking salvation, may be feasted and refreshed. The careful perusal of this most excellent book is not only granted to us as a privilege, but God enjoins it as a duty: He says, in the Gospel according to St. John[20], “Search the Scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me.”

I fear I have already trespassed too long on your patience; but I feel a resistless impulse to give you a brief account of the dying moments of two persons with whom I was acquainted, and from which, beyond all doubt, the most impressive moral lesson may be learned. I select these from a great many similar cases which came under my observation in the course of professional avocation in various parts of the world.

These men through life professed sentiments very different from each other; and at the awful hour of dissolution, their feelings were indeed very opposite. They were both snatched away in the prime of life, one being twenty-four, and the other twenty-seven years old. A long and disinterested friendship with the former, induced him to request my attendance professionally; but all human skill was vain: the cold hand of death had seized him. Never, in my life, did I see the cheering effects of a religious life more strongly exemplified than on this occasion. His wife, his mother, and his five sisters, with myself, were present. Observing his female relations in tears, he requested them to come near, and, after a little pause, addressed them in nearly the following words: “Beloved friends, I perceive with regret the anguish of your souls; I say regret, because I had promised myself nothing but tranquillity and happiness, while the partition is breaking down that separates me from my God. I am entering on my last journey, which, so far from being terrible, is inviting and delightful.” A paroxysm of pain here interrupted the interesting account, and for a minute he lay apparently insensible; but opening his eyes again, with a placid smile, he said, “I feel the infirmity of nature, but my sense of pain is lost in my ardent hope of salvation. I have heartily repented of all my sins, and firmly believe, through the benignant mercies of my God, and the redeeming merits of my _blessed Saviour_, I shall in a few minutes be numbered with the chosen of God. O my wife! my mother! my beloved sisters! I beseech you not to mourn my departure. I feel happiness unspeakable opening on my soul, as it bursts from this wretched tenement.” Then grasping my hand, he faintly exclaimed, “Ah, my friend! virtue is its own reward. See the effect of a religious life, and the blessed composure of a dying Christian:” he continued, “My lamp is nearly out; but, blessed be God, I feel that it has not burned in vain, O Lord God! excuse my impatience, I am ready to obey thy call, and anxious to receive thy promised rest.” Here his voice failed,—his tongue faltered,—and his spirit took its flight to the bosom of its Father in heaven.

The picture of my other unhappy friend was just the reverse of the above. He had indulged freely in all the fashionable gaieties of the world; and if ever a serious or useful thought obtruded on his disordered fancy, it was immediately stifled by some idle debauchery. In this mad career he quaffed away life to the dregs, and, before he arrived at the meridian of manhood, he was verging fast to the brink of eternity. A bacchanalian surfeit in a distant country brought on a fever, which threatened a speedy dissolution of life; and in this state I saw him for the first time for several years, and I am certain I shall never forget the painful feelings I endured throughout this melancholy interview. It is absolutely impossible to give even a faint idea of the horror, the agony, the heart-rending terror that harrowed up his soul, whenever the thought of death flashed across his mind. He received me with phrensied ardour, in which hope and fear were strongly depicted. “Alas!” he exclaimed, “you have come too late, for I am lost—_every way lost_.” I immediately perceived that life was ebbing fast; and being convinced that nothing short of divine interposition could retard his fate, I endeavoured to console him by drawing his attention to the mercies of God, and the saving mediation of a gracious Redeemer: to which he replied, with asperity and violence, “If you have any friendship left for a degraded, self-polluted wretch, torture not his last moments. My life has been spent in iniquity—foolishly spent, because it never yielded one hour of solid happiness. I have lived without thinking of God, and why should he _now_ think of me, unless it be to judge me—to damn me?—Oh, God!—I shall go distracted!” A fainting fit intervened, and fortunately broke this mournful chain of reflection; but, alas! sensibility too soon returned, and with it fresh trains of gloomy despondency. He stared wildly, and roared out, “I have broken from him—but he is coming again—there—there—death!—Oh! save me—save me.” After nearly an hour passed in this dreadful state, he again became capable of reflecting; but every moment added to his dejection. “I have been so bad,” he exclaimed, “that God can never forgive me. I have blasphemed and dishonoured his holy name a hundred times, when my heart inwardly smote me. I have ridiculed and denied his existence, that my companions in error might think well of me; but I never was sincere in my wickedness.” His mind became so agitated that all reasoning was lost:—he was unable to repent; and the thought of death rent his very soul. In this perturbed state he languished for about four hours, from the time of my first seeing him; till at length, overwhelmed by despair, a paroxysm of fever closed the tragic scene. The last words he uttered, that I could distinctly hear, were, “God will not, cannot forgive!—” The remainder was lost in a murmuring groan.

Oh! my friends, could I convey to you any idea of the awful feelings which the wretched death of this wretched man produced upon my mind, it would, I think, deter the most thoughtless of you from those practices which ruin both soul and body. Would to God that you had been present! My description may not penetrate beyond the ear: but had you witnessed the dreadful original, it would have pierced your hearts.

Before concluding these observations, I cannot refrain from indulging myself in a single remark on your conduct lately, which I have infinite pleasure in saying merits the highest approbation of both Captain Brown and myself. Believe me, I lost no opportunity of acquainting all my benevolent friends of your good behaviour before we left England; and if you persevere to the end of the voyage in this praiseworthy manner, I promise you that all the well disposed inhabitants of the country to which you are going shall be informed of it; and in my best offices with the Governor you may most religiously confide.

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5th.—At the earnest solicitation of several of the prisoners, I allowed copies of the above address to be taken by them, having the greater inclination to comply with this request, as I wished to see its effects rendered permanent. Their general conduct continues exemplary.

8th.—The same unvarying scene now presents itself every day. The women show no inclination whatever to hold conversation with the sailors. In every part of the ship to which the prisoners are allowed access, I have the gratifying opportunity of seeing some one of them reading a portion of Scripture, or some religious tract, to a group of her companions collected round to hear the consoling doctrines of the gospel. It now requires little or no entreaty to induce them to the practice of religious worship, in which I am persuaded many of them engage with sincere piety.

At 11 A. M. being somewhat indisposed, the Rev. Mr. Reddall did me the favour to read a sermon in the prison, during which I was summoned to a child that had long lingered from water on the brain, and was then dying. When the sermon was finished, I took occasion to address the women on the subject of death, as mentioned in my last address. The child’s dissolution, which had just taken place, gave an opportunity of impressing the subject on their minds; and, if one may judge by the burst of feeling it produced, it will not be speedily obliterated, the circumstances of life and death being immediately present to the imagination of each every moment of the voyage. Between 4 and 5 P. M. the funeral service was read by the Rev. Mr. Reddall, and the body of the child was committed to the deep.

10th.—About half past 10 last night, an infant belonging to one of the prisoners died from the effects of a blood-vessel of the lungs ruptured about five weeks previously. About half past 3 this evening the reverend Mr. Reddall read the funeral service, and the body was committed to the deep. The reverend gentleman afterwards addressed the women (who were present as well on this as the former occasion) in an impressive moral exhortation, to which they paid the most respectful attention. Their conduct has been generally so good as to admit of no opportunity of using one word of animadversion as heretofore.

11th.—At 11 A. M. the Rev. Mr. Reddall read to the women in the prison a sermon which he had written for the particular occasion, admirably adapted to their situation. It was intended as an appeal to their feelings, and realized the expectations formed of its effects: there was not in fact a dry eye present. When he had concluded, I made a few observations expressive of my approbation of their general behaviour, and how much it gratified me to observe their gradual reformation. I now entertain scarcely a shadow of doubt that the great design of the _Ladies’ Committee_ will be crowned with complete success.

14th.—Nothing remarkable has occurred since last date, the conduct of the prisoners being uniformly correct. The increasing heat of the weather,—the ship having advanced considerably within the tropics,—together with the full diet, have produced inflammatory symptoms among the prisoners, which it was necessary to treat with copious depletion, and other advisable means. I have satisfaction in observing them relieved by the above treatment.

15th.—This day, according to the usual rule, the prisoners were assembled to hear religious instruction; but as the weather was very hot, it appeared most proper that I should read the discourse to them on deck, where the Reverend Mr. Reddall, Captain Brown, and his officers, attended. The behaviour of the women was discreet and orderly: their manners have assumed a certain sedateness which recommends them to particular notice. Several have been employed in plaiting straw, and doing needle-work; many are quite devoted to reading and conversing on the Scriptures, thus filling up their time very usefully.

16th.—This day, about 11 A. M., there came on a heavy squall from the S.E., which blew with tremendous fury for nearly an hour, accompanied with very heavy and incessant rain. Being aware of its approach, I had ordered the beds to be carefully covered in the netting. As this was the first appearance of any thing like a storm, many of the women from a motive of curiosity remained upon deck until the hurrying exertions of the sailors, and the loud voices of the Captain and officers giving the necessary commands for the management of the ship, excited their terror and drove them all below drenched with rain.

I had been occupied in the hospital with the sick patients when the confusion on deck was in its height, and on coming into the prison was presented with a sight which, I must confess, gave me inexpressible gratification. Most of the women were on their knees devoutly engaged in prayer;—they did not appear to notice me, so great was their abstraction;—all was silence, and religious awe. The apprehended danger seemed to have brought forth the feelings of fervent devotion, and their appearance, as they were then to be viewed, was similar to that of a well ordered assembly at church.

The matter, altogether, made an impression on my mind which will not soon be removed; because at that instant I had the most satisfactory proof of the results I had always anticipated from the system adopted. Here, for instance, was a moment to try their faith. All the feelings seemed now absorbed in religious thought, and they appeared firm in reliance on the protection of Divine Providence;—an idea to which many of them had been hitherto strangers, and the majority of them did not dare to indulge. The shallow sceptic, who would despair of producing religious impression on the minds of convicts, might, in this happy and unexpected occurrence, find enough to convince him of his error, and to make him change his opinion, were his ignorance formed even of the most stubborn materials.

A subsequent circumstance also persuaded me that the alarm created by the squall was the means of calling up in their minds more lasting reflections of a religious nature; for, about 4 in the evening, Sidney Williams, whose conduct in Newgate was so extravagantly wicked as to induce the Surgeon of that establishment to propose her removal to Bethlehem Hospital, came to me with a hymn, which I had given her some time before to learn, with a promise of some mark of approbation in case of attention, and recited the whole with feeling and correctness. I engaged her immediately to commit to memory my first address, and have very little doubt of her performing the task.