CHAPTER III.

VOYAGE IN THE MORLEY.

Having in duty reported to the proper authority the account of my voyage in the Neptune, I was requested frequently to explain to several persons interested in the cause of humanity many particulars of my system of management in the superintendence of convicts during transportation. The commands of Mrs. FRY in this respect met my warmest wishes; and as that lady’s exertions were then most actively devoted to effect a virtuous change in the female prisoners in Newgate, it was suggested that taking charge of a female convict ship to New South Wales might be productive of similar consequences.

As this subject, therefore, occupied the benignant mind of that benefactress of the unfortunate of her sex, and through them of mankind, and in consequence of the good likely to result from the endeavour, I determined to contribute my humble aid in support of a cause so highly interesting in design, and noble in its end. It is a characteristic of the truly good and great, never to relax until the object deemed worthy of attention is attained. Mrs. Fry lost not a moment in waiting on the Comptroller of the Navy, who, instantly coinciding in her views, gave his full support and encouragement; and ordered my appointment immediately to the next female transport ship to be taken up for New South Wales. In many particulars this gentleman’s attention to arrangements more directly affecting the comforts of the convicts was conspicuous. In every instance, indeed, which has come within my knowledge, a prompt regard to the concerns of humanity has distinguished the conduct of Sir T. BYAM MARTIN.

The _Morley_, a ship of four hundred and ninety-two tons register, was taken up for the above purpose, and ordered down to Deptford to undergo the necessary preparations. Whilst fitting up at that place, I was honoured by an invitation from Mrs. Fry, in compliance with which I accompanied that lady and two others, Mrs. PRYOR and Miss SAUNDERSON, members of the Committee, to visit the vessel and see the preparations going forward. Here the benevolent wishes of the ladies were met by polite and ready attention from Captain YOUNG, R. N., agent for transports, under whose direction and superintendence these ships are fitted up, and whose zeal in the faithful discharge of every public duty is too well known to receive any additional honour from my feeble tribute of well-meant and honest approbation.

Many highly useful arrangements had already been made in the prison and hospital under Captain Young’s directions, which with some few exceptions were perfectly approved of; but the plan of an appropriate place for a school which the Committee were anxious to have established on board, to be continued throughout the voyage, had not as yet been attended to: however, on the suggestions of Mrs. Fry and her friends, as soon as the matter was fully made known to Captain Young, that intelligent officer instantly proposed a mode by which the desired point might be gained, and on consideration this plan was adopted and put into execution.

In these arrangements, the object of the ladies to have some convenient place set apart for the school was fully attained; but unfortunately the general plan of fitting up female convict ships could not be departed from, and _security_ was therefore entirely lost sight of.

In a short time the Morley was fully prepared for the reception of the convicts, and soon after was ordered down to Woolwich to remain in the river, at anchor in _Galleons Reach_, until her complement should be received, convicts having been ordered to be forwarded thither from several prisons in England and Scotland.

The liberality of Government had allowed a free passage to a number of females who were permitted to join their husbands and relatives in New South Wales; and these, according to order from the office of the _Home Department_, were all on board within a certain day appointed. A considerable time had elapsed before the convicts, passengers, children, &c., were completely embarked, during which interval Mrs. Fry visited the ship occasionally to see her intentions fully effected; and this attention to the unhappy objects of her solicitude was the more valuable, as her time was then of the most pressing importance to her own interest and feeling, some valued relatives of hers being dangerously ill. Her absence, when unavoidable, was unremittingly supplied to the convicts by the care and watchfulness of Mrs. Pryor, whom not the roughest weather or greatest personal inconvenience could deter from the work of humanity. Her kind impressive admonitions and consoling advice were given to the unfortunate exiles without reserve, and several articles of comfort and convenience, which had been provided by the Committee, were then distributed by this amiable character.

Whilst these attentions to their personal wants were sedulously given, a due regard to their spiritual welfare was not forgotten. Bibles and Testaments, besides those supplied by the Navy Board, were furnished from the Committee, and also other books of a religious and moral description, peculiarly selected for their circumstances. The kindness of other benevolent persons contributed sermon books and religious tracts in the same manner, and merits particular mention for such generosity. My acknowledgements in this respect are especially due to Mrs. WILKINSON of _Clapham Common_, ROBERT MARSDEN of _Doughty Street_, Esq., and J. L. NICHOLAS of _Southampton Row_, Esq. By several other persons also whom I have not the pleasure to know, their names having been concealed, religious books and useful tracts were sent me through the same praiseworthy motives. The number of these publications altogether was so considerable, as to allow of a liberal distribution to the convicts and free passengers, who, by the good use made of their contents, have given ample proof of their grateful sense of the favours thus conferred[6].

A supply of books and other things fit for the children was carefully sent on board from the Ladies’ Committee; and, to complete their benevolent design, a quantity of straw for plaiting, and some materials for knitting and sewing, were purchased, as their funds would allow, in order to afford the convicts employment on the voyage.

Having well considered the mode in which the conduct of the convicts should be best submitted to the public, as the voyage was undertaken that the progress of reformation among these women should be undisguisedly laid open to observation, be the event favourable or otherwise to the wishes entertained of its success; it appeared the most candid course to state the whole train of occurrences, as they were entered daily in the journal, with that undeviating observance of truth which became the general design, and the most scrupulous attention to accuracy in the circumstances recorded. In this manner, every change for better or worse must pass successively under review, and a correct judgement of the whole be the more satisfactorily determined.

In consequence of this mode of detail, there will doubtless appear many instances of repetition, nor can much variety be expected to occur where the subject is of necessity so extremely limited. Nothing extraneous to the great object in view (the best means of reclaiming convicts from their vicious habits) has been suffered to hold a place in this journal, which is therefore as much as possible abstracted from my professional attentions during the voyage, being exclusively and literally a history of their minds, as well as it could be ascertained by incessant and close investigation; and a faithful record of every trait of amendment, as the system progressively evolves itself in its effects, discoverable in their behaviour.

The plan adopted is founded on strict impartiality. Where there has appeared cause for censure, reprehension has not been withheld; and wherever the behaviour merited approbation, they have received a just share of praise; but in no regard whatever has strict justice been intentionally departed from.

The efficacy of proper regulations having been proved on board the Neptune, in restraining the turbulent from licentiousness, and bringing all under the influence of order, I drew up the following Regulations, which being fixed up conspicuously in the prison, presented daily admonition, and took away all excuse, at least on the plea of ignorance, for breach of discipline; and the ready and cheerful manner they were generally acquiesced in afforded me much satisfaction.

_Regulations._

With a view to ensure the health and comfort of the prisoners, as also to establish a system of good order, decency, and religious conduct during the voyage, the _Surgeon Superintendent_ has drawn up the following regulations, which must be most strictly observed.

I.— The care and management of each mess shall be intrusted to a Monitor, who will be held responsible for any irregularities committed by those under her direction: it is expected that every one will behave respectfully, and be obedient to the monitor of her particular mess.

II.— Cursing and swearing,—obscene and indecent language,—fighting and quarrelling,—as such practices tend to dishonour GOD’S holy name, and corrupt good manners, will incur the displeasure of the Surgeon Superintendent, and be visited with punishment and disgrace.

III.— Cleanliness being essentially necessary to the health, comfort, and well-being of every person on board, it is desired that the most scrupulous attention in this respect shall be observed on every occasion.

IV.— The monitors are particularly enjoined the utmost vigilance in taking care that nothing disorderly shall appear among the members of their respective messes.

V.— Any one convicted of disturbing others whilst engaged in reading the holy Scriptures, or other religious exercise, will incur special animadversion, and such misconduct will be entered in the journal.

VI.— A proper reserve towards the sailors will be held indispensable, and all intercourse with them must be avoided as much as possible.

VII.— A daily account will be kept, and a faithful report made to His Excellency the Governor of New South Wales of the conduct of each individual during the voyage, and those who behave well, though they may have come here with bad characters, will be represented favourably: the _Surgeon Superintendent_ pledges to use his utmost effort to get every one settled in a comfortable manner whose behaviour shall merit such friendly interference.

N. B. Any breach of the above regulations, or any attempt to deface or destroy this paper, will be punished severely; and the person so offending must not expect to be recommended to the kind notice of the Governor of New South Wales.

* * * * *

Before commencing the journal, I shall insert here a statement of the various offences for which these women had been sentenced to banishment, with a view of the characters given with them from the proper authority as they came on board. This will serve to show the proportionate expectation, as to moral reformation, which was to continue connected with their general and individual conduct, throughout a long voyage of at least several months. The names of the individuals are not mentioned, as matter comparatively of little interest.

_Crimes._ Convicts. Burglary 4 Grand larceny 8 Petit larceny 11 Felony 3 Stealing in a dwelling house 6 Stealing furniture 2 Stealing from the person 7 Stealing a watch 3 Stealing linen 1 Stealing cheese 1 Stealing sheets 1 Stealing earthenware 1 Stealing wheat 1 Stealing two pieces of carpet 1 Stealing a purse and money 1 Sheep stealing 3 Shop-lifting 10 Forged notes 41 Receiving stolen goods 10 Highway robbery 5 Robbing her employers 1 ——— Total 121 ———

_Characters._

Good 6 Bad 61 Not known 17 Old offenders 9 Three times in custody on charges of felony 1 Common utterers of forged notes 6 Disorderly characters 7 Fifth conviction 2 Kept houses of bad fame 5 Second offence 1 Fifth offence 1 Confirmed thieves 5 ——— Total 121 ———

Several of those ill-fated creatures had been capitally respited; _twenty-three_ were sentenced to transportation for life; _fifty_ for fourteen, and _forty eight_ for seven years.

* * * * *

“1820. _March_ 24th.—This day I joined the Morley at Deptford, where she was taking in stores; and carpenters from the Dock-yard were employed in fitting her for the voyage[7].

“_April_ 12th.—Cast off the moorings and dropped down to Galleons Reach.

18th.—About noon four female prisoners from Devon Gaol were brought on board, and to them were immediately given that day’s allowance of provisions, and beds, with other necessary articles.

21st.—Seven convicts were brought, at 5 P. M., from Horsemonger-lane, who were disposed of in messes along with the former, and the proper attention in every other respect paid them.

22nd.—Two prisoners arrived from the county gaol of Kent.

23rd.—At noon a lighter came alongside with forty female convicts from Newgate; and shortly afterwards three more from Exeter were brought on board, and one also from the Justitia Hulk at Woolwich, all of whom were classed and victualled.

24th.—At 11 A. M. assembled the convicts in the prison, and distributed among them some religious tracts; after which I read to them a moral discourse which I had prepared for the occasion; when the orderly and respectful conduct they evinced gave me strong hopes of success in future. I distributed printed copies of the Address, one to each, in order that, by considering the subject more at leisure in private, they might better understand its tendency, and avail themselves of its design.”

The following is a correct copy of the Address, which comprehends some of the fundamental principles by which it is my intention they shall be regulated during the voyage.

ADDRESS.

The object of my calling you together at this time, is to make a few observations regarding the voyage which, under Providence, we are about to commence. On your good and correct behaviour during this voyage your future happiness will depend in an infinitely greater degree than, I apprehend, any of you can form the least conception; let me, therefore, entreat your undivided attention, and most serious consideration, to what I am about to offer, as it materially concerns your own welfare.

Your peculiar situation, it is true, excites compassionate consideration, and the performance of any duty which requires rigid restraint, and perhaps measures of severity, must always be painful to a benevolent mind. It is distressing to contemplate the situation of the wretched or unfortunate, even at a distance; and to meliorate their condition must be the first wish and the most gratifying work of humanity.

I trust there is no need of employing arguments to prove that vicious conduct invariably leads to disgrace and misery; the unhappy circumstances in which you are all placed here, must be a more convincing proof of this than any other I can adduce, though many thousands might be mentioned. It is far from my intention to add to your distress by upbraiding you with the errors of your past life; none of us can recall the past; but, for the consolation of human nature, we possess, with the divine aid, over the future an unlimited and absolute control: to this latter point I am particularly desirous of directing your attention.

The word exile, or banishment, sounds harshly on the ear, and must ever convey to the heart the most acute feeling of anguish. Our native land, containing the scenes of youthful amusements and innocent pleasures, abandoned perhaps for ever! the dear ties by which nature had united you to your families, relations and friends must become lacerated; yes, to be compelled to separate from parents, children and husbands, dear as life, and to be parted from them for ever, is, it must be confessed, a truly bitter thought. Under this accumulated load of misery is there no ray of hope, no relief to be obtained? Yes, my unfortunate friends, not only relief, but consummate happiness, even joys unspeakable are within the reach of every one of you.

The Holy Scriptures abound with merciful promises of forgiveness, and gracious invitations to sinners of every sect and degree. Our blessed Redeemer addresses his consolations more immediately to those who are languishing under the horrors of a guilty conscience. His language is that of a tender father earnestly soliciting a wayward child, on whom his fond affection is lavished, to return to its duty and avert the punishment awarded to disobedience. Who can meditate on his boundless offers of mercy and forgiveness without being filled with grateful admiration of the divine attributes? In the xith chap. of St. Matthew, 28th verse, we hear this most consoling invitation, “_Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest_.” It is impossible to appreciate fully the intrinsic value of these heavenly words; many times, in my own person, have I experienced their soothing effects on the pillow of sickness, and their tranquillizing power in moments of the keenest affliction: I wish, from my soul, that every one of you may derive as much happiness from those words as I have done.

The word of a mortal creature may deceive; but the promise of Christ, who died for our salvation, must stand: it is utterly impossible for any one, how incredulous soever he may pretend to be, to doubt that a single jot of God’s promises will be left unperformed.

With a firm conviction, then, of divine righteousness, let us piously meditate on the words of the text, and endeavour to apply to our minds the healing balm they convey. I shall explain, according to the best of my judgement, what preparation is most advisable and necessary to enable us to avail ourselves of this most gracious invitation. The first great step towards it is _Repentance_. By repentance I do not wish you to understand that fleeting and pitiful grief, which suffuses us in tears for the crimes of yesterday, and, soon evaporating, will allow us to-morrow to resume the practice of iniquity. The Almighty is not to be deceived by mockery and external show; “_A sacrifice to God is that of an humble and a contrite heart_;” nor will that temporary piety which is produced by distress or fear, render us acceptable before him: it is humility from a sense of our unworthiness, and profound contrition of heart for past offences, with sincere purpose of amendment, and a resolute determination to resist the slightest approach of temptation, and to return from the paths of evil, that will gain us favour in his sight.

If, with these sentiments in our minds, we supplicate the throne of mercy, we have every encouragement to confide in the divine clemency; for we are assured that “_None who come unto Christ will he in any wise cast out_[8].” Consoling promise! Suppose any one under sentence of death were offered a pardon, the errors of his past life to be for ever buried in oblivion, and honours and riches to be liberally bestowed upon him, on condition that he confessed his crime and pledged himself to lead a virtuous life in future; surely such a person must be considered mad, should he obstinately persist in guilt, and allow the sentence of the law to be carried into execution, when the means of preservation and of averting his dreadful fate were in his own hands! Let me ask any of you, whether you would not gladly have undertaken to renounce for ever those errors by which you were first led astray from the pleasing paths of virtue, to prevent your being now separated from your native country? Undoubtedly you would. Yet how trifling, how insignificant are loss of life and separation from the dearest objects of affection, compared with an eternal exile from your heavenly Father, and the destruction of the immortal soul! The thought is overwhelming.

There are some, unfortunately, to be found, who tell you their lives have been so bad, they have trespassed so frequently and so enormously, they have gone so far in vice, that it is useless to think of receding, as there can be no chance of their being saved, and that they may, therefore, as well go on to the end. Such is the degrading, humiliating language that sin dictates when it has attained its haughty ascendancy over the human mind, and influences every action. Let us follow these wretched creatures a step further in their senseless career; let us view them on a sick bed, which guilt has converted into a couch of torture; their fancied pleasures have vanished like a shadow, and the terrific prospect of a future state is forcibly and awfully presented to their distempered imagination; no relief is then in hope, because they had rejected it before. It has fallen to my lot more than once, nay more than twenty times, to witness the dying moments of men whose lives had been misspent; but I earnestly hope in the divine mercy, that I may never again be exposed to scenes where my feelings should be so torn as they were on those melancholy occasions. It is difficult to imagine any thing equal to the gloom and horror with which those miserable mortals viewed their approach to the presence of a just God from whom they expected no favour. Ten thousand worlds would they have given for a week, a day, even an hour, to be added to their existence on earth, an existence which sin and conscious guilt had rendered exquisitely wretched, and insupportable. It is really shocking to contemplate the situation of the hopeless sinner “whose ungodly race is nearly run, and he verging fast to the brink of eternity. The awful idea of meeting that God whom he has so often offended, tortures his already distracted mind. Conscience is at this moment his bitterest enemy, it fills his drooping heart with poignant remorse, and self-condemned, his hell begins even before life ends.” Infatuated, unthinking beings! how could guilty passions, or the allurements of sinful pleasures, so much blind your reason as never to allow you a moment of serious reflection on a future state, until you are incompassed by the jaws of death, until you hear those appalling words thunder in your ears, “Give an account of thy stewardship, for thou mayest be no longer steward!”

Let me admonish you, my friends, not to reserve repentance for a death-bed; depend upon it that the pangs of dissolution will be enough for human nature to bear, without adding the indescribable tortures of a troubled conscience: besides, the efficacy of repentance at the moment of death has been questioned, doubted, and denied by some of our ablest and most learned divines. In all cases of doubt or difficulty it is wise and prudent to choose the safe side; we have the declaration of the Saviour himself expressly, that “Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven[9].” We have, moreover, the divine authority that our efforts will receive divine aid, and be ultimately crowned with success. “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good things of the land; but if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured with the sword; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it[10].”

Hence you may clearly understand how all those who labour and are heavy laden may come unto Christ and find rest. Let me exhort you to implore unceasingly God’s mercy with penitent and humble hearts, and you will assuredly find comfort in your souls; for you will experience his bounteous mercy, ever open to receive and cherish the truly repentant wanderer. He is more ready to give than the sinner is to ask; in chap. lv. 7th verse of Isaiah, he says, “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return to the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.”

By keeping these consoling truths constantly before your minds, and losing not a moment in cultivating the precious opportunities of being reconciled to your heavenly Father, you will doubtless soon experience an ineffable delight and tranquillity infused into your souls: but, that great good being effected, I think it my duty to offer you some further advice, lest you should lose the advantages you will have acquired by repentance.

It would not, I think, be difficult to show, that even were there to be no future state, virtuous actions tend more, infinitely more, to promote our happiness in this world, than the most successful career of vice. For proofs of this assertion I will confidently appeal to the experience of your own lives. Let any one present look back to the days of peaceful innocence, and compare them with the present. Her meal may have been frugal, perhaps it was scanty, and necessity may have compelled her to unceasing toil; but conscious innocence secured a blessing, and diffused a comfort, that may be sought for in vain at the guilty banquet, or in the useless and baneful luxury of sinful dissipation. On this subject Dr Blair has with equal truth and beauty made the following apposite observations:

“Were the sinner bribed with any certain and unquestionable advantage, could the means he employs ensure his success, and could that ensure his comfort, he might have some apology for deviating from the paths of virtue. But he is not only liable to that disappointment of success, which so often frustrates all the designs of men, but also liable to a disappointment still more cruel, that of being successful and miserable at once. The advantages of this world, even when innocently gained, are uncertain blessings; when obtained by criminal means, they carry a curse in their bosom.”

I hope enough has been said to relieve your minds from all doubt as to the influence of religion on our happiness in this world and that which is to come. The sincere penitent is commanded to hope for salvation, and it is criminal to despair. “As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live; turn ye, turn ye from your evil way, for why will ye die, O house of Israel[11]?”

It is now time to direct our attention more immediately to the situation in which you are placed here as prisoners, and to point out the best possible means by which you may be not only comfortable, but comparatively respectable. It ought to afford you great gratification to hear that the means of obtaining both these desirable objects are perfectly and entirely within your own reach. Your behaviour during the short period of the present voyage will, in a great measure, decide your future destiny. The prospect before you may now wear a forlorn and gloomy aspect; some, perhaps, think they are inevitably consigned to shame and misery; but it shall be my care to lay before you a correct and more cheering view of the case. Call to your remembrance the consoling language of him whose blood was shed for the remission of all our sins, and cherish it in your hearts. “The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed[12].”

In the first place, I may assure you that the country to which you are going is healthy and delightful beyond description. New connexions and friendships may there be formed to supply the place of such as have been just dissolved; and to those who were plunged in vices which ruin both soul and body, separation at this instant is perhaps the greatest blessing that heaven could bestow: “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil;” so may those repeat with thanksgiving of heart who have been so unfortunate. An opportunity is now offered to bury in oblivion the errors of your past lives. The instructions furnished by Government require me to keep a journal, in which must be inserted the occurrences of every day; and whether the conduct of an individual be good or bad, it is imperiously my duty to record it as such. In this arduous task I shall have the watchful and zealous co-operation of Captain Brown; so that not the slightest movement can possibly take place without our immediate knowledge. This journal will be perused by the Governor of New South Wales before any of you can be admitted into his presence; and I do most sincerely hope that you will all leave it in my power to give such an account as will ensure for you his approbation and favour. In addition to this, it is my intention to present to the Governor a private list also of all those who behave eminently well, and strongly to recommend them to his friendly notice. I have the pleasure to inform you, for your encouragement, that, on a former occasion, there was not one whom I recommended in that manner that did not receive some mark of his kindness.

I am unwilling to wound the delicacy of any of you by adverting to a vice, the commission of which will imperatively and inevitably require the painful necessity of inflicting immediate punishment, and cut off every possibility of intercession with the Governor in behalf of the offender. I mean _prostitution_, a crime the enormity of which it is painful to explain, but which, it must be obvious, is peculiarly reprehensible and disgraceful to any one in your present unhappy situation, and of which, I trust, you all _now_ entertain a strong abhorrence. It is sufficient to know that it is a direct violation of the laws of God, of which I persuade myself in the hope that none of you can be ignorant. The words of God are expressly against it, and a single word from the divine authority is conclusive. “For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies; these are the things which defile a man[13].” “Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived; neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God[14].” In the fifth chapter to the Galatians, 19th and following verses, are these words: “Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revilings, and such like: of the which I tell you now, as I have also told you in time past, that they who do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God.” And again, in the 13th chapter to the Hebrews, and 4th verse, he says, “Marriage is honourable in all, and the bed undefiled; but whoremongers and adulterers God will judge.”

Reflect seriously on those tremendous denunciations of the vengeance of offended Heaven: give them the consideration their importance deserves. Put this question to yourselves individually: “Shall I gratify a gross and silly propensity, and thereby consign my immortal soul to perdition? or shall I resist the brutal importunity of a sensual human beast, and by a virtuous life ensure the inconceivable joys of an endless eternity?” O my friends! death and eternity are awful sounds to an unrepenting, woe-stricken sinner. Picture to yourselves the life of a prostitute, lost to shame, in the streets; abandoned by her seducer, and her soul harrowed by remorse for her fall from innocence, and the infamy of her abject state; her tender frame shrunk with the ceaseless gnawings of hunger; houseless, friendless and unpitied! After a little time, and a series of necessitous guilt, behold this metamorphosed wretch, almost consumed by disease, crawling into some dismal hovel to yield up her life of pain and sorrow, without a creature to administer the _last_ sad office of friendship. No father nor mother near to shed the hallowed tear of sympathetic commiseration! her undutiful behaviour most likely has sent them both to an untimely grave.—I cannot longer pursue the dreadful detail; my soul sickens and recoils from the contemplation of such complicated misery.

I can state, for your comfort, that I know of many women in New South Wales who are happily married, and mix in the most respectable society; and those estimable females were formerly unfortunate, and once placed in the same situation as yourselves. I think, were there no other inducement, the knowledge of this circumstance alone ought to stimulate you to the practice of morality and virtue. Should there be, however, any one present so hardened in guilt, so abandoned to all sense of propriety, as to persist in this profligate vice, I must now inform her that the utmost vigilance of both myself and Captain Brown will be directed to the detection of that odious violation of Christian propriety, and of our determination to restrain by prompt and efficient means its detestable occurrence. Although this painful portion of our duty shall be unremittingly attended to, as well as every other inviolably discharged, still it is my desire that you should apprehend no unnecessary measures of severity; do not deserve them; but rather look to me, as your friend anxious to promote your comforts; and from the humane attention of the commander, I am confident you may anticipate so much alleviation as is in his power to bestow. If you have any complaints or grievances at _any_ time, make them known to me immediately, and you may rest assured that it will always afford me pleasure to redress them to the utmost of my power. You shall have every indulgence that can possibly be granted; my happiness will be increased by seeing you all comfortable; but I must solemnly declare myself an enemy to the vice above mentioned, nor will I allow the commission of it to escape punishment.

To snatch from the overwhelming gulf of destruction an unthinking, unrepenting fellow-being, is a duty which I owe to my God, to my country, to humanity, and to myself: to that effect shall my utmost efforts be ever exerted, so long as Providence spares me the power of exertion.

I sincerely hope you will not allow the foregoing observations to be lost or thrown away: if you treasure them in your hearts, and make a right application of them, they will give life to feelings of pleasure and self-approbation in moments of affliction; and at the hour of death, a consolation which the united riches of the earth could not purchase. If I can be the instrument, under Heaven, of rendering you any real service, and leading your minds to a just sense of religion and virtuous action, the feelings of my own heart will be a rich reward for any pains it may cost me: whether I succeed or fail in my endeavours, the consciousness of having faithfully discharged my duty (which with regard to you I consider most weighty in a moral sense), to the best of my ability, will console me through life, and in the close will accompany my spirit to another and, I hope, a happier world.

One word further for your good. In the treasures of the sacred Scriptures you will find exhaustless sources of comfort to your souls; for which purpose copies of the Holy Bible will be distributed amongst you, and the use each of you shall be observed to make of it will be _strictly_ recorded in the journal.

THOMAS REID.

* * * * *

25th.—At noon this day Mrs. Pryor came on board; and after expressing her regret for the disorderly conduct of the female prisoners, previously to their leaving Newgate, and reproving them for their ingratitude in that respect, as well as the injury their unruly behaviour had done to the cause of benevolence, she distributed a considerable number of check aprons to each, with haberdashery and other needful articles. Having performed this charitable act, she examined the prison, hospital, &c., and was much pleased with the regularity that every where prevailed. She then read to them a suitable portion of Scripture, and dismissed them with good moral advice.

Two women from York were brought on board, and a few minutes afterwards three more from Winchester.

This forenoon I had the messes arranged, also the sleeping-places allotted, the bedding, bags, and other things belonging to the convicts permanently marked, to prevent confusion and irregularity hereafter; I also distributed to each individual some religious book or tract.

At 6 P. M. three women from Newcastle were brought, one of whom was old, and so infirm as to require assistance to get up the ship’s side. About 7, a person arrived, saying he had brought four children belonging to Browning Owen, a convict, but had left them at Woolwich, being uncertain whether they would be received on board. One of them unfortunately happened to be three years above the age permitted by the Secretary of State. The case of this poor woman seems one of aggravated distress: About nine months since, her husband incited her to commit crime; and, after involving her in guilt and misery, left her with a helpless family without a friend in the world. Her conduct having been exceedingly good since she came on board, induced me to lay a statement of her case before Mr. Capper, for the consideration of the Secretary of State, whose benevolence granted permission for all the children to be embarked and accompany their mother.

26th.—The whole of this day has been spent in arranging the messes and sleeping-places of several convicts who arrived from various prisons. Opportunity was taken to impress upon their minds the necessity of good conduct during the voyage, and the advantages that would assuredly result from such behaviour. Many of the women who arrived to-day, as well as some who had been heretofore received, appeared to think that the most licentious behaviour would be the surest plan to procure countenance and favour in a ship: this opinion was indicated by the flighty actions and indecorous expressions of a great many of them, at the very first moment they got on board. It is hardly necessary to say, that in these deviations from rectitude they were always interrupted with rebuke or admonition, as the occasion best required, and always with immediate good effects; those lately arrived usually taking their tone of conduct from those already under the influence of discipline.

It affords me great gratification to be able to state that considerable progress already appears to have been made in the moral system. The first three or four nights after the women began to increase in number, I was mortified to hear among them, after they had been locked up for the night, songs of a licentious and wicked nature: but in every case of such occurrence, when taking the female the next day to task for the part she had performed, and representing to her in the kindest manner the impropriety of such practices, they have been discontinued, and during the last two nights there has occurred in the prison nothing of which the best regulated family need be ashamed.

27th.—Nothing can exceed the regularity that prevails in the prison; not a whisper having been heard, or any singing last night. At 11 A. M. I selected a sermon out of Dr. Blair’s, and read it to them, explaining, to the best of my power, such parts of it as they appeared not to understand, and expressed my approbation of their conduct respecting those things in which I expected an amendment. After this, pamphlets on subjects of devotion were delivered to the women who arrived yesterday, together with a copy of my Address, and a religious tract to each of the others. They were reminded of the Prison Regulations, and enjoined a close observance of them.

About 5 this evening, there arrived three convicts from Shrewsbury, two from Carlisle, and four from Lancaster, all of whom were cold and wet, the day having been rainy and exceedingly boisterous. They were ordered to change their clothes, and after some refreshment to retire to rest.

In the course of this day I took occasion to speak privately to three or four young, giddy creatures, whom I had observed conversing rather familiarly with some of the sailors, and exhorted them to shun every approach to intimacy with those men. They all expressed their grateful thanks for the private and delicate manner in which this advice was communicated, and promised solemnly that I should not again have occasion to reprove them upon the same subject.

28th.—Eighteen women have arrived to-day, some of whom while alongside in the boats, and even after they came on board, exhibited violent indications of riotous conduct. Those of mischievous disposition were principally from Lancaster. It required much to convince them that such behaviour would meet with certain and serious punishment; and at length they yielded to remonstrance, becoming somewhat orderly.

About half past 12 five convicts arrived from Ilchester, of a more decent and modest appearance than any yet seen, and their demeanour was such as to excite a hope that in them at least virtue may be found not entirely extinguished. Having observed some of the prisoners making advances towards an intimacy with the sailors, I checked them at the moment, and afterwards admonished the thoughtless creatures, privately, against every thing of that kind, and advised them to have a watchful guard over themselves in future.

29th.—Eight prisoners arrived to-day from different country prisons; the conduct of three or four of them, as they approached the ship, was wild, extravagant, and disgusting, from its singular wickedness and disregard of shame: this, however, was readily suppressed the moment they came on board.

Our number is now nearly complete, and the behaviour of all is kept within such good bounds that moral feeling and good order generally prevail, and life is given to the pleasing hope that success will attend the endeavours made to lead those deluded and unfortunate women back to virtue.

30th.—Shortly after retiring to rest last night, I was called up to go to the prison, whence, I was informed, very alarming cries and violent screams were issuing. I found most of the women so much frightened, as to make it difficult to ascertain from any one of them what had occasioned their trepidation. At length, the assertions of several gave me reason to believe, that some one of the convicts had out of frolic walked round the prison, and touched the faces of some of them with her cold hand. I treated the whole as an affair of no note, rather as the effects of imagination; but at the same time severely reprobated the idle attempt at disturbing the hours of sleep; and assured them that any recurrence of the kind would be visited with marks of severe displeasure.

At 11 A. M. this day, Sunday, I read a sermon in the prison, and expressed a merited approbation of their general conduct, with a view to show them that I was anxious to find cause for commendation rather than censure; thus to make them, on their side, desirous to merit good opinion, as out of this endeavour I hoped to see good order result. Afterwards I distributed religious books and tracts to all those who had not been previously supplied.

_May_ 1st.—About 10 A. M. Mrs. Pryor came on board, and distributed amongst forty of the prisoners, two aprons, a black cap, a canvas bag, a pair of scissors, and articles of haberdashery to each as presents. This donation was accompanied by sound moral instruction, delivered with the kindness of maternal advice, and conveyed in language of encouragement, which seemed to produce the intended effect on all to whom it was addressed: from the impression it made upon their minds, of which I was a silent and minute observer, it may be fairly said, that not one of those unhappy females was insensible at least to what they heard, or withheld the tear of penitence and sorrow, more precious in the resolution to amend.

At 11 A. M. Captain Young paid us a visit; and, after inspecting the state of the prisoners very attentively, expressed his approbation of every thing that had been done, in terms somewhat more marked than those of common place assent.

Some little misunderstanding and trifling squabbles took place between some of the prisoners this day, which on inquiring into, when the momentary fervour had subsided, were readily adjusted to the satisfaction of all the parties. Occurrences of this nature are to be expected in a community in which inclinations and habits so diversified must coalesce so as to form something like one mind uniformly obedient to a settled authority.

It was also found necessary to remonstrate privately in a more serious manner with some of the women, whom I observed at times conversing familiarly with the sailors. Such familiarities, although at present perhaps divested of criminal intention, might, if not discountenanced in time, lose their character of innocence, and lead to more intimate and censurable acquaintance. It is justly considered more easy by far, and better, to prevent crimes, than to seek redress or atonement for them after they have been committed.

2nd.—This morning, before the prisoners had breakfasted or were allowed to come upon deck, I took an opportunity of addressing a few short observations to them collectively, by way of general admonition; in which I expressed a strong disapprobation of the light and thoughtless behaviour of some of them towards the sailors. I pointed out the decided rule on this head in the Prison Regulations; explained the delicate manner in which it was expressed, and informed them, that, notwithstanding that delicacy, my determination in that regard was peculiarly strong. I stated, that I had observed with much concern the misconduct of six or seven, who seemed unmindful of the regulation; and assured them that a repetition of such folly would impose on me the very painful necessity of excluding such offenders from the privilege of the deck, and be productive of other unpleasant consequences. This timely admonition called forth their serious attention, and all evinced its effects in a satisfactory manner; all became silence, order, industry, and decorous reserve.

Such indeed did their demeanour appear to some gentlemen who visited Captain Brown in the course of the day, that it was facetiously observed, “Half the same number of fashionables at a ball or rout would render a drawing-room more noisy than the Morley was at that time.”

3rd.—Nothing of a novel nature has this day occurred in the behaviour of the convicts. One prisoner was brought in from Coventry, and some of the free passengers with their children came on board.

About 4 P. M. Mr. CAPPER paid us a visit; and having minutely inspected the prison, and conversed with several of the prisoners, he expressed his entire approbation of what he saw.

6th.—Nothing of importance has occurred since last report. Quietness and decorum appear now manifestly to result from the system laid down: and so far has it answered my expectations, and so subjected are they already to discipline, that within the last two days a frown expressive of my displeasure has been sufficient to prevent every impropriety.

At 11 A. M. Mrs. Pryor and Mrs. Coventry, accompanied by the Solicitor to the Bank of England, came on board. _The Solicitor was commissioned by the Bank Company to make a present of five pounds to every woman who had been convicted of uttering forged notes, or of having them in possession._ The amount of the money thus gratuitously expended in favour of the unhappy women, was two hundred and five pounds sterling, there being _forty-one_ persons at this time sent out of the country for that offence alone.

This donation to the female convicts,—for it is not given to males in the same predicament,—has, I am informed, existed for a considerable time, and doubtless originated in worthy feelings,—to alleviate in some degree the distresses and want brought upon them by their prosecution. Whilst one is compelled to approve this philanthropic condescension in favour of these unfortunate creatures, many of them surrounded by groups of children, a suggestion naturally forces itself into consideration, how far such a proceeding is consistent with political or moral propriety. It may be asked, Is honest principle encouraged by such gratuity? Is the offender moved to reformation by such an inducement, or is the property of the donors rendered more secure by their postliminious generosity?

The prosecutions carried on by the Bank of England for many years past, for forged imitations of their notes, are too much matter of perfect notoriety. The victims, as well male as female, that have been immolated to the demon of gain, have been accumulated to a truly appalling amount. Human nature shudders at the numerous sacrifices offered on this altar. Although the Bank, it is asserted, virtually lose nothing, still the Moloch is to be appeased; and the Druidical idols mentioned by Julius Cæsar, in which numbers of human beings were burned alive, were not more rapacious than this remorseless spirit. The cry of blood has at length ascended, and good men are startled at this destructive system: to the eternal credit of later Bank Directors, those sanguinary proceedings have been in a great measure relaxed. In cases now of simply uttering forged notes, unless under circumstances of an aggravating character, upon trial, the judgement Not Guilty to the capital charge is admitted upon the plea of Guilty to the minor offence of having them in possession knowing them to be so: thus many lives are saved under that certain conviction which would subject them to death: their punishment on the latter plea is, in general, Transportation for fourteen years to New South Wales.

The two ladies with bountiful hands dispensed their truly charitable gifts among those prisoners whom they had not before supplied; and the countenances of these unfortunates, gratefully affected by being thus noticed in their outcast state, gave stronger evidence of their feelings than could have been conveyed by the most successful eloquence.

About 2 P. M. Mr. Brown, Governor of Newgate, came on board, and gave to each of the women who came from that prison, half a crown, from what fund I know not; and I am equally unacquainted with what motive, or for what object, the donation was made. The effects produced by it, which were almost instantaneously developed, would argue very unfavourably of its consequences, as, almost the moment after that trifle was received, general misunderstanding took place among them, and this was followed by blows before I could interpose and put an end to the affray. The termination of this disgraceful scene was effected only by confining the combatants from each other, (two of them were sisters,) and allowing the irritation to subside: afterwards representing how improper and disgraceful their behaviour had been, they showed proofs of shame and contrition, which I am inclined to hope will long secure me from the pain of witnessing such another scene.

In the afternoon I collected the Monitors of all the messes, and explained the line of conduct I expected them to follow during the voyage, and admonished them to secure obedience from their respective messes by showing themselves a good example; to each Monitor I then delivered a Bible, Prayer Book, New Testament, and Psalter, for the use of the mess to which each belonged.

7th.—This day passed in uninterrupted tranquillity, and the utmost regard to good order was observable amongst the convicts. At 11 A. M. I read a moral discourse to them, and addressed some pointed animadversions on the occurrence of the preceding day, which affected the whole of them most sensibly, and the offenders, with tears, expressed their sincere compunction for the misconduct of which they had been guilty, giving every assurance that the like should not again take place.

8th.—At 10 A. M. I mustered all the children, and arranged them in classes for the purpose of carrying into effect the intentions of the Ladies’ Committee with respect to the formation of a school, for which they had taken special care to provide a woman, one of the free passengers, as a teacher; and had also furnished a very liberal provision of juvenile books of every suitable description. Mrs. Pryor visited this morning and distributed useful gifts among the prisoners, and some also among the free passengers.

About noon Mrs. Fry came on board; and, having inspected the state of the prisoners, had those from Newgate assembled separately, and addressed them in the most feeling manner respecting their conduct when leaving Newgate. This discourse had visibly great effect, which appeared strongly impressed upon their minds. Observing the remarkable order maintained in this unfortunate community, this lady hinted that some preparation must have been made previously to her coming on board: to this I could not avoid remarking, in reply, that such was by no means the case, for the history of one hour’s conduct of those women might serve as the history of a month. This remark I thought due in strict justice to their merits; nor could it be considered at all complimentary, as not one of them was present at the moment.

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.

* * * * *

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.

The example of Sidney Williams was followed by many others, to the number of twenty nearly, who have also undertaken to commit the same address to memory, in expectation of gaining the proposed reward. I must not omit to mention here another trait of improvement noticed and reported to me by Captain Brown:—Within the last few days some of the younger convicts, who appeared more volatile than others, were in the habit of using sacred words in ordinary conversation, not as oaths, but as harmless expletives: but now, however, all such expressions have been laid aside.

18th.—Sunday.—The weather being fine, the convicts were assembled on deck, and a sermon read to them by the Reverend Mr. Reddall, to which they gave undivided attention, and appeared to acknowledge the force of the arguments by correspondent feeling. After sermon I addressed them in a concise exhortation on the necessity of frequent self-examination, urging its important advantages in the guidance of every part of their conduct, and have reason to hope the admonition was not lost upon them.

Having long considered that some mode of keeping their minds in constant action could not fail of producing good moral effects, and as a state of idleness had been generally attended with injurious consequences when they were imprisoned in England, it appeared to me manifest that nothing could be more desirable than to devise some means of producing that activity with as little delay as possible. As every day now seemed to bring forth in their conduct the dawning of some good quality which had been obscured in the darkness of their former lives, and as their minds appeared strongly attached to religious reflection, I thought it most expedient to employ them in committing to memory some short moral or religious composition, proposing, as an inducement, a copy of the Bible with the name of the successful candidate for the first place of merit, in my own hand-writing; and to the two next, a copy of some religious book, one to each, marked in the same manner; also to the next seven, another small favour, with a similar mark of approbation.

I further informed them, that an account of their success should be entered in the journal with their respective names, which would be submitted to the Governor at Sydney, backed with particular commendation from myself, as they deserved; and that a copy of those names should also be transmitted to London. They unanimously and cheerfully presented themselves in competition for the proposed reward; and I had the pleasure of understanding that many would undertake the task purely from a sense of duty, and gratitude for the care which they experienced during the voyage. This latter feeling was evinced by many of the Newgate prisoners, among whom I was particularly gratified in seeing Sidney Williams. The change in this girl is astonishing, not only as it regards herself individually, but as her altered conduct serves as an useful lesson and example to others.

I cannot refrain from repeating my firm conviction, that the very best consequences would be found to result, during the voyage to New South Wales, were the convicts provided with means of constant employment in some useful and light way befitting their sex; as I find uniformly their minds much more tractable and obedient when they are so employed. One obvious benefit would attend such a provision,—they would thereby, having their attention profitably engaged, avoid allurements to improper or useless conversation, and would rather turn their thoughts, as these do at present, to religious or moral subjects. This latter intention might be promoted by grouping the workers into certain classes, according to their employment, and appointing one of their number best qualified to read from some edifying book, instructive discourses, or such passages of moral entertainment as might be selected for that purpose; in time, use would render this custom familiar and pleasing.

Some time after the women had been sent below this evening,—which is a proceeding always observed at a certain hour, and attended to by them with the utmost decorum,—Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Reddall walking on deck to enjoy the delightful cool, which was made more pleasing by moonlight and a gentle breeze,—their ears were struck with agreeable sounds coming from the prison. On approaching cautiously, not to disturb any person below, they found the sounds were produced by several of the women singing hymns in symphony in a very low key. The stillness of the hour, and the contrast of a religious exercise of that pleasing character among women heretofore the objects of pity, punishment, or contempt, were calculated to produce a combined effect of the most satisfactory kind.

20th.—At 9 this morning a complaint was made against Mary James for abusing a fellow prisoner without provocation. On investigating the case, the statement was found to be correct, and also that she had wantonly used the most foul and disgusting language. I represented to her the impropriety of such behaviour, and rebuked her for it, threatening her with punishment if it were repeated. So far from expressing any regret for her irregularity, she declared her intention to do so as often as any one gave her cause, nor would she listen to the consequences of such insubordination. She was proceeding with some indecent and offensive language in my presence, and would not desist in spite of every remonstrance. I therefore tied her hands and gagged her, declaring she should not be loosed until she returned to a proper sense of her duty. In about an hour afterwards, she signified deep sorrow for her error; on which she was immediately released, and pardoned formally on promise of more regular behaviour in future. At noon the prison, having been cleaned out as usual, was sprinkled with vinegar.

21st.—This day was given to cleaning and fumigating the prison. Being desirous to let the women have the benefit of bathing, the _tub_ was sent below for that purpose, but was found rather large for admission by the doors; which being of slight materials, and hastily put together, were unable to withstand the most trifling shock, and were, consequently, much shaken and injured by forcing in the bathing-tub. This is not the only instance in which the carpentry work of the prison was found deficient;—the locks are usually of the commonest kind, and insecure, as well as liable to be put out of order by the most simple accident,—even by the pressure of the adjacent woodwork, when the vessel happens to roll heavily.

22nd.—At 11 this day, according to custom, I read a sermon to the convicts, whose whole behaviour on the occasion merited praise. In their general conduct they are decent and orderly, while their constant cheerfulness makes them appear not to feel their separation from former acquaintance very heavily. Many of the prisoners are every day employed in working straw plait, and in various other light occupations, such as sewing and knitting,—the materials of which were supplied by the Ladies’ Committee.

23rd. Many of the women are attacked with inflammatory fever.

25th.—Sunday. This day severe illness prevented me from reading to the prisoners according to custom; and, as I was confined to bed, the Reverend Mr. Reddall kindly officiated on the occasion, and read to them one of his own sermons, their attention to which afforded much satisfaction. Mr. Reddall alluding to my illness, excited strong marks of feeling and concern amongst them on that account. In the afternoon I made an effort to see the sick persons, and administered the necessary remedies.

26th.—The inflammatory fever has been subdued in the cases mentioned, and the other patients in the hospital are doing well. The women are constantly engaged upon deck in the usual industrious employments.

27th.—This day passed as heretofore in the most orderly and decent manner on the part of the prisoners, although my illness interrupted that watchfulness which I wished invariably to observe. Their conduct, indeed, has been so uniformly correct as to present a sameness of record too tiresome, were it not for the pleasure afforded by witnessing their regular advancement in those principles of religion and virtue which I was anxious to see established in full influence amongst them.

This evening, after the beds had been sent below, a scene of rather a novel nature presented itself, and served to convince me that perfection had not as yet been attained by the convicts. The circumstance is inserted, as presenting an alteration of feature in this journal, rather than from its appearing seriously worthy of notice. Ann Williams being in familiar conversation with the elder Farrell, had contrived to pick her pocket, but was instantly detected; when all the bitter upbraiding of Farrell’s merciless tongue was levelled at the delinquent. This was resented in a way rather rude, as soon as they were all sent below to bed; and the clamour brought Captain Brown and the Reverend Mr. Reddall to the spot, when the assailant was secured, and tied up during the night, and every thing became tranquil.

28th.—On opening the prison this morning at daylight, according to custom, I released Williams without speaking much to her, reserving my observations until my health might allow of the exertion. The women have been all this day grave, silent, and evidently concerned for the occurrences of last evening.

29th.—This day Samuel Brown, a convict’s child, died in the hospital; and the funeral service having been read as usual by the Reverend Mr. Reddall, the body was committed to the deep. At 11 A. M. the same gentleman read a moral discourse to the women, at which, though extremely ill, I endeavoured to be present, and, after it was ended, addressed them briefly on the very disgraceful conduct of some of them on Tuesday evening. My observations were tempered with mildness, and were chiefly directed to the warm concern which I was informed they had expressed for my illness, which I assured them had made a strong impression on my mind. I exhorted them to persevere in good and virtuous conduct; as, to see them moral, and happy from that cause, was my greatest comfort; that the only reward I sought was that very sense of gratitude which they had shown for my attentions, and that, so long as health would permit, I should exert myself for their welfare. They all appeared orderly, attentive, and respectful, and seemed generally to censure the conduct of the late offenders.

30th.—Frequent squalls, with rain, occurring this day, kept the prisoners for the greater part below, where they were all usefully employed, and such as had no work to do, filled up the vacant hours by religious reading.

_July_ 2nd.—Sunday. This day the Reverend Mr. Reddall read a sermon on deck to the women, at which I endeavoured to be present, although my state of health was very indifferent. The orderly behaviour of the women, and their decent, and even neat appearance, afforded me much pleasure.

6th.—The preceding four days have passed in uninterrupted tranquillity;—not a single circumstance having occurred to excite disapprobation. It is extremely gratifying to observe little groups of the prisoners, both in the prison and upon deck, reading the Scriptures, and devoutly worshiping their Maker. At first many of them showed considerable reluctance and shyness to be seen in acts of devotion; but that false shame has happily disappeared. This day, at the usual hour, I read to them a sermon, which was followed by an exhortation by the Reverend Mr. Reddall of a serious, impressive, and appropriate nature.

8th.—The occurrences of these two days correspond with those of the preceding, except that hence a manifest argument for the necessity of employment among the convicts may be drawn, as to the advantages obtainable by daily occupation, in the singular alteration for the better in the conduct of Ann Newton, who, since she commenced working articles of straw manufacture, seems entirely to have lost her disposition to licentious romping and careless expressions, for which she, more than any of her companions, used to be remarked. Her demeanour now is much more steady, and that activity of mind which would have vented itself in mischief, is now in a very particular manner directed to industry; her appearance also, which used to be that of a slattern, and exhibited almost a studied want of cleanliness, is become, even in her plainest dress, neat and decent;—every thing about her, in fact, bespeaks a marked amendment. Another circumstance in the conduct of this young woman is particularly deserving of notice; she every day chooses a retired seat apart from her companions, where she assiduously pursues her work in silence and remarkable reserve, yet appearing cheerful and contented.

9th.—This day, Sunday, being wet and uncomfortable, the prisoners were unable to enjoy the advantages of the air on deck, as usual; and this disappointment seemed to be felt considerably, as they had all dressed themselves very neatly, many wearing new dresses which they had made up during the week. At the accustomed hour the Reverend Mr. Reddall accompanied me to the prison, where he read to them an excellent discourse written for the occasion, on the advantages arising from perseverance in “well-doing,” which contained some affecting allusions to their situation, of which they testified the most lively feeling, particularly of gratitude towards their good friends of the Committee, and all those whose kind attentions were exerted for their welfare. I offered a few observations approving of their general conduct, and holding out inducements for further improvement: the burst of strong feeling universally expressed throughout this penitent community was overwhelming; their sobs and tears were to me the best reward I could possibly be presented with, nor could I proceed without a painful emotion mingled with pleasure. Were the benevolent ladies, who have done so much for these poor contrite sufferers, then present, they would doubtless have been much gratified. These women are no longer the wild and abandoned creatures known throughout the prisons of England;—they are now an orderly company, more like sisters in one family than persons thrown together by accident or misfortune.

13th.—Throughout the last few days the weather has continued boisterous, cold, and wet, proving extremely uncomfortable to the prisoners; for which reason they mostly remain below, exercising themselves in such work as they can,—cleaning the prison and making every thing dry and snug about them. The greater number were engaged at times to-day in learning hymns, or reciting, and afterwards singing them with grave attention. It having blown a violent gale during the night, they were all greatly harassed, and many of them are still seriously alarmed by the extraordinary rolling of the ship.

At the accustomed hour I read to them a short discourse, and followed it up with some observations applicable to the state of their fears on the preceding night, with which they were much affected. As a mark of approbation for their care in studying the hymns, and so laudably singing them, one copy of Watts’s Collection of Hymns was given to each mess, accompanied with such remarks as were likely to confirm their pious purposes. This little favour was gladly and gratefully received: hence the full assurance that they will derive much benefit from having those small books, as they have ever since been collected in groups to hear them read.

As further marks of encouragement, I distributed among the most deserving some more straw, and such other materials for industry as had been supplied by the Committee: from their great diligence in working these, I feel the more strongly impressed with a conviction of the propriety and necessity of putting on board for the voyage a sufficient quantity of materials to provide constant employment for the convicts on the passage to the colony. The best proof of this is the superior correctness of conduct manifested by such as are so employed, even on the present very limited scale.

14th.—This day the prisoners were confined below by the severity of the weather, the wind still continuing to blow a heavy gale. Their situation was rendered the more uncomfortable, from the wet occasioned by the sea sometimes breaking over the netting, and making its way into the prison: besides, the wind having carried away the cover of the boiler, it became very difficult, almost impossible, to get any thing cooked: to those little hardships, however, they submitted without a murmur. An extra allowance of wine was issued, to relieve as much as possible these inconveniences.

15th.—Nothing of importance has occurred this day. The weather having become more favourable, the convicts were employed in cleaning the decks of the prison, and making themselves as comfortable as possible.

16th. Sunday.—The Rev. Mr. Reddall and Captain Brown accompanied me this day to the prison, where Mr. Reddall read to the convicts a discourse on the conversion of St. Paul. Some thoughts having suggested themselves as appropriately applying to their immediate condition, I offered a few brief observations to that effect, which I have reason to hope were heard by them with serious interest.

A recent circumstance may here be introduced, to show the happy influence already extending over the minds of these forlorn females. Mary Hough, one of those sent from Stockport, was married to a man of dissolute character, who not only, as she asserted, induced her to commit the offence for which she was sentenced to her present punishment, but had taken up with another female, whose misfortune in knowing him was similar to her own; for the same woman is also a convict in this ship, with a young child by the same man, of which she was pregnant at the time of her commitment to prison. Mary Hough was at first, she acknowledges, full of resentment and rage against this unfortunate woman; but she has latterly become so altered in her mind, from the effects of religious exercises, that she has made the most sincere declarations of forgiveness to the object of her jealous enmity, and even sends a part of her own ration of wine to assist the poor mother in supporting the infant in health. This Hough is exemplary in her behaviour, and frequently expresses anxious wishes for her wicked husband’s reformation.

17th.—The sameness which has hung over the reports in the preceding weeks, has at length met some variation from an occurrence which has just taken place. In consequence of a regulation which had been long organized and established, I had, at the earliest moment possible after opening the prison this morning, intelligence of a transaction which happened shortly after last midnight. During yesterday a secret arrangement, it appears, had been made by three of the sailors, in pursuance of which they watched a convenient opportunity of going down to the prison-door at the fore hatchway, which is always secured with two locks, and there endeavoured to open a passage for three of the convicts, Ann Farrell, Ann Newton, and Ann Harwood, who had consented to accompany them below. After some feeble endeavours, the sailors, fearing detection, desisted, and retired in savage disappointment.

Having received this information, on the truth of which I could rely, I lost not an instant to confer with Captain Brown, who offered the most prompt assistance. I sent for the three offending prisoners, who, with the utmost plausibility and perseverance, insisted that they had no participation in the design. Being, however, convinced of their criminal intention in the affair, I placed them in strict confinement, positively forbidding any one of them to appear again on deck during the remainder of the voyage; which must operate upon them as a heavy punishment.

The greatest precautions were used at the same time, by Captain Brown, to place a grating, and more secure fastenings, over the hatchway, where the attempt had been made; and more strict regulations were issued for the conduct of the sailors. It may be recollected that Newton, one of the offenders in the present instance, had lately shown strong inclination to amendment, having applied herself assiduously to working straw-plait; but, unfortunately, the materials being all worked up, the mischief of idleness returned upon her volatile disposition, and the effects are, her being involved in the above improper conspiracy. Let this suffice, without further comment, to prove the unhappy consequences that result from the convicts not having means of permanent employment during the voyage.

19th.—This morning a woman, who conducted herself throughout the voyage with exemplary propriety, solicited my protection against the insulting abuse and infamous threats of two of the sailors, which she declared had been quite unprovoked. Having investigated the case, I found her statement correct. These fellows, who had attempted to break into the prison on the night of the 16th, believing it was this woman who communicated to me the facts of that infamous transaction, took this opportunity of venting their low malice against her, using the most dreadful oaths and imprecations, that they would throw her overboard before the voyage was over; or that they would most certainly kill her in the colony; one of them at the same time seizing her as if he was about to put the threat into execution.

I soothed the poor woman’s alarms, as well I could, with promises of protection to the utmost of my ability, and represented the affair to Captain Brown, declaring to him, that any injury done to the prisoners should be followed with punishment, to the utmost extent and rigour of the law, on our arrival in the colony:—from him I experienced the most ready and friendly co-operation, in no degree marked by the lukewarm impulse of mere duty, but by the elevated principle of moral rectitude. He represented to the men what I had said, and assured them, that such disgraceful and unmanly behaviour should not only be discountenanced, but be visited with all the punishment he had the power to inflict. Unfortunately, however, in vessels of this description, the law has provided no remedy against the most unbridled licentiousness; and sailors may, in fact, commit any crime short of mutiny, or injury to the ship’s concerns, without the least apprehension of penal consequences, while they almost always act up fully to the extent of this unreasonable immunity.

The rest of the prisoners expressed their feelings respecting the misconduct of the three thoughtless females in terms of bitter indignation;—they declared such behaviour unworthy and disgraceful to beings on whom such care had been lavished. Scoffs and insults from every part of the prison were poured on the now mournful offenders, who complained piteously of their sufferings, and declared they were so wretched that life was not worth preserving. I had to entreat and command the others to desist from persecuting them; but on this occasion my authority had weight no longer than I was present to enforce it, although on every other occasion my orders met with the most prompt obedience. To screen them from personal violence, and preserve peace among them, I found it necessary to remove the offenders into the hospital. This circumstance proved the strong feeling that habit, if not a better state of mind, had given birth to.

20th.—An effort was made last night, by two of the sailors, to break into the prison, to communicate with the three girls in confinement; but it does not appear that any effort on their side was made to encourage such proceeding: one of the fellows threw down a letter through an opening in the deck made for the admission of air to the hospital, but it was torn without having been read. I have strong expectations that these weak creatures are becoming again sincerely steady, having conversed with them almost every hour since their separation from the others, and found them constantly in tears, without expressing a wish to have their confinement relaxed.

At noon, Captain Brown and the Rev. Mr. Reddall accompanied me to the prison, where I read a sermon, and made a few remarks, approving of their prudent behaviour in avoiding such solicitations as had involved the others in the disgrace of the late transaction, and commending them for the reserve shown generally towards those who sought only to lead them again astray from virtuous obedience. I advised them also to cultivate that peaceful and friendly disposition towards one another, which heretofore formed so praiseworthy a feature in the character of their little community. This appeared to allay all acrimonious feeling, and appease every discontent: a spirit of harmony is again restored, to experience, it is hoped, no further interruption: still, however, it seems prudent, under every consideration of the circumstances, to keep the three offenders in duresse.

23rd.—These last three days proceeded without any further annoyance from the sailors, who appear to conduct themselves with a greater regard to decency, acting more under controul, seemingly, than might be expected from persons ignorant in the extreme of moral virtue, slaves to their passions, and amenable in scarcely any degree to discipline of any form, evidently aware of their power to act in every manner as suits their inclination. The exertions of Captain Brown, in finding the sailors constant employment, which their selfishness forbids them to refuse, and the vigilance constantly exercised over both them and the women, have changed the scene very much for the better.

The conduct of the three secluded females is, generally speaking, marked with sincere repentance, their manner being sorrowful and extremely submissive. Their confinement is still continued, in order to keep them in this state of mind, and to render the amendment already manifested secure and permanent. They were admitted to-day into the prison, and had the benefit of a religious discourse and exhortation from the Rev. Mr. Reddall, at which Captain Brown attended. The little assembly was remarkable for an appearance of cleanliness, and their demeanour showed evident signs of advancement in religious and moral feeling. It is barely justice to them to say, that in no part of the voyage had I greater reason to approve of their conduct, than since the affair of their three companions took place.

After sermon I spoke a few words, recommending to their strict attention the subject of the sermon they had just heard, adding a very brief admonition on their religious duties generally, to which they gave a marked and silent hearing: that they carry these things constantly in mind, is evident from the tenour of all their actions, almost every one of them being seen occupied with some of the religious books given them; nor is levity of manner in the slightest degree observable amongst them.

This day I had the pleasure of conferring the promised mark of approbation, proposed some time since, as a reward to the one who should first commit to memory the address with which the voyage was commenced. It is peculiarly gratifying to say, that the successful candidate is Sidney Williams, who, it may be recollected, was characterized in most alarming colours for her conduct in Newgate. Now, however, let the change in her behaviour be considered, and surely every one who loves to see the erring sinner reclaimed, advancing first in the path to virtue and excellence, must feel a sympathy in her misfortunes, and rejoice in her extraordinary recovery from wickedness.

On Friday last this girl applied to me with modest confidence to repeat the Address, requesting me to hear her in the attempt; which being complied with, she recited it with ease and accuracy. I deferred to give the promised reward till the present day; and after sermon I called Sidney Williams forward by name (a circumstance quite unusual), and having read aloud the inscription, which, according to promise, was in my own hand-writing, I presented her with a large copy of the Bible, accompanying it with expressions of warm approbation, and of encouragement to further virtuous endeavours. The effect of this little affair upon the other prisoners was, as it were, electric: they hastened to give assurances of their desire for the like distinction, but at the same time expressed no envy of Sidney Williams’s success.

27th.—This day, Thursday, at the usual hour, I read a sermon to the prisoners: the behaviour of all was as usual sedate and attentive. Their minds seem now, as far as it can be discerned, completely abstracted from all those pernicious subjects of a vicious nature which formerly occupied their thoughts, and a fixed and settled manner, according to their various tempers, characterizes every one of them. The three offenders were admitted to the sermon, and their appearance is quite lowly, and strongly bespeaks repentance. Every means that can be resorted to is employed to prevail on me to alter their sentence, and withdraw the prohibition of their appearing upon deck, promising the most rigid observance of decorum and prudent conduct, if once more tried:—but, every circumstance being duly considered, it appears most advisable to continue them still longer in their present place of security.

28th.—The behaviour of the prisoners continues orderly, sedate, and tranquil; all seeming anxious to arrive at their destination, rather from a desire to commence industrious and honest occupations than from a weariness of the voyage. Their whole conduct is such as to call forth approbation in every instance; and I find their attention and watchfulness particularly exerted to avoid any blameable action, since the late misfortune of their three companions. These latter are still continued in confinement, avoiding the frequent attempts of the sailors to induce them to a conversation.

Another gross instance of impropriety on the part of these men has this day been discovered, which is as strongly marked for its unmanly meanness as it is for its barbarity. Having no longer the opportunities of conversing with the women, as formerly they used to do in spite of every restraint, and in violation of their commander’s positive orders,—not content with annoying the confined females with their gross assiduities, they now direct their cowardly malice against the other women, watching the opportunities of the night-time,—stamping over the prison about the fore-hatchway,—making hideous noises, and crying out “The ship is sinking,”—and in every possible way disturbing the prisoners’ sleep, in alarming their fears. Sometimes their vulgar ingenuity tries the idea of a ghost stalking about the prison, and this they endeavour to communicate to them through the prison-grating, to the great distress of such as are weak enough to believe them; but the majority of the women have too much good sense to notice such rude and idle attacks.

As these malignant ruffians in this manner insult and torment the poor prisoners, who have no means of resisting or avoiding the abuse, is it not to be deemed unfortunate that no power exists to punish, or at least control, such base conduct? When spoken to concerning such proceedings, they make light of the matter, saying they merely jump about for nothing but amusement,—not offering to deny that they have done so. Were no other proof existing, the fact of such things having occurred, ought to make the establishment of some appropriate and efficient regulations in these circumstances as sure of adoption as they are imperiously requisite.

Captain Brown has severely reprimanded the sailors for their misconduct; but to this they showed the most careless indifference, still persevering in their shameful practices in defiance of his strict injunctions, and in open opposition to the officer of the watch; so that the disposition of those men, so obstinately evinced, may be productive of consequences still more serious, as no means of compelling them to alter their behaviour can be resorted to at present. Having consulted with the commander on this state of things, we have determined to avoid openly censuring them as much as possible, and allow the affair to pass without further notice, as the least mischievous proceeding they may put in practice.

30th.—This day a discourse was read in the prison. The decent appearance of the prisoners, who were as clean and neat as their circumstances would permit, was highly praiseworthy. After sermon I remarked on the necessity there was for an active co-operation on their part, by reflection and meditation, to give effect to the discourses they heard from time to time, as otherwise it would be a useless application of those valuable compositions barely to hear them read, unless they turned them to good account;—that the reading of sermons would, in fact, become an idle ceremony, should they not with earnestness and attention endeavour to benefit by the excellent advice they contained;—that in this way their time would be most profitably exercised, and every hour thus devoted would be found of increased value. I was gratified in observing, by their manner, that these hints were not thrown away, as they gave evident signs of being impressed with their truth.

Their general behaviour is in every respect unexceptionable, and I more certainly than ever, nay I may venture to say decidedly, calculate on final success in landing them, with the help of a kind providence, perfectly in health, and furnished with some sound and lasting principles of moral rectitude, and religious knowledge, in future to guide them in all their actions. The three confined females continue extremely submissive in their behaviour, and the reserve they show every day gives me greater cause to be satisfied of the propriety of keeping them still confined, the good effects of the mild yet cautious treatment they receive being so very evident. As little intercourse as possible now occurs between the other women and the sailors, although the latter seem but little ashamed of their disgraceful conduct, and behave with insolent freedom towards the prisoners whenever they can, though they meet with silent disregard. The insolence, however, of some of these men carries them frequently beyond the bounds of toleration, threatening the women and making use of infamous language without any just cause or pretence whatever.

_August_ 1st.—This day the competition for the other prizes was decided,—Mary Broom, about ten years old, daughter of a convict, having gained the second; whilst the third was won by Mary St. John, a respectable-looking elderly prisoner, both of whom recited the address without making a mistake. The success of this trial, which was made as a substitute for employment, is the more remarkable from the previous history of the competitors;—Sidney Williams having been notorious for her profligacy,—the second worthy of notice from her youth, and unfortunate situation,—and the third, a grave matronly woman, whose example has some influence: yet, far from producing envy among the rest, these examples have served to stimulate them to similar exertions, and forty others, at least, are now busily engaged in committing the address to memory. Their endeavour to succeed affords a good deal of employment, which is the most difficult matter to invent, as all the materials furnished from the Ladies’ Committee have been long since worked up: this exercise, besides filling up some of their time, helps of course to keep in their minds a lively remembrance of the principles inculcated from the beginning.

Were it not for this lamentable want of employment, I would encourage myself to hope that the great work of their reformation might be fully effected. They are now as much under the regulation of religious precept and moral propriety, almost, as they are capable of being brought; it only remaining to be shown, as I apprehend, by their actions when again introduced into the world, that they are seriously determined on continuing this new life, heartily renouncing all their former unfortunate habits and inclinations. Of this I have satisfactory and gratifying assurances in many communications conveyed to me from several of these poor penitents, hitherto considered intractable, and who are indeed still looked upon by their less reflective companions as if they were the same giddy thoughtless beings as formerly. In these communications I am requested to continue my care of them as usual, and explain to them, at a convenient leisure, portions and texts of Scripture which they could not of themselves comprehend. It is needless almost to add, that I lose no opportunity of cultivating this disposition, and encouraging them by every means in my power to persevere in their good purposes.

Ann Newton and her companions continue to prove the sincerity of their amendment by the most correct behaviour: yet still my determination remains unchanged, not to have them exposed to the same risk again, and therefore they are constantly secluded in the hospital. Some of the sailors continue the nocturnal annoyance over the prison, as before, in defiance of remonstrance. Were it not for the misfortune of having to guard against the wicked daring of these men, I should now have nothing to concern myself about, relative to the moral conduct of the prisoners, as I may, without presumption, consider that I have, with the assistance of a gracious Providence, redeemed my engagement with regard to this truly important object. It would be a task of some difficulty to depict in true and just colours the detail of their state as it at present stands. They seem all of one family,—perfectly coalescing, and harmonized to a simplicity and reciprocal gentleness of manner, that, considering their former lives, would seem almost foreign to their nature.

2nd.—In the record of the preceding day I congratulated myself on the state of improvement for which the prisoners were remarkable, and described their demeanour as being more gentle than seemed indicated by their natural disposition. Whilst I would iterate the same opinion with confidence respecting the behaviour of the generality of them, it must not be denied that there are some few among them, whose characters I have studied to know, but whose stubborn temper there is reason to fear has not been as yet subdued, or scarcely can be so, although their minds are undoubtedly much under the influence of moral discipline.

Shortly after opening the prison this morning, I had painful evidence of this uncontrollable disposition, finding Mary Linch, a woman of ferocious character, mauling and abusing a fellow prisoner, of timid disposition and peaceful conduct, for some trifling matter of dispute; but so enraged had the latter become by the attack, as almost to equal the other in fury; and both proved so ungovernable, that I was compelled to resort to the only effectual means of coercion within my reach, that of tying the combatants together. This process in a short time brought them to reflection; they acknowledged their offence in the most humble terms, and prayed forgiveness; which, after some delay, was allowed, with an admonition in the public hearing of the other prisoners. This trifling irregularity, by disturbing the sameness of the scene, may be productive of some good, as it will make the whole more strictly observant of decent and orderly behaviour.

3rd.—This day, as usual, I read an appropriate discourse in the prison, all appearing attentive to the subject, as also to the remarks which it occurred to me to make on Linch’s late conduct. The same opportunity served to contrast her behaviour with that of the child and woman to whom I presented the prizes they had so meritoriously obtained. This affair has increased an emulative spirit among the others, who are exerting themselves to gain similar distinction.

The manner in which the three hospital prisoners are going on affords me much satisfaction; but I still consider them most securely placed out of the way of temptation where they are; and there they shall remain, as I am anxious to land them at their place of destination in a state of mind as pure as it is in my power to effect. Little doubt is on my mind that they might be safely set at large again: but for example’s sake it is best their confinement should continue; the situation of the hospital renders them healthy and comfortable. Linch also, for her savage conduct, is forbidden to appear on deck.

6th.—At the usual hour, this day, I read a sermon in the prison; and as the subject was chosen with reference to the recent misconduct of Mary Linch, and was calculated to enforce peaceable and quiet disposition generally, it was heard with remarkable attention. I alluded to the circumstances of the late affray, but avoided making it appear extravagantly wicked; my design being rather to make them love good order and meekness of mind, and to excite a dislike of discord and quarrelling. The observations were therefore of a mild and conciliatory nature;—That, as they were all driven by an irresistible necessity to continue together for a certain time, and as they must less or more feel themselves the children of misfortune and misery, it would better become them as Christians to love one another, than by indecent and useless discontents add to each others distress;—that nothing was so likely to create unhappiness as dissentions and disputes among themselves; and that the continuance of such silly squabbling would infallibly sour their minds, and deprive them of that tranquillity and decent steadiness which would secure them credit and comfort, and particularly dispose them for those different situations which awaited them among strangers, who would receive them with friendly and paternal care if they showed themselves well conducted and good, but who would naturally look upon them with abhorrence or distrust if their character appeared otherwise. These remarks had a tendency which did not disappoint expectation, and the desired effect could be easily perceived. On turning to go away, in a direction not usual, I was surprised and pleased to find an individual, who was looked upon as one of the least careful, sitting as retired as possible behind her companions and bathed in tears of repentance for her errors; I have since received from her a letter expressive of such being the state of her mind, and soliciting forgiveness for her faults. It is in this manner the effects of the system, incessantly pursued from the beginning, may be perceivable in consequences such as these.

7th.—With indignation and painful concern I must acknowledge a conviction possesses my mind, that the barriers of propriety which now so long protected the prisoners from the evil designs of the sailors are broken down, as, in spite of every precaution, and ever wakeful exertion, some of those men have succeeded in seducing four of the prisoners from their duty. The mischief having taken place, I owe it to truth and justice to state the facts as they have this day been detailed to me.

The sailors had contrived to effect a passage secretly from their own _birth_ into the store-room beneath, through which, by opening a way in a manner completely eluding suspicion, they got forward into the ship’s hold, and ascended to the entrance of the prison at the fore-hatchway, where, by means of a duplicate key, (which to locks of this description was easily procured,) or by picking the locks, they met the females, who had previously consented to accompany them if they succeeded in getting them out. It may be recollected that the former attempt of this kind, which failed, was made at this very place; but all endeavours to get into the prison from the deck that way had been frustrated by the caution used in fastening it down every evening.

The state of the locks at this door of the prison, and indeed at the other also,—for in this respect they are alike,—made this precaution of fastening down the hatchways necessary; for the padlocks, which alone had been put on by the Government carpenters,—one only to each door,—were soon rendered useless by the action of the weather: besides, they were fitted up in such a wretched, slovenly manner, that the force of a man’s finger applied to the staple could draw it from the wood. When the women first began to come on board, there was not any lock for the doors of the prison, and I was under the necessity of fitting on two which had been sent with the medicine chests. Captain Young with great kindness supplied two stock-locks of plain construction, although the matter did not belong to his department: besides these, there were other padlocks put on, furnished by Captain Brown, as those in use became spoiled with wet and rust, to which they were constantly exposed. By the former attempt at the fore hatchway, the locks there were rendered useless; and as others furnished by Captain Brown were set on in their stead, I considered every thing secure.

In that opinion, however, I have been unfortunately mistaken, deceived by the ingenuity and perseverance of the persons against whom I was endeavouring to guard. I cannot sufficiently express my sense of satisfaction at the spirited and prompt activity of Captain Brown on this, as well as on the former occasion. Every search which I suggested, as necessary to be made in the interior of the ship in reference to the information I had received, was instantly and personally made by him with prudence and vigilance; when with much difficulty he discovered the secret passage, and the confirmation of the transaction was made manifest. With readiness and earnestness, which marked the benevolence of his character and his kind disposition, he offered to accompany me when I signified my determination to remain in the prison every night till the termination of the voyage, to defend the prisoners from every further violence, even at the peril of my life;—and in this determination I am immoveably resolved.

_Thus_ are we placed completely at the mercy of these vile men, who now, incited by their worst passions and this success, may further extend their daring to acts of mutiny, and gratify themselves by open violence, considering us, as they may, unable to oppose any effectual resistance to any such villainous design. Moreover, the whole of the sailors, with a doubtful exception of four, seem to be all of one mind; they having, as I understand, refused yesterday their Sunday’s allowance of grog ordered by the Captain.

It would be unjust to withhold the fact, that four of the women only were concerned in this affair, not one of the others being in any way whatever implicated. In order to come at the full evidence of this transaction, I was obliged to make promise of some concession to one of the females who went below from the prison on that occasion, and by that means discovered the whole, and was the better prepared to defeat further attempts. The most secure means were used to shut up the secret passage, and the door of the prison was made fast with a thorough iron bolt, and closed up for the remainder of the voyage. The carpenter of the ship, who had been concerned, was of necessity employed in securing these fastenings,—a duty which he performed with evident reluctance. The offending females are in confinement.

11th.—The weather yesterday being exceedingly rough, and the state of the ship highly inconvenient and uncomfortable to the prisoners, a violent gale blowing, I was constrained to merely read a religious discourse as usual, deferring my remarks on the occurrences of the passing time until another opportunity, as during the reading of the sermon the vessel shipped some heavy seas, much of which made its way into the prison.

The conduct of the sailors, since the late affair, having assumed a more cautious appearance, and information having been given that another attempt upon the prison was intended, I found it necessary, therefore, to redouble my vigilance, in order to unmask any design they might have formed. They had been heard to use the most violent language regarding myself, accompanied with threats, all which I despised; but seeing the safety of the prisoners about to be assailed, a sense of duty, and a determination to protect them at any hazard, made me form the resolution of keeping watch in the prison during the night, armed with a brace of pistols to repel intrusion. This appeared the more imperiously necessary, as no security could be placed in their commander’s authority over them, further than as concerned their immediate duty in the management of the ship: accordingly I took my station below.

I remained there with a light during the night, but no attempt was made to enter: the fellows, however, amused themselves the whole night with making hideous noises through the grating at the fore hatchway, and endeavouring to provoke my angry feelings by their rude abuse. It was shocking to decency to hear their beastly language, which was much too gross for expression even in writing. It was evident they felt sore with disappointment, which makes me more than ever determined on keeping watch.

Notwithstanding the rancour with which these headstrong men persecute the prisoners by alarming their minds as much as they can, the assurance of protection they receive from my presence tranquillizes their minds considerably. Many of them of delicate constitution, whose minds were under the strong influence of religious feeling, no longer hardened by sinful habits long and sincerely renounced, felt undoubtedly all the natural concern of returning virtue, and consequently dreaded the threatened visits of the sailors, who must in such case enter the prison with open violence, and might therefore seriously abuse them;—even, as they expressed it, murder every one, and throw me overboard. I must, in justice, acknowledge that this evil is in some measure partial, one division of the men showing less active disposition to annoy, than is observable in the other. To the steady, correct and unceasing endeavours of Mr. John Moncrief, chief officer, in repressing licentiousness and maintaining good order, in support of my views, it gives me sincere pleasure to bear testimony; and to his unwearied vigilance and gentlemanly conduct throughout the voyage, not a little of the beneficial results are owing.

12th.—The sailors last night continued the noise, with additional circumstances of malicious intent, which argue a determination to persevere:—for instance, forcing a cat down to the door of the fore hatchway, fastened by a cord, they contrived to torture the animal, causing it to make the most piteous cries so as to disturb the women’s rest. Their daring disposition went much further; for, by means of a boat-hook staff, they broke down two of the bars which inclose the prison at the fore hatchway, making a considerable opening, which might be taken advantage of at that moment, perhaps, but that they were apprized of my being on the watch below, determined to fire on any one who should have the temerity to venture in.

In this almost defenceless state are the prisoners still obliged to remain, because no other means of security can be devised besides what have been employed, and no resource appears at hand to oppose the outrage, if the sailors _choose_ to be so criminally adventurous. Captain Brown, being much concerned for the existence of abuses which he has not power either to restrain or punish, shows every desire to aid my intentions, even proposing to watch with me in turn, to share the fatigue, and let me have repose occasionally; but his attention to the navigation and management of the ship is so constantly required, that I cannot with propriety avail myself of his obliging offer.

This morning the Captain mustered the second mate’s watch upon deck, and in an animated manner reproved them very severely for their cowardly and shameful attacks on poor female prisoners, which they would not dare to do if the objects of their annoyance had the power of resistance. The behaviour of some of these men, on this occasion, was singularly insolent, audaciously denying the whole charge, the proofs of which it was not then thought fit or necessary to open to them. I candidly warned them of the danger they incurred if any of them were found attempting the injury of the prisoners, or breaking into the prison; so that if any of them met with misfortune in such circumstances, he would have himself alone to blame. Captain Brown advised them in the most impressive manner to desist for the future, and dismissed them. It remains to be seen how they mean to act after this caution; but my resolution is as fixed as ever to persevere in keeping watch and protecting the prisoners at any risk, according to my sense of duty.

13th.—Last night was spent as before; but the warning they had received operating on their fears kept them from repeating the annoyance, and the night passed without disturbance. This day, in consequence of fatigue, I felt unable to read in the usual manner to the prisoners, and the Reverend Mr. Reddall kindly officiated. I seized the moment after its conclusion, and addressed them, charging them with laxity of manners, as unfortunately witnessed in some of them on a recent occasion;—pointed out to them the unhappy state of mind which must attend a relapse from virtue, and the misery which those women must now feel for having forsaken their duty;—showed, that vice and virtue, as they must well know, are irreconcileable, and that the hearts of those unhappy frail ones must now make them painfully sensible how degraded and wretched their misconduct must have rendered them. A burst of sorrowful feeling announced their conviction of this truth, and one would gladly at least suppose, that with this impression on their minds, nothing could induce them to transgress again.

They appeared to reproach themselves for the sacrifice of rest and comfort they made me endure. Taking advantage of this state of mind, I entreated them to reflect seriously on their duty, keeping constantly in mind the absolute necessity there was, now more than ever, to avoid, under every pretence whatsoever, the company and conversation of the sailors. I assured them that any found unmindful of this line of conduct, should be instantly confined, and not allowed a moment from the prison until they were handed over to their sentence, which should visit them in all its heaviness, as no effort would be made to lighten the burden of their misfortunes,—and that they must go forth to their lot tainted with characters more black and odious than what their former crimes had brought upon them. I was afterwards under the necessity of using harsh measures with one of the late offenders, Mary Linch, who, disregarding the injunction imposed on her for beating one of her fellow-prisoners, had the temerity to break through her confinement and go upon deck.

15th.—The personal inconvenience to which I have subjected myself by keeping watch in the prison, and which I mean to continue in order to defeat every machination which the licentiousness of the sailors may attempt, however distressing in its effects upon myself it may prove, has been attended with much advantage; as, by breaking up any plans they may have formed, their insolence has been repressed, and their forwardness to mischief overawed. Besides, the conduct of the women, such I mean as may have had a leaning towards a dereliction of duty, and of those sentiments of returning virtue acquired on the voyage, were checked in their relapse, and brought by a sense of shame to a proper recollection and recovery of themselves; so that nothing at present exists to disturb a harmony as perfect seemingly as what I had recently congratulated myself upon, previously to the late occurrence. On account of the severe weather, a heavy gale blowing with constant rain, the women could not get their cooking done, and to show them a little indulgence I issued an additional ration of wine.

16th.—The restoration of order and proper conduct among the prisoners, the sailors also having discontinued their nocturnal annoyance, had led me to think my watching in the prison any longer was unnecessary; but accident has put in my way a paper which has considerably altered my mind on that point. This paper, which I found last night in the prison, appears to have been written to one of the prisoners by a sailor concerned in the late attempted breach into the prison: the hand-writing is evidently disguised, but the contents betray a determination to break down the bars of the prison as soon as they should perceive that I was become weary of watching. “_There are plenty of us to do it_,” says this curious document, and its intimations in general are so direct, that I think myself imperatively bound to persevere in the arduous duty I have proposed to myself.

The contents of this paper should have been inserted here at length, but that many expressions in it are too indecent for publicity: however, if any person have a wish to inspect it, I have preserved it for that purpose, as the best evidence of the fact, that violence may be threatened with impunity on such an occasion. It contains also a threat against myself, which of course I despise;—in this respect, however, they appear to have an eye towards my pistols, as the same important paper plainly shows.

17th.—At the usual hour this day I read a sermon to the prisoners, to which they were all exceedingly attentive. The remarks which it appeared necessary to make on passing occurrences, produced a strong impression on their minds, and many shed tears of painful remembrance over those crimes which brought them to their present wretched state, and found in their sorrow relief from their reflections.

The weather being excessively cold and inclement from the nature of the season, and the high latitudes through which the ship’s course lay, the cooks found it difficult to dress the victuals: I therefore signified my intention to allow them wine four times a week, should their conduct merit such indulgence.

Many of the prisoners had worked up the straw and the other materials for industrious employment;—some into decent bonnets for themselves,—others the like for sale, out of which they hoped to make as much as would help to equip them respectably on landing, and for that purpose solicited my interference to procure them purchasers.

20th.—The constant system of keeping watch at night in the prison, has completely disconcerted the designs of the sailors, who, having committed themselves in a wilful breach of propriety which they cannot now turn to the base purposes they had proposed, are evidently filled with disappointment and vexation, and they appear the more annoyed as there is no possible way for venting their dastardly malice. Besides, they are ashamed of their late behaviour in worrying the women during the night, from the contempt cast upon such unmanly tricks. At all events, they seem to have given up that part of their plan, as no disturbance now takes place during the night: yet I have sufficient cause to believe they will renew their attempts on the prison, should any opportunity offer.

This day a discourse on the mischiefs of idleness was delivered in the prison, and the remarks with which it was followed appeared to act forcibly upon their minds, if a judgement may be formed from the tears of contrition which some of the late delinquents copiously shed, when I desired them to ask themselves—whether it was not in a moment of idleness they had unfortunately given way to that temptation which led them into their late transgression against religion, virtue, and order. To the others I addressed some advice on the value of time, and the necessity of not letting a moment pass without doing something useful; and to avoid every thing which could tend to disunite them, or sour their minds against one another, as by cultivating good-will and friendly feeling among themselves, now, they would be the better fitted for those employments which they will have to resort to during the term of their sentence. The transition to the idea of their unfortunate circumstances drew reflection to their situation, and gave a favourable moment to impress upon them a thorough sense of those duties by which they must be regulated in that country in which they were now nearly on the point of being landed. The behaviour of the sequestered females is satisfactorily humble and correct.

21st.—The tranquillity of the prison continues undisturbed by the sailors at night, although circumstances occurring during the day betray their intention of further mischief, should an opportunity be open to encourage the attempt. The conduct of the penitent offenders continues to exhibit unequivocal marks of sincere return to virtuous reflection; and in proportion as the voyage draws near to its termination, the interest excited by their compunction increases.

Their companions from Newgate, who have remained unblemished, and progressively improving, use the most earnest intercession for the offenders, praying to have them united with them once more. In this instance, the recollection of the danger they had incurred made me unwilling to listen to this charitable advocacy; but they, with a kind perseverance which does them credit, applied to the Reverend Mr. Reddall, and this amiable man lent his assistance to their wishes, putting into writing the prisoners’ sentiments, which he this day presented to me in the form of a letter, in the name of all the females from Newgate, signed also by the penitents.

With this entreaty my compliance was easy, both in compliment to the intercessor, and from a wish to cultivate the disposition shown by the petitioners. I accompanied the reverend gentleman to the hospital, where, having called them together, I remarked with much earnestness on their general state, gave them my hearty forgiveness, and promised to befriend them in every possible way. It would be difficult to express the feelings of gratitude they displayed;—it was signified in sobs and tears;—it was eloquent in the interruption of their emotions. One, the most distinguished for habitual levity, was the most fervent in her expressions of mingled joy, shame, and sorrow; she fell on her knees, and repeatedly asked for that pardon which had already been pronounced. The scene was affecting to those present. I encouraged them to persevere in their present resolutions, and told them that they were now at perfect liberty to mix with their companions, but forbade them positively to go on deck, which I assured them was purely for their own welfare. They with one voice requested to be continued in their present sequestered situation, as best suiting their state of mind; to which request they had my ready consent. The following is a copy of their letter:

“Morley, at Sea, Aug. 21, 1820.

“HONOURED SIR,

“It is in the deepest sorrow of soul we presume to pray your regard to our wretched situation. We never till now knew what it was to be completely unfortunate, because we have drawn it all upon ourselves by listening to the false persuasions of the wicked sailors, who have led us astray from our duty to God and you. We scarcely dare ask your forgiveness, our crime has been so bad, and our ingratitude so great; and yet we cannot bear the distress we are in at the thought of having acted as we have done.

“If our repentance can at all wipe away our offence, we beg most earnestly that you will bear witness to its sincerity; and at least be assured that we will not any more give you cause to be offended with us. But if your goodness will pardon our weakness, and overlook this transgression, our whole lives shall be given to make amends for what we have unfortunately done. We do not desire to go upon deck any more, but we humbly hope you will not send us away in anger; and although we merit a poor character from you, we hope you will pity us, and be as lenient as you can.

“We venture to offer our most grateful thanks for the goodness and care you have always shown to,

“Honoured Sir, “Your penitent and unhappy servants.” (Signed by seven.)

“Thomas Reid, Esq. Surgeon, &c. Ship Morley.”

22nd.—About two hours past the last midnight, the men of the same watch, whose indecent and unlawful doings have been so often already noticed, being on deck in turn, prepared to avail themselves of an advantage arising from an injury done to the bars of the prison, at the fore-hatchway, which had been crushed and displaced by the striking of a small cask, as it was hoisting from the hold. This damage, which occurred yesterday, could not then be effectually repaired, and _this almost paper edifice_ had no protection except the wretched locks upon the hatchway. Of this I was aware, and remained on the alert in case of any attack.

At the hour above mentioned I heard the hatchway locks at the grating distinctly opened and shut, no doubt by means of duplicate keys, and afterwards a rustling noise was heard as if the fellows were descending. This noise suddenly ceased,—no attempt further was made, nor any more annoyance given during the rest of the night. During this affair the utmost tranquillity prevailed throughout the prison, not one of the women having stirred; nor does it appear that any of them were aware of the circumstance.

24th.—At the usual hour I read a sermon in the prison, and have much cause to bestow commendation on the propriety generally evinced by the women. In my remarks I adverted to their behaviour latterly, bestowing merited praise on those who continued to observe the rules of moral and religious instruction which they had heard so frequently and with such evident benefit, since the beginning of the voyage, and who had uniformly testified their love for good conduct by never swerving from their duty. To those who had unfortunately relapsed, but whose subsequent contrition had cancelled their offence, I held forth the language of commiseration and forgiveness, exhorting them never to confide again in themselves alone to guard against sin, but with fervent and frequent prayer to entreat the aid of divine grace, when their reformation could not fail to be perfect, and their peace of mind ensured.

The sailors in appearance show less hostility than heretofore, and no further annoyance is offered during the night; the women also seem in no instance whatever to hold communication with them, even in passing conversation.

27th.—Matters continue progressively interesting, as the period approaches when the final separation is to take place between those intended for the colony at Van Diemen’s Land, and those proceeding afterwards to Sydney. A thoughtfulness marks every turn and action, mingled with sadness in some, and resignation in others; whilst many openly regret the termination of the voyage, as putting an end to comforts of mind and condition which they had not before enjoyed, and had not to expect in the place to which they were going. Still, however rarely, a trace of wild temper breaks in spite of all sincerity of intention to the contrary. This unhappy tendency of early habit was shown this morning by one of the younger prisoners, (Ann Farrell,) who for some very trifling cause quarrelled with and beat one of her companions. In the fervour of the confusion my presence put an end to animosity, which was instantly succeeded by tears of sorrow.

A sermon on the immortality of the soul was this day read in the prison by the Reverend Mr. Reddall. After its conclusion, I drew their attention forcibly to the subject, by reminding them of a similar discourse having been addressed to many of them in Newgate by Mrs. FRY. This allusion to their beloved benefactress called forth a flood of tears, with the strongest expression of feelings I ever witnessed among them, the whole exhibiting a scene highly complimentary to the revered object of their affectionate remembrance, and creditable to the poor women themselves: the effusion was spontaneous, full, and general; for most of them had known the lady’s goodness and humane exertions from their own experience, and the others mingled sympathetic tears with theirs. One moment such as this, even in the minds of those proud ones whose disdain for their former offences would spurn the unhappy wretches, would restore them surely to pity and protection. The haughtiest contemner of the sinner must, in this genuine display of gratitude and sorrow blended together, have instantly forgotten the errors of the past, and have felt confidence in the renovated purity bespeaking such humble declarations of contrition and fervent affection towards that bright and happy benevolence, which with sweet persuasion first led them back from the ways of sin and death, and taught them to cherish a hope of happy immortality.

28th.—In a former part of this volume I stated my firm belief, that even convicts are susceptible of gratitude; and in this opinion am I further confirmed by the feelings of the unfortunate creatures committed to my care, as expressed in the following letter addressed to me, and presented by the Reverend Mr. Reddall. The zealous and unwearied benevolence of this gentleman induced him often to visit them in the prison, for the humane purpose of giving useful counsel to those who might be disposed to receive it: on one of those occasions they solicited him to write this letter, expressive of their sense of obligation; they afterwards put their names to it, to be delivered to me before any of them left the ship.

“Morley, at Sea, Aug. 28, 1820.

“HONOURED SIR,

“As the voyage, through Divine Providence, is now near its close, and feeling as we do, indeed as we ought, the full force of your good-will towards us, it would ill accord with the impressions on our minds, fixed there by your faithful performance of every good office for the promotion of our comfort and our good, did we not assure you of our gratitude, and offer you our thanks.

“These latter, it is true, are but of little worth; but they are the offerings of sincerity, and we know you will not despise them: the former will, we trust, be kept fresh within us to the latest days of our pilgrimage below, by thinking on your many virtues, and by the recollection of your truly benevolent and unceasing attention to our various wants and best interests during the passage. If, Sir, we consider the numerous cases which required your professional skill and attendance among us, we are reminded of your promptitude and attention, whether required by day or by night.—If we reflect on your zeal for our moral and religious improvement, we feel how much we owe, and how little we can ever repay you.—If we place you before us as our protector, your unshaken firmness in the face of danger,—your rectitude of conduct, which the virtuous alone possess,—and the great deprivations of rest and comfort we are grieved to say you are enduring on our account, entitle you to every good feeling, in return, of which our hearts are capable.

“Honoured as we have thus been by you, and favoured by your sympathizing distribution of those comforts tenderly and humanely provided for us by the Government of our beloved country, the grief of mind our unhappy cases must naturally have excited within us has been greatly assuaged; and we trust that, through the grace of God, your good advice and able instruction in moral virtues and religious truths will not be lost upon us, but that we shall benefit by your counsel, when you will be in happier climes: and, Sir, if through your instrumentality we shall again become worthy members of society, wherever we may be placed, we shall have continual cause to bless you, and to offer up our prayers for that Government which has placed us under your valuable protection.

“Receive then, most respected Sir, our united best wishes for your every good, temporal and eternal; and permit us to be, with a grateful sense of our obligation,

“Your faithful and dutiful servants.”

(_Signed by one hundred and twenty-one._)

“To Thomas Reid, Esq. Surgeon, &c. From the female Convicts on board the ship Morley.”

29th.—In the afternoon of yesterday Van Diemen’s Land came in sight; but the Captain deeming it safest kept the ship laid to, and this morning again making sail, we arrived with a favourable wind in the Derwent, and anchored before HOBART-TOWN about half-past three in the afternoon, when the Naval Officer came on board. Soon after I waited on His Honour the Lieutenant Governor with dispatches from the Secretary of State for the Colonial Department, and was informed that a considerable number of the convicts would be received at this destination. The conduct of the women since the last date has been highly meritorious, with the exception of a trifling irregularity charged upon an elderly prisoner, which not having been sufficiently substantiated deserved no further notice.

30th.—Captain Brown having had occasion to go on shore this morning on the ship’s concerns, and it being necessary for me to wait upon the Lieutenant Governor, it appeared best to delay until the Captain’s return. In the afternoon I went ashore to see the Lieutenant Governor, who signified his intention of coming on board the Morley to-morrow. There having been a very heavy fall of snow, which continued the greater part of the day with sleet and squalls, the women were obliged to remain below. Nothing in their conduct has occurred to lessen my good opinion of them. They appear all in excellent disposition, and quite resigned to their situation. The anxiety of many of them is extreme to ascertain who are to be left at Hobart-Town; but though I am aware, from conversation with the Lieutenant Governor, that fifty at least will be required for this colony, still it seems more prudent to withhold that information, as they might otherwise feel themselves released from accustomed restraint, and, if so disposed, might be tempted to give loose to some irregularities.

However favourable the present state of circumstances be, I shall continue my nightly watching, until the termination of the affair is more satisfactorily decided by the removal of such women as are used to attract the attention of the sailors. The state of the prison is singularly tranquil, and the conduct of the sailors is remarkably quiet and reserved.

31st.—Having watched over the conduct of the prisoners throughout the day, I was detained by various concerns in the prison until half-past eight last evening, when I retired to my cabin to prepare the necessary papers for the women who were to go on shore. This did not occupy me more than one hour and a quarter; and on returning to keep watch for the night, I found that the sailors had, in my absence, taken four females out of the prison. Having made immediate search, assisted by Captain Brown and the chief mate, I discovered three of them in the hammocks of three of the sailors; the fourth, who was elsewhere concealed with a sailor, came from her hiding-place;—the four were of course put immediately in proper restraint.

At an early hour this morning I waited on the Lieutenant Governor, and laid the whole affair before him, when he entered warmly into the merits of the case, and promised his full support. This circumstance hastened His Honour’s determination to come on board, as he had previously intended. About 11 A. M. the Lieutenant Governor came and inspected the condition of the prisoners, expressing in strong terms his approbation of their appearance, and also the satisfaction he felt, and the conviction he entertained of their moral improvement. Agreeably to promise, I interested myself in their behalf, and obtained a comfortable settlement for many of the most deserving, and enabled the others destined for this dependency to indulge in the most pleasing expectations as to the same effect.

The Lieutenant Governor having returned, a constable came on board by order of His Honour, and took into custody the four sailors with whom the women had been found, also a fifth who was principally concerned in taking them out of the prison: he was about taking them away, when the remaining crew, in the most violent and mutinous manner, broke off their work; three of them forced the constable to take them also as prisoners along with the other five; to which the constable felt himself compelled to submit. The rest refused to return to their duty, and to a man went below. The Police Magistrate, Mr. Humphrey, who was not in town when I waited on the Lieutenant Governor in the morning, now came off to the ship, followed by a serjeant with a file of soldiers. On his coming aboard, the sailors were commanded by Captain Brown, by the advice of the Magistrate, to go to their duty; but they obstinately refused. The Magistrate in the most mild and liberal manner advised them to reflect on their imprudence, and pointed out to them the serious consequences they incurred by such behaviour. Still they persisted, directing their whole violence of abuse against me for having, as they said, threatened to shoot any of them who should come in my way,—with other strange and unfounded clamours of the same kind. To the remonstrances of the Magistrate they appeared to pay but little attention, although the soldiers were drawn up under arms beside them. Upon their alluding to me, I openly challenged them then or at any other time to advance any charge they might have against me, as I was perfectly amenable to the laws, if my conduct were not correct; but, at the same time, I renewed my warning to them in the most solemn manner, not to be found trespassing on the precincts of my duty, else, if they did not keep in recollection this salutary caution, they would with positive certainty have to repent of their folly. After much silly and vulgar rodomontade, they suddenly changed their tone, and one by one, in the most ungracious manner, laid aside their stubbornness and returned to their work.

In the mean time the three sailors who had forced themselves on the constable, and were conducted to prison, having been humanely reprimanded by the Lieutenant Governor and sent back, came again on board and went to work like the rest: the soldiers, however, were ordered to remain on guard upon deck during the night. The sullen manner in which the sailors returned to their duty convinced me that they harboured evil designs, and from information received, I had been previously assured that they had formed an intention of offering to me serious personal injury; I have therefore determined to keep watch in the prison as before, and in the most effective manner to repel their aggressions.

Nothing can be more plainly demonstrative of the deplorable state of insubordination existing among sailors in the merchant service, than the occurrences of this day have proved; for, over such selfish and ungrateful beings the master can exercise no authority whatever of a coercive nature, whilst they, acting on an arbitrary code of regulations formed among themselves, can insult him with impunity, the law allowing him no redress. In this state of things the voyage must depend for its comforts, security, and in some measure for its success, on their capricious combinations.

_September_ 1st.—Last night passed away without further disturbance on the part of the sailors, and the guard was this morning recalled. Having to wait on the Lieutenant Governor, by appointment, in the forenoon, I was obliged to anticipate my usual hour, and shortly after 9 A. M. assembled the women in the prison, accompanied by the Reverend Mr. Reddall and Captain Brown, to read to them the following farewell address prepared for the occasion.

On many former occasions of this kind their behaviour demanded from me the strongest approbation; but I must confess that on the present the feeling evolved in the course of this duty was such as would be creditable to any Christian assembly whatever. Their expressions of grief and contrition for the errors which had placed them in their present unhappy situation were poignant in the extreme, and would indeed be difficult of description. The keen sense of virtue acquired by fruitful repentance made them look down upon themselves as deeply degraded by vice, and cast an additional gloom and disgrace over their punishment. That hour I found indeed full reward for all the pains I had taken in their improvement, because it showed me that, however frail and erring some of them might still prove, the far greater number were sensibly, and I would hope permanently, reformed.

FAREWELL ADMONITION.

Having now arrived at that destination to which many of us have for some time looked forward with anxious solicitude and uncertainty, I wish to avail myself of the present opportunity to offer a few reflections which have at different times occurred to me, respecting your future conduct and welfare in life. In putting together my thoughts upon this subject, it has been my aim to frame an advice for the moral guidance of you all, but more particularly of those whose tender years and inexperience may unfit them for performing a part on the great theatre of life, to which they will very soon be introduced. To use this world so as not to abuse it, is decidedly the most important lesson that either religion or philosophy inculcates; but it must not be denied, at the same time, that it is one of considerable difficulty.

It is not my intention to entertain you with a dissertation on speculative philosophy, or a discussion of theological arguments; I shall simply, for the sake of perspicuity, endeavour to observe a certain order in the arrangement of my subject; but my sole object is to solace your minds by explaining, as well as I can, the pleasing advantages which every one of you may receive from the doctrines of the Christian religion.

First, then, let me request your attention to the behaviour of one of your own sex, in whose situation, as a sinner, many of you, perhaps, will perceive a strong resemblance to your own. The transaction is recorded in the Gospel according to St. Luke, 7th chapter 37th and following verses, in these words: “And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself, saying, This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him: for she is a sinner. And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. There was a certain creditor which had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most? Simon answered and said, I suppose that he to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged. And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore, I say unto thee, her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little. And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven. And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.”

This interesting little narrative presents to us one of the most affecting pictures to be met with any where in Scripture. The life of this woman had been stained by the commission of crimes of the deepest dye in the sight of Heaven. Her heart was now filled with bitter anguish, and the keenest remorse, which left no room for hope in her bosom. She had long endured the wretchedness of a sinful life; the scorn of the world had often lacerated the finest feelings of her heart; her sense of shame was intense, and with the most profound humility she fell at the feet of her Redeemer, but dared not to supplicate or indulge a hope of mercy: she never ceased to wash the feet of Jesus with her tears, and to dry them with the hairs of her head; thus showing her repentance to be sincere: and she found mercy. Jesus did not reject her; but, with the tenderness of an affectionate father, pronounced those encouraging words, “Daughter, thy sins are forgiven thee.” Can any of you imagine the inexpressible joy, the heavenly rapture, that thrilled upon the heart and illuminated the hitherto darkened soul of this deluded sinner, when the eternal Son of God signified her pardon? It is quite certain, that, however greatly we may magnify the idea of her happiness, we shall fall short, infinitely short, of the delightful reality; for we are assured by divine authority[21], that “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.”

We have every reason to believe that the shame, confusion, and sorrow, with which this unhappy woman was overpowered, were entirely removed at the very instant of pronouncing her forgiveness: for these soul-harrowing feelings belong to guilt; they are the price which must be paid for sinful pleasures; they are, in short, the only certain fruit that sin produces. These very feelings were intended by our Maker to stop us in the career of vice; from which having fairly turned, they disappear, and give way to that real, inward satisfaction which is the happy effect of sincere virtue.

I think we shall do well to pause here a moment, and inquire whether there were any other means by which this woman could have been released from the bondage of sin, and enabled to break the galling fetters in which she had long been bound in the slavery of Satan? To this it may be confidently answered, Undoubtedly not. There is no possibility of our heavenly Father being reconciled to us while we continue in the practice of sin. It does not even follow as a natural or necessary consequence, that our own mere repentance gives us any claim to demand forgiveness; it is alone to the wonderful goodness of God we are indebted for that mercy, who has been graciously pleased to promise pardon to the true penitent, on account of the atonement which Christ made for the sins of us all by his own sufferings.

Although in my former addresses, the subject of repentance was treated more at length, and made, I hope, clear to the understanding of you all, yet I am not aware that it is in my power to render you a more important service, than again to take here a cursory view of its most important advantages.

I enter on the consideration of this subject with the greater pleasure, because I am satisfied that my former arguments were not thrown away, and that with many of you the great work of repentance is already begun. If the conviction exist in your minds, that sin is odious, and destructive to the soul, no matter how alluring soever and deceitful its appearance may be, what can prevent you from extending your abhorrence of it a step further, which will bring you to conversion? To render penitence complete and effectual unto salvation, we must first discover the nature and enormity of our offences, in a perfect and lowly consciousness of our own sinfulness. A confused belief that we are not what our Maker intended we should be, will never produce that change in our hearts which is necessary to real repentance: we must have a particular and distinct knowledge of all our vices, and a thorough conviction of our iniquities. It is not enough that, with frigid soul and unmoved heart, we acknowledge in general terms that we are excessively wicked and corrupt,—that there is no good in us, and then to indulge in transient sorrow for a moment. This mode of action does not certainly deserve the name of repentance, and in the end, I greatly fear it will prove worse than useless; for it never fails to harden the heart, and to conceal from the sinner the true state of his soul.—_In the Christian religion there is no composition, no arrangement, no trifling, no fluctuation, no dalliance with duties, no deference to darling vices: if the eye offend us, we must pluck it out; if the hand is sinful, we must cut it off. Better to merit Heaven by every suffering, than eternal punishment by every gratification._

It is no very uncommon thing to see persons deeply affected with sorrow and contrition for past misconduct, and sincerely resolve to lead a new life for the future, and yet their resolution fall to nothing in a very short time. This, I am apt to believe, will always happen whenever the love of the world predominates over the more sublime desire of inheriting eternal life. To make repentance sincere and efficacious, we must have constant recourse to self-examination, and a candid, impartial inquiry into the state of our own hearts. For this purpose, you must seek frequent opportunities of retiring from the bustle of the world, and accustom yourselves to meditate in secret. Should your poverty or occupation prevent you from setting apart a particular hour in the day or the week, you can subtract a few minutes from the ordinary time allowed for sleep, “to commune with your own heart, upon your bed[22].”

Reflect seriously, that another day or week of your life is gone; then examine how much you have gained by that time. “Have you conquered any bad passion to which you were addicted? Are you more pure and holy in your own eyes? Look back on your past life; trace it from youth, and put to yourselves the question, What have been its happiest moments? Were they those of quiet and innocence, or those of riot and intrigue? Has success in almost any instance realized your expectation? Where you reckoned upon happiness in the highest degree, have you not many times been disappointed and found least? Wherever sin or guilty pleasure formed a part of your projected schemes, did they not leave some unhappy impression on your minds that remained when the gratification was forgotten? Are you more the children of grace, than you were before you shed a tear for your transgressions? In a word, do you think you have made any progress in the journey of salvation?” These are questions of too much importance to the eternal welfare of every one of you to be regarded with indifference, or carelessly overlooked, because answers to them may excite confusion, or cover your cheeks with the blushes of guilty shame.

There is no dungeon cell so miserable, or no retreat so unsheltered, as not to afford some corner where prayer and devotion, the exercise of every duty of religion, may be practised. The sincere penitent will often be found to select the most humble and retired apartment as the hallowed spot for devoutly worshiping his Maker; and his earnest supplications for mercy and forgiveness, will be as acceptable as if they had issued from the most magnificent palace. Even in the darkest solitude of prison-gloom the inspiration of religion can be felt, and its operation on the heart acknowledged by the silent tear of contrition, and the melting of the soul in grateful adoration of its beneficent Creator.

That the assistance of the divine spirit is necessary to complete the work of repentance, and support our virtue, must not be forgotten. Without God we are utterly incapable of performing any good act. But this ought by no means to discourage us from undertaking and persevering in the glorious struggle; for we are assured that we shall not be left alone, but have the divine spirit always near and ready to assist us. If our own effort to repent and reform be sincere, we have no reason whatever to doubt that God will graciously aid our endeavours. “True repentance produces an entire change of heart and life; of views, desires and actions; a complete renunciation of all vicious pursuits and gratifications, with a firm resolution to keep the commandments of the living God; any degree of it that falls short of this, is not that repentance to which God has annexed the promise of pardon.”

Were my limits less contracted, I should endeavour to give some little description of the condition of the hardened sinner, and contrast his gloomy expectations and distracting fears of eternal punishment with the glorious hope of salvation, that heavenly sunshine which continually illumines and cheers the soul of the blessed penitent. Even as it is, a brief sketch of some of the most prominent features by which these two characters are distinguished may be allowed.

Here, then, I would beg leave to ask whether any of you really believe that the life of a wicked person can, under any circumstances, be truly happy? To this very important question past experience enables you all to return a direct answer: let me solemnly advise you, my friends, to put it seriously to your own hearts. Methinks, in the painful conflict that agitates and confuses your minds, I hear the still small voice of conscience answering for you, and whispering _No_. Do not, I beseech you, attempt to stifle these virtuous struggles of conscience to rouse the spirit within you from the fatal slumber of sin; but regard them as the warning voice of your merciful Creator and Redeemer.

But to return from this little digression: Let us suppose a bad man possessed of great affluence, and enjoying good health; let him mix with the giddy multitude, and drink as deeply as he pleases from the poisoned streams of sinful gratification, yet could we hear the true language of his heart, we should know from his own confession that he was far from being happy; that in the words of the wise king of Israel, “even in laughter the heart is sorrowful, and the end of that mirth is heaviness[23].” His mind is perpetually haunted with misgivings and slavish terrors, because guilt is always attended with suspicious alarm. He is afraid of his companions in crime, lest they betray him; and of those on whom he commits depredations lest they detect and punish him on the spot; and, what is still more cruel, he is afraid of himself. His conscience, when he does reflect, makes him tremble at the thought of divine vengeance directed against him for his sins, like the guilty king Belshazzar, who saw his dreadful doom traced by a hand upon the wall whilst he was impiously rioting in the midst of worldly pleasures[24].

Such reflections as these, are the certain attendants on a life of sin whenever the mind is roused into action; and there is no opiate that can keep the guilty imagination always asleep. There must be periods in the life of every wicked person, when he or she will be made dreadfully sensible of their degraded state; when they will be forced to drink to the dregs the nauseous cup of woe, in which a double portion of bitterness has been infused by the poisoning influence of sin. It is of such persons the sacred writer speaks, when he says, “The wicked are like the troubled sea when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. There is no peace, saith my God, for the wicked[25].” To be alone compelled to brood over this black picture of human misery, would surely be dreadful punishment in this life; and, O my friends! can any of us fancy what it will be in that which is to come?

How infinitely more gratifying is the contemplation of the character and disposition of a truly good man, whose mind has been fortified by religion against every vicissitude of this uncertain life! His peace is not at the mercy of the varying circumstances of a world perpetually changing. He is well acquainted with the nature of true happiness. Afflictions do not overtake him unprepared; he knew that his Maker assigned him a particular duty during his pilgrimage on earth, and he is determined to perform it, whether it be pleasant or disagreeable, for he is certain that his labour will not be of long duration. He is taught by divine wisdom to form a true estimate of this world’s gifts, and he enjoys them with moderation and thankfulness: neither elated by success nor enervated by sensual indulgence, he meets adversity with the firmness of a Christian, and the confidence of a son of God.

From the above imperfect outlines, which are rudely and hastily traced, some idea may be gathered of the comparative condition of the hardened sinner, and the sorrowing penitent; and it is for yourselves to say which of them you prefer;—whether you will choose to exist for ever under the avenging displeasure of your omnipotent Father, surrounded by devils and infernal spirits, writhing under the most agonizing torture which you are assured will never end; or inherit a glorious crown of eternal salvation, and live for everlasting in the refulgent beams of heavenly favour, in company with the saints and angels, and the souls of the righteous purified and made perfect.

Is it possible that any of you can hesitate which of these conditions you would wish to be your own, at the awful hour of death, and the still more awful day of judgement? The question does not admit of a moment’s doubt. _Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?_ Let me once more advise you, my dear friends, to persevere in the godly work you have so happily begun, that you may at the last day hear the Saviour of the world pronounce those ecstatic words, Daughter, thy sins are forgiven thee.

The next subject to which I am desirous of directing your attention, is the manner in which you ought to conduct yourselves towards your superiors; and the way in which your leisure hours can be most usefully employed: on both these points my observations must necessarily be brief. Moral government was ordained by God to maintain good order, and promote happiness among his creatures upon earth; and the end of society is mutual convenience and safety. The existence of society can only be preserved by judicious arrangement of its members, by assigning to each some necessary employment for the performance of which he may be better qualified than his neighbour, while he, on the other hand, engages in some useful service which the former did not understand, or was unable to perform. In this manner the business of life is executed, by one working and another instructing and directing.

Mankind has ever been disposed to pay respect to superior knowledge or wisdom; hence arose the distinction of rank, which it is our duty still to respect, for without it society would soon degenerate, and present nothing but confusion, or superiority secured by ferocious wickedness. Respect to our superiors implies obedience to the lawful commands of those who are placed over us. This duty is enjoined by the express direction of our Saviour himself. In the first epistle of Peter, chap. ii. verse 17, he says, “_Fear God, honour the King_;” and in the next verse, “_Servants, be subject to your masters, with all fear; not only to the good and gentle, but also to the froward_.” Seeing then that it is our duty to submit to the divine will, let us do it without murmuring, and resolve cheerfully and faithfully to perform our allotted part. To oppose the decrees of God we know is useless; and although providence may have given us an humble station in this world, let it be our consolation that in the next all earthly distinctions will be destroyed.

With respect to the employment of your time, very little need be said; indeed all I wish to urge might be comprised in the single gospel advice, “Be not weary in well doing[26]:” and to this you have all shown a disposition during the voyage that does you infinite credit, and affords me inexpressible pleasure. The materials you had to work on were scanty; yet you managed to be seldom idle. Idleness is the bane of every social virtue; it corrodes the soul, poisons every innocent joy, and is the polluted fountain whence the foulest crimes are continually springing. Were we all to scrutinize our past conduct, there is not one of us but would be compelled to acknowledge that the hours of idleness were those in which we first meditated a departure from the peaceful paths of virtue. Whatever has occurred once, is liable to happen again: therefore our only security against temptation in future, will be honest employment. It was commanded by the Apostle Paul, that, “if any would not work, neither should he be allowed to eat[27].” If we do not contribute our part to promote the good of society, we cannot reasonably expect to be allowed a share of its privileges and advantages. Any occupation that is not absolutely vicious is preferable to idleness. I shall close my remarks on this head with the testimony of Solomon, who says, “In all labour there is profit, but the soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing[28].”

I think a few moments may here be profitably spent in considering the sabbath, and meditating on the important duties we are called on to perform on that hallowed day of rest. To every one whom Providence in its infinite wisdom has placed in situations that require labour, it must be gratifying to reflect, that one day in seven is, in all Christian countries, fixed for them to rest from their daily employment, and in some degree to be on a level with those of more elevated rank and fortune, by furnishing to both an opportunity to supplicate the throne of mercy for pardon of their transgressions, and of uniting their voices in pious adoration of the divine Author of Nature.

Public worship holds out so many inducements and advantages, particularly to the lower classes of society, that it has always been matter of great surprise to me that they should ever be absent when they have it in their power to attend. In the tabernacle of the Lord, the high and the low, the prince and the pauper, the captive and the free, meet to perform the same labour, to discharge the same duty, and with the hope of receiving the same reward. God is no respecter of persons. That the public worship of the Almighty is an indispensable duty, no one dares deny who has not the hardihood to deny the Scriptures, and all divine authority. In 10th chapter 25th verse of the Hebrews we are expressly commanded “not to forsake the assembling of ourselves together:” and in Deuteronomy, 31st chapter 12th verse, is said, “Gather the people together, men, and women, and children, and the stranger that is within thy gates, that they may hear, and that they may learn, and fear the Lord your God, and observe to do all the words of this law.”

Some careless and unhappy persons, who, at the risk of eternal misery, trifle away their lives and spend the Lord’s day in frivolous, indecent, or sinful amusements, endeavour to patch up some lame excuse, such as, If they were to go to church they could learn nothing, for they already know all that would be said; and with respect to their amusements, If they were not engaged in that way, they should be doing something much worse. The conscience must be very dull and wretched indeed, that can be satisfied with such flimsy apologies. God will not pardon crimes merely because we might have committed still greater ones. Suppose a man were accused of robbery, and the crime clearly proved, would a judge and jury be satisfied of his innocence, and acquit him, because he did not also commit murder? Such arguments are too absurd to require serious refutation.

God himself has commanded a particular regard to the sabbath, and enjoined strict attention to public worship, and it is highly criminal in us to question his authority, or disobey his mandates. We may, however, be very regular attendants at divine worship, and yet be very bad Christians. It is not hearing a sermon, or muttering a few words as prayers, that will obtain for us the blessing of God. It is only the prayer of the heart truly pious, and the effusion of devout contrition, that can reach the throne of grace.

The object of religious institutions is to have our souls awakened and impressed with a just sense of our own unworthiness; to subdue the influence of bad passions; to have our minds stimulated to acts of charity, and our virtue strengthened against the temptations of the world and the flesh. I am firmly persuaded that none of you will ever be so impious as to make light or turn into ridicule the ordinances of religion and the attributes of your Creator; you may however meet with hardened wretches who will endeavour to destroy the last refuge of the miserable, their hope of salvation, by scoffs and jeers; let me counsel you against hearkening to such enemies. What can they offer that will compensate for the eternal destruction of your souls? Show the profligate scoffers that you defy their sneers,—that you are not such fools as to be cheated out of happiness by coarse jokes, or profane ribaldry. Prove to the world, that although you were deceived into error, in an unguarded hour, still the seeds of virtue are alive in your hearts, and that your greatest, your first, your last desire is to be reconciled to your heavenly Father.

All these salutary ends would be greatly promoted by acts of private devotion at regular and stated periods. I would therefore advise you never to retire to sleep without humbling yourselves before your Maker in prayer and thanksgiving for having preserved you through the day, and the first thing every morning to implore his blessing and protection. I am indeed more anxious to promote your welfare than I can possibly express, and the only return I expect for the care I have taken of you during the voyage is, that you will all continue attentive to religious duty; in which case you must all be happy.

I regret that time will only allow me to make a few superficial admonitory remarks on the propensity for drinking intoxicating liquors. The effects of this evil are so pernicious to society, so destructive of human happiness, and so entirely subversive of moral order and social virtue, that I deem it of the first importance to warn you explicitly against its poisonous and seducing influence. Were human beings desirous of degrading themselves below the level of the most grovelling animal that crawls on the earth, it would be impossible for them to adopt a plan so ready as that of drowning their faculties in stupifying spirits.

Drunkenness may very justly be termed the prolific parent of every vice and crime that can corrupt the soul, or disgrace the dignity of man; for in fits of inebriety what horrid deeds and hellish debaucheries have not been committed?—robbery, murder, incest, treason, and others still more shocking, by persons who in cooler moments, in a sober state, would have shuddered at the bare mention of such wicked and abandoned turpitude! It is not necessary that the bacchanalian votary should carry his extravagance the length of brutal, deadly drunkenness, to produce all the mischiefs I wish you to avoid. Long ere it gains this disgusting pitch, the worst passions of our nature will become inflamed to madness,—a state more dangerous to virtue than even confirmed sottishness. In proof of this, it need only be observed that the one is an incentive to every species of criminality by which the peace of society is disturbed, while the evils of the other are confined principally to the debased individual who gives himself up to such disgraceful practices. Who is there among you that has not experienced, either in her own person or some of her acquaintances, the ruinous effects of indulgence in this odious vice? Can one half of you lay your hands upon your hearts, and say, that indulging in this very propensity was not the cause of all the errors and misfortunes for which you have been dragged from the bosoms of your parents, husbands, and families, and for which you are now forced to seek refuge among strangers, far from the land that gave you birth?

Drunkenness in a man is so disgraceful that it can neither be defended nor excused; but in a woman it is always associated with abandonment and detestation. If I may be allowed to express my own feelings, I declare to you truly and candidly, that I would as soon see an infernal imp as a woman deprived of her reason by means of this deluding poison. It is hardly necessary to adduce proofs that this vice is forbidden by the command of God. In Ephesians, 5th chapter, 18th verse, St. Paul says, “Be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess;” and in 1st Corinthians, 6th chapter, 9th and 10th verses, “Be not deceived: neither fornicators nor drunkards shall inherit the kingdom of God.”

Those persons who abandon themselves to strong drink suffer, from spasms of the stomach, a degree of torture that cannot be borne, and to relieve which they must have recourse to a larger quantity, and this must be repeated and increased at stated periods, until the frail machine sinks under the constant stimulus, the infatuated victim having in fact committed self-murder. Of the innumerable mischievous effects and deadly consequences which every moment arise from drunkenness, I shall only mention two, namely, swearing and prostitution. On each of these sins I intend to offer a few brief observations, without any further reference to the iniquitous source in which they originate.

Persons who indulge in the vulgar habit of cursing and swearing, cannot, it is true, be accused of interested or selfish motives; they volunteer to drudge hard in the service of the devil, without fee or reward; without the least prospect of a moment’s satisfaction in this life or pleasure in the next. Could the common-place excuses of pleasure, profit, or any other temptation, be urged, there might be some shadow to obscure the reason for an instant: but here a sin is wantonly committed, which will powerfully assist to seal the condemnation of the wretch before his Maker, and can only render him despicable in the eyes of all who witness his impiety.

In the discourses which I have hitherto prepared for your use and instruction, I have been anxious that none of the opinions I advanced should rest on my own authority alone, which will account for the Scripture quotations with which they are every where interspersed. In obedience to this rule, I need only refer you to the 3rd article of the Decalogue, to prove the enormity of profaning God’s holy name: “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.” This sacred prohibition of the third commandment was recognised by our Saviour in the sermon he delivered on the mount, wherein he says, “I say unto you, Swear not at all; neither by heaven; for it is God’s throne: nor by the earth; for it is his footstool: neither by Jerusalem; for it is the city of the great king. Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou canst not make one hair white or black[29].” Is it not shocking to see creatures formed after the image of God, and endowed with reasoning faculties, venting their insignificant rage in curses upon those around them, as well as on themselves;—often consigning their organs to the devil, and hideously imploring damnation upon their own souls?

Suppose God were pleased always to punish execration by granting the prayer of the wicked, how many wretches should we see with limbs and other members rotting off; with eyes melting out of their heads, and every other part essential to life, withering and consuming at their own unhallowed request! Could any be astonished if the earth were to open, and swallow up those depraved beings, who dare thus to provoke the vengeance of Heaven, and wantonly defy the majesty of God, as it did formerly upon Kora, Dathan, and Abiram, with all their followers? I recommend every one of you to read this interesting account; you will find it, I think, in the 16th chapter of the book of Numbers.

The next and last subject for our consideration is prostitution, which is more intimately connected with the text than any of those which I have attempted to discuss in the foregoing observations. Your behaviour on board has been so excellent, and in this particular so very exemplary, with scarcely even the shadow of suspicion, that it may seem cruel and unjust to touch upon it again. I confess to you candidly it has this appearance to myself; and were it not for the temptations to which I know many of you will be exposed, and the infamous arts which brutal sensual men will employ to seduce you from the pure paths of virtue and honour, into the devious ways of sin and death, I should not now awaken in your minds those agonizing feelings, which I hope and believe have long been tranquillized by the soothing influence of sincere repentance.

Believe me, my friends, I would most willingly spare any remark that can tend to excite a painful thought in any of your minds, could I in any other way strengthen your virtuous intentions, and the resolutions you have formed to resist every approach of vice, how alluring soever the appearance may be in which it can present itself. I am much more disposed to reprobate the atrocious artifices which designing men wickedly employ to ensnare innocent young girls into their hellish grasp, than to condemn the unsuspecting confidence which is too often reposed in their most serious promises and solemn oaths, and which has proved the ruin of many a well inclined and really virtuous woman. In the ill-advised steps which led to your present situation, and now cover you with shame and sorrow, have not many of you to accuse some foul seducer, some partner in your guilt, some false friend who deceived you with promises of pleasure and wealth, perverting your understanding, and blinding your judgement with idle dreams of ambition and happiness? And did not this deceitful monster, after he attained his own vile purpose, and plunged you into an abyss of misery, desert you? Nay, worse; have not the very men to whom you sacrificed your honour, been often the first to turn your enemies and open accusers? I am well assured that they have done so, and your present confusion corroborates the unhappy statement.

Such are the enemies by whom you may expect again to be assailed, to be again betrayed. If you value honour and happiness in this life, if you love virtue, if ever you expect to meet a just God in judgement, I conjure you, by every thing sacred, listen not to their artful tales,—be not entangled in their destructive net, for hell is open to receive every wretch whom they make captive.

I believe there are very few of you who have not pondered over your crimes; and your reflections, I doubt not, have given life to feelings of the deepest sorrow;—your tears have flowed,—tears of unfeigned penitence will ever be precious in the sight of your Maker;—I hope they will obtain for you mercy, forgiveness, and grace.

Are any of you acquainted with the indescribable sorrows to which unfortunate females are exposed? Yes; some, I fear many of you are; and can any of you think of following a life so accursed, without shuddering? It is impossible for those who happily are unacquainted with this worst and lowest species of infamy, to form any adequate idea of the misery of prostitutes—driven forth by an abominable procuress into the streets, where they are obliged to endure the pelting of the storm, and, while they shiver under the inclemency of a frosty atmosphere, are compelled to affect a smile of happiness which their hearts cannot feel, and to solicit the unhallowed embrace of a beast whom their souls abhor. The dismal receptacles to which they retire, after the weary and worse than slavish hardships of their nocturnal excursions are ended, are not less forbidding. They are forced by necessity to herd with loathsome wretches to procure a little morbid warmth, tainted perhaps with noxious effluvia, on a miserable uncovered pallet, where they lie crowded together, ghastly with hunger, stupified with poisonous spirits, rotting with loathsome disease, and nauseous with accumulated filth.

This is not an imaginary picture. Professional avocations have often made it necessary for me to witness scenes if possible more shocking. Many a time has my heart bled while contemplating the ravages of disease on young creatures withered in the spring of life, who once were lovely, and cheerful, and innocent, and good. I have a better opinion of you all, than to believe that your minds are so degenerate, that your souls are so truly base, as to wish to spin out a wretched existence, and die the most hopeless of all deaths in such polluted charnels. Would any of you wish a younger sister, or a beloved innocent daughter, brought up in a school so detestable? I am sure you would not. If there be any one present with feelings so unnatural, I hope God will give her a new heart. Are your own souls, then, less precious than those of your friends? Why should you strive to bring down that damnation on your own heads, that you could not wish to fall on your worst enemy?

Let me advise you, my friends, to give the foregoing thoughts some portion of reflection; they merit at least your attention, for they have been arranged entirely for your use, and put together under circumstances of considerable difficulty. Look back on your past lives, from which you may learn an excellent lesson, and then cast a glance on that portion of time which you may yet be permitted to enjoy; whether it shall be long or short, God only knows. What part will you then wish that you had acted? Not that of idleness and profligacy, assuredly.

It has been observed to you, by my good friend Mr. Reddall, that by good behaviour in the colony you may make reparation for the injury done to society, and benefit those of your fellow creatures who may have the misfortune to be similarly situated with yourselves, by securing to them the blessings which you have so happily enjoyed. If it can be satisfactorily proved that religious instruction is capable of working an entire and permanent reform in those ill-fated mortals who have forfeited the protection of their country’s laws, the attention of Government, and of the Nation generally, will be directed to the investigation of means to lessen the hardships they have hitherto been doomed to suffer; and the demonstration of a fact so desirable would give infinite delight to those benefactresses who take so much interest in your welfare. Can your minds be so depraved, as ever to lose the remembrance of the noble exertions used by these amiable ladies, particularly Mrs. Fry and Mrs. Pryor, to restore your peace of mind in this life, and secure your happiness in the next? Can any of you be insensible to that benevolent zeal which induced Mrs. Fry to visit you in this ship at times when several of her nearest relations were on their death-bed? Perhaps at this very moment she is supplicating Heaven that you may become thoroughly reformed, and, although the morning of your lives has been clouded by guilt, that joy and gladness may surround your setting sun. Perhaps also, at this very time, some of you have a parent, brother, sister, or some dear friend, lamenting your folly, and in secret silence offering the unavailing tribute of heart-rending and corroding tears over your sacrificed virtue. Are your souls so hardened that you will not do your best to dry up their tears? or will you by vicious practices infuse new bitterness into the cup of misery, and bring down their grey hairs with sorrow to the grave?

During my stay in the colony I shall have opportunities of hearing how you behave, of which, as well as of your behaviour during the voyage, I promise you I will make a faithful report to your friends in England, if God be pleased to allow me life to return thither. Virtue is now calling on you to walk in her salutary paths, and I beseech you, my friends, do not reject her heavenly invitation. Listen to the divine promise in 2nd Corinthians, 6th chapter, 17th and 18th verses, “Come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord; and touch not the unclean thing; and I will raise you, and will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be my daughters, saith the Lord Almighty.”

In the foregoing observations it has been my wish to avoid deep or abstracted argument, and I have urged no doctrine that is not supported by gospel authority or moral deduction. I thought myself bound, before we part, to give you such wholesome counsel as the promises of God hold out to repentant sinners, and my knowledge of the world enables me to lay before you. From the hour you came under my care, I have considered it as much my duty to protect your morals as to preserve your health; and I do not think that any of you are now sorry for the restraints that I deemed it necessary to impose on your actions. In the 3d chapter of Ezekiel, 18th and 19th verses, you will find the following solemn declaration: “When I say unto the wicked, Thou shalt surely die; and thou givest him not warning, nor speakest to warn the wicked from his wicked way, to save his life; the same wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand. Yet if thou warn the wicked, and he turn not from his wickedness, nor from his wicked way, he shall die in his iniquity; but thou hast delivered thy soul.”

On every man to whom the charge of many souls is confided, the above declaration imposes an awful responsibility, which if faithfully discharged gives him a claim to their gratitude. If any of you think yourselves benefited by my humble services, you can in no way show your gratitude so well, nor oblige me so much, as by making the substance of this discourse the rule of your future lives. Believe me, it will be of more intrinsic value to you than all this world’s riches.

It only remains for me to speak of the promise I made to you at the commencement of the voyage, that an impartial account of your conduct, while under my direction, would be given to the proper authorities under which you are to be placed.

A few there are who have, in some instances, transgressed against my directions; but by their unaffected sorrow, and subsequent good behaviour, I think atonement has been made. I have therefore the pleasure to say, that not one of you will be sent out of the ship _at this place_ with an incorrigibly bad character. In making this report, favourable to you all generally, it is gratifying to myself particularly, since neither the feelings of my own conscience, nor the strictest truth, will be violated in the slightest degree. Some of you will be particularly recommended as meritorious characters: and if, during my stay in the colony, it may be in my power to be further useful to you, I desire every one of you to come to me, and make known your wishes; you will always find me most willing and anxious to contribute to your welfare to the utmost of my power.

I have trespassed a great deal too long upon your patience, and yet, I feel a painful reluctance to bid you farewell. In all human probability, this is the last time I shall have an opportunity of offering you, collectively, advice. I hope in God you will not stand in need of it.—That you may set an example worthy to be imitated by those who are to come after you, is, believe me, the most anxious wish of my heart.

And now, my dear friends, I must bid you farewell. May the Almighty God bless and defend you from every evil: and, although it is likely that I shall soon be far removed from you, I beg you to believe that I shall often think of you, and offer my humble but sincere prayer to Heaven for your prosperity here, and your happiness hereafter.

* * * * *

After the reading of the address, I waited on the Lieutenant Governor with a number of the women whom he had selected as servants for his own family, and at my particular recommendation also for his friends: this gave me the gratification of seeing thirty-six of them comfortably provided with situations, and the remainder, making in all the number of fifty, in a fair way of being soon disposed of to their advantage. On this as well as on every other occasion I was deeply impressed with the urbanity of the Lieutenant Governor, and his uncommon attention to the most minute circumstance connected with the comforts of the prisoners, reconciling them to their situation, and urging them to honest and industrious pursuits. In the several interviews I had with His Honour, I could not but observe that quickness of intelligence, and soundness of understanding, which contribute so much to the happiness and prosperity of the infant colony over which he so advantageously presides, and to whose interests he appears so deeply devoted.

About 2 P. M. Mr. Humphrey came on board and examined Mrs. Josephson, a free passenger to Sydney, who had heard the denunciation of the sailors to take away my life; when her deposition was taken accordingly.

2nd.—The last night, like the former, passed in tranquillity, the sailors having made no further attempt:—this my constant watching in the prison every night affords me personally the best opportunity of knowing. The early hours this forenoon were given to necessary preparations for the removal of the women ashore, agreeably to an arrangement previously made: in order to prevent the prisoners from meeting any interruption, or conversing with improper characters, on the way, they were removed in small parties under proper guard of His Honour’s confidential officers: by this careful proceeding they were all safely landed about three in the afternoon.

I had frequently endeavoured to impress on the minds of the prisoners, how little reliance could be placed in the promises of any man whose baseness of heart could allow him to seduce a returning penitent from the path of virtue: to-day I had a plain proof of that cowardly deceit which generally attends the commission of crime. My deposition complaining of those men who had stolen the women from the prison and threatened my life, had already been taken; but it was necessary for me to appear before the Bench of Magistrates, where the five sailors were also brought. Those men could not deny having the women in their company, but asserted, with contemptible baseness, that the women were common prostitutes, and had come unsolicited to them. Thus would they, without remorse, consign to infamy and every degree of punishment the unhappy creatures to whom, I am well assured, they held out at the time the most extravagant promises, in order to screen themselves from the consequences that might result.

Throughout the day I had frequent communication from the Lieutenant Governor, who in the most kind and earnest manner exerted himself personally in behalf of the unfortunate exiles, arranging their several assignments. Having thus provided for no less a number than forty-four in the first instance, and with the most humane and almost paternal care, the six remaining were placed in a safe lodging, furnished with comfortable accommodation, until proper places could be procured in which to employ them. Even poor Sidney Williams had a large share in his generous solicitude; more out of concern for her unhappy failings, than her demerit in point of character. His Honour favoured me with a gratifying testimonial of his sentiments regarding the state of the convicts in the certificate given of their having been landed; a copy of which is here inserted, as more fully expressive of the real circumstances on their departure from the Morley, than the bare recital of a journal may be calculated to convey.

“VAN DIEMEN’S LAND, Government House, Hobart Town, September 2, 1820.

“I do hereby certify, that fifty female convicts have been landed in this settlement from the ship Morley, the whole being in the best state of health and order.

“I visited the ship Morley after her arrival, prior to the landing of any of the prisoners, and saw the whole number, as well those destined for Port Jackson as for this settlement, and I was equally surprised and gratified at their healthy appearance and their becoming and grateful demeanour.

“It appeared to me impossible to carry the branch of service, which has been intrusted to Mr. Surgeon Superintendent Reid, to higher perfection: I consider the admirable condition, both moral and physical, in which these unfortunate females have been brought out, to reflect the highest credit on the humanity, attention, and judgement of that officer.”

(Signed) “WM. SORELL, Lieutenant-Governor, Van Diemen’s Land.”

About 4 P. M. there arrived on board seven female convicts belonging lately to the _Janus_, who had been landed at Hobart Town from that ship by a colonial trader, and whom the Lieutenant-Governor ordered to be conveyed to the factory at Parramatta. The document accompanying those women was very unfavourable as to character; I therefore addressed to them a few brief observations relative to their conduct, and placed them separately in the hospital, with a view to prevent their communicating with the other prisoners.

3rd.—A young child belonging to one of the remaining women, which had long been ill with diseased lungs, died since coming into harbour, and the body was this day interred ashore, the service being performed by the Reverend Mr. Knopwood. This gentleman’s health requiring indulgence, the Reverend Mr. Reddall took on himself the duty of the day (Sunday) on shore, and addressed a numerous congregation of more than five hundred persons, from one of his own discourses, adapted to the occasion at a short notice, and directed with a truly powerful effect to the circumstances of the infant colony. A rapid and luminous review of its rise and advancement, led to a very handsome and justly merited eulogium on the local government of this new and prosperous settlement; whilst at the same time the unfortunate victims of British justice were taught to feel for their delinquency, and value to the full the blessings they were permitted to enjoy in this favoured land. Having paid my respects to the Lieutenant-Governor, I read to the prisoners as usually. The seven women received yesterday were present, and showed the most respectful attention to the discourse. If circumstances do not greatly deceive, these women are likely to be entitled to a share of good opinion.

Captain Brown, having arranged his ship concerns, weighed anchor this afternoon, and made sail for Port Jackson, two men having been previously embarked by the Lieutenant-Governor’s order to work the ship in place of the others who remain at Hobart Town, until they can be sent to Sydney by the first conveyance. Circumstances not having tended to excite greater confidence than before, I proceed to keep my accustomed watch in the prison.

7th.—The weather during the last day or two has been delightfully fine, and the tranquillity of my little community has not experienced any further disturbance. At noon this day I proceeded to the prison with the Reverend Mr. Reddall, and read a sermon of Dr. Blair’s, “on the misfortunes of men chargeable to themselves;” after which Mr. Reddall made some explanatory observations, placing their situation in a light so clear, and in a manner so impressive, yet so consoling, that not one present could withhold the tribute of a painfully joyous tear. The good man himself was not unmoved;—hard indeed must be the heart that could be insensible to a scene so affecting. I viewed with peculiar pleasure the seven females received at Hobart Town mingling their tears with the rest. On visiting them within half an hour afterwards in the hospital, I found that the impression had not been momentary or transient;—they were still in tears, which their efforts to hide from me left little doubt of believing unfeigned.

Throughout the whole of this voyage I have uniformly found good effects to result from conferring some mark of approbation on every meritorious action the moment it came under my notice:—in addition to some little necessary articles, such as needles, thread, scissors, and the like, which I distributed amongst the seven, I permitted them to walk on deck some hours, and had no cause to be displeased with their behaviour. This morning I served out to the women the remainder of a small quantity of thread put on board for their use by order of Government.

10th.—Contrary winds and calms, since leaving Van Diemen’s Land, have protracted the voyage beyond expectation; but the same cause has given me additional opportunities of witnessing the most satisfactory conduct in the women destined for the settlement at Sydney and its neighbourhood. Although a great number of those left at Hobart Town were of exemplary character, besides those of a less steady description, yet those now proceeding with me behave themselves in a manner so discreet and quiet, that one would suppose there were not more than ten women in the ship;—no noise,—no romping, nor any trace of indiscretion observable. Even the seven recently received have in a great degree coalesced in the discipline established: the four offenders also remain in strict confinement, overwhelmed with shame and sorrow, appearing more afflicted by their own sense of bad conduct, than the restraint imposed on them by forbidding every communication with their fellow prisoners.

According to custom, the women were assembled this day; and at my request the Reverend Mr. Reddall read to them a select discourse, to which I added some remarks on their future conduct in the situations to which they were destined; endeavouring to impress on their minds as strongly as possible, that their hope of happiness here and hereafter could repose only upon virtuous conduct, which if they ever kept sacredly in view, they would most assuredly enjoy in a degree far beyond any thing they had ever yet known. It was moving to observe how strongly their feelings testified a love for the influence of virtue; whilst tears, the evidence of sincerity, because excited from internal conviction, abundantly made known what was passing in their minds.

A veneration for truth, a love of order, peace, and simplicity of heart, appear to be the objects of their constant concern and feeling: from a knowledge of such being truly their state of mind, the best future behaviour may reasonably be anticipated from every one of them; and, being allowed to express my own individual opinion, I cannot hesitate to declare my conviction, that, if duly protected, and not exposed to more than common temptation, they will realize the most favourable expectations, and even for ever set an example of propriety to others in their situation.

This tedious delay in our approach to Sydney protracts my keeping watch as before; but although little cause now appears to exist for an absolute necessity of persevering in this duty, some of the most daring of the sailors having been removed, still an inextinguishable impulse compels me to proceed in that course which alone can afford me the certain assurance of its due success,—as, in case of any further attempts being made upon the prison, I am fully persuaded that even my individual resistance, such is the dastardly spirit of these licentious knaves, would be sufficient to defeat them. They know I am on the watch every night,—for they see me going regularly to my post;—they are also well aware of my means of defence, and only in consequence are unwilling to try any experiment of the kind.

12th.—In the afternoon of yesterday, the wind coming favourable, the Morley ran down the coast freely, and in the evening entered the Heads of Port Jackson in fine weather, and proceeded towards Sydney with a light breeze;—all, under divine Providence, being in the best possible state of health. At half past 5 P. M. the Naval Officer came on board, and received the dispatches.

13th.—This morning the Morley anchored in the Cove before Sydney.

14th.—At the usual hour this day I read a sermon to the prisoners, adding a brief advice for their guidance generally, and endeavoured as much as possible to impress upon their minds a due regard of their future duties. The sailors offer no annoyance further, at least in any way which can be directly noticed.

15th.—This morning His Excellency the Governor, accompanied by the Honourable the Commissioner of Inquiry, came on board to inspect the prisoners, in pursuance of a polite note from the Commissioner, to that effect, sent me the preceding evening. The state of the prison, and every circumstance concerning the health, morals, comfort, and _security_ of the prisoners, was minutely investigated: whilst the condition of the women called forth unqualified approval, the structural defects of the prison excited no ordinary surprise. His Excellency expressed himself much pleased with the appearance of the prisoners; and their humble, respectful, and decent demeanour obtained his peculiar notice. The Governor signified his intention to have them landed early in the ensuing week.

17th.—This being the sabbath, I read a sermon to the women, and afterwards explained the absolute necessity there was for guarding with the utmost vigilance against the numerous snares which seductive villainy would again and again lay around their every step;—that on virtue alone, firm and persevering, could their hope of happiness be placed. I explained to them also the dangers and difficulties which surrounded their new state of life, but carefully avoided to excite any unnecessary alarm, whatever might be the foreboding which at that moment I entertained on their account.

It was then that they tasted in _full bitterness_ the consequences of their unfortunate departure from honest and virtuous life; every little circumstance appeared in anticipation an aggravation of their unhappy lot, and filled them with awful fears. My heart bled for their affliction;—their grief was suppressed and silent, but its silence was truly and painfully expressive. Who possessing even the common feelings of humanity could be present on such an occasion, and remain insensible? It was indeed distressingly affecting to see so many defenceless females, recently reclaimed from the very worst state of vice and criminality, and from a thorough sense of repentance abhorring wickedness of every kind, now about to be sent adrift among an abandoned and dissolute male population, and amidst others of their own sex, who rarely, if ever, felt a blush for those misdeeds which had deprived them of early home, and in their banishment have rather, it is feared, cherished than renounced their former vicious propensities.

18th.—At 10 A. M. this day the Secretary to Government, accompanied by Lieutenant-Governor Colonel Erskine, came on board and mustered the prisoners. Their general appearance was decent and modestly reserved. Their dresses were slightly objected to, as being rather fine for their condition; but this was by no means unusual, arising from a habit of cleanliness, which was constantly maintained throughout the voyage, with a view both to the preservation of health, and to encourage them to cultivate a proper respect for themselves,—it being invariably known from experience, that a slovenly disposition tends to the injury of health, and the deterioration of moral sensibility.

19th.—At 9 this morning, according to a Government order received last evening, the prisoners were landed and conducted to the gaol, in the yard of which, as the weather was remarkably fine, His Excellency the Governor inspected them; and having given them much excellent advice, and admonished them impressively on the necessity of maintaining, by the strictest propriety of conduct, the very high characters with which they came before him, gave directions for the disposal of such as had got situations at Sydney, and ordered proper care to be taken of the rest until they could be removed to the Factory at Parramatta.

OF THE SCHOOL ON BOARD.

It was stated at the commencement of this journal, that a school was to be formed on board for the children of the convicts, as also for those of the free passengers; and that the Committee of Ladies had provided at their own expense a school-mistress to have charge of them under my immediate direction. It now remains to give some account of the manner in which this undertaking was conducted, and to explain the motives which induced me to defer noticing its progress among the daily occurrences in my journal of the voyage.

Some weeks after the formation of the school, the Reverend Mr. Reddall with his family embarked in the vessel for a passage to New South Wales, whither he was proceeding with the very laudable intention of introducing Dr. Bell’s system of education into that colony. This gentleman recommended that system to be adopted on board, and most obligingly offered to demonstrate it himself. Availing myself of this kind proposal, I had his suggestions strictly enforced, and his assistance proved of very great benefit to every one old enough to admit of their receiving instruction, as soon became evident from the proficiency made by many of them under this admirable system, which far exceeded any expectation that could have been reasonably indulged.

It was really delightful to witness the eagerness with which the children applied, and the rapidly corresponding progress they made,—several of them having become acquainted with the rudiments of spelling and reading before they could distinctly articulate the words. In proportion as their proficiency in the principles was ascertained, their moral instruction was attended to by making them familiar with easy hymns, and also teaching them to commit to memory psalms, and chapters from the New Testament, to an extent almost surpassing credibility. Memorial lessons of this description have been recited to myself, to the number of two hundred and thirty-eight in all, during the voyage, by children _every one of whom was under ten years of age, and some not quite five_.

My approbation of their diligence was always accompanied by some small present, such as a hymn or tract; and some of those interesting young creatures evinced an emulation to be thus distinguished, in a degree scarcely to be expected from children more than twice their age, bred up under much greater advantages and in circumstances far more favourable. Many of them, indeed, exhibited marks of intellect, which, under proper cultivation, promised to make them distinguished in future life.

Several of the prisoners too, influenced by the example and improvement of the children, respectfully requested to be furnished with elementary books, which were immediately issued; and the use made of them may be estimated from the very gratifying fact, that nine or ten of the number thus supplied had learned to read more or less before they landed in the colony. It is to be observed, however, that they did not join the school, but were taught in the prison by their companions: nor should it pass without note, that of those who thus exerted themselves to acquire a little instruction, _all but one were from Newgate_.

I cannot dismiss this subject without expressing the deep sense of obligation I entertain for the zealous exertions and friendly co-operation shown by Mr. Reddall in his devoted attentions to the children, as well as on every other occasion when his ready services could be available. It is but justice also to state, that Mrs. Josephson, to whom the care of the school was intrusted, discharged that duty in a manner highly creditable, having been uniformly decent, orderly, and attentive.

Footnote 6:

It is due to those charitable donors to state, that after the convicts had been abundantly supplied, a good many remained, which I committed to the care of the Honourable Judge Advocate WYLDE, who most obligingly offered to distribute them to such persons as, from his very extensive acquaintance with the state of the population in the colony, he knew would be most likely to benefit by them.

Footnote 7:

Where any intermission of regular dates may appear in this journal, it is to be understood that nothing of importance occurred during the time of which no mention is made.

Footnote 8:

John, chap. vi. 37th verse.

Footnote 9:

Matthew, chap. xviii. 35th verse.

Footnote 10:

Isaiah, chap. i. 18th verse.

Footnote 11:

Ezekiel, chap. xxxiii. 11th verse.

Footnote 12:

Romans, chap. viii. 18th verse.

Footnote 13:

Matthew, chap. xv. 19th verse.

Footnote 14:

1 Corinthians, chap. vi. 9th verse.

Footnote 15:

The illness alluded to was excited by excessive exertion to suppress riot and quarrels among the prisoners, occasioned by the clandestine introduction of spirits, as may be seen on reference to the journal of the 20th of the preceding month.

Footnote 16:

Hebrews, chapter ix. verse 27.

Footnote 17:

Luke, chap. xvi. 31st verse.

Footnote 18:

Mark, chap. ix. 44th verse.

Footnote 19:

Luke, chap. xiii. 6th and 7th verses.

Footnote 20: