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                              TWO VOYAGES

                                   TO

                            NEW SOUTH WALES

                                  AND

                           VAN DIEMEN’S LAND,

                                  WITH

   A DESCRIPTION OF THE PRESENT CONDITION OF THAT INTERESTING COLONY:

                               INCLUDING

      FACTS AND OBSERVATIONS RELATIVE TO THE STATE AND MANAGEMENT

                                   OF

                        CONVICTS OF BOTH SEXES.

                                  ALSO

                        REFLECTIONS ON SEDUCTION

                                  AND

                       ITS GENERAL CONSEQUENCES.

                            BY THOMAS REID,

 MEMBER OF THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF SURGEONS IN LONDON, AND SURGEON IN THE
                              ROYAL NAVY.

“He who thinks he sees many around him, whom he esteems and loves,
labouring under a fatal error, must have a cold heart, or a most
confined notion of benevolence, if he could withhold his endeavours to
set them right, from an apprehension of incurring the imputation of
officiousness.”-—WILBERFORCE.

                                London:

           PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN,
                            PATERNOSTER-ROW.

                                 1822.

------------------------------------------------------------------------




                                   TO
                          MRS. ELIZABETH FRY.


 _MADAM_,

_My late voyage in the Morley, female convict ship, having been
undertaken chiefly at your instance; an account of it could not with
propriety, in my opinion, be addressed to any person but yourself. A
faithful relation of every circumstance connected with the voyage has
rendered occasional mention of your name unavoidable, for which I have
to entreat your indulgence. In soliciting your protection to the
following pages, I am anxious to secure for them an attention and
respect which, perhaps, their own intrinsic merit could not justly
claim: of their object few are better qualified to judge than you are,
and certainly none will feel a livelier interest in promoting it._

_Much of your valuable time has been devoted to the cause of humanity;
and the results of your efforts, with those of your amiable coadjutors,
need no assistance from the journalist or historian to give them
durability; they live in the grateful hearts of those who were blest
with your salutary instructions: and from the solicitude evinced by many
of those unfortunate persons, as I have often seen, to impress this
feeling on the pliant minds of their children, it is not, I think,
presuming too much to say that it will be cultivated and cherished, in
distant parts of the world, by generations yet unborn._

_To appreciate duly the benevolent and happy labours of the LADIES’
COMMITTEE, one must have witnessed human misery in its pitiable
extremes; in all the pollution and loathsomeness of the licentious gaol;
and patiently contemplated the benign influence of moral precept,
meliorating such condition, as reflected in the melting heart and the
hallowed tear of the sincere penitent, retracing the devious path that
first led from innocence and peace._

_Admiration of that zeal which urged you, regardless of all personal
inconvenience, to explore the long neglected recesses of the friendless
prison; to awaken the minds of its forlorn inmates; to rouse the dormant
principles of virtue; to teach them to reflect;—and veneration for that
unwearied philanthropy which has lifted from despair so many drooping
hearts; impelled me to give your grand experiment a fair trial; to prove
how far the system of kindness and confidence, so auspiciously commenced
in Newgate, could be made to answer under other circumstances.
Accordingly, the measures employed in the Morley were, as nearly as
possible, the same as those used by the Committee; with what success, it
is not for me to determine. If however, it be found that my
observations, as detailed in the present volume, should contribute in
any degree to facilitate the truly Christian design of the Committee, it
will afford me lasting satisfaction to know that my endeavours have not
been in vain._

                                          _I remain_,
                                                  _Madam_,
                                                _Your faithful servant_,

                                                      _THOMAS REID._




                             INTRODUCTION.


The general state and condition of those unfortunate persons whose
crimes had brought them under the severe cognisance and judgement of the
laws, and whose lives only had been spared by the late happily
increasing liberality of modern opinion and feeling, have for a long
series of years occupied little public attention. Those, indeed, who
bestowed any thought at all upon the final treatment of convicts,
viewing the provision made for safely securing them on board of Hulks,
or within the walls of Houses of Correction, or having them afterwards
removed altogether to remote countries, thus restrained apart from
general society for a certain time, and so long withheld at least from
depredation, seem to have indulged with a degree of selfishness in the
idea of personal security only as affecting themselves, or at most as
extending to the other branches of the community. It seems to have
appeared to the minds of such people, quite generous enough that the
offender’s absolute wants were provided for, and that all was effected
when he was put out of the way of doing further harm: beyond that, the
condition of the convict was without consideration[1].

Who can fail to observe without pleasurable emotion and interest, that a
far different spirit is now stirring in the minds of mankind, and that
the times have become happily enlightened, not by the dissemination of
irreligious, under pretended philosophical principles, but in the
diffusion of Christian truth and knowledge? The present age will ever be
distinguished by the temperate, disinterested, and steady efforts made
to communicate to the great mass of the population the blessings of
Gospel instruction; and in the forcible example of persons in elevated
life, on every public occasion, attended with important advantages; and
under the auspices of some members of the present Administration, who
have lent the aid of power to this great undertaking, the
all-interesting cause of morality is firmly and rapidly advancing. It is
not for the writer of this, perhaps, to indulge in eulogium, though, in
the present instance, the cause would strongly invite to grateful and
liberal expression.

The same benevolence which shed a ray of celestial light over the poor
African’s horizon, has also held up the Gospel beacon to the benighted
sinner of its own climes, and forbidden despair. Mercy, commuting
capital punishment for transportation, had snatched the criminals from
the vengeance of the statute law; and it then became matter of inquiry,
whether imprisonment in Hulks, or Houses of Correction, or mere
transmission to distant colonies, was not the ultimate and only good,
which, in due regard to the permanent security of society, could be
fitly provided for those degraded and unhappy persons. But that wakeful
care which ever attends the proceedings of the truly good, sought out
with anxiety a further means of relieving their miserable condition; and
thus that useful employment on board the Hulks, and, latterly, a better
regulated management in the Houses of Correction, have originated and
tended to produce the present visible beneficial effects.

The societies for the propagation of the Scriptures, and of moral and
religious tracts, have opened the ready means of putting useful
publications into the hands of the prisoners, which have also so much
tended to soften down their obduracy, and generally to meliorate their
disposition and manners. The lot of the convicts meanwhile under
sentence of transportation was not quite so happy.

Cooped up in prison, waiting for the period at which they were to be
shipped off, these hapless creatures of either sex remained immersed in
all the turpid influence of that guilt which had brought them to such a
state, and still wholly occupied their minds. The listlessness of mind
resulting from their escape of capital punishment, the dreadful suspense
of death removed, and their poignant oscillations of hope and fear
subsided, produced a calm and satisfaction bordering on pleasure; and to
the unrestrained indulgence of this they freely gave way. But their
thoughts long inured in the ways of wickedness, and too willingly
withdrawn from reflection on their recent danger, presented no other
mental employment than again traversing in idea the schemes they had
practised, the gains they had successfully secured, and the merry scenes
which those guilty gains enabled them to enjoy. No friendly counsel was
near to hold up to their view the enormity of their crimes; even the
humane admonitions of the venerable judge who found relief in assigning
to their offences the mild punishment of transportation,—all was
forgotten where no sort of industrious employment was found to fill up
the wasteful vacuum of imprisonment till the time of their departure.

Their conversation and conduct became thus daily more depraved and
corrupt. The same inclination to riot and licentiousness continued
unabated, and in most instances seemed refined to a more subtle and
pernicious degree. The voice of admonition, if its warnings reached
them, was received with insult or contemptuous derision; and every means
and opportunity was sought for the indulgence of the wildest depravity.
The suggestion of religious reflection only excited impious raillery, or
blasphemous mockery; and in this polluted state did they remain
contaminating and corrupting each other, until the order from Government
ultimately came for their departure.

This was an event always desired by the keepers, yet in a certain degree
dreaded on account of the disorders which the convicts usually committed
on the occasion. It was their practice then to give a fling to all kinds
of frantic violence, tearing down every thing within their reach,
destroying their beds, breaking the prison windows, and with hideous
clamour effecting as much mischief as possible. Handcuffs and chains
became indispensable to restrain their fury; and thus secured they were
conveyed on board the transport ship, in a manner truly more like
ferocious wild beasts than human beings. This latter regulation was
invariably observed in male convict ships, and has never yet been
departed from. With regard to female convicts, the precaution of a
military guard was not thought necessary: yet, in some instances of
daring violence, it has been held out as a threat in case of continued
non-submission.

In the latter end of 1817, I received orders to take charge of the
_Neptune_, as Surgeon and Superintendent of the male convicts put on
board for transportation to New South Wales, and entered on the duties
of that situation immediately, though at the time fully aware of its
embarrassing and difficult nature. It was indeed generally known and
acknowledged, that a convict ship presented such constant scenes of
violence, and even systematic insubordination, that the management was
not without extreme hazard, while all idea of producing a moral change
amongst these unhappy beings was utterly hopeless. This, however, was
not a representation capable of causing me to shrink from the attempt: I
was strongly actuated by a desire to exert my humble endeavours to put
in practice a system which I had devised long before, for bettering the
condition of convicts generally; on which account I the more eagerly
acted upon the commands of Government.

On my return from this first voyage, I found a great many of my friends
and acquaintances anxious to obtain information respecting the general
management of convicts during transportation, which the opportunities of
ordinary conversation would not permit me fully to satisfy. Glad to
observe such interest evinced by persons whose opulence and well-known
worth must give weight and respectability to any cause they may espouse,
I determined that my humble mite should not be withheld, where the great
and desirable object in view was to meliorate the condition, and to
resuscitate the forgotten virtue, of wretched beings, for whom
philanthropists had long indulged in feelings of commiseration. I
therefore formed the resolution that, whatever inconvenience might arise
to my private affairs, from loss of time or otherwise, I would give to
the public all the information I had acquired on the subject.

My private representations on this subject having proved to the
satisfaction of all those of my friends who find pleasure in doing good,
and experience having furnished evidence abundantly, that even convicts
are not dead to the feelings of gratitude, or destitute of many other
estimable qualities, evincing that vice has not always an indissoluble
tie upon the heart, I was very warmly urged to try what could be done
towards improving the deplorable condition of _female_ convicts. To this
solicitation I consented with the less reluctance, as it would afford
the best opportunity of proving unequivocally, to what extent hope might
be indulged as to the possibility, from due exertion, of lessening the
wretchedness of their lot, and allowing them to become again useful in
society. I was influenced also by a desire thus to have the ability of
gratifying the promoters of this design, with an impartial account of
the management of female as well as male convicts. For this reason only
was the account of the former voyage deferred, in order that both might
appear together before the public, faithfully, in an associated view.

The success which happily attended the measures employed in the Neptune,
was sufficiently encouraging to induce me to give a full trial how far a
similar system might avail with the females, under such modifications as
a regard to their sex, and attention to occasional circumstances, might
render necessary. For several years my thoughts had been directed to
every investigation that could contribute to the stock of information
previously acquired, and consequently assist in the development of
vicious principle in some of its most powerful and mischievous
ramifications, to be enabled thus possibly to trace it step by step to
its primary source. The results of some of these inquiries appeared to
me important; and I thought their connexion with the present subject so
close, that its interest would be lessened had they all been suppressed.
These considerations have led to discussions which at first sight may
seem extraneous or irrelevant, such as _Seduction_, &c.; but I hope, on
reflection, the present arrangement will not be found objectionable.

I had been very early in life impressed with the conviction that the
bountiful hand of the Creator implants in the mind of man the seeds of
virtue, which seldom totally perish during his lifetime, although they
may remain long unproductive: an experience of the world more than
commonly extensive, perhaps, has every day tended to confirm the
justness of that conviction. This position I have always considered as
involving a question of the first interest to society, whether it be
taken in a moral, political, or philosophical point of view; and I hope
it is not arrogating too much to say, that the opportunities I have had,
opportunities not unimproved, of making observations, give me a claim to
form an opinion not wholly without authority.

In the authenticity of the sources whence my information has been
derived, and the identity of facts as occurring in real life, thus
following with the observations from actual experience, the peculiar
merit of the following pages consists, if indeed any merit shall be
allowed them. It would afford but little interest to know the
difficulties by which I was surrounded, and the many distressing
feelings by which I was harassed, during the composition. I may,
however, obtain some indulgence from the liberal-minded, by stating, as
I can with great truth, that my time was almost incessantly occupied in
attendance to professional duties and the avocations of superintendence,
with many intervening hours of painful indisposition, and other
unavoidable circumstances, during the voyage, by which my thoughts were
distracted and attention diverted. The haste with which I was often
obliged to write, or lose the impressions of the occasion, leaves me
little hope but that incorrectness of style, with rough and inartificial
periods, will be exposed occasionally. I beg, however, that it may be
distinctly understood, that my opinions have, at least, not been formed
from crude, superficial, or transient observation; but, on the contrary,
are grounded on due application of patient reflection and laborious
determination.

Although it may appear that advantage has been taken of the thoughts of
some eminent authors, yet it can by no means be admitted that the
present work is the offspring of a library. Any one acquainted with the
space allotted for the Surgeon’s use in a small convict ship, must know
the impossibility of having books of reference always at hand; and even
had this want not existed, my time would not allow of consulting them.
Many of the quotations are from memory,—some, indeed, of very distant
recollection. I am sensible that critical vigilance may find abundant
materials for animadversion: nor do I wish that the reader should glance
superficially over it; on the contrary, a hope is indulged, that the
candid critic will examine its principles minutely, and point out its
errors. The frequent mention made of myself, and the introduction of
letters written by the convicts of whom I had charge, will incur,
perhaps too justly, the imputation of vanity and egotism;—the coarseness
of description necessarily used in the sketches made of crime from
actual observation, may be censured as improper in a work addressed to a
lady;—and the journal will exhibit numerous instances of repetition of
the subject; of these objections I was fully aware at the time of
writing, but found them unavoidable. I had pledged myself to record
facts exactly as they occurred, without decoration or disguise; and in
no instance has truth been sacrificed to courtesy or private feeling.

To promote the happiness both temporal and eternal of an unfortunate
portion of the community,—a class too long neglected,—is my only aim. In
the management of convicts I am not wedded to any particular system; I
have described that which at present appears to me preferable, and I
believe I may fairly consider it my own, no other, so far as I know,
having been proposed or acted on before: but if any one will bring
forward a better, so far from regarding him with an eye of jealousy as a
rival, I shall hail him as a fellow-labourer, a benefactor, and a
friend.

Without further trespassing on the reader’s patience, the following
sheets are now submitted, with all due deference, to public revision. My
object is to excite inquiry, and draw to the subject the attention of
those who can command the means of redressing the evils pointed out, a
task which every good man, surely, will consider of vital importance to
the morals and happiness of the community. Animated with a wish only to
be useful in the humble station in which it has pleased Providence to
place me, I shall thankfully acknowledge such improvements as the more
extended experience of the benevolent, intelligent, and liberal may
henceforth enable them to communicate.

 Vigo Lane, Dec. 1821.

-----

Footnote 1:

  As there appears a strong coincidence between this opinion and one
  expressed in the preface to the “Rules for the Government of Gaols,” I
  beg leave to add an extract from that excellent publication, which
  appeared in 1820, but had not been seen by me until long after the
  above was written. “It must be apparent to all who have directed their
  attention to this subject, that the system of Prison Discipline too
  generally prevalent in England was confined to a single object, the
  safe custody of the prisoner; and to one method of accomplishing that
  object, severe and sometimes unnecessary coercion: if the prisoner
  could be retained within the walls of a gaol by bars, by chains, or by
  subterraneous and unventilated dungeons, by the use of any rigour or
  privation, this plan, aiming only at his personal security, was deemed
  sufficient: the possibility of reforming the criminal seems never to
  have been contemplated; no rule was in force, no arrangement existed,
  which could be referred to such a purpose: the attempt to disengage
  the culprit from long formed habits of vice, and to rekindle in his
  breast the latent sparks of virtue, were schemes known indeed by the
  writings of Howard, but generally regarded as the visionary efforts of
  an excessive philanthropy.”




                               CONTENTS.


                                CHAPTER I.

                            ON TRANSPORTATION.

    Capital punishment, 1. Royal mercy, 2. Origin of transportation,
    3. Convicts become settlers in America,—American Revolution, 4.
    Hulks and houses of correction instituted, 5. First expedition to
    New South Wales, 6. Colony established, 7. Progressive
    arrangements, 8. Judicious regulations, 9. Encouragement to
    convicts,—crimes often committed for the purpose of getting
    transported, 10. Convicts liberally fed and clothed during the
    voyage, 11. Victualling scheme, 12. Prison sufficiently roomy, 13.
    Extra stores, 14. Hospital furniture, 15. Articles of comfort in
    female ships, 16. Clothing and books provided for children, 17.
    Military guard allowed too much spirits, 18. Scheme for
    victualling guard, 19. Convicts’ regret on leaving the ship, 20.
    Arrangements for juvenile offenders, 21. Efforts to reform them,
    22. Many of them grossly ignorant, 23. Effects of previous
    idleness, 24. Employment considered, 25. Probability of mutiny
    among convicts considered, 26. Their gratitude and attachment, 27.
    Ladies’ Committee, 28. Their humane attention to prisoners, 29.
    School established, 30.


                               CHAPTER II.

                          VOYAGE IN THE NEPTUNE.

    Influence of moral principle, 31. Abstract view of the Convicts’
    crimes and characters, 33. Convicts considered irreclaimable, 34.
    Mutiny in a male convict ship, 35. Insubordination among females,
    36. Repentance and reformation, how and when to be aimed at, 37.
    Regulations, 39. System of management commenced, 40. False alarm
    of the convicts rising, 41. Religious worship, its apparent
    effects, 42. Punishment inflicted, 43. Prisoners reconciled to
    their banishment, 44. A school formed for young offenders, 45.
    Their progress in learning, 47. Inherent love of liberty, 48.
    Refractory conduct of a sailor, 49. Laws respecting seamen, 51.
    Relative situation of the guards and prisoners, 52. Soldiers
    intoxicated, 53. Conduct of their wives, 54. Quarrel between the
    guards and sailors, 56. Bad behaviour of a convict, 59. Allowance
    of spirits to the guard recommended to be reduced, 60. Women and
    children to have none, 61. Improvement among the boys, 62. The
    convicts generally behave well, 63. Their letter to Lord SIDMOUTH,
    64. Two mutinous seamen discharged, 67. Interview with Lord
    CHARLES SOMERSET, 68. Interview with the _Deputy Colonial
    Secretary_, 69. _Agent for Transports_ visits the _Neptune_, 70.
    Sixteen convicts are embarked, 71. Apprehensions of disease from
    this increased number, 72. Official application not noticed, 74.
    Precautions to prevent communication between the new and old
    prisoners, 75. The latter generously share their wine with the
    former, 76. Prisoners express their gratitude for being kindly
    treated, 77. Neptune’s arrival at Sydney; the convicts write a
    letter, 79. Governor MACQUARIE’S opinion of the voyage, 80.
    Observations in the colony, 81. Departure with dispatches, 82.
    Loss sustained by a hurricane, 83. Return to England,—letter to
    Navy Board, 84.


                               CHAPTER III.

                          VOYAGE IN THE MORLEY.

    Mrs. FRY’S exertions, 93. Visit to the Morley, 94. Arrangements
    for a school, 95. Religious books liberally supplied, 96.
    Regulations, 98. Crimes, 100. Characters, 101. Sentence, 102.
    Address, 103. Mrs. PRYOR visits the convicts, 116. Application to
    the Secretary of State to permit a convict’s child, above the
    regular age, to be embarked; which is granted, 118. Convicts
    appear too familiar with the sailors, 119. Some of the convicts
    behave ill, 120. Captain YOUNG visits the ship, 122. Mr. CAPPER’S
    visit, 123. Bank Solicitor gives five pounds to every woman under
    sentence for forged notes, 124. The Keeper of Newgate gives half a
    crown to each convict from that prison, 126. Mrs. FRY visits the
    ship, and admonishes the prisoners, 127. Improved behaviour of the
    prisoners, 128. Two ladies and a gentleman visit a young prisoner,
    to whom they give good advice, 129. Their perilous situation after
    leaving the ship, 130. Three invalid females removed by order of
    the Navy Board, 131. Dispatches and sailing-orders arrive; riotous
    behaviour of some of the convicts, 132. Morley sails, 133. Arrives
    in the Downs, where the pilot leaves her, 134. Boisterous weather,
    135. Address to the convicts after leaving their native country,
    138. They request permission to copy it, 156. Death and interment
    of two convicts’ children, 157. Feelings of the convicts during a
    violent squall, 159. Inflammatory fever appears among the
    prisoners, 164. A quarrel, 165. Death of a convict’s child, 166.
    Great improvement in a convict, produced by employment, 168. Two
    old enemies become reconciled, 171. Sailors attempt to break into
    the prison, 172. They threaten to murder one of the women, 173.
    Captain BROWN remonstrates with them, 174. They make another
    effort to communicate with the women, 175. First prize won, 177.
    Continued impropriety of the sailors, 179. Second and third prizes
    won, 182. A violent quarrel between two women, 184. The sailors
    open a passage into the prison, 187. Exertions of Captain BROWN to
    discover and defeat their purpose, 189. They behave with more
    caution, 190. Conduct of the chief officer, 191. Capt. BROWN
    musters the refractory sailors, and admonishes them, 193. Effects
    of keeping watch in the prison, 195. Cooking prevented by rough
    weather, 196. Conduct of the prisoners from Newgate, 198. A
    letter, 199. Injury done to the prison, 201. A sermon read by the
    Rev. Mr. REDDALL, 203. A letter from the convicts, 204. Arrival at
    Van Diemen’s Land, 205. The sailors get four females out of the
    prison, 207. The Lieutenant Governor visits the ship, 207. A
    police magistrate and military guard sent on board, 208. Farewell
    admonition, 210. Humane attention of the Lieutenant Governor to
    the convicts, 238. Fifty convicts landed, 239. Lieutenant
    Governor’s certificate, 240. Seven women sent on board the Morley
    to be conveyed to the Factory at Parramatta on account of bad
    conduct, 241. Departure from Hobart-Town, 242. The seven females
    behave well, and receive encouragement, 243. Arrival at Sydney,
    245. His Excellency the GOVERNOR and the Honourable COMMISSIONER
    OF INQUIRY visit the Morley, and inspect the convicts, 246.
    Convicts are mustered, 247. Progress of the school on board, 248.


                               CHAPTER IV.

                     MANNER OF DISPOSING OF CONVICTS.

    The principal Superintendent takes charge of the prisoners, 251.
    His extensive knowledge, 252. The manner in which the duties of
    his office are discharged, 253. Convicts readily form connections,
    254. Persons of indifferent character chosen to act as turnkeys,
    256. Public-houses too numerous, 257. Convicts’ reception at the
    Factory, 258. Want of order in that establishment, 259. Two women
    sent back to England, being too bad to remain in the colony, 262.
    Proposed marriage of a female, 264. Reduced number of
    public-houses, 266. Little hope of reformation, 268. Manner of
    disposing of male convicts, and their general condition, 270. Want
    of regulation in the barrack, 273. Convicts purchase their liberty
    from their masters, 275. Punishment, 276.


                                CHAPTER V.

           SITUATION AND DUTIES OF THE SURGEON SUPERINTENDENT.

    Government contract for the conveyance of convicts, 278. Former
    manner compared with the present, 281. Difficulty of managing
    convicts, 283. Surgeon Superintendent unsupported, 284. His
    numerous duties, 285. Obstacles opposed to his return after
    landing the convicts, 287. Character of the commanders and medical
    men in convict ships, 289. The Surgeon Superintendent not allowed
    a servant, 290. Liability to disagreement between him, the Master,
    and military officer, 291.


                               CHAPTER VI.

                          GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.

    Proposed alteration in prisons, 294. Other opinions, 295. Moral
    instruction hitherto neglected, 296. State of female prisons
    further considered: possibility of reformation contended for, 299.
    Behaviour of the prisoners in the colony, who went out in the
    Neptune, 301. Employment recommended, 303. Check to population,
    304. Proportion of males to females, 305. Unhappy connexions often
    formed, 306. The assertion that women from Newgate behave worse
    than those from other prisons, examined, 307. State of the rising
    generation, 311. Formation of Bible and other useful Institutions,
    313. Cursory view of the French revolution, 314. Early education
    recommended, 316. Devotedness of Governor MACQUARIE to the welfare
    of the colony, 317. Inaptitude of the Factory establishment to the
    reformation of its wretched tenants, 318. Alterations suggested,
    319. CONCLUSION, 320.


                                APPENDIX.

                        REFLECTIONS ON SEDUCTION.

    Influence of the British Constitution, 321. The characters of a
    felon and seducer, compared, 323. The history of a seducer, from
    real life, 326. His birth and prospective talent, 328. Education,
    329. Character of his travelling companion, 330. Exploits in
    Paris, 331. Occurrences in Bourdeaux, 333. Journey to Marseilles
    and Toulon, 336. Thence to Naples, 337. Description of a
    hurricane, 338. Lands at Leghorn, 341. Visits Naples; returns to
    England; and is about to be married, 342. Excessive grief
    occasioned by the death of a friend, 344. Goes to London, and
    thence to Scotland, 345. His father’s death, 349. Interview with
    his mother, 350. Base attempt, 352. Change of disposition, 354.
    Extreme misery, 355. Extravagant conduct, 357. Elopement with a
    young lady, 361. His dying moments, 362. Law of honour and men of
    the world, 364. The seducer’s character further sketched, 366.
    Sufferings of unhappy women, 370. Murder sometimes committed, 371.
    The victim of seduction generally abandoned, 372. Notorious rakes
    received and countenanced in society, 377. Prostitution an
    inevitable consequence, 378. Waste of happiness, 380. Remedy
    proposed by Doctor COLQUHOUN, examined, 386. State of morals in
    Holland, Italy, and India, 388.




                              TWO VOYAGES

                                   TO

                            NEW SOUTH WALES,

                                 _&c._




                               CHAPTER I.

                           ON TRANSPORTATION.


The frequency of capital punishment in this country has long excited a
general feeling of abhorrence, not merely from the removal of a
malefactor from the stage of life, but the distress produced in the
display of a scene relieving the unfortunate sufferer from worldly
troubles, yet leaving a too painful impression on the mind of the
spectator. There is a hallowed reverence thrown around the grave of even
the hardiest offender whose crimes have been expiated by his death. The
execution of his sentence protects not only against insult and
upbraiding, but also secures a degree of pity for his sad condition. But
when the Royal mercy, expunging the severe sentence of the law, and
obliterating the obnoxious record, bids the wretch to live and “sin no
more,” all the more pleasing ideas arising from seeing him restored to
society and alienated from crime, are indulged by the humane. Hence
arose a question of solicitude, whether the offender might not be made,
in all possible cases, some way useful to society, or at least have the
chance of effecting some expiation; thus securing to him the means of
amendment in this life, and the hope of future mercy by a sincere
repentance and sorrow for his past crimes.

In the place of Death, the punishment of Transportation to remote lands
under the dominion of the British Government, at first to North America,
and subsequently to New South Wales, was adopted. To these places of
banishment all persons were sent whose sentence had been commuted from
death for transportation, as next in degree of severity in the criminal
code, which (in happy as absolute rejection of all barbarous refinement
in punishment) admitted no middle term between actual removal of the
offender in loss of life, and the political annihilation of all his
rights as a member of the state, for the term of his natural life, or a
determinate period, during which, consequently, his services were to be
useless but to the Crown or its assigns; and his condition, therefore,
and its comfort altogether independent of his own arbitrament and
volition.

The convict was thus torn from every tie of relationship; and as even
the depraved have their kindred affinities and private affections
softened by some of the endearments of life, the separation rendered the
fulfilment of the sentence painful, and in this respect satisfied one
intention of the law. Indeed the very worst offender seems not so
divested of the character of humanity, but that the possession of life
is still held by some link of nature to him of strong association.

The transport with which the condemned malefactor receives the reprieve
or the news of pardon, proves the estimation in which he holds life, not
more on his own account, than as it concerns his future hopes of
benefiting his children or relations. With what rapturous emotion must
the robber feel his bosom swell, when informed that his pardon was given
because the life of the person he had robbed was spared!—that because in
the career of his maddening plunder, whilst with one hand he grasped the
purse, and with the other the devoted throat of his unresisting victim,
a sudden thought of his own little ones flashed across his brain, and
made him cast away the deadly pistol!—Grateful for the extension of
life, one cannot but think he will carry with him in his exile a strong
tendency to amendment, and impress on the mind of other offenders that
sense of humanity which saved and opened to him so great a consolation.

The original intention of disposing of convicts by transportation was
most likely to break off all existing connexions, and to estrange the
mind from all former associations, so as to render the prisoner as
abstracted as possible from every consideration but that of the
immediate duty or discipline imposed. The expense attending their
removal made it necessary that it should be repaid out of the convicts’
labour; and every possible chance of a return before their time, and all
thought of home, or as much as could be, were carefully removed, that
their whole time should be given for the above purpose. The punishment
of exile had other terrors for the convicts themselves, which served to
render their banishment a temporary slavery.

The ingenious Doctor Colquhoun gives the following on the origin of
_Transportation_: “Parliament authorized this species of punishment in
1718, when the general plan of sending convicts to the American
plantations was first adopted. This system continued for 56 years,
during which period, and until the commencement of the American war in
1775, great numbers of felons were sent chiefly to the province of
Maryland. The rigid discipline which the colonial laws authorized the
masters to exercise over servants, joined to the prospects which
agricultural pursuits, after some experience was acquired, afforded to
those _outcasts_, tended to reform the chief part; and after the
expiration of their servitude, they mingled in the society of the
country, under circumstances highly beneficial to themselves, and even
to the colony. Possessed in general (as every adroit thief must be) of
good natural abilities, they availed themselves of the habits of
industry they acquired in the years of their servitude; became farmers
and planters on their own account; and many of them succeeding in those
pursuits, not only acquired that degree of respectability which is
attached to property and industry, but also in their turn became
masters, and purchased the servitude of future transports sent out for
sale.”

When the American revolution prevented the further transmission of
convicts to that country, the system of the _Hulks_ and _Houses of
Correction_ was substituted. However, from the increasing number of
delinquents, arising not only from the increase of vice but that of
population, that mode soon became inadequate to the augmented demands
for disposing of the prisoners, as of course to the enforcement of that
labour to which for their offences they had been sentenced. Plans were
then acted upon for building extensive prisons, penitentiaries, and
asylums for their reception: but the enormous expense and comparative
inefficacy of those establishments, which it appears were mostly
conducted in the old miserable mode of gaol discipline, the evils of
which became now universally acknowledged, soon raised loud complaints
against the system.

The attention of Government, still directed to this necessary and
important relief of the community from those who would subvert its
comforts and security, caused the coast of Africa to be explored for a
fit situation for a colony: but that research proved fruitless, on
account of the unhealthiness of the climate, or hostility of the natives
of those situations which remained unoccupied by other European nations,
rendering it imprudent to risk an establishment in that country. The
discovery of the vast territory of New South Wales by Captain COOK in
1770 and 1777, opened a new field for disposing of those refractory
characters. The following is recorded by COLLINS as the commencement of
the present colony there:

“The Commissioners of His Majesty’s Navy, toward the end of the year
1786, advertised for a certain number of vessels to be taken up for the
purpose of conveying between seven and eight hundred male and female
felons to Botany Bay, in New South Wales, on the eastern coast of New
Holland, whither it had been determined by Government to transport them,
after having sought in vain upon the African coast for a situation
possessing the requisites for the establishment of a colony.

“Six transports and three store-ships were accordingly engaged to convey
the persons designed to form the new settlement, with the stores and
provisions necessary for their use and consumption. Of the latter,
sufficient for two years were put on board; and among the former were
tools, implements of agriculture, and such other articles as were
considered necessary to a colonial establishment.

“The government of the country was intrusted by His Majesty to Arthur
Phillip, Esq. a Post Captain in the service.—The convicts for whose
disposal this speculation was undertaken, consisted of 565 men and 192
women; and every necessary arrangement having been made by the naval and
military commanders, which seemed best calculated to ensure a fortunate
termination to the voyage, on Sunday the 13th of May 1787, the little
fleet, which had previously collected at the Mother Bank, sailed with a
leading wind through the Needle passage, accompanied by the Hon. Captain
de Courcy in the Hyena frigate.

“This expedition anchored in Botany Bay, after a voyage of eight months
and one week. The Governor employed a short time in examining, but had
not seen any spot to which some strong objection did not apply. If in
one place he met with a promising soil, it was deficient in that grand
essential, fresh water, and was besides too confined for their numbers.
He therefore determined on examining the adjacent harbours of Port
Jackson and Broken Bay, and for that purpose set off in three open boats
accompanied by some of the officers of the settlement.

“The coast as he drew near Port Jackson wore a most unpromising
appearance, and the natives every where greeted the fleet with shouts of
defiance and prohibition, the words “Warra, warra,” Go away, go away,
resounding wherever they appeared. The Governor’s utmost expectation, as
he drew near the harbour, being to find what Captain Cook, as he passed
by it, thought might be found, shelter for a boat, he was most agreeably
surprised at discovering, on his entrance, a harbour capable of
affording security for a much larger fleet than would probably ever seek
shelter or security within its limits.

“In one of the coves of this noble and capacious harbour, he determined
to fix the future seat of his government, it having been found to
possess a sufficiency of water and soil. Having completed his research
in three days, he returned to Botany Bay, and gave directions for an
immediate removal thence; a circumstance which gave general
satisfaction, as nothing had been discovered in that place which could
excite a wish to pass another day in it.”

The place of settlement thus fixed on is the present town of Sydney,
which has since then increased in a very remarkable degree. In Van
Diemen’s Land, also under the jurisdiction of the Governor of New South
Wales, a similar establishment has been subsequently formed. Both these
colonies are increasing rapidly; moderate encouragement having been held
out to free settlers, and many of them have become highly prosperous
there: the convicts too, after the termination of their banishment,
having become accustomed to the country, and informed of its great
natural advantages, induced also by the fineness of the climate and the
luxuriance of its soil, have, rather than return home, determined to
become settlers,—and wisely so, as some of them are already in a very
thriving way.

The original mode of transportation was, that merchants, or
agriculturists of property, might contract for the conveyance of the
convicts to their destination, under an act of parliament, removing them
to their estates in the colony; and appropriating to their own benefit
their services, they found their work in the plantations during the term
of their sentence an indemnification for the expenses incurred by their
voyage, clothing, and subsequent maintenance.

It seems, however, that Government did not finally approve of contracts
made in this manner by private individuals, as the authority of such
persons, or its management, was found too weak to enforce proper
obedience, and secure from the evils of insubordination. Moreover, the
management of the convicts remaining exclusively in the hands of the
contractors, the convicts might, at the expiration of their time,
feeling themselves no longer restrained by their former task-masters,
have emancipated themselves with regard to their employers, and, if
opposed violently, have shaken off all submission to their jurisdiction.
Hence anarchy might ensue, and the bad disposition of the convicts would
then burst forth with increased violence, and the peaceable and
industrious settlers around be annoyed and plundered. Such incidents
have occurred in Van Diemen’s Land, where convicts, denominated
Bush-rangers, who had broken away from the restraint placed over them,
have for several years led a vagabond, marauding life, harassing and
plundering the peaceful colonists.

On Government, therefore, would devolve, in consequence of the
feebleness or incapacity of private management, the unpleasant duty of
beginning the work of reformation over again, to reclaim the convicts
from their mad schemes, make them honest subjects, and thoroughly
obedient to the laws; or allow the laws again, in all the severity of
former measures, to visit them with summary punishment.

In order to obviate this inconvenience, and to avoid the expenses which
under such circumstances must be thrown away, Government itself has
taken the contracts for transportation, and, from the superior national
resources, provides a more comfortable supply of necessaries and
accommodations than any which could have been obtained under the former
arrangement.

After the sentence of the law has been fulfilled in the colony, those
who remain are still amenable of course to the authority of the local
Government. During their servitude, care is taken to promote their
habits of industry, if they have acquired or shown any such; and,
particularly if they manifest an improvement in moral character, and
conduct themselves with propriety, every facility is afforded them to
become settlers, and useful members of the colony; or, if they be
desirous of returning to Europe, a passage home is readily permitted,
but at their own expense, and a certificate granted descriptive of
character during the term of transportation.

Lately this benignant purpose has been carried further; for, if the
father of a family have had the misfortune to fall under the frowns of
justice, and should his conduct subsequently in New South Wales merit
the approbation of the Governor, he will obtain His Excellency’s
recommendation, and is sure of being favoured with an order from the
Government at home for his wife and children to go out to him in that
country, where in a short time they have been known to form comfortable
and prosperous establishments. A very liberal provision is made for the
free women and children during the voyage, for which no charge whatever
is made against them, or their father, on the part of the Government.

The inducements to form a settlement in New South Wales are so numerous,
and the advantages so great and inviting, particularly to laborious
industry, that numbers have applied for the sanction of Government to be
sent out to that country; but, having no apparent sufficient funds, have
been refused, on account of the great length of the voyage, and the
necessary and unavoidable expense. It is however well known, and the
fact has been ascertained beyond question, that many instances have
occurred of persons, so refused, having afterwards committed some
offence which subjected them to transportation, and thus effected their
purpose at the expense of the Government.

The liberality with which convicts destined for transportation are
clothed and victualled for the voyage, now usually of four months
duration, is highly deserving of praise, many of the persons so
circumstanced, or rather the majority of them, living more comfortably,
by many degrees, during that period, than they had been used to do for
many years before. Although, according to the present regulations, they
unfortunately have nothing in the way of employment to occupy their time
on the way out; still as the greatest care is taken of their health, at
the same time that they are abundantly fed, they generally look well,
and are in perfect health, by the period of their arrival, and fully
capable of proceeding to any work without delay.

As the public may not, perhaps, be generally informed of the minor
particulars of the preparations and reception of convicts, and the
outfit necessary for the voyage, it may not be deemed out of place to
set forth here the comforts provided for them during their conveyance to
New South Wales or Van Diemen’s Land. Every convict received on board
the ship which is to convey the number determined by Government for
transportation, is provided with one suit of clothes and a change of
linen, besides a flock bed, pillow, and blanket; and the following
weekly supply of provisions is regularly served out to a mess of six
persons in each.


               _Plan of Rations for each Mess per Week._

 ┌─────────┬─────┬─────┬────┬────┬──────┬────┬────┬────┬──────┬──────┬────┐
 │ Days of │Bread│Flour│Beef│Pork│ Peas │But-│Rice│Suet│ Rai- │Oat^l.│Sug-│
 │the week.│lbs. │lbs. │lbs.│lbs.│pints.│ter │ozs.│lbs.│s^{ns}│pints.│ ar │
 │         │     │     │    │    │      │lbs.│    │    │ lbs. │      │oz. │
 ├───────┬─┼─────┼─────┼────┼────┼──────┼────┼────┼────┼──────┼──────┼────┤
 │Sunday │1│    4│    4│   8│    │      │    │    │   ½│     1│      │    │
 ├───────┼─┼─────┼─────┼────┼────┼──────┼────┼────┼────┼──────┼──────┼────┤
 │Monday │2│    4│     │    │    │     3│   ½│   4│    │      │     2│   2│
 ├───────┼─┼─────┼─────┼────┼────┼──────┼────┼────┼────┼──────┼──────┼────┤
 │Tuesday│3│    4│    4│    │    │      │    │    │   ½│     1│      │    │
 ├───────┼─┼─────┼─────┼────┼────┼──────┼────┼────┼────┼──────┼──────┼────┤
 │Wednes-│4│    4│     │    │   6│     3│   ½│    │    │      │      │    │
 │day    │ │     │     │    │    │      │    │    │    │      │      │    │
 ├───────┼─┼─────┼─────┼────┼────┼──────┼────┼────┼────┼──────┼──────┼────┤
 │Thurs- │5│    4│    4│    │    │      │    │    │   ½│     1│     2│    │
 │day    │ │     │     │    │    │      │    │    │    │      │      │    │
 ├───────┼─┼─────┼─────┼────┼────┼──────┼────┼────┼────┼──────┼──────┼────┤
 │Friday │6│    4│     │   8│    │     3│   ½│    │    │      │      │    │
 ├───────┼─┼─────┼─────┼────┼────┼──────┼────┼────┼────┼──────┼──────┼────┤
 │Satur- │7│    4│     │    │    │     3│    │   4│    │      │     2│   2│
 │day    │ │     │     │    │    │      │    │    │    │      │      │    │
 ├───────┴─┼─────┼─────┼────┼────┼──────┼────┼────┼────┼──────┼──────┼────┤
 │  Total  │   28│   12│  16│   6│    12│  1½│   8│  1½│     3│     6│   4│
 └─────────┴─────┴─────┴────┴────┴──────┴────┴────┴────┴──────┴──────┴────┘

Besides the above liberal allowance, there is a further issue, each
week, of one quart of vinegar to each mess, and after the ship has been
at sea three or four weeks, one ounce of lemon juice and an equal
quantity of sugar is also to be issued to each convict daily. The period
for which it has been usual to put the provisions on board the transport
ships has been eight months; besides this, each convict is allowed one
hundred and twenty gallons of water, and two gallons of wine, the latter
to be distributed specially at the Surgeon’s discretion, and under his
immediate superintendence. The women are allowed wine in the same
proportion as the men convicts, and subject to the same restriction in
its use: they have also a like proportion of provisions, with an
addition of three pounds of muscovado sugar, and half a pound of black
tea, per week, for each mess of six women.

When fresh beef is issued, one pound is equal to a pound of salt beef,
and one pound and a half of fresh beef to one pound of pork. If
vegetables are supplied on pork days, then no peas are to be issued; but
if not, the peas are to be served. There can be no mistake as to the
correctness of this statement, as it is copied from the printed document
called the Victualling Scheme, which is addressed to the Master of the
Convict Ship from the Transport Office, Deptford, regularly before the
voyage is begun.

The sleeping place assigned the convicts is within that part of the ship
called the prison, taking the whole space of the ship between decks,
except the necessary accommodation for the Master, Officers, and Seamen,
expressly fitted up for their reception: it is divided into, what in
sea-phrase are termed, _births_, each to contain four persons, for which
purpose, whatever has been represented, it is sufficiently roomy. The
bedding is carefully brought upon deck every morning to be aired, when
the weather will permit, and is stowed regularly for that purpose in the
netting, where it may be kept dry, should any rain unexpectedly fall.

Besides the suit of clothes given to each prisoner on coming aboard,
another is provided, which is intended to be given them on landing at
their place of destination: this, as well as the former, is of a uniform
fashion and colour, to distinguish them from the free settlers, and to
render them easily recognisable by the police. It should be also
mentioned, that the free women sent out to join their husbands, are
allowed two thirds of a seaman’s ration _per diem_, and the children one
half the women’s allowance.

There is, besides the ample stock of provisions, a liberal supply of
extra stores shipped at the same time, for the use and accommodation of
the convicts, and also for such as may become sick during the voyage.
As, however, the quantity of these articles is not always the same,
varying in each ship according to the number of prisoners on board, I
shall submit for full satisfaction a list of such as came under my own
observation, as a proportionate view of the manner in which the extra
supply is generally made. The following is a correct copy of the list of
extra stores and necessaries allowed on board the _Neptune_, in which
ship I was surgeon and superintendent in 1817, and is an undeniable
proof of the humane concern Government takes in the welfare of those
unfortunate persons.

[Sidenote: _Navy Office,
           28th Nov. 1817._]

    A List of Stores shipped on board the Neptune Convict Ship, Robert
    Carns Master, for the use of 170 male convicts, guard and
    passengers, during their voyage to New South Wales. And of
    clothing for the use of the convicts upon their arrival at the
    colony.


             _Articles of Comfort for Use during the Voyage._

    Mustard, 170 lbs.: Soap, 510: combs, 31 large, 31 small, No. 62:
    razors, 10: hone, 1: strop, 1: preserved meats, 476 lbs., value
    42_l._ 10_s._: lemon juice, 242 gallons: sugar to mix with it,
    1,939 lbs.


                     _Articles in case of Sickness._

    Tea, 34 lbs.: sugar, 170: chocolate, 10: sago, 20: Scotch barley,
    340: ginger, 1: black pepper, 3: allspice, 6: red port wine, 102
    bottles: rice, 24 lbs.: pearl barley, 24.


                          _Fumigating Articles._

    Tar, 1 barrel: crude brimstone, 60 lbs.: vinegar, 60 gallons:
    fumigating lamps, 2: extra wicks, 2 boxes: oil, 4 gallons: oil of
    tar, 10.


                          _Hospital Furniture._

    Duck frocks, 10: flannel trowsers, 10 pairs: flannel waistcoats,
    10: cotton hose, ——: pocket-handkerchiefs, 20: night-caps, 20:
    towels, 20: sheets, 34: calico pillow-cases, 34: pewter pans, 2:
    urinals, 2: spitting-pots, 2: pans and buckets, of each 2: tin
    teakettles, 4: tin saucepans, of sorts, 10: tin japanned drinking
    mugs, 20: knives and forks, 20 of each: water purifier, 1:
    charcoal, 20 bushels: bathing tub, 1: airing stove, ventilating,
    and swing, each 1: pails 4: kegs (three gallon), 28: spare
    bedding, 17 sets.


         _Clothing for the Use of the Convicts on their Arrival._

    Yellow kersey jackets, 170: waistcoats, 170: raven duck trowsers,
    170 pairs: for use during voyage, 170: shirts, 510: stockings, 340
    pairs: shoes, 170: woollen caps, 170: and neck-handkerchiefs, 170.

    In addition to the above, 2 cots were also supplied in case of
    fractured limbs, besides a proper stock of medicines from the
    Apothecaries’ Hall.

    The extra articles furnished for the female convicts on board the
    _Morley_ in the last voyage, and for the free women and children
    embarked at the same time were as follow.

[Sidenote: _Navy Office,
           Transport Department,
           20th April 1820._]

    A List of Stores shipped on board the Morley Convict Ship, Robert
    Brown Master, for the use of 120 female convicts, passengers, and
    50 children, during their voyage to New South Wales, or Van
    Diemen’s Land, and of clothing for the use of the convicts upon
    their arrival at the colony.


             _Articles of Comfort for Use during the Voyage._

    Mustard, 157 lbs.: soap, 785: combs, large and small, of each 22:
    needles, 1,200: scissors, 12 pairs: moist sugar, 2,072 lbs.:
    souchong, 452: preserved meats, 439 and 10 ounces: lemon juice,
    252 gallons: sugar to mix with it, 1,792 lbs.: white thread, 12:
    coloured thread, 12: towels, 240.


                     _Articles in case of Sickness._

    Tea, 31 lbs.: sugar, 157: chocolate 9½: sago, 18: Scotch barley,
    314: ginger, ¾: allspice, 6: black pepper, 3: red port wine, 94
    bottles.


                          _Hospital Furniture._

    Calico bed-gowns, 8: petticoats, 8: cotton hose, 15 pairs: linen
    pocket-handkerchiefs, 15: night-caps, 15: towels, 15: linen
    sheets, 12 pairs: pillow-cases, 24: pewter pans and urinals, of
    each 2:, and bucket, of each 2: spitting-pots, 2: tin saucepans,
    2: teakettles, 2: ditto to serve as teapots, 21: knives and forks,
    15 of each: bathing tub, 1: water purifier, 1: childbed linen, 12
    sets: charcoal, 20 bushels: water pails, 3: airing stove, 1: half
    pint tin japanned mugs, 120: swing stove, 1: spare beds, 12:
    kegs[2] (three gallons), 27.


        _Clothing for the Use of the Convicts upon their Arrival._

    Brown serge jackets, 120: petticoats, 120: linen shifts, 240:
    linen caps, 120: stockings, 120 pairs: shoes, 120 pairs:
    neck-handkerchiefs, 120: beds complete, 170: cots, 4: hammocks
    slung, 6.


                     _Clothing for 17 Male Children._

    Blue kersey jackets, 17: waistcoats, 17: raven duck trowsers, 17
    pairs: shirts, 51: stockings, 34 pairs: woollen caps, 17:
    neck-handkerchiefs, 17: shoes, 17 pairs.


                    _Clothing for 33 Female Children._

    Brown serge jackets, 33: petticoats, 33: linen shifts, 66: linen
    caps, 33: stockings, 33 pairs: shoes, 33: neck-handkerchiefs, 33.


                                 _Books._

    New Testaments, 33: prayer books, 46: psalters, 46: Bibles[3], 12:
    manuals of instruction and devotion for the use of the prisoners,
    11.

The above ample and truly liberal supply of provisions and extra
articles for the use of the convicts is well worthy of notice, as it is
fully equal to every want to which they are liable; and the minute
particulars are attended to with a concern highly laudable to the
directors of this supply. Indeed, many persons emigrating to distant
countries would consider themselves exceedingly at ease were they
individually as well circumstanced, though driven by the pressure or
dread of domestic distress to seek relief far from their early homes,
with an honest name, and unreproving conscience, yet supplied with
accommodations infinitely short of those thought necessary in providing
for the transmission of the idle, dissolute and criminal, branded with
infamy and crime for which they are driven from society.

The land forces sent to guard the convicts have a daily allowance of
spirits, but are not so well provided for as the prisoners in respect of
several extra articles served to the prisoners, though the use of
spirits on the voyage (an allowance certainly contributing to no good
purpose whatever, and productive of very serious bad consequences,
particularly as the quantity issued is too great by one half, allowing
even of so unnecessary an indulgence) is happily not suffered to the
convicts. The wives of soldiers also, and their children, have a
proportionate ration of this baneful liquid, which over their weaker
minds may be said to exert a most dangerous influence, injurious to
their health and morals, and subversive of good order.

Although the matter be not immediately, it is remotely and intimately
connected with the subject of transportation. I shall therefore place it
here, to show how generously convicts fare comparatively with others. At
the same time I am anxious that nothing advanced in this comparison may
prove injurious to the unfortunate exile, who is lying at the mercy of
that power which directs his removal to a new world, and an almost new
state of existence, nor withdraw from him a tittle of that bountiful
support he now enjoys.

    “Rules to be observed by Masters and Commanders of His Majesty’s
    hired Transports, in victualling Land Forces.


     _Six Soldiers’, or four Seamen’s Allowance for every Day in the
                                  Week._

 ┌───────┬──────┬─────┬──────┬──────┬──────┬──────┬───────┬───────┬─────┐
 │Days of│Bread:│Beer,│Beef: │Pork: │Peas: │ Oat- │Butter:│Cheese:│Vine-│
 │the    │ lbs. │gal- │pieces│pieces│pints.│meal: │ lbs.  │ lbs.  │gar. │
 │week.  │      │lons:│ of 8 │ of 4 │      │pints.│       │       │     │
 │       │      │ or  │ lbs. │ lbs. │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │half │      │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │pint │      │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │spir-│      │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │its: │      │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │ or  │      │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │pints│      │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │wine.│      │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 ├───────┼──────┼─────┼──────┼──────┼──────┼──────┼───────┼───────┼─────┤
 │Sunday │  4   │  4  │      │  1   │  2   │      │       │       │ One │
 │       │      │     │      │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │Monday │  4   │  4  │      │      │      │  4   │   ½   │   1   │quart│
 │       │      │     │      │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │Tuesday│  4   │  4  │      │      │      │      │       │       │ in  │
 │       │      │     │——————│      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │Wednes-│  4   │  4  │  1   │      │  2   │  4   │   ½   │   1   │  a  │
 │day    │      │     │      │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │     │ or 6 │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │     │ lbs. │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │     │  of  │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │Thurs- │  4   │  4  │flour,│  1   │  2   │      │       │       │week.│
 │day    │      │     │½ lb. │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │     │  of  │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │     │suet, │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │     │ & 1  │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │     │ lb.  │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │Friday │  4   │  4  │  of  │      │  2   │  4   │   ½   │   1   │     │
 │       │      │     │rais- │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │     │ ins. │      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │       │      │     │——————│      │      │      │       │       │     │
 │Satur- │  4   │  4  │1 or as above│      │      │       │       │     │
 │day    │      │     │             │      │      │       │       │     │
 └───────┴──────┴─────┴─────────────┴──────┴──────┴───────┴───────┴─────┘

    “The above are to be served out by full weights and measures.

    “When flour, suet, and raisins are put on board, they are to be
    served in equal proportion with beef, viz. one half in beef, the
    other in flour, suet, and raisins, on each beef day.

    “Half a pound of rice is equal to a pint of oatmeal; half a pound
    of sugar is equal to half a pound of butter, and a pint of rice is
    equal to a pound of cheese; a pint of oil is equal to 1 pound of
    butter, or to two pounds of cheese, that is, a pint of oil for the
    proportion of butter and cheese.

    “A pint of wine, or half a pint of brandy, rum or arrack, is equal
    to a gallon of beer.

    “One pound of fresh beef is equal to one pound of salt beef, and
    one pound and a half of fresh beef equal to one pound of pork.”

The seamen above alluded to, to whom the rations of the convict guard
are proportioned, are those serving on board His Majesty’s ships and
vessels of war. All that long list of extra comforts, before mentioned,
to which convicts by their regulations are entitled, are in the case of
the soldiers entirely withheld; for which reason, and indeed for a great
many others, the situation of the prisoners is much more comfortable
than that of their guard. Of this superiority in point of living,
considering the casualties and uncertainty of supply many of them had
formerly experienced, most of them express usually a strong regret at
the termination of their voyage, persuaded that few situations on shore
could equal the comfort they had enjoyed on board. When, after the
boisterous stir of stormy passion has subsided, and that religious and
moral instruction have stifled the last gasp of the insidious serpent
which would whisper them back again to sin and wickedness, this
expression of regret, as I have known it from the people on board the
Neptune, is infinitely more strong, and the sense of separation from the
favourite scene of their reformation more acute.

Many circumstances connected with the present system of transportation
appear, in my opinion, so much deserving of attention, that it may be
allowed to introduce them here, in a cursory manner, leaving their
elucidation to the progress of incident, during the voyage to which they
belong.

In the first instance I consider the situation of juvenile offenders,
under the present regulations on board of male convict ships, as less
fitly directed than their peculiar circumstances require. This is, that
a portion of the prison be set apart for them, and confined so as to
prevent any intercourse between them and the men. The reasons advanced
in favour of this separation seemed to me at first view so plausible,
that I unhesitatingly gave the measure my warm approbation. It has
fallen to me, however, to witness its pernicious effects, and to know
that nothing can be contrived to injure them more both in health and
morals, than that very regulation; that, so far from being corrupted by
an intercourse with the men, they are more likely to be checked and
improved by their society. With this conviction on my mind, I would, in
all deference to superior authority, presume to advise that on board a
male convict ship there should be no separate prison for boys.

Any person acquainted with the general depravity which characterizes
most of the boys who are banished after a few months confinement in
prison, will not hesitate to acknowledge that they are usually more
corrupt and vicious than many of the grown up, and display traits of
acuteness and refinement in knavery sufficient to astonish older adepts.
These boys in general are very deeply conversant with immorality and
turpitude; and the boys on board the Neptune, according to information I
received which left no room for doubt, exhibited this disposition in a
manner at once shocking to delicacy, and subversive of every principle
of virtue.

Taking advantage of the separation, they indulged in certain wicked
practices, and from the privacy thus secured to them, they became every
day more and more prevalent, and, had the matter not been discovered in
proper time, would have ended in the inevitable destruction of the
unfortunate youths. In this critical moment I had the separating bars
pulled down immediately, and threw both the prisons into one. I thought
it a further necessary proceeding to break up the boys’ messes, which
before were distinct, and divide them among the messes of the men; all
which was done without apprizing any of them of my knowledge of the
disgusting cause. One of the most steady members of each mess was
instructed to have a sharp look-out after his young companion, and let
me know the most minute particulars of his conduct.

In this manner a visible change was soon effected, which was further
improved by separating them still more from each other, placing them to
sleep, one in each of the men’s berths, sending some men at the same
time to sleep in their places with those who remained in that part which
before was the boys’ prison. Although this cautionary proceeding
effectually put an end to the odious practice which first drew my
attention to the particular state of the boys, still the work remained
in my mind far from being accomplished.

The seeds of vice having once taken root are not easily removed; some of
the fibres will still remain, and the tares and weeds will again and
again, we know, spring forth and disfigure the best of soils. I made the
theatre of their wickedness a place for their reformation. Having formed
all the boys into a school, I obtained a number of Bibles and
Testaments, there being no other books of any kind on board fit for the
purpose, and with these I tried to ascertain how many of them could
read. To my utter amazement, I found that of all these boys, who were so
ripe in knavery and fraud, and were ready and fluent in their own forms
of speech, and were of course totally ignorant of the contents of the
sacred volumes, because not able to read a syllable of their contents,
few of them could distinguish the letters of the alphabet.

One of the elder convicts, whose conduct had secured my approbation, was
selected to be their schoolmaster, and by his patient perseverance they
were soon brought surprisingly forward. I encouraged them by
representing the great advantages they would derive from application;
and had the pleasure of seeing them all eagerly engaged in one of the
roads at least to religion and virtue. In this gratifying scene I took
particular interest, and made it an uniform practice to set apart an
hour each day from professional engagements personally to instruct them.

Many advantages were thus obtained by finding sufficient employment for
the greater part of their time; while, from the nature of the subject
which they were engaged to study, they became regularly acquainted with
moral and religious truths. By this simple proceeding, also, these boys’
minds became every day more enlightened, and a visible change for the
better in every respect grew more evident, until at the end of the
voyage I had the high satisfaction of seeing them, as far as general
conduct went, considerably if not completely reformed; their vicious
habits appearing quite subdued, and the greater number able to read the
Scriptures correctly and fluently. They had also the advantage of taking
with them to their new modes of life, a knowledge at least of reading
well, which could not fail in some way or other to promote their future
welfare.

Nothing is more hurtful, it is well known, to the human mind than
idleness; it is at variance with every good and noble purpose, depriving
the most highly gifted of their natural energy, and derogating more
almost than any other vice from the dignity of our nature. The most
intelligent and active becomes under its drowsy power feeble, and in
time brutalized: the brightest portion of intellectual fire which has
risen from the bidding of benignant Deity, becomes dim, and dwindles in
its damping medium. If then the loftier faculties of the soul lose their
fine tone and tension when paralysed by this humiliating influence, how
easily must the vulgar and selfish fall supine and unresisting to its
mandates! Involved in habits tending chiefly to the gratifications of
sense, the uneducated and thoroughly depraved relish nothing which does
not pamper their passions, insensible as the swine in the mire of
sensuality into which they plunge, rarely to rise again. The habits and
scenes familiar to life in common society generally form the subjects of
pleasing reflection or agreeable conversation: it is natural to the
memory actively on all occasions to bring up its brightest stores to
divert the passing hour of contemplation or association. What with
virtuous minds is thus conducive to the advance of virtue, becomes in
those of vicious life and disposition a source of further mischief.

A voyage of four months, for instance, is to be taken by a number of
convicts; its effects will vary undoubtedly in age, sex, and moral
character. During that period, what are one hundred and seventy, or two
hundred persons to do? The authority which dismisses to exile, takes
certainly a generous concern for their bodily health, and no pains are
spared to prevent them from feeling any want. Yet the most essential
part of economical polity, _employment_, belongs not to the system, and
is without consideration. Without that simple adjunct, one which most
obviously should suggest itself to the present regulations in the
transmission of convicts to New South Wales, the prisoners must during
the voyage become subject to sickness, or sink a degree deeper in
depravity.

That this result is uniformly anticipated I have very little reason to
doubt; rather I might say I have very good proofs to establish my belief
that such an opinion prevails amongst many who derive their information
from the highest intelligence existing on the subject. It is not
therefore matter of surprise, that such persons should deride, or rather
disbelieve, the possibility of those degraded beings ever being saved
from the evils of their lot, and becoming better than before.

It would doubtless be gratifying to those to direct at once the removal
of the evil of idleness, in devising and devoting the vacant hours of
the convicts to useful employment during the period of the voyage. I say
useful, for if the employment be of a nugatory character, the prisoners
will feel no desire to proceed with it: indeed the object might be
considerably promoted, were the work of such a nature as to give them a
personal concern in the execution by allowing them a small interest in
the profits.

It must be confessed that the difficulty of finding proper employment
during a voyage of about four or five months may in some degree occasion
embarrassment. The greater number of those who are subjected to
transportation are of the working class, and many of them have at one
time or other of their lives exercised some mechanical art, which may
perhaps be resumed with ease. All then who are acquainted with sedentary
trades, might, one would think, be properly so employed, and also
instruct others at the work, or such parts of it in which their
assistance might be rendered useful.

When a man finds himself restored to the exercise of accustomed
employment, his cheerfulness, we find, returns, and his captivity sits
more lightly. Such a man will become of himself orderly in his conduct,
and exert himself to keep others so. The alarm about prisoners rising
upon their guards will be as problematical in theory, as it is now in
reality; making persons of weak mind and _hobgoblin_ imagination
miserable at the bare mention of its possibility. In fact, convicts so
circumstanced can never be guilty of an action so truly foolish in its
intent, and fruitless and absurd in its proposed advantages. They will
have time for reflection, thus best excited and promoted in such
characters, on the futility of their former designs, and on the just
value of blessings enjoyed in the good effects arising from obedience
and implicit observance of the regulations by which they are governed.

Feeling themselves treated with moderation and humanity, and that their
lives are preserved to them for rational and useful purposes, they will
maintain a respect for themselves, and take care to avoid reproof, which
to men enduring disgrace, and therefore ever testy and impatient, ought
to be applied as seldom as possible. Let them be made sensible that
their own welfare is solely in view, and they will listen cheerfully to
the voice of authority, and knowing that in the moral and religious
truths inculcated their peace of mind and future happiness are intended,
they will turn an attentive ear to instruction.

They will evince their gratitude for such care by submission and
deference to every command, and the transition from that state of mind
to attachment is more easy, and its results more permanent, than may be
supposed. Let not this be considered illusory, or the offspring merely
of imagination; for I have proved it, and refer in affirmation of the
above result confidently to the narrative of the voyage in the Neptune
as extracted from the journal of daily occurrences. Of this termination
of well applied measures in the management of convicts during their
transmission to the colonies, am I so fully assured, that I would not
hesitate to commit myself in a ship manned by _convicts only_, and,
provided they understood the management of the vessel, with confidence
trust to their conducting her safely without other assistance to Port
Jackson.

A good deal has been advanced against intrusting mechanics with the
implements of their trades for the purpose of employment. Establish but
once the orderly conduct which is so easy of accomplishment; attach the
people by the ties of gratitude, of their susceptibility of which
satisfactory proofs will be given; take a prudent care that your
confidence in them will be felt, and the most timorous need not
hesitate, I affirm, to allow them the free use of their tools, and
permit the full exercise of their trades.

The aptitude which boys usually display may also be usefully turned to
account, and by instructing and having them to work in the interval
between the hours of school, they can be made industrious, and harmless
at least on the voyage outwards, and may afterwards follow on shore the
trades they may have learned on board the ship. At all events, what can
be objected to the experiment being fairly tried of employing the
convicts during their voyage to New South Wales, as to the success of
which I entertain no doubt?

The remarks which suit the condition of male convicts may apply with
equal, if not with greater force to that of females. The happy effects
of the memorable results produced by the LADIES’ COMMITTEE in Newgate,
are so fully corroborative of this advantage of employment over
idleness, that it must appear superfluous to detail the proceedings of
that benevolent association, of which satisfactory evidence has already
been made known.

As, however, there was provided no stock of materials with which the
women on board the Morley could apply the industry they had exercised in
Newgate, no preparations being contemplated, by the regulations, for any
sort of employment, the voyage would have been rendered extremely
irksome and injurious both to their moral principles and health, as
consequent upon relaxed habits, if they had been supposed wholly to
remain idle.

Fortunately the benevolent watchfulness of the Committee foresaw this
inconvenience, and in a considerable degree provided against it by
sending on board a supply of straw materials for bonnets, hats, and the
like, and other things calculated to employ their time, to which the
closest attention has been occasionally given. Many other of the
prisoners, whose circumstances could afford it, had provided themselves
with unmade dresses, and these afforded work to fill up many otherwise
more tedious hours.

The beneficial effects would undoubtedly be more obvious, were full work
marked out for them with materials provided before the voyage; for
instance, linen and cotton yarn for stockings, which, to prevent any
imposition, could be weighed out to the workers, and the manufactured
article, which is always certain of sale, weighed in the same manner
when returned. Numerous contrivances of the same kind could be
suggested, all productive of much advantage to the prisoners, while the
wrought goods could be brought to a ready and profitable market, so as
to suffer no loss in the application of the raw materials.

As my aim is solely practical improvement in the condition of these
unfortunate persons, I would not have a moment lost in setting them,
young and old, to some sort of employment, and turning their time to
useful account. With this view, and in direct compliance with the
suggestions and co-operation of Mrs. FRY, a school was established on
board the Morley for all the children, as well belonging to the convicts
as to the free women; and one of the latter, whose qualifications
recommended her to the approval of the Committee, by whom she was
employed and remunerated, undertook to instruct them, male and female,
in reading and a knowledge of the Scriptures. In the course of the
following remarks, the progress of the children in their school
business, and other improvements, will not pass unobserved.

By these regulations a saving might be made as to the colonial
expenditure, inasmuch as the convicts, by following their different arts
with industry, some those they had long known previously to their
misfortunes, and others such as they had acquired during their voyage,
or in the time of their preceding confinement, might provide abundantly
for themselves. They would therefore be less burdensome to the local
government, and the improvements they will thus necessarily have made in
morality, will ensure a peaceful and steady demeanour; nor is it
extravagant to assert, that men and women so treated and instructed,
will continue long sensible of the advantages they have derived from
such a rational and judicious management, reflected in exemplary and
generally correct conduct. There may be one or more still found
disorderly; but upon the whole the best results may with perfect
confidence be anticipated.

-----

Footnote 2:

  It has been hitherto the custom to withhold these from the female
  convict ships.

Footnote 3:

  There ought to be at least one Bible for each mess.




                              CHAPTER II.

                         VOYAGE IN THE NEPTUNE.


On being appointed Surgeon and Superintendent on board the Neptune, Male
Convict Ship, in 1817, I was anxious to avail myself of the opportunity
which appeared favourable for forming a correct opinion on the actual
state of that duty, and its concerns. It appeared the more necessary
that I should come to a just understanding of the influence which the
moral principle held over the prisoners’ minds, as on that I intended to
ground my future proceedings. A brief summary of the crimes marked
against the names of those prisoners committed to my care, extracted
from the list which accompanied them on board, and on which I made my
private observations, is subjoined for the satisfaction of the reader;
and the accuracy of the statement may be relied on, as it came to me
officially notified.

The punishment of transportation for life, undoubtedly severe, yet less
so, one gladly allows, than that absolute forfeiture of life which the
existing laws demand, affords a melancholy picture of human depravity,
and the lamentable prevalence of crime, which makes its frequent
recurrence necessary, the convicts transported for life being actually
one half, it will be seen, of the entire number in this instance sent
out of the country. The major part of that number most probably were
respited from capital punishment by the royal clemency, or owe their
lives to the compassion of the Juries that tried them.


    _List of the Crimes of the Male Convicts per the Neptune, 1817._

                                                    Convicts.
          Forgery                                           8
          Housebreaking                                     6
          Robbery in a dwelling house                       3
          Stealing in a dwelling house                     10
          Burglary                                         28
          Highway robbery                                   7
          Horse stealing                                    8
          Felony                                           44
          Sheep stealing                                    7
          Cow stealing                                      1
          Frame breaking                                    1
          Desertion                                         2
          Assault and robbery                               1
          Having forged notes                               6
          Stealing from a person                            1
          Stealing—various small thefts                    17
          Grand larceny                                    10
          Larceny                                           1
          Capital respite (one of these an infidel)         6
          Obtaining goods by false pretences                1
          Breaking out of prison                            1
          Aiding in ditto                                   1
                                                          ———
                            Total                         170
                                                          ———

The enormity of the offences, of which these men had been found guilty,
may be estimated by a glance to the punishments annexed to their names.

                                               Convicts.
                Transported for life                  85
                Transported for fourteen years        33
                Transported for seven years           52
                                                     ———
                            Total                    170
                                                     ———

The different offences with which they had been charged, and for which
they were sentenced, were less a criterion, perhaps, than a report of
characters with which they came accompanied from the Hulks, whence they
were shipped for transportation. Of these the following is a concise
view, being an abstract of the Report then given.


              _Abstract View of Convicts as to Character._

                                                           Convicts.
   Bad character                                                  34
   Old offenders                                                  17
   Good                                                            1
   Very bad character                                             10
   Orderly                                                        43
   Very orderly                                                    2
   Indifferent                                                     4
   An infidel                                                      1
   New prisoners not reported on, transported for life            24
   New prisoners not reported on, transported for 14 years        10
   Transported before                                              6
   Second sentence, orderly                                        6
   Belonging to a gang, bad                                        2
   Old thief, orderly                                              1
   Noted pickpockets, behaved well                                 5
   Behaved very well, convicts for felony                          4
                                                                 ———
                            Total                                170
                                                                 ———

These were the materials on which a system of amendment was to be tried;
and it must be confessed that when every circumstance was considered,
the task could not but be deemed repugnant. A general character of
violence and desperate daring had long been identified with the inmates
of prisons; and here were presented crimes of a description not likely
to remove such an unfavourable impression.

The opinion universally prevailing for many years of the irreclaimable
state of convicts, both male and female, rendered the superintendence of
them on board the vessels which conveyed them to the colony, in every
respect a heartless undertaking, if any thing like reform were had in
contemplation. If at any time an experiment to that effect had been
made, its failure only contributed to make a renewal of the attempt
useless, or even mischievous; for the depraved, watchful of failure in
the endeavours to restrain their bad passions, rarely abstain from
enjoying it as a victory and converting it to wicked purposes.

For many reasons, therefore, that situation was looked upon as one of
extreme difficulty, and in many instances of hazard. The convicts were
on this account treated as irrational beings; in dens like wild beasts;
like them fed and kept in the closest restraint consistent with their
health. The conduct of the prisoners in general seemed to justify severe
measures of precaution and confinement. Many accounts of their having
made attempts to regain their liberty; rising on their guards; and
endeavouring to take possession of the ship, for the purpose of
proceeding to a port remote from their place of destination, had been in
circulation; but in no instance have any of those daring enterprises
even in part succeeded, except in one which occurred about the beginning
of 1798.

At that time the system of transportation, it appears, was not so well
organized as at present; for when a ship had been taken up for female
convicts, if the proper number were not ready, the vacant portion was
filled with male convicts to be secured in a separate prison. The _Lady
Shore_ was engaged as a convict transport on such an occasion, and the
consequences of placing male and female prisoners in the same ship
unfortunately became evident, although the number of women was
inconsiderable. In the course of the voyage an illicit intercourse had
taken place between the female convicts and the sailors, of which it
seems the male convicts, together with the recruits for the New South
Wales corps which were on board, took advantage, by making the women
induce the sailors to assist them in taking the ship.

The plan was so well laid that the design was not at all suspected,
until one night, when the sailors had liberated the prisoners both male
and female, and were joined by the recruits, a general mutinous rising
took place. The commander and his first mate were murdered; and the
ship, containing, besides the public stores, a great deal of private
property, (which was a heavy loss to the colony,) was taken and carried
away to the river _La Plata_, where she was delivered up to the
Spaniards. The prisoners, however, I believe, most of them, were
afterwards sent again in pursuance of their sentence.

Even when in any attempts of such a nature the convicts have been
disappointed, their plans being detected before they were ripe for
execution, their licentious and abandoned conduct still frequently
continued to excite alarm, and to keep the guards on constant and
harassing duty. The various artifices to which some of those desperate
and dangerous characters had recourse, if detailed, would run to great
length; but it is sufficient merely to mention the above incident, to
show that the conveyance of convicts to the colonies is an undertaking
not free from care and anxiety.

Instances too have been mentioned, in which some have risen _en masse_
in female convict ships, to commit personal violence on the surgeon
superintendent for the restraint which his sense of duty compelled him
to impose. In one of those it became necessary for the surgeon to carry
pistols for his defence, in consequence of an attack meditated against
him by the women, who had provided themselves with sharpened knives for
the purpose of performing a surgical operation of a very unpleasant
nature, which would have entailed upon the gentleman the most dangerous
and melancholy consequences. In other cases the conduct of the abandoned
women has been so unmanageable, that it was deemed necessary, as in the
instance of the ship _Janus_ at Cork in 1819, to require a military
guard to keep them in subordination and security. In fact, the
undertaking has been ever attended with circumstances which made the
duty at all times extremely repulsive, and rendered this branch of the
public service disagreeable and irksome.

Being fully aware of these circumstances, it became necessary for me to
act upon some method of treating the convicts committed to my charge, so
as to obviate as much as might be disorders generally prevailing during
the voyage; and, by establishing an undeviating order, if possible, in
their management, prepare their minds for that moral change which was
materially in view.

In the present state of their feelings, humbled in some degree by shame,
and the comparative misery brought upon them by their own folly and
unrestrained passions; when reflection on their degraded state bitterly
and poignantly occupied all their serious moments; there appeared then
the most favourable occasion to draw them back to a sense of virtue,
which, although it might have been long banished from the breasts of
some, the example of others more awake to its influence might assist in
reviving. To excite a feeling of repentance, was the first step: this
once gained would lead to a train of sober reflections; for no heart can
be so thoroughly corrupt as not to exhibit some pure spot for virtuous
reflection to take root, and produce its salutary blossoms.

It is not when the feverish glow of successful plunder excites the
bacchanalian roar around the fell-grouped table, that the wholesome
intrusion of the still small voice of conscience can reach the ear; when
the drunken participators of his crime inflame the vulgar vanity of the
intemperate wretch, and some vile _Thais_ intoxicates him with passion.
Vain would be the effort to reclaim the infuriated savage at such a time
as that. But when the dark cell of the prison has shut out his
associates, the mind may involuntarily turn back upon itself, and the
culprit, under the pressure of infamy, want, and punishment, may open
his heart to the language of religious admonition, inviting with its
peculiar consolations. No longer buoyed up with speculations, he is
naturally disposed to throw himself on the first humane help that
presents itself, and to seek in moral and religious truths a repose and
security to which he may have been heretofore a stranger.

Many such characters are every day passing before the watchful eye of
justice, and, without a single humane effort assisting in the way of
reformation, moving on almost imperceptibly to a disgraceful termination
of their career. To many so circumstanced, death is a relief from that
mental suffering which must attend their neglected and miserable lot;
whilst, if the unhappy being has unexpectedly received a capital
respite, and is allowed afterwards to have his sentence commuted for
transportation, he becomes even more than before a fit subject for
ascertaining whether amendment be then possible. The number of convicts
on board the Neptune presented abundant materials for such an
experiment; and, although the task appeared discouraging, I was
determined on the undertaking.

The first object worthy of attention was the establishment of a fixed
system of order and regularity in the prison. In this respect I have to
acknowledge the favour of some suggestions received from the Rev. Mr.
PRICE at Sheerness. I drew up, therefore, the following regulations for
their guidance; and on reading them over before the convicts, assembled
for that purpose, I had the satisfaction of finding none at least
expressed a dissentient voice; on the contrary, the most cordial
concurrence assented to their propriety.


                             _Regulations._

   I.— You are not to curse or swear,—use obscene or filthy
   conversation,—fight, quarrel, or steal from one another,—use
   provoking words,—or call any one but by his proper name.

  II.— You are to be respectful and obedient at all times to the officer
   and guards.

 III.— Cleanliness being essentially necessary to the health, comfort,
   and well being of every person on board, it is particularly desired
   that the strictest attention be paid to it on every occasion.

  IV.— Those to whom the management and care of the messes may be
   intrusted, are desired to be careful in attending to their duties, as
   they will be held responsible, and, in case of failure, punished
   severely.

   V.— Any one refusing to obey the directions of those who have the
   charge of messes, &c. will, on being detected, receive such
   punishment as the circumstance may deserve. A faithful report will be
   made of every man’s conduct; and those who behave well, though they
   may have come here with bad characters, will be favourably
   represented.

  VI.— The prisoner that shall dare to break through the above rules
   will be punished in proportion to his offence; and any one so
   offending must never expect to be recommended to the notice of the
   Governor of New South Wales.

  N.B. Any one found defacing or destroying these rules will be punished
   severely.

                  *       *       *       *       *

Copies of the above were placed in conspicuous parts of the prison, and
there they continued throughout the voyage without the least injury. The
convicts had been previously classed in messes, six persons in each, one
of whom was appointed to superintend the mess. This sub-division of duty
among themselves, was calculated to inspire confidence in the measures
to be adopted, and gave those temporary officers a considerable degree
of authority among their companions. The result was satisfactory. Each
monitor served as a check upon the others, whilst the reactive
watchfulness upon one another’s actions produced a kind of rivalry
amongst them in observing my injunctions most strictly.

It remained to commence some moral and religious system, on which could
be safely founded any expectation of ultimate success: first, if
possible, by conciliation and persuasion; or, that failing, by any such
coercive means as might be prudently adopted on such an occasion. The
native beauty of religion’s truths is best conveyed to such minds in
language of mild and temperate remonstrance: harsh censure, and severe
reproof, are of too repulsive a nature, and throw a gloom over the
irradiated prospects of repentance, reconciliation, and reward, held
forth in religious influence.

Accordingly, having received from Captain Young, of Deptford, a box
containing bibles, prayer books, and a few tracts, for the use of the
prisoners, I distributed them among the messes; and, at my request, the
Rev. Mr. Price came on board from the _Retribution_ Hulk at Sheerness,
and, after divine service, delivered an exhortation which very much
affected the minds of the prisoners. This was evident, from many of them
subsequently retiring apart from their companions, and reading with
serious and apparently devout attention the religious books given to
them.

The utmost care was taken at all times to preserve cleanliness as much
as possible in every part of the ship, and particularly in the prison;
for which purpose the decks were regularly scraped, scoured, and washed;
and the interior of the ship and prison ventilated or warmed by stoves
as occasion required. This latter proceeding tended greatly to the
preservation of the convicts’ health; although in spite of every
precaution, and the utmost vigilance, some dangerous complaints, such as
dysentery, appeared at intervals.

The conduct of the convicts continued to give much satisfaction, being
in general very orderly; yet the apprehension of some attempt at rising
was never lulled altogether. This circumstance is brought to my
recollection by the following memorandum which I find in my journal, and
transcribe it with all the _alarm_ it excited at the time.

“1818. _January_ 7th.—Was alarmed by a cry on deck, about 2 o’clock this
morning, that the prisoners were rising. The guards and sailors were
immediately called out, and the carpenter and myself went into the
prison to examine whether any attempt to cut, or get out, had been made;
but nothing of the kind appeared. Indeed, on the contrary, the prisoners
were all in bed, and every thing seemed quiet. After breakfast, a strict
search was made in the prison, which was conducted with the greatest
vigilance and minuteness; but nothing was discovered to excite the
slightest suspicion of any mischief having been meditated. At 4 P. M.
half a pint of wine was served to each convict, and in the evening I
read them one of _Blair’s_ sermons, at which the Master and some of the
officers attended, during which the utmost regularity and attention
prevailed.”

The prisoners expressed no sense of dissatisfaction at the above
scrutiny, but rather appeared more submissive in order to preclude all
possibility of suspicion; and in reference to the attention paid to
their health and comforts, they unanimously declared that their
treatment far exceeded their expectations. Having distributed a further
supply of testaments and religious tracts to all the messes, I soon
after had the gratifying pleasure of noticing that many of the convicts
perused them with earnestness and attention.

In conformity with my instructions, I transmitted to the Navy Office a
weekly return of the sick, and accompanied it with a statement of the
plan adopted for the management of the convicts, together with
observations on the good effects likely to result from _having the
duties of religion frequently and invariably performed_. It could not be
expected that the manners of confirmed reprobates, long established by
habit, could be suddenly reformed. Such an alteration could only be
expected from the combined effects of time and perseverance: of course,
many instances occurred of departure from strict discipline, which, in
some cases, were necessary to be restrained by putting on handcuffs, and
sometimes by inflicting slight corporal punishment upon the juvenile
offenders.

This occasional resorting to punishment was shown, chiefly with an
intent to let them understand, that it would certainly be inflicted if
any should be rash enough to provoke it. On one occasion a convict,
named Samuel Marriott, was detected fighting with one of his messmates;
which being contrary to the regulations, and his character being
quarrelsome and insolent, he was punished with twelve lashes.

In order to extend the benefits of the system, if possible, to the
guards and sailors, with a view to harmonize the minds of all on board,
I read occasionally upon deck a sermon of Dr. Blair’s to the seamen and
soldiers: encouraged by the attention they showed, I determined to
persevere, and frequently on the same day read to them some religious
discourse after having done so to the prisoners below. That these were
not without good effects, seemed obvious from the reading of religious
books on every occasion observable. In this manner the state of their
moral improvement was attempted; the demeanour of every one of the
convicts certainly became serious and thoughtful; and religious reading
became every day more desirable and in use generally amongst them.

On the 16th December 1817, final orders having been received, the
Neptune put to sea, and proceeded on her voyage. Some days afterwards I
was desirous of ascertaining the state of the convicts’ feelings on the
prospect of a long and lasting separation from home and kindred. Many of
them were fathers of families, upon whom a deep concern for the fate of
their offspring would naturally weigh heavily:—the younger delinquents,
whose attachments must have been warm and lively, would also suffer much
from the idea of their inevitable loss of many a tender tie; for even
the most depraved cannot be divested of those feelings, which, in
dispositions better regulated and guided by virtuous precept, constitute
the happiness of social life. Even the infidel, whom unhappy waywardness
has rendered unfit for Christian society, may have had some connexion to
sweeten his cup of misery, and enlighten the gloom that shrouds his
soul;—the dissipated felon, whose lightly-acquired wealth procured him
many an hour of delusive jollity, must, at such a prospect, sigh after
his idle and profligate companions:—all seemed to me likely to have
their particular grounds of sorrow, grief, regret, or lamentation. On
visiting them, with the intention of administering consolation to those
whom I presumed to find distressed, to my very great surprise, and
indeed pleasure, all seemed thoroughly reconciled to their situation,
and almost to a man signified the satisfaction, and even pleasure, they
felt at the idea of the voyage, removed from temptations and dangers of
the worst kind, surrounded as they were with every comfort, and every
want bountifully supplied.

I took this opportunity of reading to them an appropriate sermon, and
never have I witnessed more respectful attention, correctness and
regularity of conduct, than on that occasion. I remarked with much
satisfaction the daily visible improvement which every individual
appeared to make in morals and behaviour. Having adopted and put in
effect the only means of reformation, I left its perfection to time and
circumstances, watching their progress with the most anxious care. Of
one point, however, I was always very mindful, never to fatigue their
attention with tedious harangue, or sour their disposition by
unnecessarily finding fault, or seeking out trivial or unnecessary
causes for censure. I rather wished to encourage them always to have a
good opinion of themselves; which, if not strictly deserved, at least
urged them to attain it.

The next great object of my concern was to attend to the state of the
junior convicts, who amounted to twenty-three, most of whom were mere
boys, the whole of them being under twenty years of age, and some of
them so young as thirteen. Whilst the elder convicts, to whom
particularly the system applied, were receiving the benefit of religious
instruction, it would appear cruel and highly censurable to withhold
similar advantages from those unfortunate children. I therefore had them
all mustered, and examined them individually, to ascertain if any of
them could read: to my great surprise and disappointment, as has been
already mentioned, not more than five out of the entire number were
found possessed of that attainment, and but few of the others could
distinguish the letters of the alphabet. This discovery, however, did
not discourage my purpose; I immediately formed them into a school,
under the care of a convict whose remarkable regard of good order at the
time induced me to trust him, he accordingly superintended the school,
and taught the boys regularly every day. To give as much vigour as
possible to the work, I regularly attended, and taught lessons from 11
till 12 every day, encouraging them by all the means in my power to
exert themselves, and vie with each other in application.

The deplorable neglect shown to the early state of the minds of those
boys forcibly excited compassion. They never had had the slightest
attention paid to their education; if they had been instructed in aught,
it was in those infamous arts which brought them into their present
situation. The profligate wretches who were the means of giving
existence to those children, had their pursuits most likely directed to
gain possession of other persons’ property unjustly, and had neither
leisure nor inclination to attend to the cultivation of their youthful
minds; but rather shrunk from the contrast they must have observed, if
they were capable of so judging, between their children and themselves.
They must then be sensible of their own miserable degradation in
character, from their vicious mode of living, and would tremble with
horror at the superiority of their offspring above themselves, had they
been blessed with a virtuous education. To avoid even this tacit
condemnation of their conduct, their little ones are generally neglected
by their brutal father, or flung into the vortex of their unhappy
mother’s vices and gross indulgences. Little can the grief of those
unnatural parents avail, or excite sympathy, when their children, in
imitation, perhaps, of their parents’ pernicious example, or probably
instigated by their bidding, have committed those acts which bring them
rapidly into disgrace and punishment.

However rude and unpromising the state of these miserable young
creatures appeared, still a lingering hope was cherished of doing
something for their good, and the business of the school was carried on
without intermission. The result of the design far exceeded expectation.
From the assiduous attention of the person appointed as schoolmaster,
and my own constant attendance every day at noon, a strong emulation was
excited amongst them. Although a few copies of the Bible and Testament
formed the only medium of instruction I could command, yet, in a space
of time incredibly short, I succeeded in having all the members of this
little community not only able to read the Scriptures with tolerable
facility, but also enjoyed the greater gratification of believing that
their minds were impressed with the wholesome truths of the sacred
volumes.

This improvement continued progressively to the end of the voyage; and
at the time they were delivered over to the authority at Sydney, each of
these boys could read the Bible fluently, and many of them in a superior
manner, also evincing a familiar acquaintance with the principles of the
Christian gospel. By this measure I had the sincere hope of leading
these youthful votaries of vice into the paths of knowledge and
happiness, enabling them to become hereafter useful to the community, by
exhibiting in their conduct the good effects of religious education.

With regard to the progress of morality, meantime, among the senior
sinners, I find in my journal the following memorandum; and as the
record of those occurrences was written at the moment, under full and
active impression, it may be allowed perfect credit for accuracy.

“1818. _January_ 25th.—Mustered the convicts’ clothing, &c., and those
who were not dressed clean were not permitted to receive this day’s
allowance (half a pint) of wine, which was given to the others.
Mustered, also, the bibles, prayer books, &c. At noon, read a sermon in
the prison, during which the attention and feeling evinced by many of
the convicts gratified me exceedingly. On all occasions of this kind
their conduct has been marked by the utmost regularity; and I cannot
avoid expressing the heartfelt satisfaction it gives me to find my
efforts to lead many of these deluded victims of vice from misery, to
reflect seriously and with tranquillized minds regarding a future state,
and to administer the healing balm which revealed religion is capable of
imparting to the soul, have not been entirely unsuccessful.”

All my watchfulness, notwithstanding, could not prevent some portion of
the old leaven from bursting forth. Some would occasionally quarrel and
fight: one of these turbulent and troublesome characters being detected
in a flagrant instance of delinquency of this kind, twelve lashes were
inflicted on him with salutary effect.

Reconciled as the prisoners were to their immediate condition, still the
love of liberty naturally clung to them, imbittered recollection, and
made many anticipate that severer evils awaited them than any they had
been accustomed to endure. Although convinced of the justice of their
sentence, and the leniency of the laws, and that they really merited the
captivity to which they were consigned, yet an instance occurred which
showed that their doom was irksome to them, and that liberty was the
feeling most near to their heart under circumstances of any kind.

Private information had been conveyed to me that a sailor had been
tampering with one of the convicts. I had the convict brought
immediately into the cabin, and on being interrogated he acknowledged
that _Waterson_ (the seaman) had frequently sought for opportunities of
speaking to him when brought on deck for air and exercise; that a few
days previous he had said, that for twenty pounds he would procure his
escape from New South Wales, by concealing him in a secret part of the
ship, and giving him half of his own allowance of provisions and grog.

The sailor above mentioned had been confined for daring misconduct about
three weeks before, and had been released on his expressing contrition
for his fault and promising to amend in future. It is very probable that
he had a more dangerous object ulteriorly in view, if he could calculate
on finding successfully means of tampering in this way with the
prisoners. To all his plans Captain Carns thought it advisable to appear
blind, as the ruffian was both daring and dangerous: and as nothing
could be gained by driving him into open mutiny, we determined, to keep
a strict watch upon his future actions, and further agreed on the
propriety of giving him up to the Governor on our arrival at the Cape of
Good Hope.

The security of convicts going to New South Wales, or elsewhere on a
long voyage, has a much greater dependence on the regularity and
integrity of the seamen than may at first view be supposed, and even
more than upon the vigilance of the guards. The careless, easy, and
familiar manner of the seaman sooner enables him to form an intimacy
with the convicts, than the stiff, formal, and forbidding air the
soldier assumes, whose unbending attention to his duty forms his chief
characteristic. The mutinous disposition just noticed was not confined
to Waterson alone; for I had an opportunity of witnessing myself conduct
exceedingly reprehensible in another of the seamen, which I cannot
refrain from relating.

About noon on the 24th of February, I heard Serjeant _Bisset_ (one of
the troops) complaining to Captain Carns of some foul language which he
said one of the sailors (_Wraite_) had used to his wife. The Captain
ordered the sailor on deck to have the matter investigated; and when he
came, nothing could be more disrespectful or subversive of good order
than his behaviour was towards the Master. He blustered, and said there
was no living with these soldiering *—*, and used a great deal of other
infamous expressions to the same effect. He was joined by _Anderson_,
who was then at the helm, and used language if possible still more
abominable than the other had done; and although repeatedly desired by
Captain Carns to be silent, he paid no attention whatever. His conduct
became outrageous, and he offered to fight any of the soldiers, and
swore he would be revenged of them.

This Anderson had been for some time showing marks of discontent, and
seemed very desirous of making a quarrel. His manner on this occasion
was altogether violent, and, in my opinion, most decidedly mutinous. He
said all he could to excite a general misunderstanding and immediate
quarrel between the soldiers and sailors; but by the prompt and united
efforts of Captain Carns and Lieutenant _Bunney_, commanding the troops,
peace was at length restored, and all attempts at violence completely
suppressed.

The nature of a seaman’s engagement on board a merchant ship is a
certain source of mischief and insubordination; for, should the
situation not be agreeable to his mind, which it certainly will not if
he be of a depraved and vicious disposition, a wide door is open to
disorder, and no provision is made by law to curb his licentiousness,
and punish him for disobedience. It is true that the seaman enters into
a written engagement with the Master, before the voyage is begun, by
which he consents to a forfeiture of his wages in case of disobedience:
but as that regards the ship’s duty only, the sailor, if so inclined,
can be very troublesome to the Master personally, and by a due exercise
of cunning, for which many of that class are remarkable, may interrupt
the peace of the ship without subjecting himself to loss of wages.

The law is more severe if the seaman attempt to control the actions of
the Master, by laying violent hands on his person, or offering him any
opposition in his proper duties: such a case would amount to felony; but
to determine that offence, a regular trial before a competent authority,
is indispensable: until that can be had, the Captain has to endure the
refractory conduct of the sailor, without any means of repressing it,
unless he choose to hazard exposure to a prosecution, to which the
sailor may have recourse on shore, and to which many interested dabblers
in the law are ever ready to urge.

As this appears to me matter of much concern to the mercantile and
shipping interest, and as it involves much of the security and comfort
of the convict service, I would willingly pursue its further discussion
to an extent commensurate with its importance, but for the present must
defer that subject, and pass to others of more immediate consideration.
Another circumstance, however, regarding the behaviour of the military
placed over the convicts to maintain order, and prevent any attempt at
violence, is of such a nature that it cannot escape remark.

The relative situation of the guards and their prisoners, as to their
opportunities of conversation, being placed in immediate contact with
each other throughout the voyage, makes it extremely necessary to watch
the slightest communication that may take place between them, or in
which either of them may be concerned. The serious consequences, arising
at first probably from some insignificant affair, might have been easily
prevented, had a due discretion been employed in time; but from a
neglect undeserving of exculpation, or in a false security, the evil may
be allowed to proceed,—the mischief at length becomes very serious.

It has been customary, doubtless originating in mere indulgence, to give
an allowance of spirits, most commonly rum, to the soldiers on duty in
convict ships: by referring to the scheme given in a former chapter,
this quantity will be found half a pint _per diem_ to each man. In
merchant ships there is no stipulation, it seems, for seamen to receive
any such allowance: in this branch of service at least, although usually
given for particular services of hardship or hazard performed, it is
always in the Master’s power to withhold this favour at discretion, or,
in the sailor’s phrase, “to stop his grog,” in case of neglect or
disobedience.

Sobriety has at all times been strictly insisted on with soldiers; and
it seems somewhat problematical to understand how a quantity of spirits,
admitted only to be necessary under the severities of a campaign, can be
deemed equally so, allowing it so to be, to a soldier on board a ship,
surrounded with every accommodation, and furnished with a plentiful
supply of food. It cannot be even imagined, without violating
probability, that a man of previously sober habits can be as steady a
guardian of propriety of conduct with half a pint of maddening spirits
hurrying through his veins, and running away with his reason, as when
full of cool determination, and awake in his sobriety to the duties
assigned him. A sentinel is quite a different man when intoxicated or
sober: the one will break his duty, and his officer’s head; and
afterwards get sorry and repent of what he has done; but the other will
do nothing unbecoming the character of his proper duty.

Were the evil to be limited to the soldiers, even reflection, or some of
the repressing passions, might in some degree operate as an antidote
against the consequences of intoxication: an apprehension of incurring
the displeasure of their officer might also prevent an abuse of this
indulgence. It is not, however, considered enough that this ill-directed
allowance should be given to the soldiers on duty, in “the hour of
honour stirring watch;” the women, forsooth, must be taken _care_ of in
the same way, and the effects may be easily foreseen.

The married females permitted to accompany their husbands on board of
convict ships, and the women of choice, whom the laxity of public morals
permits to take the name of wives, are indulged with spirits in half the
proportion given to the men; and the children belonging to them are
besides allowed one half the quantity of the women: so that the latter,
who are careful to be store-keepers to their infants, (for the youngest
baby is allowed the same as those children grown strong in years,) can
easily appropriate to their individual use every day a quantity of
spirits only one fourth less than what is permitted to be consumed by
the men; and if she happen to have several children, the expenditure
will be enormous.

Imagination can scarcely form such a picture as one of these females
when indulged with this immoderate supply of spirits. In a word, one of
these women gets drunk, dead drunk, and is harmless only until the first
effects of the narcotic poison have subsided, and then—But in honour to
the sex, and out of respect to delicacy which virtue only knows, I shall
forbear a description. Scenes which I have been compelled to witness in
this way might lead to a minuteness of delineation, to do them justice
in all their exquisite loathsomeness, as neither the eye of the reader
could bear to scan, nor would recital produce aught but disgust and
distress.

Few mothers could avoid shuddering to see such a female lay her infant
baby across her lap, and pour the liquid poison, (rum) into the poor
thing’s vitals, continuing that diabolical nursing until the nerves of
the unconscious and miserable child are incapable of sensation, and it
drops senseless from the hands of its inhuman parent. The counterpart to
such a monstrous picture, which also is unfortunately, like that, too
often true, is that of the husband, who meantime mounts guard in his
turn, having very probably just partaken of the deleterious draught with
his spouse, with whom he has had, perhaps, quite sufficient bickering to
set his bad passions at work, and in a disposition to be quarrelsome.

There is little of cordiality generally between a soldier and a sailor.
The wife of the soldier under the stimulus of drink, is in the way of
the sailor’s ready joke; willing or unwilling to understand or seem to
hear it, the pride of this Lucretia takes fire, easily no doubt when in
that situation; she announces herself the wife of a soldier, and a
man—one who is able to take her part, and knows how to defend his
wife:—with such sentiments and expressions, the husband becomes
infuriated against the sailor, and quarrels are every now and then
produced.

I wish I could stop here to avoid exposing the shameless want of reserve
with these women towards the sailors. Those occurrences almost entirely
are to be attributed to that unwise use of spirits. From this erroneous
indulgence I am perfectly convinced that all the evils alluded to arise:
the consequences, if placed fully before the authority that permits the
custom, must excite those conclusions which will ensure its recall. I am
unwilling to acknowledge it, but must however declare, that on every
occasion wherein a misunderstanding has occurred on board the Neptune,
during this voyage, its origin could be instantly traced to the mischief
or jealous disposition of those troublesome, drunken frail ones.

A record or two from my journal will serve to elucidate this assertion
and maintain its accuracy, and exhibit the singular ingenuity with which
the principal movers of the scene generally contrived to keep themselves
screened from personal recognition.

“_February_ 4th.—At 8 P. M. the ship was disturbed by Serjeant Bisset
quarrelling with one of the soldiers (Taylor). On inquiry, it appeared
that Taylor had just come off deck and was quietly going to bed, when
Bisset struck him: I had occasion to be in the barrack-room on
professional duty about five minutes before the riot happened; Serjeant
Bisset was then talking in a very loud and angry tone, and certainly
appeared to me not sober. The commanding officer settled the matter as
he thought sufficiently, and Bisset went to his birth. At 9, cries and
screams issued from the soldiers’ sleeping-place, which were audible all
over the ship; this was occasioned by Bisset beating his wife. He swore
the most dreadful oaths that he would “massacre her.” So much noise and
disorderly conduct attracted many of the convicts to the after-hatchway
to witness the scene. The second and third mates went below to endeavour
to restore tranquillity, but the serjeant seized the third mate and
struck him several times. At this moment I went to the hatchway, and saw
one of the sailors lay hold of Bisset, saying he would not allow his
officer to be struck; upon which Corporal Kerr came to the assistance of
Bisset, and swore he would take his serjeant’s part. Fortunately, at
this moment the commanding officer interfered, and put an end to the
affray, which had like to be attended with more serious consequences. It
is to be observed, that the corporal who volunteered in the support of
Bisset used to have frequent quarrels with him.”

“_March_ 8th.—About 5 in the evening Lieutenant Bunney was engaged in
endeavouring to suppress riot and disorder amongst the soldiers, several
of whom were confined for drunkenness. Here was a proof of the bad
effects of allowing such a mischievous quantity of spirits to the men,
whose duty was comparatively light and easy,—full half a gill each day
beyond what is distributed to the guards on duty in a transport ship.
One of the above put himself in an attitude of offence, and showed all
the inclination in his power to strike me, in the presence of Captain
Carns, for having in the mildest manner remonstrated with him on the
impropriety of his conduct.”

“_March_ 25th.—At half past 5 this evening, on coming out of the prison,
I found the commanding officer and Captain Carns trying to suppress a
quarrel that had arisen among the soldiers’ wives, which was likely to
become serious from the husbands’ interfering. Serjeant Bisset seemed
transported with passion, and in my hearing talked something of a sword
to Captain Carns, and said he would be d—d if he would obey any of his
orders. Inquiring into the cause of this outrageous conduct, I was
informed that Captain Carns, who is remarkable for a humane and kind
disposition, in trying to pacify Bisset, took hold of his coat gently,
on which the intoxicated man with fury swore that if he had his sword he
would run him through. This part of Bisset’s behaviour I had not an
opportunity of witnessing; but I came sufficiently in time to see him
act in the most disrespectful and insolent manner towards Captain
Carns.”

These are a few of the mischievous effects arising from the unnecessary
allowance of liquor among men whose lives and habits may have been
previously sober and orderly. The evil was undoubtedly increased by the
women’s participating in the intoxication, as they were under no
restraint whatever, except the brutal correction inflicted by their
infuriated husbands. These women _having no employment_, and influenced
by drink, have too much leisure to indulge in licentiousness; disorderly
quarrels must be the constant and inevitable consequence.

Here it may be asked, Will convicts witnessing those excesses, remain
indifferent spectators of what is passing before them? Such is the
manner in which a convict ship is laid out, that every thing almost
occurring among the soldiers between deck, is within view of the
prisoners. Will any of them in whose bosom there still lurks the spirit
of licentiousness, fail to catch at the opportunity of again indulging
in his favourite propensity? One cannot help shuddering to contemplate
the horrible consequences which follow the footsteps of a female of
those abandoned habits in such a situation. If not at once successful in
his plans, either to secure a base gratification, or carry into effect a
conspiracy for escaping; still circumstances will grow out of this
guilty correspondence with the women, which will overturn all endeavours
to produce moral impressions, and the inveterate habits of crime will
again be cherished. The contagion did not remain among the soldiers and
sailors alone, as will appear from the following extract from my
journal, which more fully explains my meaning.

“_April_ 10th.—Numerous complaints were made this morning in the prison
against William Bamford, (bad character, convicted of forgery,
transported for life), for being drunk the previous night, and
conducting himself in a most riotous and disorderly manner, to the great
annoyance of every one near him. At half past 10 A. M. I had him and his
accusers brought upon deck, in order to give the matter an ample and
fair investigation. It was clearly proved, that Bamford was in the state
complained of, and had used expressions of the most shocking and
abominable nature; and had, in other respects, behaved most shamefully
and disgracefully. He was interrogated respecting the way he had
obtained the liquor; but on this head he would give no information
whatever. For this multiplied offence he was punished with three dozen
lashes.”

On this case of Bamford I have to remark, that I subsequently obtained
proof of his having received the spirits from the wife of one of the
soldiers; that between these two there existed a guilty understanding,
which was plainly evinced after the convicts had been landed in the
colony. This Bamford had been one of the persons engaged in the traffic
of forged notes; and, like all those who follow that iniquitous
occupation, was possessed of abundance of money. The soldier’s wife
above mentioned, on the arrival of the ship at Sydney, contrived to
conceal herself from her husband all the time the vessel remained at
that place, until it sailed with the detachment for India. This woman
was afterwards known to join Bamford and live with him in a domestic
way, thereby consummating her abandoned character with the additional
crime of adultery.

Little doubt remains on my mind, that all these unhappy results might
have been prevented by regulations regarding the allowance of rum,
better than those at present adopted. Were I permitted to offer a
suggestion on a subject connected with the military service,—and I would
obtrude an opinion only respecting this particular department,—I would
advise the quantity of spirits distributed to each soldier on duty in a
convict ship to be but one half of that now given; and that the women,
if any were suffered to embark, should not be allowed spirits on any
account, as they have not to undergo any fatigue or distressing labour;
above all, that no share whatever should be set apart for the children.

By this simple regulation the disorders complained of as now prevailing
would be prevented, and the health of the soldiers preserved; which was
not the case during the voyage in question, as scarcely a day passed
without the name of one or more soldiers appearing in the sick list.
This circumstance was the more remarkable, as the disposition to disease
continued as long as the rum lasted; but a visible improvement in their
general health became evident as soon as the spirits were expended,
which happily took place shortly after leaving the Cape of Good Hope.

One circumstance, which hitherto escaped my recollection, I shall here
introduce as being in some measure connected with the preceding facts.
The irregularities arising from a practice the soldiers had of conveying
below the spirits they received as their ration, and there bartering
them with one another, or with the women, became seriously great: many
of the soldiers were observed to be orderly and sober; but in proportion
as these were correct, the others and the women were the more drunken
and dissolute,—the poisonous beverage having been in the former case not
swallowed at all, and in the latter drunk beyond all moderation. An
expedient was of necessity adopted, which was found somewhat beneficial
in correction of the above improper behaviour. This was, that each
soldier was obliged to come to the tub for his allowance of grog, there
to remain until he drank it: by this means no unfair transfer of the
spirits could take place.

With regard to the women and children, I would recommend a moderate
supply of wine to be placed in charge with the Surgeon Superintendent,
to be distributed at his discretion, according to their necessities or
wants in sickness; this, I will venture to say, will in a great measure
put a stop to the evils which now so deplorably exist.

I now revert to the more cheerful task of recording the advancement of
the convicts in the paths of order, decency, and religious duty. No
occasion was let slip to seize upon every moment when any circumstance
presented itself conducive to the main object in view. I read to them
regularly every Sunday, and on other suitable days, a sermon selected
for the occasion, and adapted as much as possible to the state of
existing circumstances; and afterwards generally read the same discourse
to the guards and sailors upon deck, as I considered that the surest
means of preventing them from making an ill use of such opportunities as
they should chance to have of conversing with the prisoners, and
therefore maintaining any improper communication. I have much reason to
believe that the wholesome moral arguments of Dr. Blair, and other
divines whose writings I made use of, carried a degree of lasting
conviction to the minds of the prisoners, and that the good impressions
were afterwards improved during the moments of reflection.

The boys, too, continued to advance considerably in the reading of the
holy scriptures, and the happiest results might be presaged from their
assiduity, and their observance of the strict discipline instituted in
the school. I had also the heartfelt satisfaction to find that their
behaviour, at such hours as they were not engaged in the school, was
correct; that the persons whom I had appointed to watch over them
reported favourably of them; and, above all, that the unfortunate cause
which induced me to separate them from each other no longer existed,—in
fact, every trace of it had disappeared. There was a silent
submissiveness in their manner, which formed a pleasing contrast to that
forwardness and unblushing confidence for which they were before
remarkable; nor was an indecent expression, oath, or obscene song, ever
heard amongst them.

Many of the convicts continued sickly, and afflicted with chronic
diseases, which were often aggravated by the damp occasioned by the
heavy working of the ship through high seas and boisterous weather. The
greatest care was taken to stop the temporary leaks which thus appeared;
and the stoves were kept in daily and constant use, to prevent any bad
consequences arising from wet decks and damp bedding.

A certain number of the healthy prisoners were allowed to exercise a
sufficient time every day upon deck, for the benefit of the fresh air;
these were regularly succeeded by another division, usually one third of
the whole; these afterwards by another, so that all enjoyed air and
exercise a certain number of hours every day. This arrangement also
produced a good deal of bustle amongst them, by removing from the prison
to the deck, and relieving each other in a manner from the irksomeness
of confinement; and formed a sort of substitute for employment during
the day, by the temporary movements and changes it created among
themselves. The convalescents were not limited to any particular number
of hours upon deck, and whenever the weather would permit, they were
allowed to remain as long as they liked.

The conduct of the convicts generally was such in every respect as to
merit approbation. A muster of the different articles, books, &c.
belonging to each mess was regularly observed; and on such occasions
correctness and cleanliness were so observable as almost invariably to
preclude censure; rarely was there any necessity of now withholding
their allowance of wine, or inflicting any other punishment.

On approaching the Cape of Good Hope, I was agreeably surprised by a
request, very respectfully made by the convicts, to take charge of a
letter written by some of themselves, and signed by the entire number,
addressed to Lord Sidmouth, and to forward it as soon as might be
convenient. With this request I cheerfully complied; and as the letter
may afford the reader as much pleasure as it has done myself, it is
imparted freely, being copied from the original by one of the convicts,
and presented to me at the same time. Its contents are as follow.

                                         “On board the Neptune,
                                     Cape of Good Hope, March 3, 1818.

    “MY LORD,

    “Degraded as we are in our own estimation, it is with feelings of
    diffidence and respect that we presume to obtrude ourselves upon
    your Lordship’s notice. Trusting to that liberality of sentiment
    which has so long characterized your lordship’s conduct, both in
    public and private life, we hope your lordship will pardon this
    trespass on your valuable time. It is not our intention to try to
    extenuate those crimes for which we are justly driven from the
    society and endearments of our native country. Deeply feeling our
    situation as convicts, having violated laws both human and divine,
    it behoves us to reflect seriously on our past conduct, and
    endeavour to make such reparation as is still within our humble
    power. Animated with these sentiments, we consider it our first
    and paramount duty to pay that homage and adoration to the supreme
    Ruler of the universe, which the Creator expects from the
    creature. When all our visionary plans had terminated in
    disappointment, shame, and misery, the just sentence of exile made
    our wretched condition incapable of receiving any increase. In
    this situation many of us received consolations from religion
    which we had never before experienced. It is with joyful feelings
    we acquaint your Lordship of the encouragement we have received at
    all times from the officers of this ship to persevere in religious
    duties. The countenance and example of the Captain and Surgeon
    have preserved respect for those who were seriously disposed,
    drawn some from the paths of vice, and maintained order and
    regularity throughout. Since the time of our embarkation, divine
    service or a discourse from Dr. Blair’s Sermons has been read to
    us every Sunday by the Surgeon, the beneficial effects of which
    are most conspicuous; and we doubt not will continue to be felt by
    some of us for the remainder of our lives. There is nothing which
    tends to soften stubborn dispositions, and inspire the mind with
    such awe and reverence, as a constant attention to those duties
    which we owe to our Maker. It is he alone who can subdue and
    console the human heart; and most of us, my Lord, are now
    persuaded of this great truth, that if we are constantly and
    habitually in the practice of violating his commandments, we
    cannot reasonably expect prosperity in this world, or happiness in
    the next. It would be great presumption in us to point out to your
    Lordship the advantages and blessings of having the mind even a
    little enlightened by education; but we cannot suppress the
    pleasure it gives us to notice that a school has been established
    under the auspices of the Surgeon, who has appointed people
    properly qualified to instruct the boys, of whom there are upwards
    of twenty in the ship. What exertions and progress have been made
    in releasing these children of nature from the darkness of
    ignorance, we submit to the opinion of the Surgeon, who
    superintends them; and in his official report of us we are well
    convinced that impartial justice will be done to the conduct and
    character of every one; and we confidently hope and think, that
    that report will be as satisfactory to His Majesty’s Government,
    as creditable to those who are the objects of it. We further hope,
    that by the time we reach our ultimate destination there will be
    very few of us unacquainted with the consoling truths of revealed
    religion. The idea of being instrumental in effecting so happy a
    change will be a rich reward for any pains or assiduity it may
    cost. That it may be our lot, is the sincere and ardent prayer of
    our hearts; so that all of us may exclaim in the language of the
    publican, ‘Lord, be merciful to us sinners.’ We would here, my
    Lord, take the liberty of expressing our most sincere and grateful
    acknowledgements for those comforts that have been provided for
    us, which, with the unwearied attention and assiduity of the
    Surgeon and Captain, have proved so truly beneficial to our
    health. With great deference and respect we humbly subscribe
    ourselves

                             “Your Lordship’s
                   “Most obedient and truly devoted servants.”

                                (_Signed by one hundred and seventy._)

    “To the Right Hon. Lord Viscount Sidmouth,
                Secretary of State, &c.”

The above may afford a tolerably correct idea of the state of mind in
which these people were, even at that part of their voyage, and of the
benefits which they derived from the moral system instituted. It
certainly exhibits proof of considerable feeling, and no small share of
talent, existing among this degraded community. To the above document
were affixed one hundred and seventy signatures; and as the matter was
altogether of their spontaneous doing, I wished to encourage the spirit
in which it originated: to their wish, therefore, to have it forwarded
as they desired, as it became to me a pleasing duty to comply with it, I
acceded, the more willingly, from a feeling of humanity towards their
unfortunate situation.

The above letter was forwarded to the Secretary of State for the Home
Department by an early conveyance from the Cape of Good Hope, where the
Neptune stopped for some short time for the purpose of recruiting her
stock of water, and obtaining a supply of fresh provisions for the
convicts and guards. An application was made in person by Captain Carns
to the Governor at the Cape, to have the two mutinous seamen, Waterson
and Anderson, put on shore, as it was dangerous to take them any
further; but the Governor did not seem to think that the matter came
under his cognizance. However, some time after this, the business was so
arranged that those dangerous men were allowed to take their discharge,
and being paid their wages were set on shore at Cape Town, and finally
dismissed.

The great object I had in view, and the system adopted for the
management and well-being of the convicts on board, were seriously
affected, and in some degree materially embarrassed, by an occurrence
which took place whilst the Neptune was lying at the Cape. As this
matter appears to me to concern the situation of the prisoners, the
relation, taken from the journal in the precise manner in which the
transaction passed, is here introduced.

“_March_ 5th.—At 11 P. M. the master having signified that it was the
Governor’s wish to see us on shore, we waited on His Excellency. His
Lordship’s manner at this interview, for such it may be strictly called,
as conversation was out of the question, appeared so singular that it
seems well worthy of a place in this journal. On our being announced,
the doors were thrown open and we advanced, when we had the honour of
_seeing_ His Lordship, who on the instant waved his hand,—turned on his
heel,—muttered something about ‘Colonel Bird,’—and disappeared: such was
the substance of our interview with the Governor by his own
appointment.”——“It might be asked, Would His Excellency have treated his
_groom_ and his _jockey_ with that sort of politeness as on this
occasion he thought proper to show towards a respectable master of a
London merchant ship and a surgeon of His Majesty’s navy, engaged to
attend him, at his own desire, in an affair of public duty?”

On being thus referred to Colonel Bird, then deputy secretary to the
colony, that gentleman acquainted us of the Governor’s intention of
sending on board the Neptune _sixteen convicts_ who had escaped from New
South Wales, in the _Harriet_ just arrived from that country. We
represented the impossibility of accommodating so many. The agent for
transports was sent for to have his opinion on the case, and he
confirmed the report we had made. About an hour after this we again saw
Colonel Bird, who said the Governor had made up his mind to send us the
sixteen convicts. To this I replied, The instructions of the Navy Board
neither required nor authorized me to receive more prisoners than I
thought the ship could accommodate. The Colonel then observed that the
Governor would give a positive order for them to be received, and take
all the responsibility on himself. I lost no time in writing to the
colonial secretary, stating my decided opinion, that the ship had
neither room nor accommodation for so many, and requesting a survey to
be held on board of her before the additional number of convicts should
be sent.

“Of this letter no notice whatever was taken, as it appears, nor any
answer returned. Our application to the Government naval commissioner,
and fiscal, for the removal of the mutinous seamen had been equally
unsuccessful, every one in authority evading these necessary and
important requests by shifting the matter from one to another’s
hands,—every one saying that the affair did not come within his
department; so that, in fact, an applicant at any office of those
‘departments’ would find it necessary to make himself acquainted with
all their etiquette and routine, before he could understand how to
prefer a petition properly for the redress of any grievance or the
removal of any inconvenience how pressing soever, or the rectification
of any error however urgent its nature might be. Let this mode of
conducting public business be applied to the concerns of the port of
London, or any of the great commercial towns, and say what would be its
consequence.”

“_March_ 6th.—At half past six this morning the under sheriff brought
two colonial convicts on board, for whom accommodation had been
provided, though even that was effected with considerable inconvenience.
The above officer stated, that the Governor had altered his intention,
and had sent those two instead of the sixteen deserters who had come in
the Harriet. The master gave the usual receipt for them, and they were
victualled accordingly. About 3 P. M. the same person returned to the
ship, saying the fiscal had ordered him to take the two prisoners back;
but this was refused until an order was produced from some one legally
empowered by the Government to do so.

“_March_ 7th.—At half past 10 A. M. the agent for transports came on
board and informed me, that he was desired by the commissioner to get a
copy of the charter-party and my instructions, both of which and a copy
of Captain Carns’s I procured for him. He also brought with him a
carpenter from the shore to build an apartment in the prison, for the
sixteen convicts already mentioned. In the same boat with the agent came
a Captain Gill, who delivered to the master the order of the Governor to
receive those men. The colonial secretary left altogether unnoticed, my
letter to him requesting a survey of the ship to be made before any
order should be issued for sending so great an additional number of
convicts on board. In this manner was I reluctantly compelled to
acquiesce, against my judgement, in receiving more convicts than the
ship could accommodate; which involved the manifest risk of exposing the
whole to much inconvenience, if not serious danger, during the remainder
of the voyage.”

“_March_ 8th.—Several carpenters from the shore employed in building a
bulk-head in the prison. At 10 A. M. seven private invalid soldiers from
the shore belonging to the 83d regiment came on board, as an extra
guard. At 12 I read a sermon in the prison, at which Captain Carns and
the commanding officer attended; after which I expressed to the
prisoners my entire approbation of their conduct, and exhorted them to
persevere; at the same time stating it as our determination to give them
every indulgence in our power. They all expressed their thanks, and
seemed highly grateful.”

“_March_ 11th.—At half past 10 A. M., the weather having moderated a
little, a boat was manned and armed, in which I went to the Harriet to
arrange for the conveyance of the convicts to the Neptune. The master of
the Harriet either could not or would not afford a boat, consequently we
were obliged to make two trips between the ships before the transfer was
accomplished. When they were all on board, I had their hair cut off, and
ordered them each to be washed in the bathing tub. After this very
needful operation they all received, according to the Governor’s order,
two suits of slop clothing, and the rags in which they came were thrown
into the sea.”

Several reasons offer themselves to justify one in pronouncing this
proceeding at the Cape, on the part of the local authorities, respecting
the obtrusion of the sixteen additional prisoners, as being, at the very
least that may be said of it, _harsh_. This is stated not from any
personal inconvenience which could arise to myself from an increase of
professional duty; but the term is applied to that proceeding from
reference to the former number of convicts even more than the ship’s
proper number,—the Neptune in a subsequent voyage having carried out
only one hundred and fifty-six, that being, it appears, the complement
proper for her accommodation.

Lest my opinion of this transaction should seem in any respect unjust, I
am desirous of explaining why I consider the putting such an
extraordinary number into a vessel already overcrowded, as must appear
from her having one hundred and seventy prisoners on board, instead of
her proper complement of one hundred and fifty-six, highly injudicious
and dangerous. A convict ship laid out for a certain number of prisoners
cannot prudently be altered for the reception of more, without a
manifest risk of inconvenience and danger;—the former, on account of
confining their sleeping-places, seats, exercise, &c. and the latter,
from the foulness of the atmospheric medium, in which the crowd must
respire the doubtful or perhaps diseased exhalations from each other’s
lungs.

In the present case this was the more striking, as even with all the
care, regular exercise, and the most careful attention to the daily
state of the convicts; even with all my experience of their
constitutions and disorders, during the time the ship was proceeding
from the Thames to the Cape of Good Hope; still an extreme hazard was
incurred by the admission of a fresh number of men, besides including
the seven invalids, all of course strangers to the regimen previously
used; and perhaps, as might be suspected, tainted with infectious
diseases.

These sixteen men having escaped from New South Wales, must have endured
such hardships and privations as would be likely to superinduce
contagious disease, and the miserable state in which they were when
taken on board, excited strong apprehensions to that effect. Having made
minute inquiry from one of the number, I learned that these wretched men
had contrived to secrete themselves in the hold of the Harriet, where
they lay concealed for more than a month before they were discovered;
having subsisted that time on some miserable matters they had brought
away with them, and on a small store belonging to the owner, to which
they had penetrated privately. In this wretched state they continued in
a horrible and disgusting condition, so that they were of an appearance
extremely forbidding when brought on board.

But a circumstance more imperative on my attention was, how to dispose
of them in such a way as to guard against the principles they might
possess, and to prevent their commixture with such seeds of error and
vice as might be only suppressed in the original convicts. All these
unpleasant consequences grew out of the crude intimation of the
Governor’s,—for His Excellency does not seem to have thoroughly known
his own intentions, even after it was signified that he had “made up his
mind” to send the sixteen convicts on board the Neptune. How else can it
be comprehended, that the positive order of sending sixteen prisoners,
as was spoken of, had been altered for the shipment of the two colonial
convicts from the Cape district only? Can it be that the sheriff in
bringing those two on board acted under the single authority of the
fiscal?—or was that authority of such preponderating power, at the seat
of government, as to weigh down against every other?

This latter unaccountable experiment having been tried, another was
resorted to, to obtain from the ship’s charter-party whether any
objection lurked in that instrument, or in the copy of my instructions.
Special care was taken that the person sent for that purpose should be
allowed to copy those documents freely, as it was the desire of the
Naval Commissioner; and the spirit of accommodation went further, by
giving also a copy of the Master’s instructions: for all this, what
complaisance was shown in turn? My letter, requesting a survey of the
ship to be made before the Governor’s “_positive_” should be issued, was
not at all attended to, although it was exclusively on the public
service; nor was it treated with that common politeness which every
communication of the sort is generally entitled to.

His Excellency deigned to convey his intentions through the agency of a
third person, who was allowed to express them in his stead, although I
had the honour of waiting on him for that purpose, it is presumed, by
his own appointment. His pleasure, when made known, was issued in the
teeth of the report made by the agent for transports, “That the ship
could not accommodate the increased number which was intended to be
sent;” yet were sixteen, besides the additional guard of seven invalids,
thrust upon a crowded ship, without the least deference to the judgement
of those who were most competent to decide on an affair in which the
lives of one hundred and eighty-six prisoners were concerned.

I am at a loss to think whether it be proper or not to state the strange
yet bold declaration of His Excellency Lord Charles Somerset, the
governor at the Cape of Good Hope, when he understood that my objections
to the reception of the deserters were not to be removed unless by the
power of a “positive order,” that His Excellency was pleased to signify
his willingness to take upon himself the responsibility of the affair,
and “_were all the prisoners to die, he would be answerable for the
consequences_.” Thank Heaven! the men all came safe to their
destination, and I had the gratification to leave His Excellency to
enjoy in full security the pleasure of having so nobly enforced a
measure, which appears to have engaged much of his serious intentions as
to a determined exercise, at any risk, of his supreme authority.

Every precaution was now adopted to prevent communication with the
deserters. This was desirable for two motives: to prevent either moral
or physical contagion, and to preclude conversation altogether between
the old and new prisoners. The body of the prison was occupied by the
old prisoners, and the usual attention to bathing, exercise in the fresh
air, airing beds, &c. was observed; they were strictly enjoined to
abstain from all communication with the sixteen on any account, and this
I never knew one of them to violate. The deserters were kept confined in
a separate prison by themselves, and were totally and effectually
excluded from the society and conversation of the others. Books of a
religious kind were supplied to them, and they also had the benefit of
bathing and exercise in the open air, but always at times when the other
convicts were put out of the way. Indeed the prison door of the
deserters was never upon any occasion opened but when I was present. By
this arrangement the whole prisoners were kept firm in the moral
improvement they had made, and served as a pattern to the new ones,
whose conduct became so good as to exceed every hope I had formed
respecting them. The poor fellows had smarted sorely for their rash
imprudence in withdrawing from the colony, and now returned back
execrating the folly which had seduced them, declaring their determined
purpose to make every atonement for their offence, and to endeavour at a
thorough amendment in future.

The sixteen were not allowed any wine during their return to New South
Wales; I was therefore agreeably surprised one day when a paper was put
into my hand, in a very respectful manner, by one of the old prisoners,
as they were called, in which they unanimously and earnestly requested
permission to share their allowance of wine with the new prisoners.
Being much pleased with this generous and considerate offer, I indulged
them accordingly in their humane effort of contributing to the comfort
of their brethren in bondage.

By this strict management the conduct of the sixteen convicts became
correct and even exemplary. To them also I addressed some select moral
discourse regularly, and every individual among them seemed to vie with
his companions in avoiding every thing verging on impropriety; and the
language of passion, anger, or indecency, became quite strange among
them.

The boys had made a considerable advancement in their school business,
and it was pleasing and edifying to observe their demeanour, and the
correctness with which they read the holy Scriptures. Constant
application had made many of them familiar with the sacred pages; and it
was to be hoped that the divine truths contained in them had imparted
happy influence to their hearts, as not a word of a corrupt, obscene, or
improper nature was now heard uttered by any one of them.

The conduct of one young man was particularly praiseworthy; and although
it may be looked upon as rather trifling, I beg leave to say something
of it here. This youth, William Roberts, urged by an ardent desire to
make himself useful, wrote a letter marked by an uncommon neatness of
expression, in which he entreated to be allowed at some time out of the
school hours, to read to the younger boys who appeared least proficient,
and by his additional exertions enable them to get forward more rapidly
in the study of the Bible. This young man had also produced much good
effect by a remarkable willingness of manner, as the rest were in a
great measure led by his example.

The gratitude constantly expressed by these unfortunate youths fully
testified their sincerity, and proved their sense of the valuable
advantages derived from the kind treatment showed them, and the
instructions they had received. Nor was their example lost upon the men,
who were unanimous in declaring how much happier they felt themselves in
the circumstances of their exile, than they had ever known, even when
most successful in the career of crime. Their minds seemed now at
ease,—their wants were alleviated by a liberal provision,—while a sense
of their good behaviour encouraged them to hope for a favourable
reception from the Governor of New South Wales.

In this improved and comparatively happy state the Neptune proceeded
without any accident to her destination, and on the fifth of May we saw
Botany Bay. At half past 10 the same day we entered the Heads of Port
Jackson, and shortly after received a pilot on board. At noon we
anchored to wait for the tide, and in half an hour the Naval Officer
came on board. Captain Carns accompanied me to wait on the Governor with
the dispatches from England. Soon after I had the few remaining invalids
removed to the hospital on shore, and some days afterwards the principal
superintendent of convicts came on board, and received the sixteen whom
we had from the Harriet at the Cape of Good Hope.

The convicts whom I originally brought out from England, had among
themselves agreed to express their sentiments as to the voyage, in a
letter which was delivered to me by one of them. A copy of this document
is subjoined, not from any consideration of its value with regard to
myself, but merely to show the state of mind in which these people
arrived at their place of exile. This letter was communicated previously
to the landing of the sixteen deserters, who signed it in common with
their other fellow prisoners.

                                              “On board the Neptune,
                                          “Sydney Cove, 8th May, 1818.

    “SIR,

    “Being now safely arrived, through the merciful dispensation of an
    all-wise Providence, at the place of destination to which the laws
    of our country have consigned us; and being perfectly sensible of
    the great attention you have on every occasion paid us during this
    long and tedious passage, we cannot help availing ourselves of the
    present opportunity of presenting to you our unfeigned and
    grateful acknowledgements for the kind, condescending and
    benevolent disposition you have invariably manifested to supply
    our wants, redress our grievances, and render our situation as
    happy and comfortable as circumstances would admit of: that in the
    faithful discharge of your public duty as Surgeon and
    Superintendent of this ship, we must beg leave to bear ample
    testimony of your assiduous care, and unremitting attention, which
    has ever been guided by the dictates of humanity, and which we are
    well convinced must and does emanate from a noble mind, and
    generous heart. These, Sir, are not the ebullitions of flattery,
    but the genuine sentiments of our hearts, filled with admiration
    of your eminent virtues and transcendent abilities, which cannot
    be obliterated from our memory till time itself shall be no more.
    We take the liberty, Sir, of requesting you to accept our sincere
    wishes for your health, happiness, and prosperity, being the only
    tribute within our humble power. May the Almighty, in his infinite
    goodness and mercy, shower down his blessings upon you, is our
    sincere and ardent prayer. With every sentiment of deference and
    respect, we are, Sir,

                     “Your ever obliged and grateful servants.”

                             (_Signed by one hundred and eighty six._)

      “To Mr. Thomas Reid,
    “Surgeon and Superintendent.”

Shortly after the arrival of the ship, Mr. Secretary _Campbell_ came on
board and mustered the whole of the prisoners. He interrogated them
individually respecting their health and their usage on board, to which
their answers were most satisfactory and gratifying. The usual regular
exercises of religious reading, and occasional exhortation, were
continued as before without intermission until the convicts were finally
removed to the shore, and disposed of according to the Governor’s
commands. It was at their departure from the ship that they first seemed
to feel the distressing effects of banishment: they left it with tears
and sorrow, as if it had been their cherished home; and moved away in
silent grief like the members of a family which had been overwhelmed
with a sudden calamity.

His Excellency was pleased to express his opinion of this voyage in the
following terms, which he wrote himself in my journal.

    “I have perused with peculiar interest and satisfaction the
    foregoing journal of Thomas Reid, Esq., Surgeon and Superintendent
    of the Neptune male convict ship.”

                                              (Signed) “L. MACQUARIE.”

      “Government House, Sydney,
    “New South Wales, 6 June, 1818.”

Thus happily terminated a voyage of considerable length, the
circumstances of which were of deep interest, as involving the solution
of a problem, whether male convicts are susceptible of being reclaimed
from long established habits of idleness, immorality, and wickedness.
Here was obtained irrefragable proof that the human heart never can be
so thoroughly debased by vice, but still a portion remains
uncontaminated; and that there are still left the seeds of improvement
in the human breast, which require only a timely and careful cultivation
to bring again into the state of reproducing good and wholesome fruits.

During my stay in the colony, which was only for a few weeks, in order
to prosecute some inquiries on subjects of Natural History with which
that country is eminently abundant, many of my leisure hours were passed
in the society of men distinguished by their elevated situations, and
still more by their very engaging manners, fund of useful knowledge, and
that urbanity which bids the stranger feel himself at home.

I should deem myself to act most unworthily, did I not here declare my
obligations to Governor MACQUARIE for the truly polite and invariable
attention I received during my stay. Indeed I shall never forget the
acknowledgements I stand indebted for his kindness in affording to my
inquiries every desirable facility in the researches I had occasion to
make. For His Excellency’s hospitable reception, and the numerous
friends with whom I thus enjoyed the social converse, and the happy
absence of reserve, make me look upon and value that short period as
among the most pleasant days of my existence.

I made many excursions from Sydney into the interior of the country, and
found my researches well rewarded by valuable specimens in almost every
branch of Natural History, particularly Geology, to which my principal
attention was then directed. Of these specimens I made a very
considerable collection for the gratification of some esteemed friends
in London. The observations made on those occasions I had thrown into a
concise arrangement in the form of notes, suited to the collection of
each day’s excursion, intending to transcribe them at large in a
scientific form, during the voyage home. An awful occurrence, however,
defeated my intentions in that respect.

Having been intrusted with the dispatches of Governor Macquarie to the
Government at home, it was necessary to return to Europe with as little
delay as possible: accordingly, taking advantage of the opportunity
afforded by the Neptune, which was going to India, I went thither, and
there embarked in the first vessel which was about to sail for England.
Near the island of Mauritius a dreadful hurricane came on, which nearly
caused the destruction of the vessel, and reduced her to a wreck. Almost
every thing on board was destroyed, and with the greatest difficulty
were my exertions sufficient to preserve the Government dispatches at
the utmost risk of my life. My whole collection of specimens was
unfortunately lost; my clothes, books, and papers, except some private
memoranda, shared the same fate; and I found myself on the shore of Port
Louis destitute of every personal comfort, and deprived of many very
valuable matters independently of the losses above enumerated. Among
these I had to regret the loss of my remarks on the Natural History of
New South Wales, collected from my own observations during the time I
had remained in that country. A very valuable set of surgical
instruments also was unfortunately carried away during the awful
visitation of that storm.—The recollection of this misfortune always
brings distressing thoughts to my mind.

With respect to my losses on that occasion, I felt some consolation in
the hope that the Government would direct some indemnification for them,
as I might, perhaps, have saved some things of value belonging to myself
during the tempest, had not my endeavours been exclusively devoted to
the preservation of the dispatches. With the result of my expectations
of being thus indemnified I have no reason to congratulate myself; for,
although the claim was couched and urged in the most respectful
language, it did not appear to be considered a fit application, and I
was obliged to reconcile myself to the loss and disappointment[4].

Previously to that unfortunate occurrence, I had made notes of some
observations regarding the treatment of the convicts during the voyage,
and the effects of the system which I found it proper to employ. Those
papers being of considerable extent occupied much of my time and
attention on the passage from New South Wales; but they too became
involved in the above disaster off the Mauritius. I had the greater
reason to regret this latter circumstance, as my intention was thereby
defeated of laying before the Commissioners of the Navy a full and
detailed account of the voyage, for the “information of His Majesty’s
Secretary of State.”

I considered it, however, an indispensable duty to draw up a statement
from such materials as memory could furnish, agreeably to the
instructions received from the Navy Board; and in compliance,
immediately on my return to London, I made a hasty sketch of my remarks
in the form of a letter addressed to that Board; but as I have not since
been favoured with any intimation of its ever having been received, I am
compelled to think that it never came to hand. As this document may be
interesting to those who bestow consideration on the subject of these
remarks, I beg leave to subjoin a copy of it from the rough draught
which happened to remain with me.

    “GENTLEMEN,

                                         “London, 3rd September, 1819.

    “I have the honour to acquaint you of my return from New South
    Wales, whither you were pleased to send me as Surgeon and
    Superintendent of the late convict ship Neptune. In obedience to
    your instructions, I took occasion to give a sketch or outline of
    the measures I employed for the management of the convicts, in a
    letter I had the honour to address you from the Cape of Good Hope,
    dated 8th March 1818. On this head I have only to add, that we
    received sixteen more convicts at that colony, and seven soldiers
    additional guard, which crowded us considerably; but I am happy to
    say we performed the voyage without losing a man.

    “In the letter above alluded to, I mentioned having formed
    twenty-three of our juvenile depredators into a school, of whom
    only three knew the alphabet. I found it an agreeable relaxation
    from other duties, to instruct, and to the best of my power
    reclaim, these children of error; and I am glad to say my
    endeavours were not unavailing; for, before we arrived at Sydney,
    they could all read the Scriptures gracefully, some indeed
    elegantly.

    “In forming a few regulations for the guidance of the convicts
    while on board, I was desirous of trying the influence of
    religious exhortation; and I thought the dejected state of mind
    into which vice and folly had plunged them, a favourable
    opportunity for evincing its powers. I did not aim at too much at
    first; but by endeavouring to recall known truths to their minds,
    and impress a firm belief that the exercise of those virtues which
    still remained within their power, would contribute to meliorate
    their condition in a future state, I proceeded with facility and
    success far beyond the most earnest hope I had ever entertained.
    Indeed, so much did this plan improve their conduct and morals,
    that during the last two months they were on board, I am confident
    half a dozen oaths or obscene expressions were not uttered in the
    prison.

    “It may not be irrelevant to mention, that such exemplary
    behaviour enabled us with safety to increase their comforts.
    Accordingly we had their irons struck off, and allowed the prison
    doors to be left open during the day, as marks of confidence which
    it was their interest to merit, and which they never abused. I do
    not mean to say that this plan might always be followed with
    impunity, or that the same means would always produce the same
    effects; but certain I am, that even convicts are susceptible of
    gratitude, which, when sincere, is not less binding than chains;
    and I think the subject thus attached is more likely at some
    future period to be useful to society, than he whose mind, unused
    to the language of consolation, sinks into pitiable imbecility, or
    too often is driven by despair to horrible deeds. I shall urge
    this subject no further than simply to state, that if your Board
    wish for a more detailed account of my system, it will give me
    great pleasure to particularize every circumstance that occurred
    during the voyage, that may appear worthy of its notice.

    “I owe it to justice here to state, that during the voyage I
    received every possible assistance from Mr. Robert Carns, Master
    of the Neptune. On every occasion, his humanity and readiness to
    promote the comforts of the prisoners were most eminently
    conspicuous; and I am glad to have an opportunity of
    acknowledging, that, without his willing co-operation and
    excellent discipline, my endeavours could not have been so
    successful:—indeed, no man could have discharged a public duty
    with more zeal and fidelity.

    “In obedience to the sixteenth article of Instructions furnished
    by your Honourable Board, I beg permission humbly and earnestly to
    solicit your attention to a few observations which, I think, would
    in some measure tend to reduce the mass of wretchedness that
    generally exists in a convict-ship. What I have to propose has
    this recommendation, That, while it contributes to suppress vice
    and immorality, it will also be some little diminution of the
    public expenses. I therefore trust that the following remarks will
    not be deemed entirely destitute of interest, how trifling soever
    they may appear.

    “_First_:—I think the allowance of spirits to the soldiers
    composing the guard in a convict-ship is too much by half. I am
    confident there was not a night, while they had full allowance in
    the Neptune, but some were intoxicated; and on some occasions more
    than half of them were found quite unfit for duty, notwithstanding
    their commanding officer did all he could to keep them in good
    order. This scene of debauchery was heightened by the very
    abandoned conduct of their wives, who, in fits of intoxication,
    would offer themselves indiscriminately for prostitution; which
    kept up constant jealousy, and excited quarrels between the
    soldiers and sailors that often assumed a very serious aspect. The
    commanding officer of the guard at length found it necessary to
    order the spirits to be drunk on deck at the tub, and none to be
    carried from thence; which certainly had a good effect; though I
    have seen the mothers urge their children to drink till they fell
    down totally insensible. These disgraceful excesses, which
    undermine and corrode every noble faculty of the soul, would be
    most effectually prevented by lessening the quantity of spirits to
    the soldiers, and allowing their wives and children none at all. I
    am sure it never improves their health; and it undoubtedly
    corrupts their morals. It is difficult to conceive what necessity
    a young child can have for spirits; and yet, in this service, it
    is allowed a certain quantity from the hour of its birth[5]. The
    fact is, the child’s allowance helps to make the mother drunk, in
    which state the dearest ties of nature are forgotten, and too
    often the wretched offspring falls a victim to the worse than
    brutal intemperance, and consequent neglect, of its unnatural
    parent. I shudder to say that two infants in the Neptune were
    sacrificed in this manner.

    “I must beg leave to relate one fact, which I hope will be
    considered a satisfactory proof that this evil might be avoided. A
    few days after the Neptune sailed from the Cape of Good Hope, it
    was discovered that the quantity of spirits put on board for the
    guard was nearly expended, and it was then impossible to procure
    more: the consequence was, that for the last five weeks of the
    voyage they had none at all; and it was really surprising how much
    better they behaved during this period than they had done before.
    I took occasion to mention these facts to Governor Macquarie, who
    requested me to lay a statement of them before your Board. I had
    the honour of bearing his dispatches to Earl Bathurst, in which I
    am willing to hope he has enforced something on this subject.

    “_Secondly_:—The next thing on which I would beg permission to
    remark, is the quantity of water allowed to a convict, viz. two
    quarts per day, which in warm latitudes is by no means sufficient;
    and, agreeably to the scheme for victualling, the Surgeon cannot
    direct any more to be given, let the necessity be ever so great.
    That a number of men crowded together in a prison, and panting
    under a vertical sun, will suffer more inconvenience from thirst
    than others differently circumstanced, is a truth too obvious to
    need any illustration; and its force may be increased by stating,
    that the mercury of a thermometer in the prison uniformly ranged
    nine degrees higher than in any other part of the ship, though
    ventilation and every other cooling means were attended to very
    carefully, and upwards of fifty prisoners were always on deck
    twelve hours in the day. As every ship is required to have eight
    months’ water on board before she sails from England, this
    inconvenience might easily be obviated.

    “While on this subject, it may not be improper to say a word or
    two on the quality of the water, to which sufficient attention is
    seldom or never paid. The filling of it in the river is always
    intrusted to the mate of the ship, who generally consults his own
    convenience, without much regarding the state of the tide, or
    whether it is salt or muddy; and in very many cases before the
    ship has been three weeks at sea it becomes both putrid and
    offensive. I would therefore humbly recommend, that not a cask be
    suffered to be filled without being carefully inspected by the
    Surgeon Superintendent. I have seen so much mischief result from
    inattention to this simple precaution, that humanity obliges me to
    represent it as an indispensable duty. I am persuaded no medical
    man who is anxious for the welfare of his charge, and values his
    own reputation, will think this remark unimportant or
    superfluous:—a strict observance of it would in the end spare him
    a great deal of trouble, and save many lives.

    “_Thirdly_:—Two pudding-bags ought to be allowed to each mess. At
    present there is only one, which is always worn out before the
    voyage is half over,—sometimes before it is commenced; and the
    poor creatures are exposed to much inconvenience. As prisoners,
    they are secluded from all the little resources of which a sailor
    can avail himself; and often their allowance of flour is rendered
    useless for want of something to boil it in.

    “_Fourthly_;—I am of opinion that in every ship there ought to be
    separate cooking places for the guards and convicts. To save a
    little expense, the owners generally provide but one boiler with a
    partition in it, one end of which is intended for the guards, the
    other for the convicts; but this very ill answers the purpose.
    Both dinners cannot be cooked at the same time, and in bad weather
    it is difficult to cook one; consequently some party must wait
    till an uncomfortably late hour every day, and sometimes go
    without entirely; which is sure to produce discontent.

    “_Fifthly_:—Were hammocks used in the hospital in lieu of the
    cradles, which hitherto have been fitted up, they would be found
    very convenient. The cradles are unwieldy things, and so
    completely fill the sick apartment, that room is not left for a
    patient to move a step from his bed, and cleanliness is thereby
    prevented. On the other hand, hammocks could be sent on deck in
    the morning, which would enable the Surgeon to employ ventilation,
    and ensure cleanliness whenever he pleased, on the efficacy of
    which I need not expatiate. Certain it is, that no sick person can
    ever be considered a fit subject for proving the powers of
    medicine, if the strictest attention be not given to air, diet,
    and cleanliness.

    “It is with much diffidence that I have ventured to submit the
    foregoing remarks, which are deduced from faithful and accurate
    observation. I sincerely hope it will not be thought that I have
    offered my opinion with unbecoming confidence, or represented my
    own humble endeavours too presumptuously. My most ambitious wish
    is to contribute my mite to promote the cause of morality and
    Christian virtue; and should any thing I have here proposed be
    fortunate enough to meet with public approbation, and be carried
    into effect, I shall consider it a reward far beyond any other
    gratification I can derive from the service.

    “I am sorry for having trespassed so long on your time; and it is
    with deep regret that I feel it necessary to solicit your further
    indulgence, to state the cause of my very tedious voyage from
    Sydney hither. When I received Governor Macquarie’s dispatches, he
    left it to my own judgement to proceed to Europe by the shortest
    route. I left Sydney the 9th June 1818 in the Neptune, and arrived
    at Madras in the middle of September, where, in consequence of the
    Canadian war, ships were wanted to carry troops to Ceylon, and she
    was chartered for that purpose. This would necessarily detain her
    in India two or three months; and as there was no ship about to
    sail for England, I proceeded to Calcutta, where I found one
    nearly ready to sail for Liverpool, in which I engaged a passage;
    but off the island of Mauritius she was overtaken by a violent
    hurricane, totally dismasted, and reduced to a complete wreck.
    With extreme difficulty I preserved Governor Macquarie’s
    dispatches, and a few private papers; but every other article in
    my possession perished. The ship was got into Port Louis a few
    days after, and I reported myself to the commanding naval officer;
    but no opportunity offered to enable me to proceed for nine weeks,
    when another hurricane came on that drove on shore or sunk every
    vessel in the harbour, which increased my detention sixteen days
    longer. Since that time a series of calms and contrary winds
    retarded my progress much beyond the time in which the voyage is
    generally performed.

    “I take the liberty to inclose two certificates, that I hope will
    show the anxious desire I had to avoid delay, which, however, has
    unfortunately been too great; but, so far from serving any private
    end, has been attended with expense, inconvenience and distress,
    that I feel I shall long have occasion to deplore.

                              “I have the honour to be, &c.
                                       (Signed)       “THOMAS REID,
                                         “Surgeon and Superintendent.”

The article alluded to in the above letter forms a part of the
Instructions given from the Navy Board to every Surgeon in the convict
service, and is as follows:

“In case any remark should occur to you respecting the general
management of convicts on their passage, with a view still better to
preserve their health, you are to communicate them to this Board for the
information of the Secretary of State.”

-----

Footnote 4:

  Since my late return from New South Wales, I laid a statement of my
  losses before the Commissioners for victualling His Majesty’s Navy;
  and I am truly grateful for the kindness and attention with which they
  were pleased to treat me. The only remuneration _they_ could grant
  was, to order the value of my surgical instruments to be paid; which
  they did most readily.

Footnote 5:

  Since my last return to England, I have heard with sincere pleasure
  that this subject has engaged the attention of the Navy Board; who,
  with great propriety, have directed tea and sugar to be issued to the
  women and children in lieu of spirits.




                              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:

  Chapter v. 39th verse.

Footnote 21:

  1 Corinth, chap. ii. verse 9.

Footnote 22:

  Psalm iv. 4th verse.

Footnote 23:

  Proverbs.

Footnote 24:

  Daniel, chap. v. verse 5.

Footnote 25:

  Isaiah, chap. lvii. verses 20, 21.

Footnote 26:

  Galat. chap. vi. verse. 9.

Footnote 27:

  2 Thess. chap. iii. verse 10.

Footnote 28:

  Proverbs, chap. xiv. verse 23; ch. xiii. verse 4.

Footnote 29:

  Matthew, chap. v. 34th verse, &c.




                              CHAPTER IV.

                    MANNER OF DISPOSING OF CONVICTS.


The preceding pages exhibit a faithful account of the progress towards
reformation made by the convicts under the system observed in their
management during removal to New South Wales. The moment they were
disembarked, my public functions regarding them terminated of course;
yet the interest excited in my mind by the dawning of renovated moral
feeling, which appeared general, made me still anxious to cultivate and
keep alive amongst them, as much as possible, the influence of those
salutary impressions which they appeared to have received during the
voyage; and for this purpose I visited them frequently during their stay
in the prison at Sydney.

According to the regulation at that place, convicts, on being
disembarked, are placed immediately under the superintendence of a
person appointed to keep them in charge until such time as they can be
placed in situations. This person is always present at the mustering of
the prisoners after their arrival; and keeps a book, in which are
entered the name and age, and also the character, of the convicts, such
as they may have merited while under the management of the Surgeon
Superintendent, and also a description of the employment for which each
prisoner is qualified.

The Superintendent of convicts is thus perfectly apprized of every thing
requisite for directing a just and satisfactory assignment of the
prisoners; and as, when once they are placed in his hands, no other
authority interposes, much good or evil is to be expected from his
management. Mr. Hutchinson, the person now exercising that office at
Sydney, was himself formerly a convict; and from his various means of
obtaining intelligence, well may he be supposed,—so far as the ample
jurisdiction he exercises can extend,—to possess information universally
correct regarding the circumstances of every family: he is therefore
fully competent to determine what description of convict is best suited
for any particular service: too often, however, does caprice, if not
motives more unworthy, appear to influence him in the performance of
this important duty.

It might be expected that the passions of prisoners, whether male or
female, sentenced to transportation, having been long kept under by
discipline, a sense of guilt, and repentant reflection during the
voyage, would not easily be roused again into mischievous action; but a
momentary consideration even of what is human nature, and how prone it
is to evil, as also the former state of these persons, will forbid a too
confident expectation that the mind long accustomed to habitudes of
vice, and subdued only by a powerful sense of shame, or religious
feeling, can be at once thoroughly reformed, and secure from relapse. It
was doubtless with a view to prevent any thing of that unhappy tendency,
that the local Government instituted the confinement of the prisoners,
as already mentioned. The following circumstance will show how careful
the Superintendent is to maintain this humane intention.

There were two of the females under my care, whose behaviour during the
voyage was so profligate, that, besides the character with which they
were handed over at the muster, I was induced to point them out to the
notice of the Governor, with a request that they might be separated from
the others: to this His Excellency paid immediate attention, and gave
orders to that effect. I mentioned the same matter, moreover, to the
Superintendent of convicts, who made a note of it in his book, in my
presence; yet on that very same evening these wretched creatures were
permitted to go at large in the streets of Sydney, where necessity, or
their own abandoned propensities, must have driven them to infamous
practices.

About one-half of the female prisoners were disposed of in Sydney and
its neighbourhood, and the remainder were kept in a separate place in
the gaol, until an opportunity should offer for removing them to
Parramatta, whither the Governor had directed they should be sent by
water, to prevent improper conversation with straggling prisoners of the
other sex, who are continually infesting the roads. It is to be
remarked, however, that those whose behaviour or disposition had most
frequently incurred censure on the voyage, and consequently least
merited favourable report, were singled out as the fittest objects for
assignment, while many of those whose conduct had been uniformly
deserving of approbation, whose names also were conspicuous for
excellent character, were left to be transmitted to the Factory!

Another circumstance, though of itself unimportant, may be deemed worthy
of notice, as throwing some further light on those proceedings. A
settler, named _Cooper_, made application to have an elderly woman,
whose relatives he knew formerly in England, assigned him as a servant,
but was refused. He repeated the request, and was again refused on the
plea that her character was very infamous. Mr. Cooper not believing this
dogmatical assertion, and being unable to investigate the
Superintendent’s real grounds for objection, applied to me for an
account of the woman’s conduct, which during the voyage had indeed been
exemplary. The poor woman herself appealed to me, and begged that I
would do her justice. I assured her that her character should be fully
vindicated before the Governor; but the Superintendent, not wishing the
matter to be investigated, or his motives explained, before that
tribunal, assigned the woman without further delay as desired.

Connexions too spring up unexpectedly between the female convicts and
pretended relatives by whom they are recognised, as it were, on their
landing. This practice had grown to such mischievous extent in former
years, that it was found necessary to order that no person from the
shore should be allowed to visit the ship, or hold communication with
the prisoners, without permission signified in writing: and now a guard
boat is commonly stationed in the Cove, to prevent any unauthorized
persons from approaching a convict ship after her arrival, until the
prisoners are disembarked. Previously to this order, it was usual for
persons from the shore to go alongside those ships, and even on board,
and choose from among the female prisoners, wives, sisters, or other
relatives, as circumstances would suit, for themselves and others; and
these claims they used afterwards to substantiate _on oath_; on which
the prisoners were accordingly assigned them.

In most of these cases, it is well known, no relationship whatever
exists, the parties having never before, perhaps, known or heard of each
other. It must of necessity follow, that connexions thus formed cannot
be in unison with truth or justice, and that the obligations of marriage
can hardly escape violation. In fact, the language which female convicts
on landing in the colony are accustomed to hear from every tongue, must
have a predisposing effect upon minds ordinarily weak as theirs must be,
anxious for protection in a strange country. It is usual to tell them,
that they must now consider themselves in a new world,—that whatever may
have been their offences, their former conduct would not now be
considered for a moment;—that they should look upon every thing past as
quite forgotten;—that they should begin life anew;—that if they behaved
themselves prudently _they should soon get husbands_, and no doubt do
well.

From representations such as these, it is not surprising that they
should feel themselves encouraged to indulge in notions of fresh
happiness: new hopes are kindled, and associations easily entered into
without much regard to the propriety of the action. The Superintendent
of convicts, and the fellows to whom he confides the secondary concerns
of his office, are never at a loss to cultivate the opportunities to
which such lessons tend; and as they all are or have been convicts, they
dexterously keep up an intercourse ramifying through all that vast
fraternity; and a _marriage_ is contracted without difficulty or delay,
doubtlessly very much to the happiness of the female, as well as the
edification of the community!

One of the greatest evils, in my opinion, attending imprisonment, is
when the character of the turnkeys and the other persons in authority
about a gaol is corrupt or villainous. In the best constituted prisons
in England, this is a subject of painful note, which even the utmost
vigilance of the most upright and excellent Governor cannot always
rectify. Persons formerly of infamous character are often selected for
that situation, from a mistaken notion of prudential policy,—“Set a
thief to watch a thief;” for, while their official care is directed to
secure the person of the prisoner, his mind too often is sunk more
deeply, and confirmed in depravity by their wicked agency or connivance.
This is best illustrated by fact.

On visiting the gaol in Sydney, the morning after the prisoners had been
landed, I found that many of them spent the night in noise and indecent
revelry, occasioned by beer and spirits which had been introduced, and
that could not have been done without the knowledge of the keepers. Here
then is a lamentable source of mischief to the convict on the very
threshold of her exile. In the population of such a town as Sydney, the
mass of which is formed of persons transported for their crimes, much
moral turpitude may be supposed to prevail, which not all the existing
regulations, however excellent they be, even were they maintained with
exactness, are sufficient to repress. The number of houses licensed for
the sale of beer and spirits, besides those where the like are vended
clandestinely, by feeding the bad passions with dangerous incentive
retard the growth of moral reserve, and that rectitude of principle
necessary to the existence of a well-ordered community.

Hence, therefore, derives a constant flow of licentiousness; and the
consequences will, it is feared, long continue to characterize the
infant colony. Females banished to a place of this description must be
formed of materials exceedingly pure, to withstand temptations such as
are every moment spread before them. Can it be reasonably hoped, that
one the whole tenour of whose life has been corrupt, debased, and almost
remorseless, will be influenced by the salutary care of transient
benevolence, and the precepts of religious instruction recently imbibed,
to shut her eyes and ears against what is still grateful to slumbering
passion, and as yet pleasurably tingles on every sense? How odious,
then, and afflictive must be corrupt example and temptation at such a
time, which in the absence of discipline proceed a step further than
inclination, warping the firmest purpose, and fomenting every bad
propensity! Wretched indeed, and greatly to be pitied, is the female in
such a situation, whose heart still cherishes a spark of virtue which
reflection and pious resolution were again fanning into life, but
through a direful necessity, from which there is no escaping, is dragged
down again into the turpid mire, and smoulders in pollution!

Four days elapsed before the wind became favourable for conveying the
remaining women to Parramatta, a water passage of about twenty miles,
where I took occasion to visit them at the Factory on the morning after
their arrival. It would indeed be a difficult task to give an adequate
notion of the miserable state in which I found them. They all collected
around me, and for several minutes not one of them could utter a word;
but their streaming eyes and deep sobs sufficiently expressed the state
of their feelings. Some of them gave a shocking account of the manner in
which the last night had been spent. On their arrival the preceding
evening, they had not got within the Factory before they were surrounded
by hordes of idle fellows, convicts, who came provided with bottles of
spirits some, and others with provisions, for the purpose of forming a
banquet according to custom, which they assured themselves of enjoying
without interruption, as a prelude to excesses which decency forbids to
mention. They calculated, it seems, on this security, in consequence of
a guilty understanding between themselves and the constables, whom they
found little difficulty of reconciling to remissness on such an
occasion.

Those guardians of public morals are selected from the convict ranks,
and, as in this instance, rarely possess qualities superior to those
over whom they are placed in authority. The best institutions must fail
in their design when supported by materials of this description; and
although it is probable that a better system could not be devised than
that adopted by the present Governor, yet, for want of men of probity
and firmness to carry his views into effect, the worst abuses, it is
apprehended, must ensue. This is indeed so manifest, that the Sydney
Gazette frequently announces the dismissal of those officers for
misconduct.

At first I was unwilling to credit the account which these women gave of
this strange and disorderly visit of the convicts; but they soon
convinced me by pointing out several of these half-naked, half-starved,
miserable-looking wretches, who were still lurking around this
receptible of misery,—the well-known theatre of infamous excesses.
Several of the women, whose dispositions had been particularly improved
on the voyage, and who still retained a strong sense of propriety,
exclaimed with tears of anguish, “O God! Sir, we are all sent here to be
destroyed.” They declared it to be quite impossible to remain virtuous
amidst the concentrated immorality, and the various forms in which
temptation was presented to them. I endeavoured to support their
resolution with every argument against despair, which was evidently
seizing on their minds, and tried to recall to their recollection the
lessons they had heard so often during the voyage; but they again burst
into tears, and with one voice declared, “Were angels from heaven placed
here as we are, they would in three nights be corrupted.”

The _Factory_ is a square stone building of inconsiderable dimension,
having an upper story: here are crowded all the workshops for converting
the wool of the colony into cloth; one side being appropriated to
picking, carding, and spinning; the other to weaving;—the males employed
in this service mixing, in the hours of work, indiscriminately with the
females. It is locked at night, and the key intrusted to a porter, who
has a lodging-place at the entrance. In this building the female
convicts, whose behaviour after coming into the colony may have brought
them under the notice of the police, and is deemed deserving of
particular punishment, are _ordered_ to be confined and kept to hard
labour: they are to sleep within it at night, and are _supposed_ to have
no communication with any one outside the walls. How well these orders
and expectations are fulfilled, may be seen hereafter.

Detached from the Factory is a wooden building, in a state of decay,
open almost at every point; “all the elements of nature may enter in:”
unfortunately, too, it is permeable to the unhallowed step of drunken
licentiousness in its vilest garb. In this crazy mansion the women from
the Morley were placed on their arrival; and during the day-time were
not allowed to stray far from it, at least not before they had done a
certain quantity of work; but this being performed, they were at liberty
to go whither they pleased, do what they pleased, and entertain whom
they pleased. This information does not rest on hearsay, or on authority
which could excite my distrust: I visited the place at all hours, to
ascertain the fact, and have the evidence of my own senses in proof of
the assertion, that the women had free egress and ingress at all times.

It has just been stated, that females confined in the inclosed Factory,
by way of punishment, are not permitted to pass the gate without the
knowledge of the Superintendent. Whether this permission be easily
obtained, or otherwise, I pretend not to know; but that women so
confined are frequently seen outside the walls,—as it is expressed,
“beating the rounds,”—is undeniably certain. This I have myself had the
mortification to witness in the case of one of the women who had been
under my care, but whose bad conduct subsequently had subjected her to
“confinement in the Factory.”

Undoubtedly, where the disposition of the individual placed under
punishment of that kind is very dissolute, restraint must have a
salutary tendency. It may then be supposed, of course, that some means,
besides that of confinement and the labours of the place, would be
employed to repress their licentiousness, and recall their minds to
serious reflection: moreover, the present Superintendent, Mr. Oakes, did
formerly belong to the Missionary Society, who have pushed their zealous
labours among the unenlightened savages of the southern hemisphere. Upon
most strict inquiry, however, regarding this point, I have not been able
to ascertain that any extraordinary or efficacious means had been used,
or in fact any care whatever taken, to recover these daughters of vice
and error from their depraved condition, and give them back in an
amended state to the situations they had recently forfeited by their
misconduct; or render them profitable examples for the others.

That this observation is lamentably true, may be proved by reference to
a recent instance, wherein two women, both then free, who had become so
infamously wicked, and outrageously reprobate, as to be thought
irreclaimable, and utterly unfit for the colony, or rather subjects too
hard for the superintendency, were actually re-shipped, and sent home to
England for reformation, on board the ship Shipley, in 1818. One of
these incorrigibles is wife to Mr. Hutchinson, the principal
Superintendent of convicts.

A visitor on entering this penitentiary, this prison house, let his
familiarity with gaol scenes be what it may, would be shocked at the
noise, depravity of speech, disgusting freedoms, obsceneness, filthiness
of person, and general degradation of character, which in every
direction strike upon his senses. Indeed, so clamorous and importunate
are they in their rude requests to strangers, for “something to drink,”
that the benevolent few who would give salutary instruction are deterred
from going among them. A friend whom I asked to accompany me to the
place, refused on that very account, stating, that he had visited them
some time before, and could not get away without extreme difficulty,
although he had distributed twenty shillings to rid himself of the
annoyance.

It was to this worse than London Newgate, even in all its former
wickedness, the penitent exiles from the Morley were transmitted! It is
true, the detached building mentioned was assigned them as a
sleeping-place; but here they were surrounded by ruffians more
destructive to females in their circumstances, than a pack of wolves
would have been. Spirits obtained by iniquitous means, brought as an
incentive to the worst purposes, enabled those ragged wretches to drag
down into the same level of licentiousness and vice as themselves, poor,
unprotected, weak, defenceless women, whose minds were just recovering
from the worst effects of sin, and had but just tasted of the sweets of
virtue. Driven again into a state of ungovernable passion, maddened by
intoxication, it is easy to perceive,—although the thought is painful in
extreme,—that a dereliction of duty must have been the certain
consequence, and that even if any had firmness to resist such
temptation, their preservation must be attributed to some cause more
powerful than the protection afforded them in such an asylum.

The sleeping-place assigned in this detached building was not, for very
obvious reasons, much liked, it appears, by many of them; and they
sought to procure lodgings in the neighbouring cottages with such means
as they had still preserved in their misfortunes. Those confined and
humble habitations are generally constructed of wood, not having more
than two rooms, one of which, as on occasions such as the present, is
reserved as a kitchen, and usually contains a bed, the other serves as
bed-chamber and store-room: such is the common abode of the convict
during the time of sojourning in a state of banishment!

Rations, as usual, were delivered to them from the stores; and if they
were destitute of money wherewith to pay for the comfort of lodging,
either this supply of food must be curtailed, or infamous means resorted
to in order to make up the deficiency. In this situation, surrounded by
men of the most profligate and hardened habits, what woman can be
supposed capable of resisting vice, when impelled to that horrible
extremity by a necessity absolute beyond the possibility of controul? Is
it to be expected that minds like theirs, which had in many instances
formerly been accustomed to wickedness, will now be able to guard
against those seductive arts, that first launched them into crime, and
of which, it is feared, some of them still cherish a familiar
remembrance?

Many and praiseworthy were the contrivances by which some of those women
strove to disentangle themselves from this odious spot, replete with
mischief, subversive of those principles of virtue and propriety which
they yet felt an inclination to cultivate. To these, marriage held out
the best and surest hope. Accordingly, several were on the eve of being
married at the time I last visited Parramatta. On the propriety of this
step I was consulted by not less than eleven of those who had been under
my care, who evinced their grateful feeling towards me by soliciting a
continuance of that cautionary counsel, which they had so often heard
during the voyage. The particulars of one of these, having produced at
the time emotions too strong to be easily forgotten, render the case
peculiarly affecting, and are given here simply as they occurred.

A woman about thirty years of age, whose repentant manner and excellent
conduct during the voyage had merited particular notice, and being
accompanied by four young children, excited more than a common degree of
interest: she was married, and left her husband living in England at the
time she was sent away. At the Factory she had not sufficient means of
supporting her children, the ration for them being only one third in
proportion to those of adults. Having disposed of several articles of
wearing apparel to supply their cravings, she formed the desperate
resolution of uniting herself to one of those fellows who had offered to
maintain them on that condition.

This wretched woman described the painful embarrassments in which she
was involved; but the state of her mind, and the genuine features of her
case, will best appear from her own words. “I know,” she said, “that to
embrace the mode of life to which I am now driven, is a great crime in
the eyes of my Maker: but to see my children starving”—at this moment
two of them were crying bitterly for something to eat—“is more than I
can bear. I know that _I_ have done wrong, but they, poor unhappy
things, are innocent.” Here a gush of tears deprived her of utterance:
when she regained composure, she continued: “I have no means of
providing for them, and to keep them alive I must either steal, or do
what my soul abhors.” This heart-rending narrative was again broken by a
flood of tears. I was about to go away; but she implored me for God’s
sake not to depart without giving her some advice, by which she declared
her conduct should be governed, let her fate be what it might.

It can scarcely be imagined that there is a being in human form, how
hardened soever his heart may be, that could contemplate a scene like
this, and be unmoved. It was well observed by an ancient writer, “that a
virtuous man struggling against adversity was an object worthy of the
admiration of the Gods”; what then shall we think of a woman, a frail
woman, driven from the society of every friend, and the endearments of
her native land, in whom the principles of virtue are as it were
resuscitated, making a noble stand against the most powerful inducements
that can influence the mind, but at last forced to yield to a necessity
that would have relaxed the most rigid nerve, that would have subdued
the most vigorous resolution?

Is it fair to thrust weak women into such a state, and afterwards expect
their lives to be pure? Who would rationally look for uncontaminated
minds among females who were driven, in some measure, to an
indiscriminate association with thieves of the worst description, men
whose unlawful gains enable many of them to live in a manner as
dissolute and far more luxurious than they had ever done at home?

It may at first view appear strange, but the fact is indisputable, that
the public-houses in Sydney, although fortunately reduced recently from
sixty-seven to twenty-five, still evidently too numerous in proportion
to the population, are as much frequented as almost any of those in the
British metropolis. A notion of the customary run of those houses may be
formed from the gains of the persons who keep them being sometimes so
enormous as to enable them to accumulate in about three years’ time what
they consider a fortune. How the persons frequenting those houses obtain
money to purchase beer and spirits, both of the worst kind, at a price
vastly beyond the London rates, is matter of astonishment; yet so
constant among the convicts is the habit of drinking, that one can
scarcely pass through the streets of Sydney without meeting some of them
in a state of intoxication. They are, it is true, under the watchfulness
of a police said to be extremely active,—and in many respects this
representation is correct; but the fact is as above stated; I have seen
women in a state of inebriety too shocking to describe, and this
occurring at almost every hour of the day.

This account has reference to the respectable parts of the town of
Sydney; but there are other divisions of that place which would be
difficult of description. In those portions designated the _Rocks_,
scenes of drunkenness, shameless debauchery, and open profligacy are so
frequent and disgusting, that they cannot be seen without abhorrence;
and such is the absolute want of common decency, that even in the day
time a person of respectable appearance is there liable to be abused and
maltreated; but at night it would be extremely imprudent to attempt
passing through even the extreme parts of this fortress of iniquity, as
there is a hazard, or rather a certainty, of being stripped and
plundered. The ruffians treat one another in the same manner; hence
broils and boxing-matches are perpetually occurring in that quarter. The
low public-houses, many of which are permitted in those purlieus,
present a ready way of converting the plunder into means of intemperate
jollity; whilst the occasion is commonly heightened by the presence of
one or more of those degraded females, who minister to the mischief of
the moment, and are thereabouts constantly resident in great numbers.

The condition and conduct of those last-mentioned graceless wretches are
a constant theme of animadversion to those inclined to draw comparisons
unfavourable to female convicts generally, an inclination which
unfortunately prevails very much at Sydney, even among persons who
should at least have learned charity from a sense of misfortune. Is it
then matter of surprise, that the unhappy women transported to the
colony under those disadvantages of comparison, should continue so
depreciated and despised as they are at present? A recollection of
similar circumstances such as must ever have attended the same state of
degradation, though still fresh in the memory even of many of
themselves, produces hardness of heart towards these children of
affliction; and, strange to say, some even of their own sex who have
become wives out of the same situation, and now are further advanced in
life, and live in circumstances of comfort and opulence, are among the
first to vilify and asperse their convict servants for the slightest
deviation from rectitude, exacting from them more than would be expected
from female circumstances in more respectable stations, whose characters
had never been tainted by judicial sentence.

When, therefore, a woman of this miserable class, torn from former
connexions by the severity of her lot, yet cherishing a hope that
amendment of life may obtain for her friends and protectors in her new
country, arrives in the colony, she finds a disheartening reverse:
thrown into a common estimation with such abandoned wretches. The
settlers have to supply themselves with servants from the convict ships
arriving every year; but if circumstances, such as those mentioned,
intervene before they make a choice, it is not very consistent with
probability that they will find their morals improved after arrival.

Whatever religious or honest principles they may have recovered or
imbibed, either under a humane and reforming system in the prisons at
home, or in the course of the voyage outwards, all are likely to be
obliterated, leaving a dismal blank to be filled with repetition of
crime, a certain consequence of the discredit in which they are held,
even before they can have been known, and the vile contamination into
which they are turned as they arrive. No matter how repentant soever
they may have become, nor how sincere soever may be their resolutions of
amendment, they are nevertheless looked on with contempt; and being
received into families with this feeling, the slightest deviation from
the severe rules of rectitude is scrutinized, and seized upon with an
avidity implying studied intention. Rarely is allowance made for the
infirmity of human nature; the good resolves of the convict are shaken
for want of confidence; despair of doing good so as to be approved, and
disregard of well doing from want of due encouragement, fasten too
frequently on the mind, and criminality again brings punishment,
disgrace, and inevitable ruin of character.

It is not too much to say, that the immorality or dishonesty which
appear among convicts, especially females, subsequently to their arrival
in the colony, may often be traced, among the many other causes, to this
harshness and want of confidence in the situations to which they are at
first assigned. There will, however, be a great number of those annually
transported, who will retain traces of their old habits in defiance of
all the influence of moral instruction,—who are, it may be said,
incapable of reformation; but it is impossible that individuals of such
a disposition can pass unnoticed through all the stages of ordeal, from
their first apprehension to trial and final judgement, and be unknown as
to genuine character. They must of course be marked and recorded in
their progress, and, if found incorrigible, can very easily be
distinguished from the penitent and well conducted, and a separation be
effected accordingly. Some badge of distinction should in all fairness
be set upon them; and it would be highly honourable to the wisdom of
that authority whose will is to be their guide, to hold out this
segregation of the penitent from the profligate, were it only as a
reward for good conduct, and an encouragement to the deserving.

The foregoing statements have reference more particularly to the manner
in which female convicts are treated in the colony: the condition of
males is less severe. The mode of disposing of them in the first
instance, does not differ in any considerable degree from that of the
females. Like those, the men are marched into the prison yard for the
Governor’s inspection, when His Excellency inquires minutely how they
have been treated on the voyage, and whether they have any complaints
against the Surgeon Superintendent, or the Captain and his officers, and
had their full rations of provisions. Should any one fancy himself
aggrieved in those points, or in any other respect, he is desired to
come forward, and prefer his charge; to which the Governor gives a
patient hearing, and decides as he thinks proper.

If it appear that the Surgeon and the Commander have been careful, and
have humanely discharged their respective duties, His Excellency fails
not to pay a compliment to their assiduity: but should any neglect or
harshness appear justly alleged, they are publicly reprimanded at the
instant; and if further inquiry be deemed necessary, a bench of
magistrates is ordered to investigate the case, and report their
proceedings in writing to His Excellency, who sometimes transmits it to
England for the consideration of the Government, the parties being sent
home under arrest, should he think the affair deserving of such serious
notice, to answer for their conduct.

Having inspected the condition of the prisoners, and redressed their
complaints, if any, His Excellency gives them all a salutary and solemn
admonition. He assures them, that no application in their favour from
home or elsewhere will be attended to, unless their own behaviour in the
colony be correct; that they must now consider themselves in a new
world, where their lives are, as it were, beginning; and that their
future prosperity, or misery, will depend upon themselves.

It occasionally happens that ill-fated individuals arrive in the colony,
as convicts, who have been brought up as gentlemen, and in whose cases
there may appear, perhaps, more of misfortune than moral delinquency:
such persons are generally indulged by His Excellency with tickets of
leave, and opportunities allowed them to do well. The number of persons,
however, to whom tickets of leave are granted on their arrival, is by no
means so great as has been represented.

The convicts are now transferred to the care of the principal
Superintendent, to whom all persons who want servants must apply. Some
demur regarding the assignment of the individual for whom the
application is made, not unfrequently occurs in this quarter. Persons of
the first respectability, well informed regarding matters of this kind,
have assured me, that the settlers have frequently complained of the
difficulty they experienced in obtaining the acquiescence of the
Superintendent of convicts to allow them servants of their own
particular choice, and that there was, under such circumstances, only
one way of procuring what they desired. Having no personal knowledge of
the manner in which this extraordinary agency is effected, I do not
pledge myself for the correctness of the statement; but I am well aware
that the difficulty complained of does exist. Every settler to whom a
convict servant is assigned, is required, by authority of the local
Government, to pay as wages ten pounds sterling per annum to a male, and
seven pounds to a female, besides board and lodging.

The male convicts not disposed of as servants, or by tickets of leave,
are formed into gangs, which are stationed in different parts of the
country in Government employ, such as making and repairing roads, and
various other public works, and are maintained from the stores. Those
employed at Sydney and its vicinity are lodged in a barrack, which has
lately been erected, and is fitted for the accommodation of about eight
hundred persons. There is another building of the same kind, at Emu
Plains, but on a smaller scale, which want of time prevented me from
visiting. The barrack at Sydney is spacious and lofty, erected in a
healthy and appropriate situation; it is thoroughly ventilated, is kept
exceedingly clean, and has many other advantages.

I visited this building several times, and could not avoid remarking the
cleanliness of the different wards, and the respectful attention of the
persons who showed me over them: the great objection I observed in the
management was the entire want of classification, an obvious evil in
every such establishment, and that nothing appeared of the nature of an
organized system of morality. It was truly shocking and disgusting to
hear the oaths, execrations, and language the most indecent, which
issued from every side; nor did any of them appear to be intimidated by
the presence of those in authority over them: indeed quite the contrary
was observable; they seemed to me rather to be encouraged by those
persons in practices so utterly repugnant to order and decency. Mr.
Hutchinson, principal Superintendent of convicts, was with me on one of
those occasions; but so far was he from checking with rebuke what, to
say the least of it, was want of respect to one in his situation, that
his own expressions outstripped and completely eclipsed theirs in
wickedness and revolting filthiness.

Endless would be the task of commenting on the deterioration, if not
total ruin, of moral principle, that must result from this want of
classification and religious care among a community so constituted as
this just noticed. How futile then must be every undertaking to reclaim
men of this description under circumstances so inauspicious! I fear the
hope of their reformation, therefore, is extremely distant, unless some
means of an efficient nature like that alluded to be soon adopted.
Sanguine indeed must be the mind that can expect improvement in a mass
so heterogeneous, composed of delinquents of every age; a commixture of
guiltiness of every shade and degree,—without any controlling influence
over depravity however extravagant,—without any humane friend to warn
against error, or direct to the paths which alone lead to peace and
happiness.

Until the erection of this barrack, the convicts had to provide their
own lodging, for which purpose they were allowed half of each day to
work for themselves, or employ that time otherwise as they thought fit;
but this was attended with manifest inconvenience both to themselves and
their neighbours. The advantages of having them locked up at night,
which is done regularly at eight o’clock, are incalculable, and it is as
highly applauded by the sober part of the community as regretted by
themselves, the public-house keepers, thieves, and receivers of stolen
goods. Their labour must now be much more productive to Government than
formerly, as they are obliged to work from six in the morning till six
in the evening, Saturday excepted, when they are allowed half a day to
receive their weekly rations of provisions.

Regarding the issues from the stores a salutary ordinance exists, making
it criminal to purchase any part of a convict’s rations; which is a
means of preventing many bad consequences: it cannot be denied, however,
that circumstances often occur which render a breach of this order
unavoidable. When fresh meat, for instance, is served out in hot
weather, which embraces two thirds of the year, it will become putrid in
a time inconceivably short: consequently the convict would want or
starve during the greater part of the week, were he not to make some
such arrangement privately, as must by its abuse have occasioned the
present regulation. In general the male prisoners live well, if they
conduct themselves properly, and observe sobriety; the regulations
adopted for the maintenance of good order among them being efficient in
a remarkable degree, when their great numbers, and also their former and
present modes of life, are considered.

The convict Superintendents, and their numerous followers, as well as
most of the constables, and many of the settlers of the inferior class,
have adopted a practice of compounding with convicts assigned them as
servants, by which they derive a certain income from those convicts for
allowing them respectively the free disposal of their own time. This
compromise is usually productive of a revenue amounting weekly to a sum
varying from five to twenty shillings per head, or even more, as the
circumstances may allow; as, for instance, when the convict is a
mechanic, who, by being apparently on his own hands, can easily earn
more than double the sum he pays in consideration to his master, who,
from a necessary connexion with the Superintendent, generally knows the
surest way to have those of any trade he chooses assigned him.

In such cases, it is always understood that the person to whom the
convict is assigned, is responsible for the conduct of his servant; but,
generally speaking, this responsibility is worse than nominal. Hence
great inconvenience to society is the almost certain result; for many of
those so assigned are known to levy contributions on the industrious
inhabitants; and in this respect some of them exercise their wonted arts
with surprising and successful dexterity. There can be little doubt that
many support themselves wholly in this manner, as idle fellows are to be
met with constantly prowling about, under various pretences, but
notoriously intent on plunder, or mischief of some kind, which is still
dear to their hearts. Of this description chiefly were the wretches whom
I noticed skulking around the Factory at Parramatta, corrupting some of
the women there, and persecuting others.

Various means have been adopted to restrain the irregularities of
convicts thus at large, and punishments of a summary kind are frequently
inflicted. Of these, the most severe next to that of death is
_transportation to the Coal River_, which is ordered usually by His
Honour the Judge Advocate, or a Bench of Magistrates, for a term of
years, or for life, as the enormity of the offence may require. Convicts
dread this mode of punishment very much, because they are there
compelled to work in chains from sun-rise till sun-set, and are subject
also to other restrictions of a highly penal description. The rigour of
this sentence is, however, frequently relaxed in degree, as the criminal
shows signs of amendment; and in very few cases is it found necessary to
subject any of the convicts to a repetition of that sentence. Punishment
by _flogging_ is sometimes resorted to, and the infliction, which may be
ordered by any Magistrate on conviction, seldom exceeds twenty-five
lashes.

For females, it is considered sufficiently severe to confine them for a
limited time to constant labour in the _Factory_ at Parramatta; but
enough has been said on that subject to satisfy that they can benefit
but very little from such a discipline. The restraint produced by those
punishments generally has some effect in preventing crime; but that of
sending offenders to the _Coal River_, to which punishment females as
well as males are liable, appears the most dreaded, and crimes are
evidently less frequent than might be expected in a population composed
of such mischievous materials.




                               CHAPTER V.

          SITUATION AND DUTIES OF THE SURGEON SUPERINTENDENT.


As the welfare of the convicts, and their advancement or retrocession in
moral reformation, depend materially upon the exertion, apathy, or
capability of the Surgeon Superintendent, it may not be out of place, or
destitute of interest, to say something regarding the duties attached to
that appointment.

The transportation of convicts to the colony seems entirely a mercantile
concern, in which the Government contracts, as a private individual
would, with the ship-owner for the conveyance of a certain number of
tons, at a fixed rate, and the tonnage is estimated according to the
ship’s register. In this case, Government supplies provisions for the
prisoners, besides other necessary stores, which are placed under the
charge of the Master, to be afterwards issued on proper occasions.

A premium of fifty pounds is held out to the Master for a faithful
discharge of his duty; and satisfactory vouchers for the correctness of
his conduct, and humane treatment of the prisoners while on board,
signed by the Governor of the colony, and the Surgeon Superintendent of
the ship, must be produced for that purpose. This part of his duty is
independent of his concerns as Commander, and the proper treatment of
his sailors, with which the Government have no right to interfere, save
as far as it relates to the state of discipline maintained on board, to
prevent mutiny, or improper conduct of the sailors, by which the
security and management of the prisoners may be endangered or
interrupted.

The following extract from the printed Instructions furnished by the
Navy Board to the Master, may serve to show the exactness required of
him in this respect. “For your guidance in the particular line of duty
allotted to the Surgeon of the Morley, we inclose a copy of our
Instructions to him, in order that you may regulate yourself
accordingly; and we refer you to the 24th article of those Instructions
against the prostitution of the female convicts in the vessel under your
command, which you are to consider as equally applying to yourself, and
of which we enjoin your strictest observance, both in your own conduct,
and in the exercise of your authority over all the persons under your
controul; and the like certificate from the Governor of New South Wales,
of your adherence to these directions, will be required before the
gratuity allowed on your return will be taken into consideration.”

The article in the Surgeon’s Instructions, to which the above has
reference, runs as follows: “In consequence of a communication from the
Secretary of State, relative to the state of prostitution in which it is
represented the female convicts, during the passage to New South Wales,
have been permitted to live with the officers and seamen of the ships in
which they were embarked, we desire that you will take the most
particular care to _prevent_ the prostitution of the female convicts who
may be embarked, as far as possible, and, independently of showing a
good example in this respect, that you will _not_, under any pretence
whatever, _suffer_ any officer or seaman to live with a woman on the
passage; and we inform you that instructions have been given by the
Secretary of State to the Governor of New South Wales, to examine
whether these directions have been fully complied with; and that to
enable you to receive your gratuity, it is necessary that you should
procure a certificate from His Excellency, as to the measures taken by
you to _enforce_ these regulations through the ship; when it will be
considered how far your conduct entitles you to such gratuity.”

In former times the owners of ships chartered for the conveyance of
convicts to the colonies, and used also to contract for victualling them
during the voyage, and were even at liberty to provide persons of their
own choice to act as surgeons. With what qualifications, intellectual or
moral, those _medical gentlemen_ entered on the duties of this most
important branch of the service, it is not my purpose here to inquire.
But the ship-owner in those days contracted for a certain number to be
embarked, without any stipulation being entered into for landing them
safely at the place of destination;—a material distinction, as is
evident when it is considered, that it was by no means uncommon for a
ship of this description to have from forty to seventy deaths, and
upwards, in the course of a voyage. The following statement, extracted
from Collins’s History of New South Wales, is illustrative of this
assertion.

“A contract,”—he says, page 102, “had been entered into by Government,
with Messrs. Calvert, Cambden, and King, merchants of London, for the
transporting of one thousand convicts; and Government engaged to pay
17_l._ 7_s._ 6_d._ per head, for every convict they embarked. This sum
being as well for their provisions as for their transportation, no
interest for their preservation was created in the owners, and the dead
were more profitable (if profit alone was consulted by them, and the
credit of their house was not at stake,) than the living. The following
accounts of the numbers who died on board each ship were given in by the
Masters:

                                      Men. Women. Children.
            On board the Lady Juliana    0      5         2
            On board the Surprise       42      0         0
            On board the Scarborough    68      0         0
            On board the Neptune       151     11         2

All possible expedition was used to get the sick on shore; for even
while they remained on board many died.” Again, at page 436, the same
author, speaking of the Hillsborough, which arrived the 26th July, 1799,
says, “Ninety-five died during the voyage, and six more were added to
the number in a few days after they were landed.”

Within the period since Naval Surgeons have been appointed to the
superintendence of convict ships, the calamity has been considerably
lessened; and now, if two or three deaths occur in a voyage, it is
thought very unfortunate indeed. I may add of my own knowledge, that in
1818, when I was first in New South Wales in that service, out of 1,059
convicts embarked in England and Ireland, 1,057 were landed at Sydney in
tolerably good health. This favourable result may have been influenced
considerably, perhaps, by much greater attention having been given to
ventilation and cleanliness, and the convicts being less crowded than
they used to be for many years after the settlement of the colony.

Such, it appears, was formerly the mode in which the transportation of
convicts used to be conducted; but at present, under the superintendence
of men regularly educated in the profession, it has become a point of
duty for the Surgeon to take cognizance of every circumstance connected
with the care of the convicts. To this intent, the Instructions issued
to him from the Navy Board require the strictest attention to ascertain
that the convicts’ stores are economically expended, and to see that
every tendency to waste, irregular distribution, and improper
application of the Government property, is instantly checked and
prevented. Under these circumstances, his professional respectability
becomes unavoidably merged, in some degree, in the character of a spy,
in which odious light he is liable to be viewed by the commander, over
whose actions he is directed to exercise this disagreeable, and in many
cases unnecessary, controul.

The situation, therefore, of a Surgeon in a convict ship, besides being
one of great responsibility, is subject to serious inconvenience and
embarrassment from many existing circumstances, which are independent of
his power or choice, and which, deriving influence from long established
custom, have become inveterately incorporated with the present system of
the service, and render the appointment by no means a _sinecure_. This
is more strikingly evident in a female convict ship, where delicacy of
management must be combined with a firmness of discipline bordering upon
severity, which is at all times disagreeable, but becomes peculiarly
odious when enforced, as must generally be the case, where corporal
punishment is excluded. To regulate and duly restrain minds of ordinary
purity and habitude of obedience, is not unattended with difficulty: but
the duty is palpably irksome, though exercised with the utmost
discretion, over dispositions vitiated and turbulent, as those which are
generally found among female convicts; so much so, indeed, that few,
knowing the extent of this painful responsibility, will be found willing
to give the trial a repetition.

If he sanction, for instance, or connive at, the prostitution of the
women, he is liable not only to severe animadversion, but even to be
cashiered, and otherwise punished, by the authority under which he
serves. On the other hand, his embarrassments are equally pressing; for,
if he “enforce” the orders of the Navy Board, which will often involve
the commission of an act of violence, he may subject himself to a
criminal prosecution, the consequences of which may be fatal. Strange as
this may sound, it is perfectly correct. During the _forty nights_ I
kept watch in the prison of the Morley, it was my firm determination to
obey the letter and spirit of the orders I received in my Instructions,
persuaded then that in so doing I should have acted _legally_; and had
any of the seamen broken in, as they frequently threatened to do, I
would most assuredly have shot at the first that entered; which as I
have lately learned, would have been felony. Here is _Charybdis_ on one
hand, and _Scylla_ on the other.

In fact, the Surgeon in those ships has no means whatever but his own
physical strength to carry his instructions into effect; and should the
opposition he meets with in the discharge of his public duty be
formidable enough to trample down his authority, he can obtain no
redress, as the law has provided no remedy against the licentiousness of
sailors: consequently, to prefer complaints so as to give grounds for
prosecution against them, would only be a useless waste of his time. It
will, perhaps, be expected that the authority and co-operation of the
Master will be effective in support of the Surgeon’s intentions; such
expectation can only arise from the supposition that the Master’s
authority over his seamen is absolute, or at least that his orders are
promptly obeyed; but this supposition has been shown, in the journal, to
be unfortunately without foundation.

To act up closely to his Instructions, a Surgeon must examine every
bale, cask, parcel, or article which is to enter the ship, as will
appear from the subjoined extract from the Instructions.

“You are to take particular care that neither the Master nor any other
person be suffered, under any pretence whatsoever, to put on board any
private goods or articles of any kind, without the special permission of
the Board; and as the whole of the tonnage of the stores which may be
permitted to be shipped will be reported to the Governor of New South
Wales, the ship will be liable to seizure, if any greater quantity
should be found on board.”

Would not this duty be better performed by a Custom-house officer during
the continuance of the ship at any British port? If the vessel do not
depart without the stipulated quantity of water, which ought to be
determined by previous inspection, there will seldom be occasion to
touch at any other place during the voyage, and consequently no
opportunity can occur to take in goods without permission. The time
which must be given to matters of this nature, will be found to
interfere with the more immediate and important claims upon his
attention as Superintendent, such for instance as the following: “You
are to be careful that the convicts and passengers have their due
rations of provisions without any deduction whatever, and to see that
the victuals are properly cooked, and regularly issued at the usual
meal-times, as also that they have a sufficient proportion of water. You
are also to attend the opening of every cask of provisions supplied to
the vessel by Government, and to notice in your journal its mark,
numbers, and contents.”

In the discharge of duties so multifarious as are those of the Surgeon
Superintendent in a convict ship, any leaning to remissness justly
subjects him to the displeasure of the Board from whom he has the honour
of receiving his appointment and instructions; or he incurs the
liability of quarrelling perpetually with the Commander, when ever the
conduct of the latter may be thought to require his interference; which
becomes a constant source of uneasiness and vexation. Some men might be
driven by such annoyance to study their own comforts, and self-interest
grow importunate for a large share of consideration: in this case, sense
of public duty may perhaps become weak in proportion as self
predominates, and necessity, which rarely admits of compromise, compels
to an acquiescence with the Master’s views, in order to conciliate his
friendship, and cultivate a disposition to reciprocal concession on his
part.

Should this mutual understanding fail to be established very early in
the voyage, there is likely to be continual bickering between them, and
endless thwarting on every trifling occasion, until at length an open
rupture takes place, and the Master takes his revenge by dispensing with
the Surgeon’s future services as soon as the convicts have been
disembarked, and leaves him on shore to find a passage home in the best
manner he can. It is fair, however, to state, that the Navy Board so far
makes the Surgeon independent of such an unpleasant casualty, as to
allow him fifty pounds by way of passage money returning from the
colony: but whether this liberality be an equivalent for the severe
discharge of an ungracious duty, by which he is subject to that
emergency, is more than questionable, as it is a well known fact, that
the sum demanded for a passage from New South Wales to England is from
one hundred and fifty to two hundred pounds. To remain at the colony is
productive of manifold inconvenience, as the allowance of fifty pounds
will soon be expended for the necessaries of living, while the same
demand and difficulty to return will still continue.

This representation, although a bare recital of facts, may be objected
to as being the very worst state of the case supposed, and that the
argument rests upon a contingency which has but seldom occurred: but
this objection, far from weakening the position, gives an additional
weight to the statement, and claims for it a greater degree of
attention. For it can be said without fear of refutation, that nineteen
out of twenty of the Surgeons who go out in convict ships would return
involved in debts, which it would be utterly beyond their power to
discharge by any other means than an apprenticeship in the King’s Bench,
were they to rely solely on the fifty pounds to meet the expenses of the
passage home, which it may be seen requires four times that sum.

It should be considered, moreover, that convict ships return very rarely
from New South Wales directly, as they are mostly chartered to distant
ports in India, or are directed by their owners to proceed in quest of
cargo, after their engagement with Government is completed. In this
case, a considerable time usually elapses in preparing for this fresh
destination before the vessel can leave Sydney; and should the Surgeon
be entered as a passenger, he must abide by the regulations existing on
those occasions, by which he is bound to maintain himself on shore as
long as the ship remains in any port. The heavy expenses which this must
create, in addition to that of passage, must be seriously felt by the
time the vessel will have arrived in England. Either, then, the Surgeon
must subdue his honourable feelings by silencing scruples as to the
duties of Superintendent, or he must abide by such consequences as leave
him the inmate of a prison.

In order to avoid this horrible alternative, he generally enters into an
engagement with the ship-owners, before the vessel sails from England,
to give his professional attention to the crew during the voyage, and
thus secures a passage home without much expense; but this, it should be
observed, is to be effected only when no misunderstanding has taken
place between himself and the Commander, as otherwise he is liable to be
removed at the pleasure of that officer on the passage home. This
arrangement is doubtless convenient enough for both parties: but it may
be questioned whether the public service is benefited by it; for it can
hardly be expected, that the same vigilance and firmness which would
characterize the conduct of a Surgeon Superintendent, were he perfectly
independent, will be observed when bound by interest, by private
compact, and by necessity, to obey the Master’s orders, or at least give
implicit attention to his suggestions, thereby compromising that dignity
of character which properly belongs to his rank[30].

I wish this observation not to be construed into an insinuation against
the honour or honesty of the Masters of convict ships generally. If all
may be judged of from those with whom I had the pleasure of being
connected, they ought to stand very high indeed in public estimation;
for I firmly believe, that there could not be found in Britain men
possessed of more upright and honourable principles than they are; and
an acquaintance moderately extensive with others in that particular
service has impressed me strongly with sentiments of respect for their
integrity and general character.

On the other hand, it is very remote from my intention to throw the
slightest shade on the character of those professional gentlemen who
have been latterly employed in this service. Many of them possess well
cultivated minds, and are meritorious and valuable members of society;
actuated by that high sense of honour which would detain them in
obscurity for life rather than forfeit their principles; but some of
them have, at the same time, wives and children looking up to them for
support, to provide which, and to give them the advantages of education,
the utmost exertions of industry and economy are required. The
procedure, however, having been dictated, and in some degree made
general, by necessity, has never been considered disreputable.

There are one or two other points regarding the situation of Surgeons on
board of convict ships, which seem to me worthy of consideration: and as
they concern the respectability of the service, and the efficiency which
ought ever to attend that branch of duty, the mention of them, it is
hoped, will not be deemed disrespectful to the authority that watches
over such affairs.

According to the regulations now existing, the Surgeon is not allowed a
servant, which reduces him to the alternative of applying to the Master
to permit one of the ship’s company to do that duty; and this favour, if
granted, necessarily places him under personal obligations to the man
whose actions he is required to inspect, and often to control; or else
he must perform those offices himself; which cannot be less repugnant to
his feelings as a gentleman, than it must eventually prove injurious to
the service.

Let the situation of a Surgeon Superintendent in a convict ship be
compared with that of an officer in the army of the same rank, and it
will readily be seen how widely different are their comparative comforts
and respectability. A naval Surgeon ranks with a Captain of the land
forces; but this equality of rank, if not an absolute inconvenience, is,
under the presently existing circumstances, nothing but an empty name.
For instance, while the lowest commissioned officer in the army is
allowed a servant, exclusively of the attentions he can command from his
guard, the Surgeon Superintendent in the same ship enjoys the proud
privilege of ministering to his own wants.

Who would not sympathize with a gentleman driven to the necessity of
discharging the office of a menial, and that, too, in the presence of
those very persons of whom he has charge, and over whom he is
commissioned constantly to exercise authority? I beg to be understood
distinctly, in drawing the above comparison, not to imply any thing of
an invidious nature towards officers of the army doing duty in convict
ships, every one of whom, I am persuaded, justly merits whatever comfort
can be enjoyed in such a situation.

It is in place here to observe, that misunderstandings are likely to
occur from the first moment of sending the convicts on board. The Master
of the ship having signed a bond making himself responsible for the safe
custody of the prisoners, he alone is held accountable in the event of
any of them escaping; which would seem to give him a strong claim to
regulate them as he may think necessary during the voyage, while the
instructions given to the Surgeon appear to have a different import,
thus: “You are not to consider yourself as Naval Agent for Transports,
nor authorized in any way to interfere with the management or navigation
of the ship, your duty as Surgeon and Superintendent extending only to
the _care_ and _management_ of the convicts, and to see that the Master
fully complies with the terms of his charter party, a copy of which is
inclosed for your information.”

A military officer is ordered on board in command of a guard, without
any instructions whatever, it appears, as to his particular line of
duty; and he naturally enough imagines that the prisoners and every
other person in the ship are under his charge. Each of these, desirous
of securing respect for his authority, regards any interference of the
others with a jealous eye; which has given rise to many unpleasant
incidents, that have ultimately led to investigations in the colony,
where it was decided that the Surgeon Superintendent has the sole charge
over the prisoners. It would prevent much inconvenience, were the
respective duties of these officers clearly defined before the
commencement of the voyage; for at the end of it information must always
be too late for any useful purpose.

In consequence of a late regulation, Surgeons in this branch of the
service, before they can receive their pay, are obliged to produce a
certificate from the principal Surgeon of the Colony, “stating, that no
unnecessary expenditure was made of the medicines and necessaries
supplied for the voyage.” There is something excessively derogatory of
that respect which is due to professional character, in compelling a
Surgeon to apply for such a certificate as that here required. The very
application, moreover, involves an unbecoming insinuation, that neither
the word nor the oath of the individual is to be believed; for every
Surgeon, before he obtains his pay, is obliged to make affidavit that
the medicines and necessaries have been _faithfully_ expended: but it is
evident that even this solemn testimony, although squaring with every
cautionary purpose for which it was originally designed, is questioned
as to its truth, the recent regulation making it requisite to produce
another stronger voucher to the same purport. With the profoundest
deference to superior wisdom and official prudence, an additional
document of this nature appears superfluous; and no absolute necessity
therefore existing to demand its production, such a requisition, it is
presumed, might be omitted without injury to His Majesty’s service.

It would seem trifling and ridiculous to dwell longer on a subject of
such apparent insignificance; but let it not be forgotten, that of such
trifles is the greater part of human happiness or affliction composed:
neither ought it to be looked upon as an unreasonable wish, that those
professional men who have devoted the prime of life to their country’s
service, should, at least in some degree, be screened from unnecessary
humiliation.

-----

Footnote 30:

  The Commissioners of His Majesty’s Navy, finding that the allowance of
  fifty pounds is wholly inadequate to satisfy the demand for a passage
  home, have lately increased it to one hundred and ten pounds, and also
  granted ten shillings a day during the time a Surgeon is obliged to
  remain in the colony. Since these sheets were put to press, I have
  ascertained, that the subject of convict management, generally, has
  received considerable attention, and undergone some improvements. The
  structural weakness, and consequent insecurity, _so severely felt in
  the Morley_, have in some degree been remedied in fitting up the last
  female convict ship, Mary Anne. Some of the locks supplied to that
  ship were fitted in a more efficient manner, and appeared of a better
  quality than those which were formerly furnished. Those useful and
  highly necessary arrangements reflect credit on their authors, and
  cannot fail to benefit the service. It is earnestly to be hoped that
  they will be followed up with others which are still very requisite.




                              CHAPTER VI.

                         GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.


In the account given of the transmission of convicts to New South Wales,
I have endeavoured, “nothing extenuating, nor setting down aught in
malice,” to describe the true state of morality in that country. A wish
to avoid prolixity prevented the mention of some few particulars, which
from the weight that attaches to their consideration, as affecting the
security and reformation of the prisoners, seem to be not destitute of
interest, and may without impropriety, it is hoped, be briefly mentioned
here. In these remarks I shall simply state circumstances as they came
under my notice in their practical effects, leaving the question of
remedy exclusively in the hands of those who best can obviate the
existing inconveniences, and remedy the mischievous results arising from
the present mode of transportation.

In the first instance, then, I would respectfully direct attention,
immediate and effective, to the present plan of fitting up prisons on
board of convict ships. The manner in which those places are erected for
the detention of male prisoners is less objectionable in regard to
security than those for females. In the one case, the protection of the
persons in authority over the confined appears principally designed, as
opposed to any violence meditated on the part of the male prisoners, as
also for the security of the ship. But in the other, these
circumstances, if they are at all allowed to occupy consideration,
appear of but little moment, because it seems to be an opinion commonly
received, _that improper intercourse between the female convicts and the
sailors must continue as a matter of course, and that all endeavours to
prevent it will be fruitless, and therefore any precaution in fitting up
a prison for females, with that view, is superfluous_. As far as it
regards the safety of the ship and stores, that may perhaps be the case,
as from women, merely, no such danger need be apprehended; and this
notion has probably led to the present specious manner of construction,
in which the semblance of confinement only appears to be consulted.

The present alarming increase of crime renders every precaution for the
safe lodgement of male convicts both wise and salutary, particularly so
long as no pains are taken to subdue their predilection for plunder and
profligacy, by informing their minds with moral truths, and showing them
the just and happier resources of honest life. With regard to this class
of prisoners, however, there is little to recommend by way of
strengthening the rigour of the system of confinement, as sufficient
care is taken in that respect, that as little chance as possible is
allowed of their resorting to violence with any hope of success, even
were they so disposed: when in addition to the fetters and the strong
prevention of their prison, the military guard placed over them is a
balance more than sufficiently countervailing to any such design.

The situation of a female convict prison claims attention in a peculiar
degree, if the main purpose of reformation, the object originally in the
contemplation of their sentence, be kept in view. Revolting in the
extreme to every feeling of propriety, is the idea of abandoning these
miserable women to indiscriminate intercourse, among the crews of those
ships in which they are ordered to be conveyed to their place of
banishment. They are humanely removed from their former mischievous
connexions; but who would say that this is a mode in which they can be
reclaimed? Prostitution has been the bane of many of them; will they
thus become less impure?

By the very unaccountable neglect of moral instruction heretofore
prevailing, independently of other causes, every sailor, nay the
officers on board, could take advantage of the defenceless state of the
female convicts; and so grossly did these excesses increase by
indulgence, that the commonness of the practice flung a familiarity over
the evil, concealing its disgusting odiousness, and making it looked
upon as an affair of course, of ordinary, of necessary occurrence! The
Government, being made acquainted with its existence, have interfered
and forbidden the abuse. Has that been sufficient to root it out, or
even put a stop to its abominable recurrence? It is seriously to be
feared that it exists in full vigour, and that, generally speaking, so
far from being circumscribed, it is unlimited.

Under a system of organized depravity and abandonment, which is too
disgusting to be depicted, can any one be surprised,—can anyone expect
otherwise,—than that the female convicts should arrive in the colony
contaminated and hardened in turpitude and profligacy to the last
degree,—so absolutely vitiated as scarcely to retain the consciousness
of a single virtuous thought? Suppose a simple country girl were one of
these, convicted of her first offence; it surely is not unreasonable to
imagine, that, if sheltered from such iniquitous association, decently
treated, and rather encouraged by mild remonstrance, and timely humane
counsel, aided too by good example, she might be reclaimed from error,
and again become a useful member of society. But, in a school so
destructive of moral feeling, as that which a convict ship has hitherto
been permitted to present, will any such salutary result in her favour
be expected? Can any thing less than miracle save her from hopeless
ruin? The hope of moral reformation is quite idle, so long as such
detestable doings exist; nor will it ever be made a consideration in the
necessity of their removal, whether they owe existence to connivance or
laxity of discipline. If, then, the reformation of female convicts be
still made a portion of the public concern, some arrangements different
from those hitherto employed, or some more efficient application of such
as at present so miserably obtain, are indispensably necessary: if
otherwise, too much has already been done, and useless restraints have
been imposed.

The state of the prison in female convict ships should be such that no
ingenuity, or any effort short of open violence, could be sufficient to
command a communication with the prisoners. In this case, the
construction of the prison ought to be as firm at least as that for
males; nor should the minuteness of accommodation in the interior,
concerning personal comfort, cleanliness, and decent reserve, be
overlooked. It is essentially necessary that a small apartment be fitted
up securely, for the seclusion of any female whose profligate or
refractory disposition may render solitary confinement necessary. This
place should be thoroughly ventilated, and kept clean, but every thing
carefully excluded except the absolute necessaries of life; which,
during confinement, ought to consist of bread and water only. There may
be some few in every ship, too hardened in iniquity, to be influenced by
kind treatment and moral admonition, who would be intimidated by the
fear of punishment like this. The want of such a place in every female
convict ship is felt and acknowledged by all persons conversant in such
affairs. The only objection to the general adoption of this measure is,
that it would deprive the prisoners of part of that space which is at
present sufficiently limited. But room may be allowed for it without
inconvenience, by making the number to be transmitted less by six or
eight than the usual complement: the advantages would then be found
greatly to outweigh the difference in expense, which at most could be
but a trifle. The locks, moreover, should be of a durable and well
contrived description; neither liable to be picked, like the common
clumsy things now in use, nor spoiled by the effects of moisture; and
two or three spare sets, at least, should be supplied, to replace such
as may be injured on the voyage.

It will be seen, on reference to the journal, that the system of moral
restraint and instruction adopted, and the vigilance with which it was
enforced, prevented the sailors from making any aggression until the
voyage was more than half over; and that they were invited then only by
the weak state of the prison; presenting scarcely any opposition to
those who might wish to gain admission. It will also appear that some of
the sailors were removed from the ship at Hobart Town, Van Diemen’s
Land, for disorderly behaviour towards the prisoners: these men were
afterwards sent up to Sydney, as prisoners, in another ship, but on
their arrival there were set at liberty, without a single question being
asked them, or the slightest investigation instituted. I confess I was
desirous that the affair should have been inquired into at the time,
when the allegations might have been confirmed or disproved by the
testimony of those who had been eye witnesses of the transactions for
which those men had been arrested; and satisfactory evidence of the
circumstances of the whole voyage would then have been obtained, those
who were most competent to give information being on the spot. This is
the more to be regretted, because the practicability of moral
reformation in those ships would have been proved beyond the possibility
of cavil, _if the prisons be properly secured, and the Surgeon
Superintendent supported in the discharge of his duty, and in his
endeavours to accomplish an object of such desirable and paramount
importance_.

It is not from the impregnable structure of the prison in a convict
ship, that the great object of transportation is alone to be sought. The
arm of the law, which deprives the convict of the power of committing
mischief by sanctioning the coercive bolt or massy bar, can be as
effectual in restraining the licentious seaman from transgressing the
bounds of duty, and committing acts of violence towards the persons
confined; such are powers of ordinary and every day efficacy. Will they,
in the silent hour of night, in the lowering retreat of meditated guilt,
reach the mind in its secret recesses, and confine its aberrations from
rectitude? No: recourse must be had to means much more potent,—boundless
as created space, which will embrace all the deviations of the soul,
and, with a shepherd’s care, prevent its dangerous wanderings. Religious
influence, the enlivening, all-pervading force of conscience must be
called up to aid in checking criminal intention, to recall grave
recollections of the past, and turn the soul to chastening, penitent
reflection. Vain are all endeavours to amend, unless error be struck at
by a fundamental, unshowy energy, to clear away effectually the noisome
weeds that choke the paths of virtue.

Impressed with this conviction, I endeavoured to establish a moral and
religious system of management on board the ships intrusted to my care;
and as nothing of the kind was before in use[31], I feel ambitious to
witness the general adoption of that, or any improvement upon it which
will have the same humane purpose in view. Many well disposed and
charitable persons, I know, have expressed their apprehension that
permanent good from such a system cannot be established within the short
period in which a voyage is performed from England to the colony: and
that even could it be effected, the impression would be speedily effaced
by the corrupting association with those less under the influence of
reformation there. It must be allowed that the objection may have some
weight, but I hope not so as to discourage the laudable attempt; for,
were the good resulting even partial, operating to the reformation of a
few only, yet how gratifying must it be in such a case! When, however, a
better supported, more extensive trial is given to the system, I trust
it will appear that the harvest will be bountiful, and will well repay
the toil of cultivation.

The following facts may aid in giving incitement to future exertions of
the same kind. In my recent visit to New South Wales, I availed myself
of every means to ascertain how the prisoners who went out with me in
the Neptune had behaved since their arrival, and I could hear of nine
only, out of one hundred and seventy, who had been called before the
magistrates to answer for ill conduct, during a period of two years and
a half. Several of the number were recommended to situations of service
immediately on their landing, and I did not learn that any of them had
merited turning away. One individual came upwards of forty miles to see
me, and brought a very satisfactory testimonial from his master, which I
laid before the Governor, and requested that some indulgence might be
given him; with which His Excellency most obligingly and readily
complied. So far it is gratifying to know that the attempt at
reformation, however feeble, has not been entirely without success.

On the subject of employment for prisoners during the voyage, much might
be said; but its necessity and advantages are too numerous, and would
render observation tedious, however appropriate. If employment be found
useful in the Hulks, why should not its benefits be also tried on board
of convict ships? Convicts will certainly be better fitted for
industrious occupations in the colony, having been so employed upon
their passage thither; and as they are sent to that country not to be
maintained in idleness, why not inure them to habits of application
previously? In the colony they have inducements to work,—food and an
annual stipend; let them on board ship be so employed, as that a portion
of what they earn may revert to themselves, and they will work
cheerfully. Prisoners engaged at work are as much under the power of
restraint as ever; they will, it is presumed, be much more orderly; nor
can any reasonable fear be entertained of their contemplating mischief,
when steadily occupied with what they must be convinced is intended to
benefit themselves, especially if, at the same time, the effects of a
moral and religious system operate upon their minds.

Of the same nature is the establishment of a school, not alone for
children belonging to convicts, but for the instruction of junior
offenders; for it will be found in almost every case of this
description, that early depravity and ignorance are concomitants. The
generality of young culprits derive their hardening career in crime,
almost entirely from the want of religious instruction: it must
therefore be not only wise and humane, but also a pleasure demanded by
prudence and sound policy, to furnish them with the means of gaining
moral instruction from its source, by teaching them to read that best of
books, the Bible. Neither should those children be left without regular
employment: they also will long enjoy the blessings thus arising from
habits of industry.

Every one who has an interest in the welfare of the colony, as well as
the friends of humanity, must feel some degree of anxiety on the subject
of convict management, previously to their entering on those duties
which are prescribed by their sentence. With regard to males, less
concern is usually entertained, from their capability of sustaining
severity of punishment, if necessary, in a higher degree; but as to
females, corrective applications of that nature cannot be resorted to,
to produce reformation of life. In proportion, then, as the difficulty
of applying penal treatment exists, the more is prevention requisite to
preclude its necessity: but unfortunately this is too little regarded;
and to this circumstance may be, in a great measure, attributed that
deplorable state of habitual dissoluteness, aggravated by heinous
indulgence in open violation of decency, which prevails in the voyage to
New South Wales.

The evil consequences to the colony, from this abuse, are innumerable.
The continual disturbance of social connexions, and disregard of moral
obligation, are not its only bad effects; the great hope of colonization
is defeated: population is undoubtedly checked in its advance by such
pernicious practices. This fact is proved by the concurrent testimony of
all nations, and various arguments have been urged in illustration: but
the correctness of the opinion needs very little to maintain its
accuracy; the position may indeed be pronounced incontrovertible. In
reply to this it may be said, that population in New South Wales has
increased in a ratio greatly beyond that of any other country. The
extraordinary salubrity of the climate, and other circumstances, may
have contributed in a great degree to that remarkable increase, which
appears unquestionably without parallel even in the periods of American
colonization; but, were female virtue better protected, and cherished
with becoming care, there can be not a shadow of doubt, that the
population would be much greater than it is even now.

But the state of morals in the colony is not such as to encourage a hope
that this respect for the sex is likely to be a prevailing sentiment, at
least for some time to come; and, until that change shall have arrived,
it is feared that few of the corrupt females who are transported thither
will become reformed there: indeed it is hardly to be expected that they
should, unless their minds have been fortified by salutary management
previously to their arrival, as afterwards there is not a moment allowed
them for reflection. The same violent passions which raged uncontrolled
before and during the voyage, so far from subsiding, are worked up to
excess by wretches of the very worst description, many unhappily of
their own sex, who beset them with temptation to their utter ruin.

From the best information I was able to obtain, it appears that the
proportion of males to that of females is somewhat above _six_ to _one_.
It will be asked, perhaps, Why is not marriage encouraged, and how
happens it that any woman can remain single for any time, the proportion
being so small? Marriages certainly do take place to the utmost extent
of propriety; and investigation of the circumstances in many cases, if
deemed necessary, would, it is apprehended, painfully prove that those
limits are frequently exceeded. Marriages are continually taking place
between men and women whose wives and husbands are living in England;
some, it is asserted on good authority, in the colony under fictitious
names. But although this breach of law is punishable at home by
transportation, little inquiry or complaint is made concerning it in the
colony, and punishment is seldom inflicted for its commission, owing
probably to its being rarely brought under judicial cognizance by those
concerned.

Marriage occurs also very often for the purpose of getting a woman out
of the Factory; that is, letting her loose on society, without the least
intention of the parties living together, save for a few days to cover
appearances. It is known to happen sometimes, that such connexions are
formed by making a contract beforehand, that the woman, wife so called,
should appropriate a certain quantum of the wages of sin for the support
of the man who thus espouses her! In this state the degraded victim of
sensuality is often transferred from one master to another, bandied
about in this shocking and unnatural way, until the mere figure is all
that remains of the human being. Should intemperance, which is always
observable in such cases, and excessive extravagance, impair or totally
destroy the scanty means of the _protector_ for the time being, the
female so engaged looks without concern on the misfortune of which she,
perhaps, has been the principal cause, and if another paramour offer,
she attaches herself to him with indifference, and so the career of
guilt meets with but little interruption.

In several conversations on this disgraceful subject with some well
informed men, whose judgement in other matters is deserving of respect,
I was assured that no remedy of immediate efficacy could be applied to
these evils; that time alone could weaken their malignancy, and that
they would wear out of themselves! This shocking conclusion, almost
amounting to despair of their eradication, was made by men who daily
witnessed these vile practices, and lamented their enormity and
prevalence, fully sensible of their miserable consequences.—But the
performance of these odious tragedies is not left entirely to the
convicts. Others, whose stations ought to claim some degree of respect,
seem to vie with those degraded captives for the pre-eminence in guilt,
many of them proudly wearing the laurels thus _honourably_ acquired: for
these enormities, which depravity has made familiar, even palliation is
insolently attempted, and that too on grounds sometimes unpardonably
offensive to decency.

I have heard men of reputed good sense and discrimination, both here and
in New South Wales, argue with much earnestness, and a feeling of
exultation which I would willingly consider not real, that the females
who have been under the management of the _Ladies’ Committee_ generally
behave worse during the voyage, and after their arrival in the colony,
than those from any other prison whatever; inferring that all the
disinterested and zealous exertions of that amiable association have
been unproductive of any the least good.—Among those in the colony
holding, or at least professing to hold, this opinion, a general feeling
seemed to prevail, that all efforts made to form those unfortunate
females to habits of virtue, propriety, and industry, were nugatory, and
calculated rather to injure than promote the interests of the colony.
The very endeavours to prevent illicit intercourse upon the voyage were
treated as if they had a tendency to render the women unfit for their
proper situations in the places to which they were going! They
maintained that the character of these females is utterly reprobate,
beyond the possibility of being reclaimed, and that it is therefore
useless to think of reforming them,—that they should be abandoned to
their wretched lot.

So long as persons holding such sentiments, and acting upon them, would
render the subjects of their obloquy incapable of improvement by
rekindling their profligacy and contributing to their misfortune, and
that such conduct can be followed as an example, so long indeed it is
vain to hope that any instruction in prisons can effect permanent
reformation. It would not be doing violence to probability, nor, I
think, exceeding the bounds of charity, to assert that the principles by
which such abettors of vice are actuated are referable to licentious
propensities, which the most _liberal_ of them would, perhaps, be
unwilling to acknowledge as belonging to himself. Why then would
they,—for the evidence is strong against them,—desire to continue those
wretched women in a state of debasement? Is it that themselves may be
allowed to pass unnoticed amidst the general depravity which must be the
certain consequence of such a state of things? These men would be stout
advocates for the baneful principle of _utility_ described by _Hume_, or
the still more pernicious one of _general good_ so strenuously
recommended by _Godwin_.

While such principles are deemed the basis of moral law, it is
impossible to calculate on any other than the most destructive results,
as no other can be reasonably expected from a demoralized population,
amongst whom honesty and decency are in perpetual violation. Can any
reprobation, then, be thought too severe, of that unmanly, ungenerous
conduct, which, by fostering vice in the advocacy of self-example, would
render a future generation more immoral than the past, and lead to
complete anarchy of all the rational powers of the mind? It has been
well observed by a late anonymous writer, that “whoever weakens in
society the veneration for morality, is a traitor to his country; and
whoever diminishes the influence of religion in the world, as a rule of
daily conduct, is a traitor to his God.”—The language is as forcible as
the truth is incontrovertible.

The assertion, however, on which so much stress is laid,—that the women
from Newgate behave worse than those from other prisons,—is deserving of
some examination. If we reflect on the state of society in London, and
how infinitely more numerous are the opportunities to crime and its
consequences than elsewhere; the dissoluteness which always exists in a
crowded metropolis; and the daring depravity that there marks the
gradations of offence; if we carefully survey the life of “a regular
London female thief who has passed through every stage of guilt, who has
spent her youth in prostitution, and her maturer age in theft and
knavery; whose every friend and connexion are accomplices;” one of those
who are “the refuse of the capital; that is, the very worst description
of criminals, committed for the very worst excesses of crime; women who
had been frequent inmates of a prison, and with whom thieving was ‘their
daily bread:’” if these circumstances, I say, are duly considered, they
must be admitted, by every unprejudiced individual, to form grounds of
difficulty in the endeavours to reclaim offenders from their wickedness
in such a society, beyond, greatly beyond the less hardened habits of
provincial iniquity; and should it even appear that the former behave
much worse than the latter on board a ship, it can afford very little
cause for ill-judging malignity to triumph. Could aught else, even then,
be shown, but that the time those unfortunate women were under the
guidance of the Ladies’ Committee was too short for the completion of
their benevolent purpose? Is it reasonable to expect that long-rooted
habits of idleness and vice, impressed on the mind from the first
dawning of perception, can be broken through, and the salutary work of
reformation perfected in the few weeks or months they may have been
favoured with those pious attentions? But should it be proved that the
conduct of the women from Newgate is at least as good, if not better
than what is exhibited by those from the country prisons, to what cause
shall be ascribed an alteration so rapid, and so little to be
expected;—an alteration amounting to almost an entire change of natural
disposition? It is impossible for scepticism, or prejudice itself, to
assign any other cause than the influence of moral precept so kindly and
unceasingly inculcated by the Committee.

The women from Newgate formed one third of the entire number sent out in
the Morley; and I can declare conscientiously that their conduct was
_not worse_ than that of an equal number of the others: on the contrary,
the effects of exhortation were more observable in their manner, in a
very remarkable degree; and during the voyage, whenever it was found
necessary to rebuke any of them, the mere mention of any of the Ladies
of the Committee had the effect of bringing them to a sense of their
error, which in almost every instance was attended with profound sorrow,
a circumstance certainly not always observable in their companions. I
can further assert that there was infinitely more riot, wickedness, and
abandonment, amongst _seven_ women who were permitted to accompany the
soldiers that formed the guard in the Neptune in 1817, than amongst _all
the female convicts_ in the Morley put together: nay, in stating this
fact, I feel that the latter are injured by being brought into such a
comparison.

In a conversation on this subject at Van Diemen’s Land with Doctor
Bromley, who was Surgeon Superintendent in the _Lord Wellington_, he
assured me that he had less trouble in that ship with the women who came
from Newgate than all the rest. Three of these very women on their
arrival were received into the service of Mrs. Governor MACQUARIE, where
their conduct was so uniformly correct as to merit that lady’s
approbation; a circumstance so uncommon, that she felt it a duty to
acquaint Mrs. _Fry_ of the happy change. Mrs. Macquarie was prevented
from writing by ill health at the time I left the colony, but desired me
to communicate the fact as she had herself intended. That several of
those who went out in the Lord Wellington behaved very ill after their
arrival, does not militate against the system of reform adopted by the
Ladies’ Committee; nor would my opinion of its invaluable efficacy be
altered in the least, were I told that every one of those who were under
my care has been ruined in the colony, because I know what a state of
depravity prevails there. Minds much stronger than theirs have yielded
to temptation; and in no country is that evil more concentrated and
destructive than in New South Wales.

With respect to the rising generation in the colony, I have not
sufficient data to enable me to speak with certainty; but it may be
stated that, notwithstanding the boundless depravity of the parents, the
children, generally speaking, are well disposed, given to industry, and
of religious habits. They are represented as being passionately fond of
instruction; and many of them, who are not blessed with the means of
obtaining information from more direct and legitimate sources, known to
make successful efforts to learn to read and write, without any
assistance.

This statement so much resembles that of a bitter fountain producing
sweet water, that credence to its accuracy can hardly be expected; yet I
had opportunities of satisfying myself of its truth in four or five
instances; and I was told of a great many others on testimony which I
have no reason to disbelieve, but I would not be pledged for their
authenticity. An anecdote related by the Reverend Mr. _Cartwright_, when
he and I accompanied the Governor in his late excursion to the newly
discovered country, may be relied on. This gentleman is the resident
clergyman at Liverpool, where on Sunday evening he usually gives
instruction to all the children who choose to come to his house. It
happened on one of those occasions, that heavy rains had caused an
overflow of the river, so as to render it impossible for any one to wade
across, consequently he did not expect any of those children whose
parents lived on the opposite side: to his astonishment, however, some
of them came. On inquiring how they got over, it appeared that they had
tied their clothes upon their heads, and swam across, intending to
return also in the same manner when the instructions they came to
receive were finished.

In more advanced age, these principles are further developed, and a
great many of the young men show themselves desirous of avoiding the
errors of their parents: but the impression on my mind, from the best
information I could collect, is not so favourable with regard to the
grown-up females, who, probably from want of that instruction which is
more accessible to the other sex,—I speak of the lower classes,—are
corrupted by baneful association and bad example. In this particular,
indeed, the statements of some respectable persons, desirous rather of
extenuating than magnifying, are strongly corroborative of the fact. It
was not extraordinary, they assured me, to see a young woman of this
description living a few months, first with one man, then with another,
and so on with five or six, fixing on one at last, whom she thought
proper to marry.

In this state of midnight gloom, which envelops this new and interesting
portion of the world, who will not delight to find that the light of the
Gospel is about to shed its refulgence, to dispel the dark clouds of
ignorance and irreligion which blind the understanding, and, withering
in their deadly shade the energies of the mind, pervert the noblest
impulses of the heart? Bible Societies, benevolent associations, and
schools both public and private, are springing up in the midst of this
unhallowed chaos, by means of which the pure principles of Christianity
will be disseminated, and their benign ascendency over corrupt
temptations diffused through many hardened and profligate minds.

The British public generally, and the colonists individually, are under
the most heavy obligations to those persons whose active benevolence and
liberal contributions have laid the foundation of establishments on
which general prosperity and happiness will eminently rise. It would be
as unjust as difficult to conceal the distinguished leading exertions of
_the Honourable Judge-Advocate_ WYLDE, in forming these excellent
institutions: to his transcendent talents and unwearied zeal every lover
of social happiness must hold himself indebted. For it is impossible
that any man possessing the faculty of reason, be his rank and fortune
ever so great, can feel indifferent as to the state of the great body
politic: it is, indeed, those of large property who should feel the
strongest interest in the propagation of those principles which alone
can render possession even for an hour perfectly secure. What would be
the consequence in that respect, were a whole community to shake off all
the restraints imposed by the consciousness of moral obligation?

A retrospect of the revolution in France will furnish an answer to this
question,—one which ought to fill the most insensible with awful
reflection. The baneful writings of Bayle, Voltaire, Rousseau, Hume, and
others of that stamp, prepared the minds of the French people for the
reception of infidelity and irreligion; and their impious labours were
further aided by those of Helvetius, D’Alembert, Condorcet, Raynal,
Diderot, Paine, &c. These enemies of God and man achieved their hellish
work under the specious pretext of LIBERTY, or “_perfecting the new
philosophy_.”—Accordingly, Christianity was abolished; the existence of
the Deity denied, and even the mention of His Name, except in blasphemy
and execration, proscribed and punished with death, by a law which the
rage of impiety kept in force nearly four years. At that dreadful
period, marriage was declared an unsocial monopoly, whilst by another
_law_, as if such enactments could decide the truth of the case, death
was declared nothing but an eternal sleep. What an admirable salvo to
the guilt of the catastrophe!—And what has been that catastrophe? They
murdered their legitimate King,—butchered the nobility and clergy,—and
sluiced the scaffold with the blood of thousands of every age, sex, and
denomination. Property of every kind abandoned, became the spoil of
those assassins, who without regard to “general good” divided the whole
among themselves.

With those scenes of blood fresh in his recollection, who in this
country could rest in security, or feel assured that either his life or
property was out of danger, if every wretch or ruffian deaf to religion
and moral duty were allowed to follow the impulse of guilty passion,
without alarm, or dread of the Divine vengeance? Farewell the influence
of law and justice when such is the state of immorality in a populous
community, that impiety is the order of the day, and no regard is paid
to the dictates of conscience and its obligations. Even Voltaire, when
among his associates, used to prevent them from uttering impious and
blasphemous expressions before servants, “lest,” said he, “they should
cut all our throats.”

No person, surely, will pretend to say that physical power and daring
intrepidity do not exist in as great a degree in England as they ever
were known in France; or that an infuriated mob here would be less
dangerous than in that country. This narrowed view of the question
extends so far only as regards worldly prudence: if examined more
broadly, the duty will be found paramount and imperative on all, to
guard with jealous care the principles on which our social edifice is
raised, and which under the British Constitution deservedly excites the
admiration of the world. But if the bases of this glorious structure be
shaken or impaired, that which is the production of the aggregate wisdom
of ages must crumble into dust. Society could no longer then exist,
there being no bond to link together the disunited members; there would
in fact be nothing for which existence could be desirable. Odious
anarchy would stifle in blood every feeling that could render our
labours useful, and life a blessing: the affections between parents,
children, and brethren, would be deadened, and the treasures of
friendship devastated by selfish rapacity.

“Crimes of every description,” says Dr. Colquhoun, “have their origin in
the vicious and immoral habits of the people; in the little attention
paid to the education of the inferior orders; and in the want of some
plan for regulating the morals of this useful class of the community.”
No one, it is presumed, will controvert the truth of this sentiment; but
while the necessity of _educating the inferior orders_ is generally
admitted, very few come forward willingly to engage in that important
task, nay, I will call it positive duty. Should it be attributed to the
lower class as a _crime_, that their parents were too poor or too
profligate to procure for them the benefits of education, sufficient at
least to enable them to peruse the Scriptures, and thereby be impressed
with the obligations of Christianity,—their duty to God and their
neighbour?

It will be said, perhaps, that the inculcation of those duties belongs
exclusively to the Clergy. Persons maintaining this opinion are, I fear,
but little influenced by the true spirit of charity, although the
_letter_ or external signs of it may be familiar to them. It is, in
truth, the duty of every one who is qualified for the task, whether
clergyman, or layman, whether Protestant or Catholic, Episcopalian or
Presbyterian, Methodist or Independent, or be his Christian creed what
it may, to instruct his fellow creature “in the way he should go,” and,
if found ignorant or erring, to put him right if he can: no sect or
denomination of Christians can, without manifest injustice, be excluded
from the labour of philanthropy.

Having described the condition of the females sent to the Factory at
Parramatta, it would be as unnecessary as painful to comment further on
the inaptitude of that establishment, in its present circumstances, to
produce any reformatory effects; particularly as a hope is confidently
indulged that the existing evils will soon be lessened, if not wholly
obviated, by the erection of another Factory in the same neighbourhood.
This building, which was expected to be ready for the reception of the
female convicts about last February, has given rise to expectations of
its utility very sanguine indeed, but in no respect exceeding what I
would look for, were it in the power of the local Government to ensure
its success commensurately with the design. The very liberal manner in
which His Excellency _Governor_ MACQUARIE has invariably come forward
with his purse, as well as patronage, on all occasions to advance any
measure conducive to public good, must convince every one of his
devotedness to the welfare of the colony over which he presides, and
which has undoubtedly acquired, under his administration, innumerable
benefits highly important and imperishable. But when the character of
those persons is considered, to whom of necessity, for want of better,
the execution of what by them are thought _trifling_ concerns is
intrusted, an apprehension will strongly intrude, that many of the evils
now complained of in the old Factory will be transferred to the new,
under the _care_ of the present overseers.

As matters now stand, to indulge a hope of reformation, if the present
management be persisted in, would be only to court disappointment: the
necessity of substituting some other more efficacious must be evident.
With a view of contributing some little assistance to accomplish this
most desirable end, I beg leave to offer a few suggestions, which it is
hoped will be considered as given disinterestedly.

I would therefore venture to recommend that choice be made of some
elderly man and woman of respectability, in England, whose moral and
religious character can be steadily relied on, to be sent out and have
charge of the new Factory. Two such persons might readily be found, who
for a moderate remuneration would discharge the duties of that important
trust with fidelity; and being independent of local connexions,
prejudices and interests, their appointment would at once put an end to
those iniquitous collusions by which the vile projects in speculation,
and the whole tissue of existing abuses are maintained.

Strongly convinced by experience of the necessity and advantages of
classification, I would advise its adoption as a preliminary and
indispensable step to success, distinguishing thereby the inmates in
reference to the degrees of reformation they evince. A code of rules
should also be prepared, of which undeviating observance ought to be
enforced. Those recommended by the Committee for the improvement of
prison discipline, &c., are admirably calculated to ensure all the
benefits that can reasonably be hoped for from imprisonment, and with
some modification, which local circumstances will require, may be
generally adopted.

Some enlightened and well disposed persons whom I had frequent
opportunities of consulting on this and other such subjects, approved
much of the above suggestions, knowing how greatly their application was
demanded by necessity; and their approbation was gratifying,
particularly that of one gentleman, who is decidedly the first authority
in the colony for legal information and personal experience. This
gentleman, whose name has been already mentioned, strongly advised a
Factory to be established remote from every town, in the _Cow-pastures_,
as being on every account most eligible; where there could be no
opportunities for the persons confined to procure spirits, or be
deteriorated by the seductive influence of temptation, or vicious
example. In that establishment, which should be altogether probationary,
the prisoners, sent from the ships as they arrive, might be detained,
each individual being obliged to wear an uniform dress distinguishing
her class, which ought not to be laid aside during the time of
continuing at that place.

It is also recommended that none of the inmates of the probationary
establishment should be assigned as servants directly therefrom; but as
their advancement to reformation is proved, and they become
distinguished for good conduct, they should meet with encouragement.
This may be shown by removing them to the Factory at Parramatta, which
ought to be made a depôt for the well behaved only, whence the settler
might have servants supplied them on making proper application. These
arrangements being in perfect accordance with the sentiments of persons
best acquainted with the true state of affairs, and the wants of society
in the colony, are respectfully submitted for consideration. The
measures are few and simple; but if they be adopted in time, and duly
enforced, little doubt is entertained of their producing a change
beneficial to the whole community.


                              CONCLUSION.

From the foregoing arguments, grounded on facts, which I am satisfied
are irrefutable, the following inferences may be deduced:

_First._—If the object of transportation to New South Wales be only the
_punishment_ of the criminal, it is seldom effected in the proportion
contemplated by the law; as many of those deserving the most rigorous
treatment live there much more comfortably than they could have done at
home, and realize large fortunes: while others, with not a tenth of
their turpitude, are consigned to misery and ruin.

_Secondly._—In the case of Females, the _merited quantum_ of punishment
is equally uncertain in its infliction, though always excessively
severe, owing to their abandoned mode of life.

_Lastly._—But if the scope of transportation be, what it _ought to
be_,—the _reformation_ of the offender; it has, with the greater number
of males, been unsuccessful; and with regard to females, it has very
rarely indeed been attained.




                               APPENDIX.

                      _Reflections on Seduction._


Seduction, in the various baneful consequences hence arising to society
and its moral disposition, is so intimately connected with the scope of
my present general inquiries, that I cannot forbear to give a brief
sketch of some of its most obvious evils, though a full description of
the character would far exceed the limits of my present purpose; and to
describe the pernicious consequences of that crime in all its baseness
of effect would, I candidly confess, require abilities far superior to
mine.

The British Constitution, and the salutary statutes made for the
protection of life and property, have for many ages, one delights to
contemplate, become deservedly the boast of every true-born Englishman:
under the benignant influence of their mild atmosphere, the most
extensive field has been opened for the cultivation of all those virtues
that aggrandize a state, or can render private life amiable; and the
combined powers of both, have united to excite the admiration and call
forth the envy of surrounding nations.

The politician and the moralist behold with equal pleasure the glorious
era, which a few years since successfully crowned our efforts to break
the detested chain that tyranny had forged for the general enslavement
of the world. The lover of science and the patient investigator of
nature’s hidden laws, in other countries, must acknowledge with mingled
feelings of pleasure and regret, that in no climate under heaven does
genius flourish as in Britain; and under the influence of this
impression, and in quest of knowledge, they are travelling daily from
every corner of the globe to our favoured shores.

While, however, we exultingly contemplate our advancement, and that
distinguished eminence we have risen to in the scale of kingdoms, shall
we inertly fail to examine if some wheel or new power might not yet be
added, that would tend to the improvement and perfection of the vast
machine? In the multiplicity of legislative measures prudently enacted
by our forefathers for the defence of our property, and the protection
of liberty both civil and religious, is it not surprising that they
should have thought it unnecessary to pass some law to guard, and some
barrier to fence around, that greatest and most interesting of national
glories, the chastity of our daughters? To me, I confess, this
oversight, as it seems to be, is utterly unaccountable.

Let any dispassionate and well regulated mind take into active
consideration the injury arising from the commission of those crimes
which the statutes denominate petit and grand larceny, or even felony,
with the overwhelming misery into which thousands of amiable and
industrious families are plunged by the destructive seducer, and
conscientiously declare which of them he thinks most pernicious to the
peace and general interests of society; or which of those abhorred
characters he would least dread to suffer from himself:—whether he would
rather be deprived of part of his property, or have a lovely daughter,
the pride of his life, ruined and debauched. Let us suppose a case as
every day it too unhappily occurs in real life.

The miserable father of a family, worn down by misfortune, poverty and
ill health, has to look upon a virtuous wife, and an interesting group
of innocent children, whom his utmost industry cannot save from the
merciless pressure of squalid rags worse than nakedness, and starvation
worse than death. He beholds them pining away without a friendly hand
near that will supply a morsel of bread, or even administer the
imaginary relief of consoling pity: their reiterated cry for food
pierces his agonized heart, and in feelings bordering on distraction he
rushes forth to procure for them a temporary respite from the grave,
determined to seize the first eatable that falls in his way: perhaps he
breaks into a neighbour’s field, whence he carries off a sheep, or a
pig, to protract the immediate destruction of his perishing family. For
this, on detection, the laws of his country may sentence him to death,
or at best the timely mercy of his gracious Sovereign may remit the
punishment to transportation.

On the other hand, mark the seducer. Destitute of the principles of
religion and humanity, he may wantonly, and with relentless soul,
destroy the happiness and peace of a whole family, in basely undermining
the virtue of an innocent and valued daughter, the flattering, brightest
hope of their life,—the prop of their age, and on whose talents or
industry the whole family were perhaps then immediately depending for
bread. Insidiously and cautiously has the infamous attack been carried
on; and if foiled in his first cruel attempt, her faith must be shaken,
and her understanding perverted by specious arguments, wicked sophistry,
and the deadly poison of irreligion, before she can be led by
imperceptible degrees into guilt, misery, and certain present perdition,
whatever fears may belong to the hereafter. What punishment can be found
for the miscreant who thus deliberately and maliciously poisons the
heart’s blood of unoffending innocence? Why, in nine cases out of ten,
none at all! Humanity stands abashed.—Justice answers not.—Pity, in
surprise and indignation, exclaims, Can it be?—In England too?—Can it,
alas! be true?

Cold-blooded monster! with refined cruelty he often selects his intended
victim from that station where fortune has denied not only the luxuries
but the necessaries of life; and where the want of those comforts can
only be compensated and rendered tolerable in heaven’s choicest
blessing, a virtuous and contented mind. The abandoned sensualist knows
but too well the poor man’s inability to vindicate in a court of law the
violated purity of his once innocent and happy daughter. But what
redress could he obtain even were he opulent? An action can only be
brought against him who has unmercifully shut out every ray of future
joy, for the mere loss of his child’s personal services, quaintly
denominated “_per quod servitium amisit_;” and at best recover but a
paltry adjudication in money for that which is above all price:—a sorry
remuneration, truly, for such a loss! It is in fact a cruel mockery of
justice, and the triumph of crime.

Contrast the narrow and grovelling spirit that seems to characterize
this most miserably defective principle of legal justice, with that
noble independence and manly defence which dictated MAGNA CHARTA and the
BILL OF RIGHTS! It is far from my intention to cast the slightest shade
on the memory of our ancestors, many of whom thought no price too great
for liberty, often indeed purchased even with their own blood, that they
might bequeath it to posterity unsullied and unfettered, the legitimate
birthright and glory of their future sons. But where our forefathers
have done so much for us, shall we not, in kindred spirit, attempt to do
something for ourselves, or for our children? Shall we suffer the
seducer to walk forth in open day, or at the midnight hour, to carry
devastation into every cottage, and to ravage with impunity the sacred
sanctuaries of virtue? Forbid it justice,—forbid it humanity,—forbid it
Heaven!

I cannot believe that one father in a thousand has ever turned his mind
to the contemplation of the direful effects on society, of indulgence in
this ferocious and unlawful passion; or the general voice of mankind
would have been raised to hunt from their abodes the hellish tiger in
human form: the hand of power, too, would surely have been lifted up to
shield the innocent from his fell assault. Might not the seducer, in
strict justice, be classed in malice prepense and principle with the
most sanguinary murderer? On comparison, it is my firm conviction that
the former is the author of more pain and misery to the great family of
mankind.

In the sketch of such a character my labour might be in some degree
facilitated by a short account of one who, a very few years since,
figured very conspicuously in the gay world; and presuming, therefore,
on the idea, I venture to insert it. Would to God! that the miseries I
shall have to unfold existed only in imagination; but, alas! fancy will
have no place in the working of the dark picture.

The detail was written by the gentleman himself, principally during a
twelvemonth’s confinement from a wound received in a duel. Of this he
ultimately died; but not before the hideous forms of vice and crime had
been exposed to his terrified view in all their naked deformity. At the
time this melancholy scene took place I was in India; and on my return a
packet containing his journal, and an elegant copy of the Bible, which I
had many years before advised him to peruse, was put into my hand by a
friend of his. This bequest, with the following letter, was marked for
me by his own hand a few days before his dissolution:

                                                  “——, May 15th, 1816.

    “However widely, my much valued friend, the theory and practice of
    our lives may have differed, I flatter myself that at this moment
    our sentiments are the same. That there is a just God, I never
    once doubted; and that he is merciful, and willing to pardon the
    sins of the penitent, it is now my interest firmly to believe. My
    career is nearly finished—I have languished long, and been very
    miserable; for, until within a few months, I never dared encourage
    a hope of pardon from Heaven; and although my mind is become more
    tranquil, I still fear that I am a great way from salvation,
    though I feel I am but a step from the grave. I can now see that
    your reasons for avoiding me were just, but I think they were
    cruel. Great God! What have I been—what am I to be? Gracious
    Heaven! If the very little you knew of me could make you avoid me,
    what will you think after reading my journal? I have often
    intended to burn it—I wish you would do so: yet, it may be useful
    in warning some fellow-creature of the damnation which the labours
    of my life had industriously prepared. If you think so, dispose of
    it as you like.—My false shame is all gone. I care not now who
    knows my wickedness. But should you ever make it public—oh! spare
    my family—my beloved, wretched mother:—happy for us both had I
    never been born. I wish you were now with me; but, it was my
    misfortune through life never to have a friend—and I neglected Him
    who in death would not have forsaken me.

    “I leave this, together with the journal of my perdition, and
    the blessed book you so long ago recommended, in the care of L.
    G., who promises to deliver them to you. Have I fallen so low in
    your estimation that you exclude me entirely from calling you
    friend? Alas! I never had a friend. My proud heart could never
    sue for any man’s pity; but I beseech you not do deny me yours.
    O pray for me.—May your life be as happy as mine has been
    miserable.—Adieu,—Adieu!

                                                             “—— F——.”

The only regret I feel in giving these interesting memoirs to the public
is the fear, indeed almost the painful certainty, that the wounds of his
respectable family may thus be made to bleed afresh, in the recollection
of his errors. I persuade myself, however, that they will acquit me of
any unworthy motive, much less wanton desire to inflict unnecessary
pain: rather a thousand times would I pour into their afflicted bosoms
the healing balm of friendly sympathy and pity; and whilst I pursue the
dismal narrative, my own heart will remain no stranger to the feelings
of sorrow due to the fate of my unfortunate hopeless friend.

Before I proceed to any extract from this curious biography, it may not
be out of place just to glance at his early life and education.

F—— was the only child of a country gentleman of large fortune, and
ancient family, still more distinguished for morality and virtue. At the
early age of five years, this youth gave extraordinary proofs of mental
energy, having in the short space of four days committed to memory one
hundred and five verses of the New Testament, which he used to repeat to
his father without a single mistake. With increasing years his genius
expanded, and evinced a readiness and power of conception clearly
reflecting talents of the first order. It was natural for parents to be
proud of such a child, and to determine that his education should be
fitted to his capacity. A tutor was accordingly provided, well qualified
for the important task, who discharged the duty with honour and
fidelity.

At fourteen, having read the whole of the classics, he was already
qualified for entering the university, and made considerable progress in
mathematics, logic, history, and painting. Being considered too young
for college, a year was suffered to elapse, during which he was
instructed in music, dancing, and fencing, and also became acquainted
with French. In every thing he undertook, the utmost expectation was
realized. Thus unusually accomplished, he went to college, and remained
there five years; during which period his industry appears not to have
relaxed; his avidity for knowledge, on the contrary, increased until he
had drunk deeply of every source of information and knowledge.

On his return home he applied himself with such diligence to the
cultivation of science, particularly chemistry and astronomy, that his
health became impaired, whole nights being spent in a little observatory
that had been constructed under his own direction.

That his mind should have all the polish it was capable of receiving,
his father wished him to travel; to which, as in every thing else, he at
once implicitly yielded. The short peace of Amiens furnished an
opportunity for gratifying this wish, which they were the more anxious
to see carried into effect, as an elderly gentleman of great scientific
and literary attainments, about to proceed to Paris, offered the
advantages of his experience and protection.

Dazzled with the lustre which accompanies the high-sounding term
“philosopher,” the parents never inquired into the religious sentiments
of the man whom they had chosen as the companion of their highly-gifted
son: this sad inadvertence, in the issue proved his ruin. The religious
principles, in truth, of this man, if religious principles he could be
said to have, hung so very loosely about him, that he might be said to
live in a sort of practical atheism: every action of his life evinced
his belief that there could be no God, nor Governor of the universe;
openly abjuring all dependence on that great Being by whose goodness and
mercy alone he was permitted to exist.

The first lesson he endeavoured to impress on the generous mind of his
pupil, was the non-existence of any omniscient eye to observe, or any
omnipotent arm to punish; and that, as life was short, wisdom chiefly
consisted in filling it up with as much pleasure as possible. Here it
must be acknowledged he was treading upon tender ground; for though
religion is by far the most important part of education, in the present
case it had been the only one that had been neglected, and here alone
could the assault have been made with any hope of success.

Introductory letters and other necessary documents being procured, the
travellers commenced their journey. They were amongst the first from
England who arrived in Paris, where their introductions, together with
that politeness for which the French people have ever been remarked, and
the unbounded festivity which always attends cessation of hostilities
between contending nations, ensured them a reception not less hospitable
than distinguished. Endowed with uncommon talents that gave an
irresistible charm to their conversation, the society of both was
courted; and neither of them showed much reluctance to drink deep at the
voluptuous spring, which too often contaminates the morals of the
unreflecting and gay in all countries, and by which the higher ranks of
the French have been found to be particularly corrupted.

The accomplishments and agreeable qualities of the reputed philosopher
made the pupil at first look up to him as an oracle; but, often
staggered by his openly avowed sentiments of infidelity, he could not
immediately reconcile that philosophy which destroys all distinctions
between right and wrong: for, although his religious education had been
so little attended to, still that little furnished many
stumbling-blocks, which for a long time could not be got over; and he
could not easily be brought to think that debauching the wife, or
seducing the daughter, of a friend or benefactor, were not crimes. In
maintaining these opinions, his arguments were often troublesome and
embarrassing to the learned sceptic, who would either artfully evade the
question, or decline the argument by some dogmatical assertion, which,
if it did not convince, at least always silenced his young opponent.

Encircled by temptation in every form of allurement, seduced by pleasure
the most bewitching, and blinded by passions at all times strong, but
now more highly still inflamed by the sophistry and example of his vile
associate, he, in a fatal moment of precipitate impulse, destroyed the
peace of one who had treated him with the tenderness of a son,
committing, it must with pain be confessed, the most deadly injury that
human friendship can suffer, or hellish wickedness inflict—the violation
of the marriage bed.

Thus was the noble faculty of reason disgracefully sacrificed on the
polluted altar of sensuality. In a few hours, however, reflection
returned, and conscience began to resume her empire, and remorse to
sting his soul. He would have made the only reparation in his power by a
speedy retreat; for he could not, as he declared, again look on the
friend whom he had so injured, without the danger of annihilation. His
own words are forcibly expressive:

“The sense of this crime,” he says, “was twisted round my heart like a
serpent of hell, and the recollection still freezes my soul. The
enormity of my guilt was magnified by the unexampled hospitality and
friendship I experienced from them both. Their confidence was unlimited,
and I repaid it with base ingratitude. For weeks afterwards an idea
haunted me, that the first time the husband’s eye met mine, the wrath of
God would consume me from the face of the earth. I would have fled from
the fatal spot, as from a devouring pestilence; but I foolishly allowed
myself to be overruled by W., who has been the murderer of every soul
that had the misfortune to fall in his way. This is not the language of
invective, nor do I think it uncharitable, for his crimes are of so deep
a dye as to put all power of exaggeration at defiance. Most men
endeavour to frame some excuse for their errors, but even this negative
virtue W. never arrived at: he had no other motive for his villainy,
than the malignant pleasure of seeing misery widely diffused.”

Upwards of a month had elapsed before this execrable old monster W.
could give up a pursuit almost as infamous, though not quite so
destructive in its effects, as that which scaled the debasement of his
pupil, and the amiable family in which they had both been entertained
for nearly three months. Several circumstances had occurred to render
any longer stay in Paris exceedingly irksome, and he prudently suggested
to his pupil the propriety of visiting Bourdeaux, whither they retired
somewhat abruptly.

On their arrival in that city, they found that letters of introduction,
which they expected from England, had not arrived: this they thought
would occasion no great inconvenience, as W. was quite at home here,
having formerly spent some years amongst the learned and the dissolute,
to whom he now repaired: but, to his disappointment, some of them were
dead, and many of the rest dispersed in various parts of the world. The
travellers were therefore obliged to seek that accommodation at a hotel,
which ill-requited hospitality had so readily afforded them in Paris.

The innkeeper had a young niece of interesting appearance, who was on
the eve of being married to a man whom she tenderly loved. Returning
from the house of God, where she had been attending divine worship, and
where she had received the holy sacrament, the unsuspecting girl in a
luckless moment fell under the basilisk glance of this veteran in
iniquity, who immediately destined her for destruction. Flushed with the
greatness of his project, _so worthy of a philosopher_, he hastened to
his less hardened companion, and unfolded the grand scheme with as much
self-exultation as if he had discovered a new planet. The generous mind
of his pupil, once noble and pure, was not yet sufficiently corrupted to
hear the diabolical disclosure without indignation. He declared that the
vengeance of a guilty conscience still rankled in his heart; for,
although he had used every effort to stifle or dispel the painful
remembrance of his crimes in Paris, he was tormented continually. He
applied the golden rule of “doing to others as he would that others
should do unto him,” which for the present put an end to the discussion.

Meanwhile the expected letters from England had arrived, which procured
them admission into the higher walks of life, and apparently diverted
their attention from meaner objects: but this was not the case. W. was
inflexibly bent on robbing the innocent girl of what could not enrich
him, yet would leave her “_poor indeed_.” An unforeseen accident
favoured his purpose. The intended husband was taken dangerously ill;
and W., who had studied medicine not only as an amusement but also as an
accomplishment, was induced, by motives of pure humanity of course, to
give his opinion in consultation with other physicians. He used often to
call at the Inn to console the weeping bride elect, and by enumerating
the favourable changes in her lover’s complaint he succeeded in securing
to himself her friendship and gratitude. Sleepless nights and anxiety of
mind brought on an affection of the eyes, for which, in a friendly way,
he gave her a prescription, and most kindly offered his further
services. She got better; but her general health declined, and he
recommended her removal to some convenient cottage in the outskirts of
the city, where she might have the benefit of country air, and the
society of her friends.

This was the master-stroke of his plot. The proud virtue of his pupil
was now greatly subdued; but, to fit him for his infernal purpose with
double certainty, W. engaged him in a party of pleasure, from which he
took care he should not return sober, and, after inflaming his lustful
passions, introduced him to the chamber of his unconscious victim. Thus
was accomplished the ruin of a virtuous girl prepared for destruction by
the _medicinal_ agency of this broker in turpitude.

During the perpetration of this outrage, the unhappy sufferer was in a
state of total insensibility; but when the effects of the drugs that had
been given to her began to subside, and returning day exposed her
situation, in the arms of a man whom she had never before seen, her
heart died within her. The involuntary instrument of her undoing
endeavoured to restore her; but his efforts proving ineffectual, he
dispatched a messenger for W., who on his arrival administered some
stimulus, and carried his pupil to a _cock-fight_. They both returned in
the evening, for the purpose, it would appear, of repeating the scene of
the former night. They found the wretched girl recovered from her swoon,
it is true; but they also found that her reason had forsaken the
polluted tenement: a state of the most deplorable idiocy had supervened!

Here the journal is abruptly broken off, and in no part of it is the
infamous W. again mentioned, except in a note on a slip of paper written
in red ink and affixed with wafers to the last leaf, which may best,
perhaps, be inserted here.

“The conduct of W., from the unfortunate day I quitted England with him,
was such as I could not have expected from a fiend of hell. His breath
was contagious, and he never opened his mouth but to wither and
consume.”

How soon after this base transaction the travellers separated, I have no
means of ascertaining; but it is certain they did not leave Bourdeaux
together; for, about three weeks afterwards, W. returned to England, and
his unfortunate pupil embarked for Marseilles, where he arrived with
satisfaction after a short voyage. His time at this place appears to
have been spent more rationally and usefully than it had hitherto been
in France. His remarks on the state of literature and science, together
with the “empty-headed, would-be philosophers,” as he terms them, of
Marseilles, are strikingly demonstrative of the force of his mind when
directed to any worthy pursuit. After a stay of about three weeks, (he
is seldom minute in dates,) he embarked for Toulon, where he staid ten
days, and made a drawing of the harbour and fortifications, unobserved
by any of the officers or soldiers by whom he was always attended.

An English ship about to sail for Naples accommodated him with a
passage, for which, he observes, the Master would not accept of any
recompense. His own words are significantly expressive on this occasion:
“This rude but worthy son of Neptune possessed the inestimable treasure
of a truly honest English heart; insensible of personal danger even to
hardihood, but feelingly alive to another’s woe; often bestowing a
generous tear, the tribute of his manly heart, on affliction’s monument.
In the breast of this unlettered man there was moral virtue enough to
outweigh all I ever met in France put together.”

His voyage to Naples was tedious, and fraught with disaster. He says,
“We had a fine view of Genoa and Leghorn, the weather being beautifully
fine; the sky serene and cloudless, water perfectly smooth, and scarcely
any wind. The prospect at midnight was inexpressibly sublime. The
majesty of the moon slowly emerging from the deep, its diameter to
appearance immensely increased; the peculiar brilliancy of the stars,
together with awful flashes of lightning, and meteors shooting in every
direction, exhibited a scene exquisitely grand.” The day following he
has this remark, “The face of nature is changed, and the hand of God is
now stretched out to punish my guilt.”

His fears of an approaching storm must have been unfounded; for the next
day he gives an animated description of the appearance of Genoa, and the
people who crowded to the beach to see the ship as she passed slowly
within a league of the shore. The calms and westerly currents, which for
many months in the year prevail on that coast, prevented them from
making any progress for some days longer, when a storm visited them in
reality. His fearful conscience represents every adversity as the finger
of Providence pointed against him.

On the 9th day after leaving Toulon he says, “My evil destiny still
pursues me. The enchanting beauty in which nature smiled so lately, is
now changed to the alarming appearance of offended Heaven. Lowering
clouds gathering from every point threaten an awful crisis to both fear
and hope.

“The wind increasing to a hurricane, drives the ship with impetuosity
irresistible; and the dreadful heaving of the sea, as the watery
mountains recede from their convulsed pursuers, leaves a tremendous
chasm resembling the abrupt valleys interposed between highest alpine
summits, which speedily meeting in all the agitation of confused
conflict portend immediate destruction.

“The mariners, dismayed, can no longer exert themselves for the safety
of the crazy vessel; a wave has just broken over her and washed away two
of them, who, but a moment before, were blaspheming the sacred name of
their Maker. Alas! alas! who dares stand in his dread presence!

“An awful crash, accompanied by faint cries ‘She is sinking’, has just
reached my ear, and thundered on my soul. O God! how badly prepared!—A
few minutes explained the disaster. A body of electric fluid struck the
foremast, and shattered it into pieces, at the same moment depriving one
of the sailors of life, and bruising two others most deplorably. The
flash of lightning was so painfully vivid as to deprive most of us of
vision for several seconds: but, to a man stationed on the bowsprit to
look out ahead, it disclosed an object quite appalling—a rock towards
which the ship was driving with fatal rapidity. A frantic shriek
communicated the terrific fact.

“Despair seized on every heart, for the helm had ceased to produce its
wonted power in directing the ship’s course. The Master, mistaking our
situation, could not be persuaded of the danger until another immense
sheet of lightning again exposed the dreadful evil. The helm was moved,
and endeavours made to turn a remnant of sail which had not been blown
away. A ray of hope appeared for a moment to illumine the drooping
hearts of the seamen by the cry ‘_She goes off_’, which was eagerly
caught and repeated by all.

“The lightning now becoming more vivid and frequent, contrasted with the
intense darkness of the night,—the roaring of the wind,—the foamy
rushing of the sea,—the noise of the ropes, and the indistinct cries of
the despairing mariners, together with reiterated peals of thunder
rolling over our heads for an amazing length of time and ending in a
tremendous crash, gave existence to the most frightful picture that
human imagination is capable of painting, or perhaps that human nature
could sustain.

“Fear, when guilt is the cause, is indeed shocking. My apprehensions of
danger may magnify the evils by which I am likely soon to be
overwhelmed. I have tried to pray, ‘but the Lord laughed at my
calamity.’ I have tried to meet death with philosophic composure; but,
shaken by the angry voice of an avenging God, and involved in chaos,
what sinner can affect to be unmoved?

“Another wave of vast magnitude has broken over the vessel, which I
thought had actually sunk her never to rise again;—she was certainly a
long while ingulfed, and, as I thought, completely upset. The undaunted
Master endeavoured to cheer us with a hope that, in the event of the
vessel foundering, our lives might be saved by the boat; but in the last
afflicting crush that resource was dashed to atoms, and the mainmast
broken in two. The lightning serves to unveil that wretchedness which
darkness had so kindly concealed, and the sight is absolutely
indescribable:—every thing floating about and dashing in furious
confusion. When the lightning bursts upon our view, it appears to rend
the heavens, leaving in its stead a wide gaping gulf of boundless and
unutterable gloom.

“The long-wished-for day begins at length to appear, and the horrible
spectacle it unfolds defies all attempt at description. The fury of the
wind is unabated; by its force alone, large bodies of the waves are torn
off, and driven over the vessel like frightful cataracts, and in smaller
quantities resembling a violent shower of snow, so completely
obstructing vision, as to render it impossible to see any object
distinctly at two yards distance.

“Towards 9 o’clock, the storm began to abate, and a moment’s pause was
given to contemplate the wreck. It was now discovered that when the
mainmast broke and fell on the deck, it bruised the intrepid Master to
death. The sight of the body of this amiable man will have a place in my
recollection for ever. The mast having fallen on his head, shattered the
skull, several pieces of which were driven into the deck so firmly that
they could not be removed; and several portions of his brain and hair
were still sticking to the wood!

“Within a few feet of this fatal spot, the mangled remains of him who
had been destroyed by lightning were rolling about by the violent motion
of the vessel, and so dreadfully bruised that not a feature of the human
being could be traced. His two unfortunate companions, who were struck
at the same time, being unable to shift for themselves, were discovered
drowned; the right side and thigh of one of them being literally burned
to a cinder.”

In the foregoing narrative, the stinging reproaches of a guilty
conscience appear to have been keenly felt, as is manfully acknowledged
as well as beautifully expressed. I shall not trespass on the reader’s
attention with a further detail of the miseries of this shipwreck. By
means of a fishing-boat my friend landed at Leghorn, where he suffered
from an attack of inflammation of the lungs, which again put his life in
danger. Being little satisfied either with his attendant physicians or
visitors, he was induced to embark in a small coasting vessel for
Naples.

Of his adventures in this gay city the journal makes but scanty mention,
though he seems to have entered freely into the dissipation of that
enervated and most licentious court, and was twice engaged in duels.
After four or five months spent or rather killed in this manner, his
golden dreams and extravagancies were interrupted by the arrival of a
special messenger with directions from his father to return forthwith;
but without assigning any reason for an order so unexpected and
peremptory: with the summons, however, he cheerfully complied, and in a
few days afterwards embarked for England.

The winds were propitious, and the ship had a speedy passage; but the
pleasure he had promised himself in visiting his native shores was
greatly alloyed by the infirm state of health in which he found an uncle
whom he affectionately esteemed, and by whom he had been adopted in
early life. Having no family, this venerable old gentleman had promised
from the beginning to make F. his heir, which pledge he was now desirous
of redeeming. The regard he bore him was further shown by a desire to
see him settled in the world before he himself should leave it.

There lived in the neighbourhood for upwards of forty years an old
gentleman of exemplary piety and benevolence, who had two daughters,
both highly accomplished. Brought up and educated in their father’s
house, the uncle of F. was acquainted with their dispositions and
behaviour from infancy, and was therefore well convinced that they both
possessed every excellent quality that could contribute to a husband’s
happiness, or ensure a blessing on single life.

With one of these it was his ardent wish to have his nephew united, and
he candidly communicated to him the affair; but at the same time he
assured him, that although this union would greatly tend to smooth his
path to the grave, yet would he impose no restraint on his inclination:
let his decision be what it might, no change should be made in his will.
My friend was deeply penetrated with this noble behaviour of his uncle,
and declared that it should be his study to prove himself not
undeserving such disinterested friendship; and if, on further
acquaintance, he did not find it utterly impossible to bestow his
affections on either of the ladies, he would endeavour to make himself
agreeable to one of them.

The irregularities which F. had committed abroad had reached the ears of
his parents, and given them many hours of sorrow. As their love for him
was unbounded, their fears lest his happiness might be shipwrecked
amongst the dangerous quicksands of temptation on the one hand, and
indulgence in vicious passions on the other, were painfully increased;
and they zealously exerted themselves in all their influence to promote
the views of his dying uncle.

The behaviour of their son left them no cause now for uneasiness. He had
conversed several times with each of the ladies, and declared himself
much pleased with them both; but his partiality appeared to predominate
in favour of the elder. His friends constantly importuned him to
expedite the arrangements necessary for the completion of their
happiness: to these entreaties he would answer, that however anxious he
felt to identify their wishes with his own happiness, yet while his
uncle continued in so doubtful a state, he would not make that darkness
which he was persuaded the loss of so good a friend would long fix on
his mind, more visible by unseasonably lighting the torch of Hymen. This
answer, while it demonstrated his growing attachment for the young lady,
and the grateful respect he had for his uncle, was highly pleasing to
all parties.

Meanwhile his time was spent either in friendly visits to the young
ladies, or in attendance on his uncle, whose health declined so fast
that none of his friends any longer entertained a hope, and in a few
days he paid the awful debt of nature. On this occasion F. was a sincere
mourner: indeed his grief was often extravagant. To divert his mind, and
to dispel that darkness which he himself had predicted, a journey to
London was recommended, which he consented to with some reluctance.

Under the influence of grief, that elasticity of mind and naturally
complaisant manner for which he was ever distinguished, entirely forsook
him. Irritable, petulant, dissatisfied with himself and every thing
around him, he suddenly left the country without giving any notice to
his parents, or to her whom it was thought his own voluntary choice had
determined to be the partner of his joys and sorrows.

Three weeks had already elapsed, and all inquiries to discover his
retreat proved unsuccessful. At length he addressed a letter to his
mother, in which was inclosed another to his bride-elect, informing them
of his being in London, and in somewhat better health and spirits than
when he left the country; and offering some apology for his conduct.
Both his letters were answered by the ladies, and each had questions to
ask, which in their turn they requested to have answered: but a
fortnight was suffered to pass before he could find time or inclination
to reply; and when he did, his letters were evasive and unsatisfactory.

His father wrote to him and urged the performance of the promise he had
made to his uncle, which he assured him was registered in heaven, and
was in effect a solemn oath: he finally enjoined him to return to the
country. But his condition was considerably altered since his father’s
last mandate reached him at Naples; the estate left him by his uncle was
more than sufficient to meet the wants of prodigality.

No longer dependent on his father’s bounty, which heretofore had been
liberal even to profusion, he now ventured to treat him with less
ceremony, and determined to remain in town. His father’s health had long
been imperceptibly declining; and this act of unseasonable and
unaccountable ingratitude affected him greatly, under the conviction
that self interest, devoid of affection, had hitherto directed the
obedience which had been manifested by his son.

The mind of F. had now shaken off all the gloom and sadness occasioned
by his uncle’s death. He had corresponded very regularly for some months
with the young lady to whom it was expected he would soon be united, and
his letters of late were soothing and affectionate. She received one
from him, stating that the death of a friend in Ireland would make his
presence there indispensable; that he would return in three weeks or a
month at most, and then “he hoped she would crown all his wishes, and
make him happy.”

It is truly painful to contemplate the deep villainy this letter was
intended to conceal. Instead of visiting Ireland, as mentioned in his
letter, he allured an unthinking creature, “not quite fourteen,” the
daughter of a respectable tradesman in London, to accompany him to
Scotland, under a solemn promise that he would marry her there. He had
calculated that three weeks would be sufficient to glut his savage
appetite, when the credulous victim of his passion was to be disposed of
to any of his brutal companions, or in any other way that he could most
conveniently get rid of her.

When he disclosed his real purpose, she fell into a state that
occasioned him some apprehension. She fainted away, but of this he
thought little; and, having profited by experience, he was able to act
the part which the infamous W. had performed for him in Bourdeaux:
accordingly stimulants were speedily procured and administered. On
recovering, he tried to cajole her, but his sophistry effected nothing.
Frantic with disappointment, and goaded by despair, her fury became
ungovernable, which he allowed to rage uncontrolled; tritely remarking,
Whatever is violent cannot last long. He was not in this mistaken, for
she fell senseless at his feet, and blood foamed from her mouth.

It was now deemed prudent to call in a professed practitioner, who on
his arrival pronounced her dying from the rupture of a large
blood-vessel of the lungs. This intelligence startled F. not a little.
His humanity was not entirely dead; besides, he was by no means
ambitious of being thought her murderer. He inquired eagerly whether any
thing could be done; to which he was answered in the negative.

In this state of alarm he evinced more presence of mind as well as sound
therapeutical knowledge than the regular practitioner; for, the medical
man having given her over, F. begged of him to open a vein as a _dernier
ressource_, which it appears the other never thought of, as the only
means by which her life could be prolonged. Finding that the cure would
be tedious, or rather that she was likely to linger long, he placed her
in lodgings, and provided a more intelligent medical attendant. He was
prevailed on by her tears and entreaties to remain with her six weeks,
which was double the time he had at first proposed.

Arriving at his lodgings in town, he received intelligence he had not at
all expected, and which he was ill prepared to bear. The very day he
left London a messenger arrived to inform him, that his father was
dying, and desired his immediate attendance. The servants had been
instructed to inform all inquirers that their master had gone to
Ireland. Day after day messengers arrived, and still the same answer was
given. His afflicted mother, suspecting some cheat, determined to travel
to London herself, to awaken the slumbering soul of her undutiful son:
to her also the same answer was returned; nor could she obtain any hint
or clue that might enable her to discover his retreat; she was
convinced, however, that he had not gone to Ireland. Although fatigued
and almost exhausted by the journey, she could not be persuaded to take
any refreshments in town, but hastened back to console her dying
husband.

Uncertain what part of Scotland he should visit, and what stay he might
make at each place, he had directed his confidential servant not to send
any letters after him. A large packet had accumulated in his absence,
which the servant put into his hand at the time he communicated the
above unwelcome intelligence. Glancing over the letters, his attention
was arrested by one in deep mourning, in the hand-writing of his mother;
he guessed the rest. It contained an account of his father’s death; but
shuddering at the apprehension of its contents, he could not muster
resolution sufficient to break the seal.

His carriage was still at the door,—he threw himself in, and ordered the
coachman to drive to the country; but the horses were fatigued, and
fresh ones must be procured. To fill up the awful interval occasioned by
this delay, he again looked over the packet of letters, and found three
from his affianced bride. He opened and read one, which was filled with
sweet murmurs and gentle upbraidings for his increased delay; the other
was to the same effect; but the third was serious and important. It
informed him of the death of her father, who, she said, “expired in an
instant, without a moment’s warning.”

This news he declared thrust into his bosom like a dagger; and, to make
his cup of misery overflow, the certainty of his own father’s death,
with the reproaches of his last breath which he expected, only were
wanting: his mother’s letter would have removed all doubt on this
subject, and no man was more impatient of suspense, yet he durst not
venture on the perusal; every time he took it up his heart misgave him,
and his soul seemed to die away.

In this most awful uncertainty, with the letter in his hand, he
continued till he arrived at his father’s gate. From a servant who came
to open the carriage he learned the fatal tidings, that his father had
been buried several days, and that his mother was now exceedingly ill.
This was too much for endurance,—the dreaded letter fell from his
paralysed hand, and he sunk down overwhelmed by racking remorse. The
servants conveyed him to his chamber, where he lay some hours in a state
of stupor, which was succeeded by a fever, or some disease that entirely
deprived him of sense for upwards of three weeks. The journal, however,
was discontinued for as many months.

The following is the first paragraph written after his recovery. “My
dear mother and the angelic E. visited me this morning, and neither of
them upbraided me! Their forgiveness and pity were in effect refined
cruelty. I was prepared to hear their keenest reproach,—but their
kindness took me by surprise, and wounded me to the soul. My mother
wished to amuse me and attempted to be gay, while tears insensibly
rolled down her cheeks. She said I must now look upon E. as my own, for
her father had bequeathed her to me, and appointed me sole executor of
his will. She was going to say something of a last wish of my father’s,
when she fainted away.

“Miserable, infatuated wretch that I am! not all the guilty pleasures of
a thousand years could compensate for the torture my soul endured at
that moment.—Sainted father! methinks I hear thee in the clouds
thundering thy abhorrence of my ungrateful and impious neglect, and
threatening me with the vengeance of indignant Heaven. With what crimes
am I not debased?—Innocence murdered—human happiness wantonly sacrificed
in every spot I could meet with it—my family dishonoured and my life
defiled by every species of hellish debauchery—the end of my being
perverted—the intention of my Creator defeated by my own monstrous
deeds—Alas! alas! I see nothing but an interminable gulf before me—God
frowning from above—and the jaws of death and hell extended wide, ready
to receive me—and close upon me for ever!”

Who, after reading this soliloquy, would expect to find the author of it
again resuming those vicious practices which had occasioned him such
intense misery? How humiliating to a proud but virtuous mind is the
contemplation of human nature and reason so degraded and debased!

Notwithstanding his remorse and apparent repentance, which there is
every reason to believe were sincere at the time, poor unhappy F. had
not resolution to relinquish his licentious mode of life; not, he said,
that it afforded him any pleasure, but because the presence of virtue
confused, and in his own imagination reproached him. The remembrance of
earlier days, when his growing accomplishments not only put forth the
tender buds of hope, but exhibited fair flowers approaching fast to
perfection—the joy of his family, and the admiration of his friends—now
withered and decayed, his heart became callous, and he ingloriously
yielded to the empire of sin and the slavery of passion without a
struggle. Brooding over a thousand evils real and imaginary, his mind
assumed the darkest gloom, and gradually sunk into savage melancholy.

Accompanied by his mother, the “angelic E.,” as he used to call that
young lady, visited him often, for he had requested her to consider
herself his betrothed wife. They tried various methods to engage his
mind in some useful or even amusing pursuit, but he could endure nothing
that did not present novelty at every instant. The visits of the ladies
at length became irksome to him; and determining to rid himself of their
importunity, he one morning bade them carelessly farewell, and set out
for London.

Here he found that some of his old associates had been obliged, from
different causes, to decamp; but some he still found hovering round
those infamous sinks of lust and misery to which men of pleasure resort
to kill time and escape from themselves: to those pests of society, and
those haunts of dissipation, he now attached himself.

The shock he had sustained by his father’s death had greatly impaired
his health, and the mode of life he now absurdly made choice of was
rapidly destroying his constitution. After several months passed in the
senseless bustle, and deeply engaged in the _important nothings_ which
occupy so much of a rake’s time, he applied to me with a mind and body
both wofully diseased.

I must here beg to obtrude myself, not through any motive of personal
vanity, but an anxious desire faithfully to depict the errors that
caused the ruin of my once excellent and happy friend. Knowing the
expectations he had raised, and the engagements he was under to the lady
whom his uncle had recommended, I inquired whether he had made any
definitive arrangements: to this he replied, “My engagements with her
and every other woman will last while I can feel myself happy in their
society, and not an hour longer.” He freely acknowledged, that his mind
was made up never to marry, but that he neither could nor would
relinquish E. I expostulated with him seriously on the enormity of
seducing any virtuous woman; but any injury done to E. would in my
opinion be the most heinous crime he could commit, and one which, I was
convinced, God would never pardon.

My arguments produced very little effect; for he gravely replied, “I
have long been moving in a magic circle, and however full the poisoned
cup might have been which the enchantress Pleasure offered, I always
drank to the bottom. My soul is dead, and what have I now to fear?” Our
acquaintance had been of some standing, and my friendship for him was
sincere and disinterested. During the period of his cure I generally
conversed with him every day on the cruelty of his design, and the
unqualified execration with which the world would load the author of
such wanton barbarity; but nothing could turn him from his stern and
cruel purpose. “The die,” he said, “is cast;” and more than once did he
declare that, should it cost him an eternity of perdition, E. must and
should be his on his own terms.

While confined to his house by ill health, he regularly corresponded
with the young lady through his mother, both whom it was equally his
wish to deceive. His health being restored, he disclosed to me his deep
plan for the destruction of E., whose confidence in him was unlimited;
and as the assistance of a confidential friend would be indispensable,
he now implored my good offices. I assured him that I was very ready to
do him any _good_ in my power, and that I would now give a proof of my
friendship by laying the whole matter before his mother and E. that very
evening; and this pledge I carefully redeemed.

In my letter to his mother, the scheme he had formed to entrap the
innocent and confiding E. was fully developed, and they were of course
confounded and ashamed at its baseness. His plan was, to invite them
both to town, having furnished a house fit for their reception, where,
under his own roof, under the protecting eye of his amiable mother, the
laws of hospitality, the ties of heaven, and the sacred commands of God,
were to be violated and profaned. Unwilling to believe, yet hardly
knowing how to doubt my statement, they were consulting what step was
most proper to be taken, when they received a letter from F., couched in
the most dutiful and affectionate terms, inviting them both to town.
This tended to confirm their suspicions, and they decided on inclosing
to him my letter, with a request that he would explain its meaning.

On this occasion his self-possession entirely forsook him. He called on
me with the letter, and used the most unjustifiable language. Led away
by the fury of disappointed passion, he would not listen to reason; his
behaviour became indecently insulting, and I determined on withdrawing
my friendship, and discontinuing his acquaintance. Almost immediately
after this, professional avocations in the service of my country called
me out of England, and I lost sight of him for upwards of four years.

The following remarks, which I think were written about the same time,
stand in his journal: “Never was meanness equal to mine—never was
contempt expressed with more poignant insult. This is the damning
consequence of unlawful pleasure.—Pleasure do I call it?—It is pain
equal to the severest torture of hell. How intolerably slavish are the
galling chains with which sin binds her hopeless victims!”

Amid the multitude of vices by which his life was so foully stained, and
his heart so deplorably corrupted, still there were some traits in his
character that strongly demonstrated original nobleness of mind. When
brutal passion was not to be gratified, he was feelingly alive to the
tale of sorrow, and his purse was ever open to relieve the distressed,
and administer comfort to the afflicted. His style of living was
proportioned to his ample fortune, and in money matters he was always
open, liberal, and generous, sometimes so even to profuse extravagance.
But his mind, long neglected and vitiated, was now incapable of
entertaining a single virtue, or even a shattered remnant of
self-dignity. His disposition became so entirely changed, that the
original intention of nature appears to have been inverted. That
generosity which formerly excited admiration, gave place to the most
niggardly and despicable turn of mind, so that he could not bear the
idea of parting with money even to discharge his lawful debts.

Those ephemeral friends to whom crime only had attached him, now treated
him with coolness, and in many instances with the most cutting contempt.
Despised by all his former acquaintances, both sober and dissipated, he
exhibited the melancholy picture of a man possessing an excellent
understanding, a mind amply stored with elegant and useful knowledge,
and a princely fortune, isolated in the world, and scornfully driven, by
the common consent of mankind, from that society of which, had he made a
right use of his natural endowments, he would have been a distinguished
ornament.

Meanness, marked by dishonesty, was strongly exemplified in his refusing
to honour a bill which the unhappy girl he left in Scotland, as he
supposed on a death-bed, had drawn to discharge the expense of the
lodgings he had procured for her. The physician’s bill, too, he refused
to discharge. The poor forsaken creature wrote to him, describing her
situation in terms that ought to have moved the most obdurate heart; but
his, now completely imbruted, was dead to the description of her misery,
and deaf to her entreaties. She wrote again, but he would not pay the
postage of her letter. The family in which he had placed her, trusting
to the debt thus incurred for the payment of their rent, which they
could not in any other way make up, were turned out of doors, and with
them the wretched patient, now in the last stage of consumption, without
a penny to procure a morsel of bread.

In this deplorable condition, with no shelter but the canopy of heaven,
she must have perished, had not the compassion of a poor waggoner been
moved and extended to her. Through the means of this humble and humane
individual she was enabled to reach London, where languid and sinking
she sought the abode of her father, once her happy home, the scene of
youthful innocence and joy. But, alas! what a sad change!—No home was
there. Her father’s dwelling-house was now a prison! After her elopement
he used every possible endeavour to find her out, by which means he
incurred expenses, neglected his business, and ultimately became
insolvent. The benevolent waggoner did not, however, forsake her: he
procured her admission into an hospital, where, within a week, she
yielded her last breath.

Despised and detested by all who knew him, F.’s stay in London grew
every day more irksome, and he seriously meditated a return to the
country, where he could gratify his new grovelling passion for saving
money, now indeed his ruling one, though a residence there he knew would
compel him occasionally to encounter the reproaches of his amiable
mother; and the deadly injury intended for E. made him by no means
anxious to come under her indignant glance.

The ancestors of F. had inhabited an elegant mansion for time
immemorial, and the eminent virtues by which their lives were
distinguished rendered it venerable. This mansion had fallen to him on
his uncle’s decease, and thither he determined to repair, and make it
his residence in a manner corresponding with the late change in his
disposition. He therefore made up his mind to turn hermit, and
accordingly disposed of his horses, equipages, and entire establishment;
returned to the country, and shut himself up in complete seclusion.

The _honour_ of disgracing the family name, hitherto unsullied, and of
polluting this venerable mansion, where his ancestors had long
maintained an untainted reputation, was reserved for this their
parsimonious representative; nor was he long in a state of inactivity,
notwithstanding his mode of life was so different from the splendid
hospitality which formerly rendered this residence celebrated.

In a village at a short distance lived the widow of a medical gentleman,
with three daughters, the eldest of whom was “not quite twenty.” This
interesting family managed to live genteelly and comfortably on a small
annuity, until the arrival of F., whose pestilential influence proved as
destructive, and almost as widely diffused, as the fabulous accounts of
_privileged_ travellers represent that of the Upas tree.

It would be horrible and inexpressibly painful to describe the arts he
used to ensnare these innocent, industrious and unsuspecting females. In
somewhat less than thirteen months he plunged them into guilt and
misery, and kept them all living in his house at the same time! His next
triumph was over the daughter of a clergyman, for whom he succeeded in
procuring a living in the neighbourhood, to enable him the more easily
to execute his infamous designs against innocence and peace.

The facility with which the ruin of these four young women was
accomplished, encouraged him to make another attack on the much injured
E., an attempt which must certainly be considered as a master-piece of
impudence and hardened villainy, inasmuch as he endeavoured to make his
mother an efficient agent in the destruction of her beloved and amiable
young friend. He wrote a long letter to his mother, expressing penitence
and remorse for his former behaviour to E., with an anxious desire to
make all the reparation he could; and finally, that, if she could
forgive him, he was ready to marry her when and where she pleased.

The poor mother, thinking him sincere, was very desirous of taking him
at his word, as she believed it the only chance that was likely to offer
for reclaiming him. She was persuaded in her own mind that his
disposition was originally good, and if his affections could ever be
fixed, she would fain think that he was capable of making any woman
happy; and accordingly her best offices were employed with E. in his
behalf. On the first introduction of the subject, the amiable girl
shuddered involuntarily, as if she had unexpectedly been met by some
furious beast of prey, which she apprehended would instantly destroy
her; and although she had every desire to oblige the mother of F., she
candidly declared that it was utterly impossible for her ever to look
upon him again with favour.

The mother did not, however, despair that she would be made to relent by
time and assiduity. But, while this negotiation was going on, F.’s
attention was attracted by the wife of an industrious young man who
rented a farm on his estate. They had been married only a few months,
and F. describes the wife in the following glowing terms: “She was
lovely as an angel, a perfect model of exquisite beauty, of unspotted
purity, young and modest.” But virtues like these had lost all
influence, unless to stimulate his guilty and savage appetite: to every
present incitement E. herself was now postponed. Contrary to his
expectations, her virtue was not to be easily shaken; but every repulse
and difficulty he experienced only tended to stimulate him to greater
exertions.

His thirst for money had now considerably abated, and he was fast
emerging from that obscure solitude in which he had remained upwards of
three years. His establishment was splendidly increased, his marriage
with E. was seriously talked of, and his mother had prevailed on her to
consent to see him; but, before the day fixed on for the interview had
arrived, he suddenly disappeared, and it was soon discovered that the
farmer’s wife was missing also. He had artfully managed to get the
farmer into his power, by means of a pecuniary accommodation which he
knew it would be impossible for him to discharge: he wrote an infamous
letter soon after to the deluded man, desiring him not to be uneasy
about the money, and scarcely noticing the deadly wound he had inflicted
by seducing the object of his affections,—the partner of his cares,—the
friend of his bosom.

In a few months he returned with her, and kept her in his house, _a fine
lady_, for nearly a year. Her agreeable person and artless manner had
hitherto kept alive in his bosom something like affection; but still,
like every other with whom he conversed, she was ultimately doomed to
experience his fickleness and neglect. He sent for the afflicted
husband, and told him with unblushing effrontery, that he must take her
back, as he himself was about to quit the country, and could no longer
_protect_ her. The unhappy man was about to remonstrate on the hardship
of his case, when he was effectually silenced by the other blustering
out, “You shall obey my directions, or rot in gaol.” He was forced to
comply, and take to his cheerless home a contaminated wretch, whom he
must ever behold with lacerated and abhorrent feelings.

Fortunately for those who were yet uncorrupted, this was the last
exploit of F. in the neighbourhood to which he was indebted for his
birth, and where, instead of bringing misery and ruin into the peaceful
cottage, his rank, property, and influence, ought to have constituted
him the legitimate local guardian of its general happiness, morality,
and virtue. With frigid indifference he forsook all those whom he had
debased by making them subservient to his lustful appetite, and set out
for London in quest of new adventures.

In this great metropolis he instituted and organized a system of infamy
and abomination for which it would not be easy to find an appropriate
appellation: it was, in fact, a kind of repository for vice and crime,
where the most odious scenes that could disgrace human nature were
continually acting. Not less than five _procurers_, or agents, were
employed; and the aggregate of human happiness slaughtered in this
temple of hell is truly astonishing, and would hardly be believed. The
concern became too extensive to be conducted by a single manager, and F.
yielded to the pressing solicitations of an all-accomplished young
gentleman to admit him as a partner. The expenses and pleasures were to
be mutually shared between them, and their acquaintance became matured
into as close a friendship as vice is capable of admitting.

The junior partner had four sisters in the bloom of life, to whom he
introduced F., who, after several visits, expressed his partiality for
the third, and begged permission to pay his addresses in an _honourable_
way of course. His large fortune was a sufficient inducement for
granting his request, and in somewhat less than five months he prevailed
on her to elope with him to France. Her brother, who had no knowledge of
the world, except what is to be acquired at a theatre, a gambling-house,
or a sink of vice, would not at first believe that his “_dear friend_”
F. could meditate any mischief against his family, much less the deadly
injury that was apprehended by the more sober and experienced part of
his relations. He said F. was an eccentric dog, fond of frolic, and he
had no doubt was gone to Gretna Green, whence he would return with his
sister, and marry her according to the established English custom. The
mother of the young lady was by no means of this opinion, and urged her
son to make further inquiries; which he did, and was soon convinced that
he had overrated his “dear friend’s” generosity.

He lost no time in following the fugitives to France, and after a few
days’ search found them in Paris. His first inquiry was, whether they
had got married? To which being answered in the negative, he insisted on
having that ceremony performed without delay. His dictatorial manner was
exceedingly offensive to F., who declared the visit both unseasonable
and impertinent, and, without further ceremony, ordered his quondam
partner out of the house.

A duel the following morning was the consequence of this interview, and
both were wounded. F. was from the first moment sensible that his wound
was mortal, and, after lingering nearly fifteen months, the apprehension
was confirmed by his death. During his confinement, remorse for his past
crimes appears to have seized and constantly agitated him, till he
became completely miserable, and life grew so insupportable to him, that
it forced him more than once to meditate self-destruction.

The tradesman, whose daughter he had seduced and abandoned in Scotland,
hearing of his situation, waited on him, and related to him the account
of her sufferings and death, as stated before. The contrition of F. for
the injury he had done the daughter, was exemplified by his conduct to
her father, whom he raised above the power of want for the remainder of
his life. He employed several persons to search for all the unhappy
women whose innocence and peace of mind he had destroyed; and every one
he discovered of that number had her sufferings alleviated, as far as
pecuniary settlements were capable of soothing her sorrow. But this he
considered very insufficient reparation, and his unhappiness till the
last moment of his life was extreme.

His concluding paragraph is a terrible picture of his feelings. He says,
“My life has been pernicious to my fellow creatures, and a foul blot on
the characteristic purity of my family. Would to God, that by my death I
could make some reparation to society!—but all is now nearly over.—What
do I say?—To me, alas! O alas! all is only beginning.—My soul is
parched, burnt, and consumed.—O God! save me from eternal death—for the
sake and merits of thy beloved son Jesus Christ. Amen.”

                  *       *       *       *       *

A retrospect of this man’s life and death must forcibly recall to the
virtuous mind the following beautiful and apposite observation from the
chaste pen of the enlightened Dr. Blair:

“Who but must drop a tear over human nature, when he beholds that
morning, which rose so bright, overcast with such untimely darkness;
that good humour which once captivated all hearts, that vivacity which
sparkled in every company, those abilities which were fitted for
adorning the highest stations, all sacrificed at the shrine of low
sensuality; and who was formed for running the fair career of life, in
the midst of public esteem, cut off by his vices in the _middle_ of his
course; or sunk for the whole of it into insignificancy and
contempt!—These, O sinful pleasure, are thy trophies! It is thus, that,
co-operating with the foe of God and man, thou degradest human honour,
and blastest the _fairest_ prospects of human felicity!”

In the gay and fashionable circles in life, too frequently originate
creatures like that whose progress in crime has just been sketched. Like
the cubs of the lion or tiger, harmless and playful, though sometimes
heavy and insipid, when young they are fondled and caressed, until the
hellish ferocity of their nature becomes developed and matured; when
with remorseless gripe they seize upon and destroy not only the
unsuspecting but the confiding victim.

Like most beasts of prey, the seducer is not found to be fond of a
gregarious life, although conformity to specific laws is indispensable.
The principal of these, the _law of honour_, is to be obeyed indeed with
scrupulous exactness. This law was first framed by a number of these
_elegant_ monsters, who, without having any settled or fixed design,
merely as a mark of distinction designated themselves “_men of the
world_,” and, having heroically dubbed one another in this manner,
agreed thenceforth to look down with contempt on the peaceful, moral,
and industrious habits of their less ambitious neighbours.

To deal no longer in metaphor, though the analogy may be considered both
close and applicable, it may be allowed me to make an attempt at an
explanation of this all-prevailing _law of honour_, an aristocratical
code, not less preposterous in conception than dangerous in tendency.
This iniquitous system has for too long a time served as a nursery or
hot-bed for the propagation of the most odious vices, generated and
nurtured, it may be asserted without its truth being questionable, equal
to the most sanguine expectations of its infamous supporters. At the
head of these vices stands irreligion: and when once a total disregard
for the attributes of God takes place; when this great barrier to human
presumption is trampled down; when this invaluable link, which unites
civilized man to his christian fellow, is once broken, the infatuated
votary may well consider himself fully qualified to become _a man of the
world_. Vain thing! how short-lived is his mad career!

His situation in the world very much resembles that of a leaky ship in
the middle of the ocean, without compass or rudder, gently wafted in the
wished-for direction for a short time while the propitious breeze
continues; but no sooner does this change, than she is left defenceless
to the mercy of the elements, to be driven by every wind, buffeted by
every wave, and ultimately sure to perish in the gathering storm.

As this law was made exclusively for the convenience of these
redoubtable sons of pleasure, it imposes no obligation but what tends to
facilitate that _refined_ intercourse they wish to subsist between
themselves; nor does it proscribe as criminal, or mean, any thing that
has not a similar tendency. It inculcates the unbridled indulgence of
licentious passions, which the polished rake alertly may pursue at times
when he ought to be employed in cultivating his understanding; and,
after a longer or shorter tutoring, according to his capacity, he bursts
forth upon the world a scourge and pest to society.

An anonymous writer of distinguished talent has given an account of one
of these pampered beings, which, so far as it regards the uncultivated
state of their minds, is admirably descriptive. This writer says, “There
is not in the world a more useless, idle animal than he who contents
himself with being merely a gentleman. He has an estate, therefore he
will not endeavour to acquire knowledge: he is not to labour in any
vocation, therefore he will do nothing. But the misfortune is, that
there is no such thing in nature as a negative virtue, and that absolute
idleness is impracticable. He who does no good, will certainly do
mischief; and the mind, if it be not stored with useful knowledge, will
certainly become a magazine of nonsense and trifles. Wherefore a
gentleman, though he is not obliged to rise to open his shop, or work at
his trade, should always find some means of employing his time to
advantage. If he makes no advances in wisdom, he will become more and
more a slave to folly; and he that does nothing, because he has nothing
to do, will become vicious and abandoned, or, at best, ridiculous and
contemptible.”

It seems doubtful whether it would not prove more disgusting than
interesting to the delicate mind, to be made acquainted with some of the
artful contrivances and base stratagems those _fine gentlemen_ practise
every day for the allurement of the innocent into their fatal snares.
But an attempt, perhaps, to unmask these assassins of virtue, these
prowlers after human blood, even should it not be very successful, might
still be useful to some credulous creatures, thus to apprize them of the
precipices they are standing over, and the inevitable destruction to
which they are continually exposing themselves in listening to the wily
tales of well dissembled but profane love, delivered either with all the
ardour of fervent passion, or that whining softness which practised
villains know so well how to command.

First, then, I would affirm that the character of the seducer is
cowardly, dishonourable, and base; and I defy the united sophistry of
the whole fraternity to refute the assertion. Is it not cowardly, I
would ask the most brazen of these unblushing champions, to invade the
retreats of innocence and peace, and, after trampling down virtue,
change them as it were into the abodes of infernal spirits, because the
inhabitants are poor and unprotected, and consequently without any means
of punishing the violator of their happiness? What prevents them from at
least attempting their ungenerous designs on families of rank, but the
_fear_ that a father or brother would wash away the insult with the
heart’s blood of the foul assailant? Or is it that the tinsel logic they
were taught in the school of “_honour_,” succeeds better in blindfolding
the understanding, weakening the faith, and warping the principles of
the unenlightened mind, that they thus prefer to attack poverty and
weakness, and to lay in ruins that sole refuge of the poor girl—purity
and virtue? What a dignified employment for “a man of the world”—“a man
of honour”—the last, graceless hope, perhaps, of some ancient, noble,
and _truly honourable_ family!

I think the world are pretty well agreed in their abhorrence of a
swindler, though his arts are surely not half so infamous as those of
the seducer; and the effects of the one, as they are felt in Society,
dwindle into insignificance when compared with the overpowering misery
produced by the conduct and practices of the other. The swindler at most
only deprives us of our money, which perhaps his own wants, or those of
a starving family, may urge, and for which at some future opportunity,
as instances have occurred, he may be able to make some reparation. But
the seducer places his victim out of the pale of earthly happiness, and,
it is feared, in this consigns her to eternal ruin.

What excuse can he plead? One of two only. Either, envious of her
happiness, he wantonly destroyed it, or esteemed the short-lived
gratification of his own brutal lusts equivalent to the endless torture
which he could not but have so much reason as to believe would thus be
visited on her. An elegant writer likens the hearts of these men to a
stagnant and putrifying lake, which sends forth its poisonous
exhalations to corrupt and wither every plant that grows on its banks.

“The morality of a man of the world amounts to little more than
prudence, and does not always come up to that; he is aware of the
allowance that is made for him, and sins up to the full extent of his
measure; he must be always ready to sacrifice his own life, or to take
that of another; in gaming, he must observe the strictest faith, and in
general must abstain from all vices that are neither elegant nor
interesting in their estimation: with these limits, he is let loose upon
society and public happiness, to plunder and debauch without penalty or
shame. Take for instance the happiness of a private family, as it
depends upon the unsullied dignity and spotless life of its females:—Are
there any of those whom we call men of the world, whom any thing but
fear would prevent from poisoning the heart, and laying waste the
principles and virtues, of women? Is there one who has religious
magnanimity enough to scare this licentious cruelty from his soul? Is
there one who would not blush to be suspected of such a virtue? and how
often would the indulgence of the vice meet its punishment in the anger
and the execrations of the world?”

The heart sickens in contemplating the waste of human happiness which is
produced by this deadly evil—Seduction. Almost all the scenes of
shameless depravity, and outraged decency, met with in the streets of
London, and other populous towns, are produced from this vile unhallowed
source. The hapless female who falls into the clutches of one of these
plunderers, eternally on the watch for prey, soon forgets that natural
modesty which forms the brightest gem in the character of the sex, and,
lured by the villain’s wiles, too easily slips aside from the path of
purity, and becomes consigned to ruin and disgrace, most probably for
life; for too rarely does it happen that a return to virtue dries up
this source of all misfortunes, or brings back the influence of those
virtues which innocence alone can diffuse over the soul.

The smooth-tongued seducer, like him that tempted our first mother, is
every moment at her ear with dangerous suggestions to wile away her
scruples, whilst by costly presents and too grateful favours, which he
can easily command out of his ready means, or fruitful speculations, the
poor girl is persuaded of a fixed attachment, of which no thought was
ever entertained: he nevertheless, by his crafty persuasions and false
promises, contrives fully to secure her credulity, and the unsuspecting
victim is left entirely at the mercy of this ruthless enemy to her peace
and happiness. Mercy!—Has the tiger mercy?—as well might that heavenly
attribute be expected to beam forth in full influence from a demon, as
to suppose that even for a moment that callous heart could be sensible
of mercy, or even of pity, towards his harmless prey. No—gloating over
the spoil, and exulting in his success, the licentious savage enjoys his
feast until it palls upon his gross appetite; and then neglect, insult
and base ingratitude prove to the wretched mourner how misplaced has
been her weak confidence, how false her expectations, how baseless all
her fond hopes of happiness, for which she had sacrificed her all to her
relentless destroyer.

The child of shame and remorse, devoted now to misery, no relief
appearing to alleviate her distress, no soothing sound bespeaking a
heart sympathizing in her sorrows, is totally given up to affliction:
the displeasure of relations, if she have any living, the cold neglect
of former friends, and the unfeeling scorn of the world, forbid approach
to consolation; employment in the common walks of industry even is
denied; and poverty, or the dread of actual starvation, leaves no
alternative but the last direful one—_prostitution_.

The haunts of lewd revelry are ever with open doors, and the detestable
bawds who preside over those disgusting receptacles are constantly on
the look-out for girls in such a desolate situation. The unhappy
creature quickly gets involved in the snare, sinks into the mass of
corruption, and is carried along in the odious and deadly flood of
intoxication, impiety, and uncurbed licentiousness, which adds another
and another miserable female to the herds that infest the public
streets, and walk in open day the disgrace of human nature.

“Seduction is never accomplished without the most villainous frauds,
falsehoods, and often perjuries. No man ever enticed a simple, innocent
female from the paths of virtue, without a complication of lies and
false oaths, that would have rendered him infamous in the eyes of any
virtuous person, had they been known. The injury he inflicts is
aggravated by the consideration that it admits of no reparation, and can
only terminate with the life of the wretched sufferer.”

It would perhaps be impossible to form any thing like a correct
comparative estimate of the quantum of misery endured by a creature
whose native purity of soul and moral principles have been thus ruined.
Few men, however, are so ignorant as not to know something of the
passionate fondness of a mother for her offspring; and from this some
idea may be conceived of the agonized and outrageous feelings that can
urge her to its destruction to conceal her guilt and the shame it
occasions. Will any one pretend to say that this barbarous and unnatural
murder is not often occasioned by seduction? Nay, further, let me ask,
Is not the seducer by profession very frequently provided with _drugs_,
which he hesitates not to administer to the wretch whom he has ruined,
for the purpose of producing abortion? and if they fail, have not
mechanical means been at times resorted to to effect the same damnable
purpose?

These are facts which they cannot, dare not deny. What must we think,
then, of the man who thus deliberately covers himself with innocent
blood,—who wantonly takes away the life of a creature that was utterly
incapable of ever having offered him any offence,—a life, too, of which
he himself was the guilty author, and which by every tie of nature he
was imperiously bound to cherish and protect? I do not mean to say, that
every man who commits the crime of seduction, would at that same time
also commit murder; but I do affirm, that there is no vice whatever,
that so speedily corrupts the heart, debases its inclination, and so
entirely depraves the mind, as an illegitimate intercourse between the
sexes: it is a melancholy fact, not to be controverted, that even in the
ordinary occurrences of life, the commission of one crime will often
require and lead to many more to conceal it. The seducer, therefore, of
a virtuous woman, to the enormity of that first offence, will and has
been led on from one criminal act to another for the necessity of
concealment, till murder has been added to the list of his foul
transgressions.

The finest feather in a seducer’s plume, and on which he most prides
himself, is the facility and indifference with which he can abandon his
degraded victim. In this respect, indeed, it must be allowed that all of
them evince considerable coolness and dexterity, consigning them in a
month, or sometimes less, to rags, hunger, and infamy, leaving to perish
the unhappy objects, whose confidence they had gained by solemn
declarations and plighted oaths of love and regard, with the most sacred
promises of never-failing protection.

Who can withhold the heartfelt, justly-merited tribute of approbation,
from the poor industrious parents who are seen struggling cheerfully
with want, enduring the chilling blasts of winter, and, after toiling
through the day, retiring at night to a miserable ill-covered pallet, to
stifle the cravings of hunger; and all borne without a murmur, that thus
they may save a pittance to procure for a beloved child the blessing of
ever so little knowledge, and thus infuse into her young mind a love of
virtue? Who would dare the presumption that these humble honest people
do wrong in cherishing the fond hope that she may contribute something
hereafter towards the support of their declining years? Or would the
seducer rather advise the mind of the child to remain unenlightened,
that she might the more blindly fall into his snares? In that, will any
man, however depraved and hardened in wickedness, lay his hand on his
breast, and answer fairly, whether he does not think the ruin of such an
innocent being a more heinous crime than murder, in almost any of the
aggravated circumstances in which it has hitherto been exposed to public
abhorrence? Will not the shame and sorrow of the parents be infinitely
more afflictive than if they had seen their child deposited in the
silent grave, if but unpolluted? And finally, will not the friends of
human happiness sympathize more with the heart-broken parents, than if a
robber had carried away the whole of their little property, and even
left them without the last remains of sustenance—a morsel of bread?

That amiable Christian philosopher and excellent moralist, Dr. Paley,
has expressed his sentiments on this subject in pointed and forcible
terms. “Upon the whole,” says he, for I must be allowed to quote them,
“if we pursue the effects of seduction through the complicated misery
which it occasions; and if it be right to estimate crimes by the
mischief they knowingly produce; it will appear something more than mere
invective to assert, that not one half of the crimes for which men
suffer death, by the laws of England, are so flagitious as this.”

There are cold-blooded mortals in the world, self-denominated sages or
philosophers, who can excuse and even sanction the most disgraceful
excesses, under the specious plea of what they term reasonable allowance
for youthful levity—the summer of life, when all the passions flow
impetuously through the free channels of the vital system, though, like
other violent streams, if left to themselves they will soon become
exhausted and dried up. If this sophistical mode of reasoning deserve
not the name of genuine philosophy, it claims at least the peculiar
merit of novelty.

Is it not fair to infer, that persons who advocate principles so hostile
to the true interests of society, have themselves been profligates
through life, and are still in reality the enemies of mankind? Does it
follow, that because the vices of early life in themselves have in a
premature old age brought on their punishment, other fountains are to be
suffered to exhaust themselves in like wickedness? Whence, it may be
asked, has any man derived the right to destroy the happiness of his
fellow creature? or what reparation will he be able to make for
unprovoked injuries so wantonly inflicted, so irreparably endured?

But unfortunately the perpetration of such crimes is not confined, in
virtuous indignation it must not be concealed, to the young alone; they
are practised also by men whose hoary locks and tottering steps would
beguile one in charitable thought to hope, that sentiments of a far
different nature should influence them to prepare for that other world,
on the verge of which they seem already standing. So great indeed is the
general regard I have for grey hairs, that it sometimes amounts to
veneration. How much more congenial, then, would it prove to screen the
foibles of that so much honoured period, than to expose any of those
failings from which no part of our earthly existence is entirely free!

But when we see an old man voluntarily stripping himself of the dignity
of years, and meanly descending from that eminence on which reverence
and regard had placed him, to vicious indulgences which exhausted nature
and the many infirmities of a debilitated frame render him incapable
even of enjoying,—when we see him, I say, still hovering around those
criminal gratifications which poison his every sober joy, and of which
he cannot now, except in prurient imagination, be a partaker, what can
or should save him from just contempt and merited indignation?

How many are there in high life, several of whom I could mention, (and
were it done, it would be perhaps but the discharge of a christian
duty,) who live in a state of unconcealed adultery,—fathers of families
taking up with women young enough to be their daughters! At the present
moment of writing, I know of two men who have grand-daughters some years
older than two country girls they have under protection, as it is
called, and whom they doubtless pay enormously for pampering their
feeble appetites, and feeding their silly vanity. Can reformation of the
young be reasonably expected, while the old continue to set such an
example?

Suppose some of the sparks of the present day, who infest and dishonour
every place of public amusement, were to commit the utmost extravagance,
even to indulge in a seraglio, how awkwardly would the fathers of many
of them remonstrate, themselves in the daily practice of like crimes,
differing only in degree? In obscene conversation, too, such antiquated
sinners have left their juvenile rivals far behind. What indeed can be
more shockingly disgusting, than to contemplate an old wretched offender
of this description seated at his own table, entertaining a large
company of old and young with the infamous exploits of his licentious
villainy? Silence and shame should displace the boasting that proves him
only dead to principle and character.

It is an evil of no inconsiderable magnitude, that vice, be it ever so
odious, will find some one or other of rank to countenance, if not to
flatter it. On what rational principle shall we attempt to account for
the reception which the most notorious seducers find in society of the
first distinction, where they are not only allowed to make their
appearance, but are generally treated with polite and even marked
civility, not unfrequently the kindest attention, too, paid them by
females who have been considered eminent for religion, piety, and moral
virtue? What is to be said of such conduct, particularly when many who
in this manner appear to make themselves partisans of seduction, are
themselves mothers of lovely daughters, on whose loss of happiness those
monsters would revel without a single feeling of remorse, and reduce to
the same degraded level with all the rest of their credulous victims,
some one or other of whom, perhaps, might have that very day been
abandoned to shame, poverty, and misery?

An able writer of deserved celebrity has well observed, that “the
confederacy amongst women of character to exclude from their society
kept mistresses and prostitutes, contributes more perhaps to discourage
that condition of life, and prevents greater numbers from entering into
it, than all the considerations of prudence and religion put together.”
Why, in the name of justice, should these unhappy objects, who are too
often only deluded agents, be excluded from society, while the real
authors of their errors, the men who have betrayed, and still keep them
enslaved in the vilest thraldom, are received and countenanced without
opprobrium or animadversion?

It is really with infinite reluctance and painful feelings that a single
reprehensive glance should be cast at any part of the conduct of my fair
countrywomen, and nothing but an anxious wish to see every female, rich
or poor, mantled in the pure robes of captivating virtue and modesty,
could induce me to assume the presumptuous language of reproof; but when
the ruin of an innocent soul is threatened, who can be silent and offend
not?

Britain is the only nation, perhaps, that can boast (as enviously
conceded even by sister countries) of women in whom are united the three
uncommon qualities of beauty, talents, and virtue. Who would not, then,
have them nobly maintain this dignified superiority? Let their morals
not be corrupted by the frivolous example of their volatile neighbours.
Let them unanimously drive from their presence the notorious and
plausible rake, who, however he may flatter, would betray and destroy.
If enthusiasm can be applauded in any case, it is where the glory of a
nation is the object; and let it never be forgotten, that from the
earliest periods of the world, those countries have always been the
greatest where the female character was the most virtuous and unsullied.


                             PROSTITUTION.

If we refer to the most obvious consequences attendant on the crime of
seduction, we shall observe, that in almost every case the victim is
reduced to the dreadful necessity of seeking a desultory and precarious
subsistence by _prostitution_, which can never fail to expose the
ill-fated object to a degree of wretchedness too painful for sensibility
and virtue to picture even in imagination.

Before pronouncing a sweeping sentence, however, of unqualified
condemnation on the horrid life these miserables lead, it would be just
to pause a little, and inquire whether an alternative is left to
them.—Forsaken and disowned by their relations; cruelly deserted by
their seducers; shunned and despised by those who formerly were proud,
perhaps, to cultivate their acquaintance; they stand, as it were, alone
in the world, an awful memento of the loathsomeness of sin.

If to this state of unhappy feeling be added the resistless calls of
hunger, the effects of cold and wet on a delicate frame, but thinly
clad, and ill-protected against the severity of season, with the
melancholy prospect of being compelled to perish in the streets, we may
have some idea of their deplorable condition. But even this picture,
dark and dreary as it is, presents a faint image only of the
indescribable gloom, terror, and dismay, which lower over the
tempestuous visitations of the heart-rending conflict of shame, want,
and misery!

What exquisite, what pure felicity must enliven his heart, who in this
extremity of vice can become the instrument, with the divine aid, of
restoring to a sense of religion and virtue, and of bringing back and
restoring to her family, in the spirit of forgiveness and
reconciliation, a poor deluded young female, ere her mind has been
depraved in vicious intercourse with the abandoned of her sex, who
vengefully in turn have become seducers, and practise upon man the same
vile arts by which they themselves had been betrayed! If any period
indeed of their wretched career be favourable for reformation, this
appears to be the most propitious; and surely the salvation, the
happiness of a fellow creature are objects too sacred, too glorious to
be given up without at least an effort. But too often, unfortunately, is
this opportunity suffered to slip by; for the benevolent few, who would
promptly and joyfully extend the hand to save, know not the dangerous
situation in which the object of such benevolence is placed, while the
general mass of mankind looks on indifferent as to the destructive
consequences inevitably to result!

Is it not as humiliating as distressing to reflect, that for one who has
true greatness of soul sufficient to pity and assist such a poor
bewildered girl, there are a hundred heartless sensualists that would
take advantage of her misfortunes, and plunge her still deeper in a foul
guilt? But she is not allowed long to hesitate between virtue and vice.
Some veteran harpy not far off, ready to satisfy her keen hunger with a
tempting feast, and cover her naked, shivering limbs with decent dress,
soon fairly enlists her under the banners of _prostitution_, where she
is compelled to endure insults the most degrading, to hear oaths and
imprecations, and suffer obscenity the most revolting, to which a little
time speedily familiarizes her.

Endowed perhaps by nature, for better purposes, with talent, she becomes
easily a proficient in all the arts and tricks of practised criminality;
she gains the favour and confidence of her mistress, or more properly
her gaoler, who sends her forth to levy contributions on all whom she
can entangle in her toils, particularly spread with malicious enmity for
the open generosity of unguarded youth. In this manner bankers’ clerks,
apprentices to shop-keepers and tradesmen, and other young men in trust,
are often entrapped, and lavish away money which these females induce
them to pilfer from their masters or parents: neglect of business, or
other irregularity, at length rouses the suspicion of the hitherto
confiding employer, who now deems it necessary to resolve on dispensing
with the young man’s further services, and turns him upon the world to
live as he can. How often has it happened, that a desperate effort to
regain that respectability thus justly forfeited, brings him to an
untimely and disgraceful end, or consigns him to distant exile for life!
Hence arises another pitiable waste of parental affection.

Many a valuable young man has thus been lost to his family and the
world: nor is the fate of the poor unhappy females generally much more
enviable. Some of them, it is true, do occasionally succeed in obtaining
settlements from old dotards; and others in appearance enjoy all the
conveniences of ease, luxury and affluence; but truth will allow the
suggestion, that there is not one in a thousand who does not on some
occasion or other experience every sorrow and anguish that can
contribute to fill up life’s bitterest cup. Where is there, or ever has
been, a woman of this abandoned class, who did not feel at some sad hour
of reflection most acutely the degradation of her state? Which of them
has not in the cravings of hunger, houseless and friendless, in feelings
of heart-consuming and unavailing sorrow, tacitly acknowledged the
slavish chains and bondage in which she was inextricably trammelled and
held down by sin?

A lingering sense of shame, perhaps, drives some other of those unhappy
and forlorn beings to a lodging of such a description as suits her
scanty means. There, in a room which is seldom half furnished, the
degraded and desolate object, with a forced and pitiable cheerfulness
badly harmonizing with the settled marks of sorrow in her countenance,
induces the visits of companions of the other sex, unknowing or careless
that, by this wretched means of obtaining to herself a subsistence, she
is leading him, in whom centre the cherished hopes, perhaps, of some
respectable family, from the paths of duty into future and unavoidable
iniquity. Thoughtless youths of this description find it easy to purloin
money and articles from home, to secure the good opinion of their
attractive mistress. The still unhappy creature, though above the dread
of want, puts on a new character, becomes prudent from necessity, and
loses no chance of improving her present harvest.

Too often, however, will pity say, the picture is reversed. Some low,
designing wretch, struggling with want and subsisting by the meanest
schemes, contrives to gain the fair one’s notice, is permitted to visit,
and by dint of assiduities and moving representations of his altered
fortunes, in a well tissued tale of distress he wins her compassion; and
the generous girl (for the generosity of the confiding female heart is
boundless) admits the plausible miscreant to her table, and shares with
him her purse; nor has the worthless vagabond the slightest sense of
shame or compunction in subsisting wholly on her miserable gains. Soon,
then, she begins to feel misfortune keenly; her favouring visitors fail,
the sources of her sad emolument are dried up; her clothes and trinkets
go to the pawnbroker’s; her ingrate _protegé_, no longer to batten on
her miserable resources, robs her; and the unfeeling landlord, or his
vociferous drunken wife, pretends now for the first time to have found
out her way of life, and, under the pretence of conscientious
abhorrence, turns her into the street without an article save what is on
her person.

O happy, happy daughters of virtue! when you contrast your situation
with that of this frail and wretched sister, be grateful to Heaven for
the blessings you enjoy; guard your every step with prudent vigilance,
lest at any moment you be tempted to go astray from the ways of
“pleasantness and peace.” Perhaps the misfortune of this wretched girl
has drawn her from a state once as delightful as your own; education and
the seeds of early virtue may have been implanted in her bosom, and were
lovely in their growth, until blasted by the seducer: observe now her
once beautiful form, worn down and emaciated by want and sickness, nay
worse, tainted with that destructive disease which is ever attendant on
such a course; see her, in short, pining and wasting away under
multiplied sorrows, and sinking rapidly into a premature grave!

Yet, even before that relief arrives, her wretchedness is too probably
increased by associating with depraved females of the same class; (for
how can she avoid those amongst whom she must live?) their habit of
drinking spirits becomes familiar to her; the delusive poison affords a
temporary relief, but hastens on a painful, lingering death, which takes
place, perhaps, in some forsaken shed, or unfurnished weatherbeaten
room: there, without fire, light or comfort of any kind, there see the
emaciated, diseased, starving, and desolate being sigh out the last
breath of a miserable life;—no friend is nigh to comfort—no accustomed
voice is heard to sooth or cheer her last awful moments of existence,
or, by once pronouncing her name, to seek assurance that as yet her soul
may not have taken flight!

In this faint sketch, which, mark! is from very life, I have endeavoured
to point out some of the innumerable evils which follow the baneful
footsteps of those flagitious traders in female virtue and happiness.
How many a poor sorrowing female, who has once listened to the
destructive tempter, and suffered her good sense to be blinded by
seductive art, has been obliged to tread in such a painful road of
thorns, debasement and affliction!

From the humble, bashful servant-maid, who has been seduced by the
fellow servant, in order to win her over to a diabolical design laid by
another as low in infamy if not condition as himself, for the ruin of
her young mistress, and which too often through her persevering wicked
agency becomes successful, up to the dashing woman of pleasure,
maintaining a proud establishment by the base traffic and barter of
female innocence,—all is a bloated mass of wickedness and falsehood.
Most unhappy indeed, and lamentable, is the lot of those innocent,
unpolluted girls who are drawn within the incantations of such
licentious syrens, smiling but to destroy, while their execrable purpose
is always enveloped in blandishments and charms, to lull the
apprehensions of the modest and virtuous victim, led along as
unsuspecting of danger as the lamb that licks the slaughtering knife.

The humble but industrious and virtuous girl apprenticed to a
respectable dress-maker is marked down by another class of prowlers,
more showy, specious and experienced. These, to dazzle at once the eyes
of the hapless virgin, make a grand display of equipage, servants in
livery, splendid house and luxurious table; the softest protestations,
the most alluring promises, and apparently fondest expressions possible,
are ever at hand. Thus, with the aid of presents, and by force of
ever-renewed compliments, against which how few female minds can be duly
guarded! the giddy creature in an unlucky moment forgets all the
precepts of an anxious mother, and of a revered father whose grey hairs
and sacred profession should have protected from the insult,—all vanish
before the wily tempter’s skill, and disappear until woful experience
opens the eyes of the infatuated girl to a sense of her lost reputation,
and despair prepares her for the worst, the dernier fate of those in
such condition.

Turn, inhuman destroyer!—take the last look at your heart-bleeding
victim before you leave her to utter destruction. If a spark of honour,
of even self-regard, lurk yet among your base unbridled passions, pause
for a moment,—let recollection flash on the youthful days of your
amiable wife;—such a villain as you have now become would have separated
her life from yours:—You have daughters—cast a father’s look on them,
and judge from your own feelings, if a father’s feelings can be yours,
what you must have inflicted, in the disgrace of that ruined girl, who,
now fallen and by you debased, clings around your feet, upon the hearts
of a peaceful, respectable, and hitherto happy family.

Can this man make any recompense for his barbarous crime? He titles as a
Lord; but vain are his immense treasures, his glittering equipages, to
restore her lost innocence: no—no effort of his can sooth the remorse of
her whom his guilt has made so miserable. Poor is the refuge from a
worrying conscience, in the thought that ample provision has been made
for the sorrower’s support, whose early death will relieve her at once
from his odious bounty and her intolerable misery.

Endless as distressing would be the undertaking to particularize the
detestable variety of iniquity thus practised; or to enumerate all the
suicides, child-murders, and secret crimes which hence originate, in all
their turpitude. Of this one deplorable fact I have had assurance in the
case of the female convicts late under my care on board the Morley, who
invariably acknowledged, when on the subject of their misfortunes, that
_seduction first led the way to guilt_, and that the baneful career in
which the sentence of the law had arrested them, might be decidedly
dated from the fatal moment of their fall from virtue.

To arrest the progress of female prostitution, various expedients and
measures have been proposed, and as numerous arguments urged in favour
of their efficacy. The most ingenious British writer on the subject
seems to be Dr. Colquhoun, whose zealous labours have long indeed been
meritoriously directed to his country’s benefit. While his active
vigilance has in many cases been successfully devoted to the
investigation and repression of crime, his opinions in the main are
correct and luminous.

In the remedy, however, which he proposes for female prostitution, his
love of police system appears to me to have carried him beyond his
depth, further perhaps than he intended. The measure he recommends is
modestly covered by a few superficial, ingenious arguments, but, when
divested of this learned covering, presents an appearance not very
satisfactory to an English eye, and to that of stern virtue is even
truly frightful—_granting to prostitutes legal licenses_!

The learned Doctor first endeavours to soften the scruples of his timid
readers by argument both speculative and specious; after which he
gravely asks, “Where then is the objection?” and then immediately
answers his own question, “In vulgar prejudice only.” He continues, “By
those of inferior education, whose peculiar habits and pursuits have
generated strong prejudices, this excuse may be pleaded; but by the
intelligent and well-informed it will be viewed through a more correct
medium.”

It might have the appearance of presumptuous temerity to oppose an
opinion to this sweeping dogma of the learned Doctor; for, agreeably to
his definition, I must confess that I am one of those _of inferior
education and vulgar prejudices_ whom he so designates. It may however
be permitted me candidly to state, that I have viewed his proposition in
every possible light, and have had some few opportunities of observing
the effects of such a system, but somewhat modified, in several parts of
the world; and that, after reflection as close and intense as my mind is
capable of giving to any subject, I have decidedly formed an opinion,
that the result of such an arrangement would be the very reverse of what
he pronounces. It would, I firmly believe, be impossible for ingenuity
to invent any thing that could contribute more effectually to vitiate
the public opinion, and entirely extinguish the moral principle, than
the open toleration or licensing of public brothels.

The Doctor surely must have forgotten that indulgence in this sin, more
than any other, prepares the mind for the admission of every vice, and
is generally the forerunner of the most diabolical and desperate
depravity in vulgar life; and in the higher walks even leads to
dissoluteness, profligacy, and total disregard of moral and religious
obligations: or would he venture with confidence “to prescribe rules
‘_Thus far shall you go, and no further_?’” Under the superintendence
even of so able a magistrate as himself, would it be possible to apply
this rule? But of this I am confident, that no plain honest man who
wishes to promote the cause of morality, and the general welfare of his
country, will ever desire to see this experiment tried in England.

In support of the propriety of this salutary measure, the Doctor adduces
examples drawn from Holland, Italy, and India. In the first of those
countries my own observation has been rather limited, though quite
sufficient to convince me, that under no circumstances or modifications
whatever could the Doctor’s expectations of the system in its
consequences be realized. That the morals of the people of that country
were formerly as pure, or “the purest of any in Europe,” as he states, I
am nothing loth to admit; but that their corruption and degeneracy have
been in a great measure occasioned by this very sanction, or connivance,
cannot, I think, be disputed.

In Italy, it is true, the system has had a wider range, and its effects
have been fully developed. The Doctor’s intercourse with that country
must have been limited indeed, else he would have known, that long
established habits of libertinism had indisposed and incapacitated the
majority of them for all useful intellectual pursuits; and that their
minds generally were too enervated to give birth to, much less sustain,
any of those noble virtues which only and irresistibly command
admiration.

Of the Italian women it is really an ungracious and painful task to be
compelled at all to speak: but although I cannot in justice give them my
unqualified approbation; and although censure, if it deserve that name,
be given in gentleness, yet it must be declared that that prompt and
resolute decision against guilt, and its indulgence, which forms so
amiable a portion of the English character, is not often, I fear, to be
met with in the women of Italy.

Against the opposition which he expected would be raised against his
favourite plan, the Doctor urges “_Plus apud me ratio valebit quam vulgi
opinio_;” but in proposing Italy, where morals and chastity have long
dwindled to a name, and are now deplored as nearly extinct, as a model
for British imitation, does he keep in sight the best part of his own
maxim?

The introduction of Italian manners and customs amongst our females,
might certainly gratify the utmost wish of _the man of the world_, and
every professed rake or libertine; but it would be leaving the husband
most probably no other security for his wife’s fidelity than the want of
a paramour and suitable opportunity. The people of that country are
notoriously licentious, practising without a blush, in open day, the
most immoral and disgraceful excesses. I regret as deeply as any one,
the vicious propensities of our own countrywomen, which it is grievous
to observe are so extensively a subject for reprehension: yet it is far
from gratifying or honouring to our nature, to entertain a conviction
which follows from the lamentable fact, that the degradation of female
chastity is, beyond all proportion, greater in Italy than it is at home.

I shall detain the reader with only a remark or two on the unhappy class
of females in India, to whom the Doctor alludes as being devoted to
indiscriminate intercourse, but whose morals in other respects, he says,
are strictly guarded, and whose minds are not susceptible of that degree
of depravity which prevails in Europe. It is with much reluctance, and
no small degree of diffidence, that I feel it necessary to differ from
one whose shining talents have contributed so eminently to the public
good. However, as I have reason to presume that he never was in India,
he must have had his information from a second, who probably had his
from a third, and who most likely felt himself authorized to take
advantage of the traveller’s privilege. Be this as it may, I am well
assured that the purity he speaks of as there existing, is no where to
be found, and that the behaviour of prostitutes in that country is
marked by all the depravity of mind, and corruptness of manners, that
can tend to imbrute the feeling, and fill the mind of the observer with
the most sickening disgust.

But allowing the Doctor’s notion of the subject to be correct, and
admitting all the force of his political maxim, “_Qui non vetat peccare
cum possit, jubet_,”—still, I think, it would be extremely difficult,
and attended with the utmost danger, to apply them to practice[32]. If
the positive commands of God, and the awful denunciations of his wrath,
can be violated and disregarded in one case, what is there to ensure
obedience and respect to them in any other? In the 13th chapter 4th
verse of the Hebrews it is declared, “whoremongers and adulterers God
will judge.” If the Legislature can grant a license to commit this crime
with impunity, and thus far neither judges nor condemns, why may it not
also, as moral principle alone is concerned, give one for committing
murder, or any other deadly sin? In short, what would there be then to
defer from trampling on the Decalogue, or the Bible itself, provided the
countenance of Government, upon some view of mere policy, could be
obtained in the shape and denomination of a license?

Having thus expressed an entire and unqualified disapprobation of any
measure that could be construed into a public sanction of brothels, and
their wretched inmates, it may be expected that I should myself
substitute some efficient proposition on the subject. I should indeed
consider such a task a duty, and feel pleasure in its performance, as
far as my competency might extend, were I not fully satisfied that there
are many, very many, in the country, whose zeal and abilities more
eminently qualify them for a disquisition so important, while their
political influence is such as to give them a hope, to me not in
prospect, of successfully advocating the cause of innocence, virtue,
religion, and social happiness.

-----

Footnote 31:

  A Government order _now_ exists, requiring the Surgeon Superintendent
  of every convict ship to establish a school, and perform divine
  worship regularly during the voyage.

Footnote 32:

  The above observations were written during the voyage to New South
  Wales, when the Author was ignorant of the heavy loss sustained by the
  public in the death of that highly talented Magistrate.


                                THE END.


 Printed by R. and A. TAYLOR.
     Shoe Lane London.




                                ERRATA.


 Page  21, line  7 from bottom, for _banisheh_ read _banished_

       67, line 12 from bottom, for _the many_ read _them any_

       71, line 12 from top, for tA. M. read A. M. Same line for
                     _weathe_ read _weather_

      114, line  9 from top, for _human heart_ read _human beast_

      241, line  7 for SORRELL read SORELL

      296, line 14 from bottom, for _th mmonness_ read _the commonness_

      343, line  1 for _ha_ read _had_

------------------------------------------------------------------------




                                                         DECEMBER, 1822.

                         NEW AND IMPORTANT WORKS,

                               PUBLISHED BY

                  LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN,

                                 LONDON.


                                    1.

                         THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS.

                                 A POEM.

                             By THOMAS MOORE.

                                 In 8vo.


                                    2.

            ILLUSTRATIONS OF MR. MOORE’S LOVES OF THE ANGELS.

     From Designs by R. WESTALL, Esq.; engraved by Mr. CHARLES HEATH.

                                 In 8vo.


                                    3.

                     THE HISTORY OF ROMAN LITERATURE,

              FROM THE EARLIEST PERIODS TO THE AUGUSTAN AGE.

                             By JOHN DUNLOP.

                             In 2 Vols. 8vo.


                                    4.

                     MEMOIRS OF MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS,

 With ANECDOTES of the Court of HENRY the SECOND, during her Residence in
                                 France.

                             By MISS BENGER.

     In 2 Vols. 8vo. with a genuine Portrait, never before engraved.


                                    5.

                       DON CARLOS; OR, PERSECUTION.

                         A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS.

                          By LORD JOHN RUSSELL.

                     Fourth Edition. In 8vo. 4s. 6d.


                                    6.

                   TRAVELS IN EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND.

                       By WILLIAM RAE WILSON, Esq.

                In 8vo. 18s. Bds. illustrated with Plates.


                                    7.

                         FIFTEEN YEARS IN INDIA:

                    OR, SKETCHES OF A SOLDIER’S LIFE.

   Being an Attempt to describe Persons and Things in various Parts of
                                Hindostan.

                           FROM THE JOURNAL OF

                   An OFFICER in his MAJESTY’S SERVICE.

                           In 8vo. 14s. Boards.



                                    8.

                   THE LIFE O THE REV. ARTHUR O’LEARY,

                                  &. &.

      Including much Historical Anecdote, Memoirs, and many hitherto
    unpublished Documents, illustrative of the Condition of the Irish
                 Catholics during the Eighteenth Century.

                        By the Rev. T. R. ENGLAND.

                      In 8vo. with a Portrait, 12s.


                                    9.

                     JOURNAL OF A HORTICULTURAL TOUR

 THROUGH SOME PARTS OF FLANDERS, HOLLAND, AND THE NORTH OF FRANCE, IN THE
                             AUTUMN OF 1817.

         By a DEPUTATION of the CALEDONIAN HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY.

                   In 8vo. with Plates, Price 16s. Bds.


                                   10.

                                MEMOIRS OF

               THE LIFE OF CHARLES ALFRED STOTHARD, F.S.A.

           Author of the Monumental Effigies of Great Britain.

 Including several of his original Letters, Papers, Journals, Essays, &c.
                                   &c.
            With some Account of a Journey in the Netherlands.

                        By MRS. CHARLES STOTHARD,

 Author of Letters written during a Tour through Normandy, Britanny, and
                     other Parts of France, in 1818.

                         In 8vo. with a Portrait.


                                   11.

                        THE BRITISH CONSTITUTION,

    OR AN EPITOME OF BLACKSTONE’S COMMENTARIES ON THE LAWS OF ENGLAND,

                         FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS.

                      By VINCENT WANOSTROCHT, L.L.D.

                    In One thick Vol. 12mo. 12s. Bds.


                                   12.

                             A NEW EDITION OF

                          THE SAXON CHRONICLES,

    WITH AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION, AND NOTES, CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY.

                          By the Rev. J. INGRAM,
    Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford, and late Saxon Professor in the
                          University of Oxford.

 To which will be added, A New and Copious Chronological, Topographical,
 and Glossarial Index, with a short Grammar of the Saxon Language, and an
   accurate and enlarged Map of England during the Heptarchy, Plates of
                       Coins, &c. In One Vol. 4to.


                                   13.

             REFORMATION: A NOVEL. In 3 Vols. 12mo. 18s. Bds.

             Tho’ losses an’ crosses
               Be lessons right severe,
             There’s wit there, ye’ll get there,
               Ye’ll find nae ither where.

                                                    BURNS.


                                   14.

             TRANSACTIONS OF THE LITERARY SOCIETY OF BOMBAY.

               Volume III.    In 4to. with numerous Plates.


                                   15.

                         THE FAMILY SHAKESPEARE;
   In which nothing is added to the original Text: but those Words and
  Expressions are omitted which cannot with Propriety be read aloud in a
                                 Family.

                 By THOMAS BOWDLER, Esq. F.R.S. and S.A.
 A new Edition, in 8 Vols. 8vo. large Type, 4l. 14s. 6d. Bds. Also, in 10
                   Vols. royal 18mo. Price 3l. 3s. Bds.


                                   16.

   THE TRAVELS OF THEODORE DUCAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES OF EUROPE, AT THE
                       REVIVAL OF LETTERS AND ARTS.

                         EDITED by CHARLES MILLS,
                  Author of the History of the Crusades.
     Part the First, ITALY.    2 Vols. 8vo.    Price 1l. 4s. Boards.


                                   17.

 AN ESSAY ON THE HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH GOVERNMENT AND CONSTITUTION, FROM
               THE REIGN OF HENRY VII. TO THE PRESENT TIME.

                          By LORD JOHN RUSSELL.
      In 8vo. the Second Edition, greatly enlarged, Price 14s. Bds.


                                   18.

   EVENINGS IN AUTUMN; A SERIES OF ESSAYS, NARRATIVE AND MISCELLANEOUS.

                          By NATHAN DRAKE, M.D.
            In Two Vols.    Post 8vo.    Price 1l. 1s. Boards.

                           By the same Author,

 WINTER NIGHTS.    2 Vols.    Post 8vo.    18s. Boards.
 LITERARY HOURS. The Fourth Edition. In 3 Vols. Post 8vo. Price 1l. 14s.
    6d. Bds.


                                   19.

                      AN ENCYCLOPÆDIA OF GARDENING;
    Comprising the Theory and Practice of Horticulture, Floriculture,
     Arboriculture, and Landscape-Gardening; including all the latest
   Improvements; a General History of Gardening in all Countries; And a
  Statistical View of its present State, with Suggestions for its future
                     Progress, in the British Isles.

                     By J. C. LOUDON, F.L.S. H.S. &c.
   Author of “A Treatise on forming and improving Country Residences.”
 Complete, in One large Volume 8vo. of 1500 Pages, closely printed, with
              Six Hundred Engravings on Wood. Price 2l. 10s.


                                   20.

            THE DIFFERENT MODES OF CULTIVATING THE PINE-APPLE,
 From its first Introduction into Europe, to the late Improvements of T.
                             A. KNIGHT, Esq.

                By a MEMBER of the HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY.
  In 8vo. Price 9s. Boards. With 74 Wood Engravings, exhibiting the best
                      Plans of Pine-Stoves and Pits.



                                   21.

  TRAVELS IN GEORGIA, PERSIA, ARMENIA, ANCIENT BABYLONIA, &c. &c. DURING
                    THE YEARS 1817, 1818, 1819, 1820.

                    By SIR ROBERT KER PORTER, &c. &c.

     Complete, in 2 Vols. 4to. With numerous Engravings of Portraits,
           Costumes, Antiquities, &c. &c. Price 9l. 9s. Boards.


                                   22.

                  AN EASY COURSE OF DOMESTIC EDUCATION;
  Comprising a Series of Elementary Treatises on the various Branches of
   Juvenile Instruction; together with Advice to Parents and Tutors for
  conducting the Education of Children. Designed for the Use of Families
                             and of Schools.

                         By WILLIAM JILLARD HORT,
                    Author of “The New Pantheon,” &c.

    In 22 Vols. 18mo. Sold together, in a Case, Price 3l. 13s. 6d. or
                               separately.


                                   23.

                   LECTURES ON THE ELEMENTS OF BOTANY,
 Containing the Descriptive Anatomy of those Organs, on which the Growth
                and Preservation of the Vegetable depend.

                      By ANTHONY TODD THOMSON F.L.S.
             Member of the Royal College of Surgeons, &c. &c.

    In 8vo. Price 1l. 8s. Boards. Illustrated with Plates and numerous
                            Wood-Cuts. Vol. I.


                                   24.

                SONGS OF ZION, BEING IMITATIONS OF PSALMS.

                            By J. MONTGOMERY.

                      In Foolscap Octavo. Price 6s.

                           By the same Author,

 GREENLAND, and other Poems. Second Edition. Price 8s. Boards.
 The WORLD before the FLOOD. Fifth Edition. Price 9s.
 The WEST INDIES, and other Poems. Fifth Edition. Price 6s.
 The WANDERER of SWITZERLAND. Eighth Edition. Price 6s.
 VERSES to the MEMORY of R. REYNOLDS. Price 2s.
 POLYHYMNIA; or Select Airs of celebrated Foreign Composers, adapted to
    English Words, written expressly for this Work. Price 6s.



                                   25.

         THE SPEECHES OF THE LATE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY GRATTAN.

                  Edited by his Son, HENRY GRATTAN, Esq.

     In Four Volumes, Octavo. With a Portrait. Price 2l. 8s. Boards.


                                   26.

        MISCELLANEOUS WORKS OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY GRATTAN.

                        In 8vo. Price 12s. Boards.


                                   27.

                         THE HISTORY OF SCOTLAND,
   From the Invasion of the Romans, till the Union with England; with a
 Supplementary Narrative of the Rebellion in 1715 and 1745. Abridged for
                  the Use of Schools and Young Persons.

                           By DANIEL MACINTOSH.

   In 12mo. The Second Edition, revised and enlarged. Price 6s. bound.

------------------------------------------------------------------------




                          TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES


 1. Moved advertising from first four pages to the end.
 2. Changed ‘births’ to ‘berths’ on p. 22.
 3. Changed ‘consistently’ to ‘consistent’ on p. 34.
 4. Changed ‘bing’ to ‘being’ on p. 105.
 5. Changed ‘to’ to ‘the’ on p. 192.
 6. Changed ‘cel’ to ‘feel’ on p. 310.
 7. Changed ‘he’ to ‘be’ on p. 335.
 8. Corrected errors mentioned in ‘ERRATA.’
 9. Silently corrected typographical errors.
10. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.
11. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
12. Enclosed bold font in =equals=.
13. Superscripts are denoted by a carat before a single superscript
      character or a series of superscripted characters enclosed in
      curly braces, e.g. M^r. or M^{ister}.