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VISITS OF MERCY? 
 
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 ""^-^ OCT 1 192,C 
 
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 REV. EZRA STIIiES ELY, D. D 
 
 WRITTEN WHILE HE WAS STATED PREACHER TO THE HOSPITAL AND 
 ALMS-HOUSE, IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK. 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 giXTH EDXTION — REVISED BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 SAMUEL F. BRADFORD, 
 
 JSSPER HARDING, PRINTER. 
 
 1829 
 
Eastern District of Peiuisylvania^ to ivit .• 
 
 *•«»«««**• BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the twenty-eigr.. . 
 
 * * day of January, in the fifty -third year of the Independence 
 
 * SEA!. , ^jf ^j^g United States of America, A. D. 1829, the 
 
 Ret. Ezha Stiles Ely, D. D. 
 of the said district, has deposited in this office the title of a book, t',2 
 right whereof he claims as proprietor, in the words following, to \ 
 
 " Visits of Mercys or the Journals of the Rev. Ezra Stiles Ely, D. J). 
 Written while he was stated preacher to the hospital and alms-house,^i; 
 in the city of New York." 
 
 In conformity to the Act of the Congress of tlie United States, 
 intituled, " An act for the Encouragement of Learning, by securing the 
 copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of 
 such copies, during the times therein mentioned." And also to the 
 act, entitled, " An act supplementary to an act, entitled, "An act for 
 the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, 
 and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies during the 
 times therein mentioned," and extending the benefits thereof to the 
 arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints.'' 
 
 D. CALDWELL, 
 Clerk of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
RECOMMENDATIONS. 
 
 By the Rev. Alexander TFaKgh, I). D. minister of the Scots^ 
 church, Well street, Mary-le-bone; and the Bev. George 
 Collison, minister of the Independent church, Walthamstow, 
 
 " A MAN is doing honour to his own heart in recom- 
 mending to the public notice the following ' Journal,' very 
 appropriately entitled 'Visits of Mercy.' The excel- 
 lent author seems to have drunk deep at the spirit of Him, 
 whose bosom was the dwelling place of pity, and who 
 went about doing good. What a blessing to the work- 
 houses, the hospitals, and other receptacles of poverty 
 and disease, especially in great cities, were men of his 
 ability, discernment, and tenderness of heart, the persons 
 appointed to perform in them the duties of the christian 
 ministry ! 
 
 " In every page of the work, we recognise ' the man of 
 feeling;' but it is the feeling of the renewed heart, en- 
 larged as is the range of human wretchedness, purified by 
 the indwelling Spirit of God, and ennobled by the model 
 on which it is formed. We assure ourselves of the thanks 
 of every humane and pious mind, in respectfully intro- 
 ducing a work so happily fitted to soften, to cleanse, and 
 to exalt the heart of man, and give energy to the best 
 affections of our nature. 
 
 Alexander Waugh. 
 George Collison." 
 
IV RECOMMENDATIONS. 
 
 By Benjamin Rush^ M, D, 
 
 The late Dr. Benjamin Rush, in a letter to Dr. David 
 Hosack, dated, Philadelphia, January 2 1st, 1813, thus 
 writes of the same work: 
 
 " When you see your friend, Mr. Ely, please to tell him 
 I have read his Journal with pleasure and instruction; and 
 that I shall avail myself of some of his facts, should a 
 second edition be called for, of my late publication upon 
 * The Diseases of the Mind.' " 
 
 From several Clergymen. 
 " We have read, with peculiar gratification, Ely's First 
 Journal, which breathes a spirit of ardent piety, and zeal 
 for the salvation of sinners; and exhibits a picture, warm 
 from life, of the consolatory influence of the religion of Je- 
 sus. Ely's Second Journal, which is now offered to the 
 public, as a continuation of the First, we are persuaded will 
 have the same excellent tendency. Both of these little vo- 
 lumes we most cordially recommend to the serious perusal 
 of all christian people, and wish them a most extensive cir- 
 culation, as calculated to promote the best interests of the 
 
 church. 
 
 Samuel B. Wylie, D. D. 
 Pastor of the Reformed Presbyterian Church in Philada. 
 
 James R. Wilson, D. D. 
 Professor of the Learned Languages. 
 Jacob Broadhead, D. D. 
 Pastor of the Reformed Dutch Church. 
 Henry Holcombe, D. D. 
 Pastor of the First Baptist Church. 
 
 George C. Potts, A. M. 
 Pastor of the 4th Presbyterian Church, Philada. 
 
 Philadelphia^ Oct. 28, 1815." 
 
RECOMxMKNDATlOXS. V 
 
 " We have read with pleasure and edification the First 
 Journal of the Rev. Mr. Ely, and are happy to learn that 
 a Second is about appearing. Publications calculated to 
 awaken christian sympathy and benevolence, by unfolding 
 the miseries of depraved and suffering humanity, and that 
 have a tendency to exhibit the value of the gospel of Christ 
 as a means of regenerating the heart, reforming the life, 
 or soothing the bed of dissolution, cannot be too widely 
 circulated. Mr. Ely has our best wishes for his success 
 in all his meritorious and active endeavours to advance 
 the interests of the Mediator's kingdom. 
 
 William Staughton, D. D. 
 Pastor of the Baptist Church in Sansom street, Philada. 
 
 William Rogers, D. D. 
 Late Professor in the University of Pennsylvania. 
 
 October 27th, 1815." 
 
 By several London Reviews. 
 
 The Eclectic Review, of May 1814, in speaking of this 
 work, says, **This volume contains some very important 
 instruction to the profligate. They will meet with awful 
 relations of the wretched end of vice, and of the aggra- 
 vated misery which will fall upon those who follow no 
 guide but inclination, and who obey no law but passion. 
 
 "The book concludes with some highly interesting 
 cases of insanity; but they are too long for insertion. 
 The whole is written in a perfectly unaffected style; and 
 many passages might be pointed out, of just and lively 
 description, and some which are exquisitely pathetic.** 
 
 The Evangelical Magazine for July, 1813, remarks, "This 
 
 A 2 
 
VI RECOMMENDATIONS. 
 
 work was lately published in New York, under the patron- 
 age of Dr. Romeyn, with a recommendatory preface by 
 Dr. Philip Milledoler. In this country it comes recom- 
 mended by two of our respected editors, the Rev. Messrs. 
 Waugh and Collison, whose warm encomiums require no 
 addition, except it be that of Mr. Osgood, an American 
 minister now in London, who had a personal acquaintance 
 with the author, and witnessed his benevolent exertions, 
 which he particularly recommends to the imitation of 
 those who visit ' the sick and the poor among ourselves.' " 
 The Evangelical Magazine for September, 1813, says, 
 " The Visits of Mercy are well worthy the perusal of 
 all who are capable of feeling for the natural and moral 
 miseries of their fellow-creaturesj of appreciating the 
 value of an active, devoted, and judicious ministry; or of 
 panting after a share of its immortal honours." 
 
THE AUTHOR'S PREFACIS 
 
 TO THE FIRST EDITION OF HIS FIRST JOURNAL. 
 
 The author of the following Journal, is now happy to 
 gratify many of his friends, who have long urged the pub- 
 lication of it. To all those who have contributed to the 
 propagation of the Gospel among the poor of this city, 
 it is respectfully inscribed; and particularly to the Rev. 
 John B. Romeyn, D. D. whose indisposition has prevent- 
 ed him from performing that friendly service, which he 
 promised, of introducing this work to the public. He 
 has ever cherished the author in his ministerial labours, 
 and having sympathized with the afflicted poor, was deter- 
 mined to plead their cause. His benevolent heart will 
 unite with me in gratitude to our inestimable friend, the 
 Rev. Philip Milledoler, D. D. for having performed the 
 intended labour of love. 
 
 To be insensible to the commendations of the good, 
 would be unchristain. The author thanks Dr. Milledo- 
 ler for his favourable sentiments and personal friendship. 
 His grateful approbation, however, should not meet the 
 public eye, were it not for the hope, that the Doctor's ad- 
 dress will prove instrumental in founding a society for the 
 support of the Gospel in the hospital and alms-house, 
 which shall be as lasting as those institutions. The writer 
 may express this hope, without the imputation of selfish- 
 ness; for, having performed "a tour of duty,'* he would 
 wish to retire, and give place to some more valiant soldier 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 of the cross. He does not plead, nor desire others to 
 plead, for himself. Every motive of a personal nature, 
 which presents itself to his mind, urges his resignation; 
 and, possibly, it might promote the cause of Christ, to 
 maintain such a rotation in the stated preacher's ofhce, as 
 would give many young ministers the opportunity of be- 
 coming familiar with wretchedness and death. " It is 
 good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth." 
 The writer has, therefore, relinquished all subscriptions 
 in his favour; but will never cease to plead that the Gospel 
 may be preached to the poor within our cities, to the pa- 
 gans who sit in the darkness of death, to *' every crea- 
 ture." 
 
 E. S. Ely. 
 New York^ Sept. 1812. 
 
THE AUTHOR'S FBXSFAOZ: 
 
 TO THE 
 
 PRESENT EDITION. 
 
 The following pages were written in the city of New 
 York, in 1811 and 1813. That portion which composed 
 the First Journal was published in that city, in 1812, as a 
 distinct work^ and soon after was reprinted in London, 
 under the title of '* Visits of Mercy," which was pre- 
 fixed to it without the knowledge of the author. The 
 motto of the original, 
 
 " Bliss is a being of celestial birth. 
 
 Which lightly o'er primeval Eden trod. 
 
 Ascended at the fall, nor deign'd the earth 
 
 A transient visit with the Son of God;*' 
 
 was also exchanged, by the English publisher, for the 
 following: 
 
 <* O might the mantle soon descend, 
 
 That Howard's gentle spirit clad. 
 Give humankind a general friend. 
 
 And make the sons of sorrow glad ! 
 Are there, who groan in haunts obscure. 
 
 Whence misery banishes the gay; 
 The pale, the sick, the shivering poor, — - 
 
 And shall we turn our hearts away ?" 
 
 While I cordially unite in the aspiration of these lines, 
 and feel grateful for the kind regards expressed by these 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 changes, I must confess that they imply praise, which I do 
 not deserve ; and consent to retain the title of " Visits of 
 Mercy," for the sake of the advantage vv^hich may result 
 from a good name. 
 
 The substance of my Second Journal was written in 
 1813, and published in Philadelphia in 1815, as my "Se- 
 cond Journal." This also was reprinted in London in 
 the following year ; and soon after a handsome edition 
 of the two volumes appeared in Ireland. Having been 
 credibly informed that not less than four editions of the 
 work, consisting of more than ten thousand copies, have 
 been sold in England and Ireland, I am not without hope 
 that the present impression will be acceptable in my own 
 beloved country. 
 
 The first effort which the author made, through the 
 press, to procure, if possible, the stated preaching of the 
 Gospel for the poor in New York, was by the publication 
 of his "Sermon for the Rich to Buy," on Revelations 
 xiv. 13. In the pulpit he had previously exerted himself 
 on the subject; when he thought Providence presented a 
 favourable opportunity. It was under these circumstances: 
 a large and respectable assembly was convened in the 
 Presbyterian church in Cedar street; and for an hour sat 
 anxiously expecting the Rev. Dr. J. M. Mason. By some 
 misunderstanding he did not come. A young gentleman, 
 who sat next to me in a pew, said, "It is a shame that 
 there should be five ministers here, and not one of you 
 will preach !" I replied, "If no one else consents, I will^" 
 which was soon published to the audience, who had by 
 this time arisen to depart. My trembling steps scarce 
 supported me to the pulpit; for I had made no previous 
 preparation for the occasion, and I never preached a ser- 
 
PREFACE. XI 
 
 mon from having committed it to memory in my life. 
 What rendered the matter worse, I had to read Rouse's 
 version of the Psalmsj to vi^hich I w^as, at that time, wholly 
 unaccustomed^ and I happened to fall on no very smooth 
 portion, yet one that seemed descriptive of my situation: 
 
 "Like pelican in wilderness. 
 
 Forsaken I have been: 
 I, like an owl, in desert am, 
 
 That nightly there doth moan: 
 I watch, and, like a sparrow, am 
 
 On the house-top alone." 
 
 Fsalm 102, verse 6. 
 
 In prayer, it pleased the Lord to increase my strength^ 
 and I was enabled in discoursing to say, boldly, in the 
 language of my text, "As much as in me is, I am ready 
 to preach the gospel to you." In the application, I ex- 
 horted those to whom the gospel is precious, to send it 
 to the destitute; and especially to the poor in their own 
 city. The real state of the hospital and alms-house was 
 then portrayed; but the citizens would hardly believe me. 
 It could not be, many said, that these places were so des- 
 titute. This induced me to publish the substance of my 
 application in a new discourse from another text, which 
 was soon followed by my Journal; and not without effect. 
 
 Another circumstance relative to my First Journal may 
 now be safely told; and perhaps will be interesting. When 
 I had written out nearly a quire of paper relative to the 
 lunatics, three gentlemen, I believe through the instiga- 
 tion of one of them, now gone to his Judge, requested a 
 sight of my manuscript. They were managers of the 
 hospital, and the committee for the lunatic apartment. 
 It would not do, I thought, to refuse their request. When 
 
ill PREFACE* 
 
 they had obtained my papers, which I had written in the 
 room of the maniacs, they refused to return them, on the 
 plea that the publication of them would injure the insti- 
 tution. One of them sent me word, that they would not 
 deliver them, if I should bring a suit against them, and 
 it should cost them thousands of dollars. I was subse- 
 quently informed, that they had committed my manu- 
 script to the flames; and thus perished the best portion 
 of my work. 
 
 Regrets on this subject I knew to be unavailing, and 
 controversy with rich men impracticable for a pennyless 
 young clergyman; so I made use of the few rough sketches 
 which I had left, and put my memory in requisition to 
 reproduce something like the original. The result ap- 
 pears under the head of Insanity, What injury, if any, 
 this part of my First Journal has ever done any one, I 
 have yet to learn. 
 
 E. S. Ely. 
 
 Philadelphia, January 1, 1829. 
 
PREFATORY ADDRESS, 
 
 To the Members of the Presbyterian and Reformed Dutch 
 Churches, in the city of New York: 
 
 By Philip Milledoler, D. D. 
 
 Dear Brethren, 
 
 It is well known to many of you, that the alms-house and 
 hospital of this city were, previously to the year 1810, in 
 a very destitute situation, in point of Gospel privileges. 
 Whilst unremitting care has been exercised in those im- 
 portant institutions, for preserving the lives and health of 
 their inhabitants, the immortal part, uncherished and un- 
 cultivated, has been suifered to pine away with famine of 
 the word of God. 
 
 The attention of the religious public has, for some time 
 past, been called to this subject, by the Rev. Ezra Stiles 
 Ely, a member of the Presbytery of New York. In June, 
 1810, he began to preach in the alms-house, and in the 
 month of October, of the same year, in the hospital. In 
 November following, a form of subscription was drafted, 
 and subscribed by a number of individuals, who were prin- 
 cipally of the Presbyterian and Dutch communion of this 
 city, for the maintenance of the Gospel in those places. 
 Mr. Ely was retained as their stated preacher, and has la- 
 boured in the charge assigned him, from that time to the 
 present, with approved ability, and indefatigable zeal. 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
XIV PREFATORY ADDRESS. 
 
 Of the nature and success of his labours, some estimate 
 may be formed from the interesting journal contained in 
 this book. The writer of this address has not read the 
 whole journal, but judges from what he has seen, that it 
 will excite greater attention to the subject of which it 
 treats, than has ever yet existed. These documents prove 
 their author to have taken a deep interest in his work. 
 They prove also, with overwhelming conviction, the im- 
 portance of missionary labour, in those asylums of wretch- 
 edness and wo, with which he has been conversant. 
 
 It is with extreme regret, that we have witnessed the 
 failure of pecuniary resources in the prosecution of his de- 
 signs. It is a fact, however, which ought not to be con- 
 cealed, although he has requested me to be silent on this 
 subject, that our missionary has hitherto laboured in that 
 point, under the most distressing embarrassments. Solely 
 dependent on a precarious subscription, which he has now 
 entirely relinquished, his receipts have never exceeded 
 half the necessary support of a single man. For want of 
 proper arrangements at the outset, he has been under the 
 disagreeable necessity of being his own solicitor, account- 
 ant, and collector. Having, commenced his labours under a 
 plan radically defective, he has submitted to all the evils 
 growing out of it; and for two years has faithfully preach- 
 ed Jesus Christ, and him crucified, in the alms-house, and 
 for the same time, lacking only a few days, in the hospital. 
 
 Shall an object of such magnitude as this, my brethren, 
 in such a city as this, be abandoned, or even suspended, 
 for want of pecuniary aid? Great as it is in its present 
 and eternal consequences, shall it be suffered to languish 
 and die under our eyes? No, it is hoped and believed that 
 it will not be abandoned. 
 
PREFATORY ADDRESS. XV 
 
 That efficient measures should be taken for the continu- 
 ance of the Gospel in those institutions, will appear, 
 
 1st. From the importance of the object. 
 
 By the last report of the superintendent of the alms- 
 house, there were 1409 persons dependent on that institu- 
 tion. Of this number it is supposed that 800 at least are 
 capable of receiving religious instruction. The hospital 
 admits not less than a thousand different patients in the 
 course of each year; some of these remain a few weeks, and 
 others several months. Two hundred persons, on an ave- 
 rage, annually die in the two institutions. What a field of 
 labour does this offer to a faithful ministry ! Here are 
 some insane persons, in whose case the prudent converse 
 of a spiritual physician, may advantageously second the ef- 
 forts of medical skill. Here many children need instruc- 
 tion, who, without it, might become the future pests of 
 society. Here are pious souls oppressed with poverty and 
 disease, who hail the approach of a minister of Jesus, with 
 almost as much joy and gratitude, as if he were an angel 
 from heaven. There are doubtless some, who enter these 
 institutions with minds shrouded in ignorance, and hearts 
 hardened in sin: to them, how necessary is it that divine 
 instruction should be communicated, and one more effort 
 made to snatch them from perdition! Such an attempt 
 is intercepting them on the very borders of destruction. 
 Whatever may be the issue, it is interesting, it is rational, 
 it is godlike. That men are often called to repentance by 
 afflictive dispensations of Providence, who will deny? 
 When their bodies are wasting with disease, or their souls 
 sinking in despondence, dark is that mind which does not 
 anticipate futurity, and hard that heart which is uninflu- 
 enced by the gospel. There are such characters, we know; 
 
XVI PREFATORY ADDRESS. 
 
 but, on the other hand, are there not many who will have 
 eternal cause to rejoice in afflictions, sanctified by grace 
 to their salvation? 
 
 To extend the glad tidings of salvation is a great chris- 
 tian duty; and the true disciples of Jesus every where ac- 
 knowledge it. To fulfil this duty, missionary societies have 
 been formed in our own country, as well as in Europe. 
 Distant missions to the heathen have been planned and 
 executed. That spirit which has deplored their situation, 
 and attempted their relief, we honour and rejoice in. But 
 shall we neglect missionary ground under our eye, and at 
 our very doors.^ Whilst we explore far distant regions of 
 missionary labour, shall we pass over our own fields, 
 which are whitening to the harvest? The wisdom of such 
 conduct is exceedingly questionable. The soul of a pauper 
 in the alms-house of New York, is as valuable as the soul 
 of an Indian on the banks of the Ganges. Whilst our eyes 
 then are turned to the distant harvest-fields, let us not leave 
 our own uncultivated or ungathered. 
 
 To urge the necessity of immediate attention to this sub- 
 ject, I would observe, 
 
 2dly. That if any thing is done, it must be done by indi- 
 viduals. 
 
 Benefactions of a public or private nature, may hereafter 
 forward this work of charity; but the foundation of it must 
 be laid in individual enterprise. It is doubted whether 
 the corporation of this city have power to appropriate 
 any part of their funds for the support of a religious in- 
 structer in the alms-house. If they have not, it cannot be 
 expected; if they have, they may wish to avoid the charge 
 of partiality to a particular denomination. 
 
 Jealousy between different denominations, in a case like 
 
PREFATORY ADDRESS. XVU 
 
 this, never has, and we have reason to believe from the 
 nature of it, never will appear. Be this, however, as it 
 may, something should be done for the relief of these in- 
 stitutions, as soon as possible. We acknowledge it as a 
 just principle, that privileges extended to one denomina- 
 tion, should be equally allowed to others; and that favours 
 conferred on one, should be common to all. As we, there- 
 fore, arrogate to ourselves no exclusive privilege, none 
 can have a right to complain. 
 
 It may be supposed by some, that if the clergy should 
 visit those institutions in their turn, it would supersede 
 the necessity of employing a missionary. Such an ob- 
 jection, if made, is founded in ignorance of the situation 
 of the clergy, as well as of the duties to be performed by 
 such a missionary. The writer of this address is per- 
 suaded that the ministers of the Gospel in tfeis city, are dis- 
 posed to do their duty; but he also knows that a faithful 
 observance of duties in their own charges is enough, and 
 in many instances more than enough, to occupy their 
 whole time and attention. Such of the laity as are best ac- 
 <]uainted with ecclesiastical affairs know this statement to 
 be correct. But again, if they are to preach in those insti- 
 tutions, they ought to officiate on the Sabbath, and must 
 consequently leave their own churches unsupplied. But 
 occasional preaching is not the whole, nor even a principal 
 part of what is to be done in those institutions. The per- 
 son charged with the spiritual care of them, should be 
 daily at his post. To form an acquaintance with his charge, 
 to know their characters, to exhort and rebuke with all 
 long-suffering and gentleness, to dry away the tears of the 
 afflicted, to pour oil and wine into the festering wounds of 
 the broken-hearted mourner, to counsel and pray with the 
 
 b2 
 
XVlll PREFATORY ADDRESS. 
 
 dying, and daily to preach from ward to ward, and from 
 couch to couch, Jesus and the resurrection; these are a 
 specimen of the labours of a missionary in those houses; 
 and if this be not done, the object to be accomplished, 
 is not, and cannot, be attained. 
 
 Can all these duties be performed by the stationed pas- 
 tors of this city? No, it is impossible; they may mourn 
 over the omission, but they cannot supply it. Abundantly 
 furnished with the means of grace for ourselves, brethren, 
 are we not called by every consideration that can influence 
 the human mind, to extend these blessings to the poor, 
 the destitute, and the friendless? It is characteristical of 
 the Gospel, that it should be preached to the poor; and 
 shall we suffer them to starve at our doors for the bread of 
 life? Can we excuse it to our consciences, or can we an- 
 swer it to our God? '* Freely ye have received, freely 
 give," was a command of Christ to his disciples; a com- 
 mand which will apply to us, in relation to this subject, 
 with peculiar emphasis. The members of Christ may 
 suffer, but they are his members still; and let us not for- 
 get that what is done for the least of these his brethren in 
 tribulation, he will graciously consider as done unto him- 
 self. 
 
 You will undoubtedly pardon the author of this address, 
 brethren, for the liberty he has taken. He has felt himself 
 constrained to be urgent on this subject. The object held 
 up to your view, he considers of incalculable import- 
 ance, and deprecates the idea of its abandonment. He 
 knows there are many claims on your liberality, but who 
 among you is the poorer for them all? We live in trou- 
 blous times, but shall we, therefore, cease to live actively 
 for Christ ? If what has been said, shall have a tendency to 
 
PREFATORY ADDRESS. XIX 
 
 draw your attention to this subject, he will think it an 
 honour to associate with such as may wish to carry it in- 
 to effect. And if he can be in any wise instrumental in 
 fixing the Gospel on a permanent foundation in those in- 
 stitutions, he will consider it as one of the happiest events 
 of his life. 
 
 That it may please God in all things to direct you, and 
 that grace, mercy, and peace, from God our Father, and the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, may be multiplied to you and yours, is 
 the prayer of. 
 
 Dear brethren, 
 Your friend and servant in the Lord, 
 
 Ph. Milledoler, 
 New York, Sept. 16M, 18 12, 
 
VISITS OF MERCY, 
 
 FIRST JOURKTAZ.. 
 
 January 1, 1811. 
 
 He that finds 
 
 One drop of heaven's sweet mercy in his cup, 
 
 Can dig", beg, rot, and perish, well content, 
 
 So he may wrap himself in honest rags 
 
 At his last gasp.'* Cowpbr. 
 
 Since the first of October last, the patients in the hos- 
 pital have had the opportunity of hearing one discourse 
 on every Lord's day. Out of the two hundred persons in 
 this institution, about half have been sufficiently restored 
 to health to attend public worship. All pay a decent, 
 many a solemn, and some a devout, attention to the 
 preached gospel. Several persons, by their dying con- 
 victions and anxieties, have excited a deep interest in my 
 heart, but since I did not then write a description of their 
 last glimmerings, I shall not now attempt it. In future, 
 some of the most interesting cases which present them- 
 selves shall be recorded in "the short, and simple annals 
 of the poor." 
 
 Previous to this date, I have delivered twenty-three 
 discourses in the alms-house. The poor in this institu- 
 
22 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 tion throng the places of public worship: and rarely have 
 I had the pleasure of witnessing, in any audience, more 
 lively gratitude for the glorious gospel of the grace of 
 God. Most assemblies, from the frequency of preaching, 
 and from the circumstance of their supporting the minis- 
 try, appear to consider the messages of grace a matter of 
 course; and ministers of reconciliation, servants sold to 
 discharge a pecuniary debt: but these poor people con- 
 sider every exhibition of divine compassion to be really a 
 gratuitous offering on the part of God. To them the 
 gospel is a gift to which they have no «laim, and for 
 which many of theiri bless the grace of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 In some instances, I am constrained to believe, that the 
 ministration of the word has been accompanied by a di- 
 vine and saving influence. Some have been convinced of 
 sin; some aged believers comforted; and, I trust, some 
 converted. At present, I will simply state the case of 
 three persons; and in future, record events as they pass, 
 or leave them in obscurity until the revelation of the last 
 day. 
 
 An aged woman was often visited, and instructed in the 
 things which appertain to a sinner's peace. For three or 
 four days, with the intermission of only a few moments, 
 besides those of sleep, she would exclaim, ''O Lord 
 Jesus! I am a vile sinner: I deserve hell; but, oh! pardon 
 me! pardon all my sins! Lord Jesus, I come to thee, I 
 confess to thee, I trust in thee:" and with these expres- 
 sions on her lips, she died. 
 
 A young man of about twenty-seven years of age, was 
 visited in his last sickness. When I approached him, he 
 was convulsed with coughing, which was excited in part 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 23 
 
 by the smoke of a very offensive pipe, which an old man 
 was using in a distant part of the room. The sick man 
 told me he should soon recover, could he be delivered 
 from that tormenting smoke. His lungs, however, were 
 affected by something worse than the fumes of tobacco. 
 At my reproof, and request, the pipe was abandoned, 
 and all who were in the room drew around the sick man's 
 bed to listen to our discourse. For a time, the young 
 man was determined that he would recover, and flattered 
 himself, as people commonly do, whose vitals are wither- 
 ing with the consumption. Frankly I told him that I saw 
 the presage of death in his eyes. '* What do you see in 
 my eyes?" demanded he, and turning his face from me, 
 covered it from observation. "They are glossy: but 
 whether you live or die, it is desirable that you should 
 know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, who 'gave him- 
 self to death for the redemption of enemies. He died for 
 sinners; for such sinners as we are; and with a desire that 
 you should be saved by him, I come to speak of Jesus. 
 But I would not impose my discourse upon you." He 
 turned his face to me again, but would not admit that he 
 might soon die. I attempted to convince him of sin, and 
 of the righteousness which is in Christ. He requested 
 me to pray for him; and after prayer was offered, I had 
 the satisfaction, sweet and mournful to the soul, of hearing 
 him, who had sedulously excluded the thoughts of death 
 and judgment from his mind, confess, *' Well ! I am a sin- 
 ner ! O I am a sinner 1" This he repeated three times, 
 with such peculiarity of emphasis, as to convince all pre- 
 sent, that the confession had never before escaped from 
 his lips. I saw him no more; for soon after this inter- 
 view he departed from the earth. 
 
24 VISITS OF MERCT. 
 
 The last case which I shall state, is that of an aged wo- 
 man, who for three or four weeks, while attending to the 
 concerns of her own soul, was in wretchedness, little in- 
 ferior to that of despair. When she heard the word of 
 God, she trembled like a criminal receiving the sentence 
 of condemnation. She was an object of pity to all who 
 knew her, and could feel sympathy with the miserable. 
 She was fervently remembered in prayer, by those who 
 personally knew the joys of pardoned sin. Formerly she 
 had entertained hope of acceptance with God^ but she had 
 departed from her Comforter, and now she was the prey 
 of a guilty conscience. While she was in this situation, 
 I was prevailed upon by some sick persons to preach 
 once more than usual in the week. For this third dis- 
 course I had selected a subject, and was prepared to 
 speak, but did not commit even the text to paper. While 
 on my way to the place of worship, I reviewed my plan, 
 and thought I retained it perfectly. But in the prayer 
 before sermon, the words of the apostle, recorded in 
 Romans v. 1. took possession of my whole soul. "There- 
 fore, being justified by faith, we have peace with God, 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ." My former text, and 
 the whole arrangement of thought, were gone from me. 
 The attempt to find the place, and recall the perfectly 
 familiar subject, was vain. This was a sufficient intima- 
 tion of my duty, and by divine assistance, I descanted 
 freely on justification by faith, and that peace with God, 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ, which results from it. 
 While speaking I did not know that this distressed wo- 
 man was present^ but when about to leave the room, she 
 arose from her humble seat behind the door, detained me 
 by holding my coat, and then, clasping my hands, wet 
 
VI3IT3 or MERCY. 25 
 
 them with tears. She would have spoken, but seemed 
 unable. **This woman," I said, turning to a judicious 
 friend, who had accompanied me to judge of the expedi- 
 ency of preaching the Gospel in this place, '' is the person 
 of whose deep convictions of sin I have often told you." 
 *' O yes, sir!" she exclaimed, with inexpressible emotions, 
 "and I feel myself as wicked now, as I did then. I'm a 
 poor vile sinner; but I think, being justified by faith, I be- 
 gin again to have peace with God, througli our Lord Jesus 
 Christ." "Do you perceive," it was asked, "that God 
 can be just in justifying the ungodly, who believe; and 
 is Christ precious to you?" She replied, "I think 
 Christ has now got the highest place in my heart, and, 
 O, I pray God, he would aye keep him there!" My com- 
 panion, as well as myself, was rendered speechless, by the 
 tenderness of her love to Jesus; and we passed away, un- 
 der the full conviction, if not the exhilarating impression, 
 that unto those who believe, He is precious. 
 
 January 5th. 
 
 "This is the desert, this the solitude; 
 
 How populous, how vital is the gravel" — Youko. 
 
 This afternoon, a dying man at the hospital sent a re- 
 quest to see me. I went immediately; but it was too late 
 for a spiritual physician to learn any of the peculiar symp- 
 toms of his spiritual malady. With all his exertions he 
 could not speak. In such a case, what could be done, but 
 make a general application of the Balm of Gilead ? I ad- 
 dressed him as a sinner, in the last hour of life, with this 
 instigation to faithfulness; ** he will very soon give an 
 
26 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 account of this interview to God." He signified that he 
 wished me to pray. After I had complied with his de- 
 sire, I turned my attention to eight or ten miserable com- 
 panions in sickness, who could not probably long survive 
 the death of the departing person. They felt for him, but 
 were almost unconcerned for themselves. They calculated 
 upon recovery. How lamentably true is the declaration, 
 
 " All men think all men mortal but themselves!'* 
 In half an hour after I left the house, the sick man died; 
 and in the same afternoon, two other patients followed to 
 the state of the dead. 
 
 January 6ih. 
 
 " How many fall as sudden, not as safe; 
 
 As sudden, though for years admonish'd home. 
 
 Of human ills, the last extreme beware, 
 
 Beware, Lorenzo, a slow-sudden death. 
 
 Tlow dreadful that deliberate surprise! 
 
 Be wise to day; 'tis madness to defer." — Youso. 
 
 In the morning of this day, the Rev. Mr. A. preached 
 for me in the hospital; and after divine service I visited 
 several rooms, in which were patients on the border of 
 the grave. In the afternoon I preached in the alms-house. 
 There a woman of middle age lay before me, who had been 
 moral in deportment, industrious in the office of an upper 
 servant, but who, in a decline of eighteen months, had ex- 
 pended, on many physicians, all which her industry had 
 accumulated, for the probable wants of decrepitude. About 
 five weeks since she was brought into this place, to rest 
 for a short space on the arm of public charity, and then 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 27 
 
 sink into the common grave. I have been acquainted 
 with her ever since her residence in this asylum for po- 
 verty and wretchedness. Twice I have preached in her 
 hearing, and often prayed with her. At each time she had 
 perfect possession of her reason, and appeared to under- 
 stand my discourse. A few days since, after I had prayed 
 with her, she uttered a sentence which deserves to be re- 
 membered. 
 
 *' I desire to bless and praise my God for all his chas- 
 tisements; and especially, I bless him, painful as my sick- 
 ness is, and mortifying as it was to come to the poor- 
 house, that he has brought me to this place, since 
 within these walls, as within the walls of a prison, I 
 have been shut up to the Gospel, and have for the 
 first time in my life heard the good news with joy." 
 She uttered these words with painful respiration, in a 
 whisper, and was necessltaled lo make a long pause after 
 each member of the sentence. It was astonishing that 
 she could, in her weak state, utter so long a sentence, with 
 such accuracy and pith. What could she have said, to ex- 
 press more strongly her high estimation of the Gospel ? 
 *'Had I not been sent here, against my will," she added, 
 ''I might never have known Jesus Christ." To-day she 
 was far gone, but still retained her mental powers. When 
 we sung these words, 
 
 " I yield my powers to thy command, 
 To thee I consecrate my days; 
 
 Perpetual blessings from thy hand. 
 Demand perpetual songs of praise:" 
 
 she lifted up her hands to heaven, clasped them, let them 
 fall on her bosom, and swooned. After public worship 
 was concluded, she was so much revived, as to express 
 
28 visits OF MEUCY. 
 
 a wish to see me. I approached her bed. She made 
 great exertions to speak, but 1 could only hear her say, '' I 
 feel differently at times. I'm afraid that I de- 
 ceive myself." This fear I told her was an evidence that 
 she did not trust in herself. " He that trusteth in his own 
 heart is a fool." She was less likely to be deluded than 
 self-confident persons. When I bade her farewell, she 
 stretched out her hand to me, and pressing mine, said, 
 "' pray pray for me." 
 
 January 9th. 
 
 When I left the trembling believer, on the last sabbath, 
 I bade her a final farewell, informing her that I should see 
 her no more until we meet at the judgment-seat of Christ. 
 At three o'clock this morning, she fell asleep. She had 
 been baptized in her infancy, was a regfular attendant on 
 Trinity church, and lived, as the world say, *'a good, 
 moral life." During several weeks she appeared to pos- 
 sess "a broken and contrite heart." May it not be rea- 
 sonably supposed that she sleeps in Jesus.^ Should one soul 
 be saved in the course of a year's service, I shall be com- 
 pensated, and those benevolent persons who contribute to 
 my support will not lose their reward. 
 
 January lOth, 
 
 " See the dim lamp of life just feebly lift 
 An agonizing beam, at us to gaze, 
 Then sink again, and quiver into death. 
 The most pathetic herald of our own." — Younq. 
 
 After preaching this evening to the poor in the alms- 
 house, I went by request to pray with two females, who 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 29 
 
 have attended on my ministry, and are now confined to 
 their beds. One is an aged widow, who is pious, and who, 
 I believe, will recover, to limp along through life, on two 
 crutches, to everlasting glory. She will recover, to suffer 
 more pain, and peddle pin-cushions to procure some of 
 the conveniences of life, which cannot be distributed in 
 public alms-houses. O ! it is astonishing that the heirs of 
 heaven should be found in such circumstances; that the 
 friends of Jesus, who are to share the felicity of heaven 
 with him, should be made meet for glory, through extreme 
 humiliation! 
 
 The other person is a younger widow, whose hands and 
 feet, having been frozen, are now in the state of progres- 
 sive putrefaction. She sent me a message, requesting me 
 to visit her; but it was apparently in vain. Her agony 
 was unutterable. Her eyes were swollen, and horribly 
 wild, as if ready to burst from their sockets. I asked if 
 I should pray with her, and she shrieked out, ''O yes! 
 yes! yes!" but while I spake, her agony and groans must 
 have excluded both hearing and reflection. Such an hour 
 of human misery as this, I never before witnessed. But 
 if such are the torments of this life, what must be the ex- 
 cruciating agonies of the accursed in the life everlasting? 
 
 January 1 1 th. 
 At the moment of my entering the hospital, this morn- 
 ing, Dixon died. Intemperance in drinking was the 
 cause of his premature death. About three weeks since 
 he lost his appetite, and continued to drink for several 
 days, until he could retain nothing on his stomach. While 
 he was a servant in the institution, the superintendent 
 
 c 2 
 
30 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 often warned and entreated him. He denied that excess 
 was the cause of his sickness; but when he found that he 
 must die, he became greatly alarmed, and confessed the 
 sin of slow and certain suicide. Since his last sickness, I 
 have once preached in the ward where he lay, and sung 
 the third part of the 107th psalm. The second verse was 
 a probe which reached to his heart; but it was necessary. 
 
 " The drunkard feels his vitals waste, 
 Yet drowns his health to please his taste; 
 *TilI all his active powers are lost, 
 And fainting- life draws near the dust." 
 
 I could not serve the dead, and therefore I directed my 
 attention to the living. Mrs. B. B. desired to see me. 
 She is a woman of too fair a face and form for any one to 
 possess in this licentious city, who is not, by a refined 
 education, or by the fear of God, guarded against tempta- 
 tion. Such has been her conduct, that her husband has 
 some time since refused toprotect her. When I approach- 
 ed the unhappy woman, she began to weep aloud, and ap- 
 peared to see in me the messenger of death, instead of 
 a minister of peace. She has probably seen the ministers 
 of Jesus at the bed of death, and in few other places. 
 *' O sir, it is too late for me now! I have rejected religion, 
 and it's too late now!" Such were her exclamations. 
 They induced me to state the character and faith of Mary 
 Magdalen, and the penitent thief. " The hour of sickness 
 is indeed a miserable time to transact the business of 
 eternity; but while life remains, it is never too late to con- 
 sider, believe, repent, and escape to the ark of a sinner's 
 safety." She promised to pray. Should she really pray for 
 mercy, she will be saved. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 31 
 
 The asylum for maniacs, in this city, is an appendag^e 
 to the New-York hospital. Both institutions are under 
 the same honourable governors, and the same superinten- 
 dent. Consider them both as one establishment, and one 
 more benevolent, or better regulated, for the relief of the 
 sick and insane, cannot be found in Am.erica. The asy- 
 lum was opened for the reception of patients on July 15th, 
 A. D. 1808. Testerday it became the asylum of Miss 
 Lanse, who may never leave it, until she takes her silent 
 departure to the grave. The circumstances which pro- 
 duced her insanity are interesting. She was born in Eng- 
 land, and last week arrived in New-York. Her mother, 
 with four children, of whom this young lady, of about 
 eighteen years of age, is the eldest, came to this country 
 iV pursuit of her husband. On the passage, Miss Lanse 
 w\s much reduced by the sickness incident to alongvoy- 
 ag^ In addition to this, there were in the ship's compa- 
 ny t\yo comedians, who played a very censurable farce; 
 whicV may terminate more tragically than they would 
 wishA What were their motives I know not; but the part 
 they a\ted shall be recorded to their infamy. Shortly 
 before tWir arrival in this country, these ''teachers of 
 morality'Y^y mimicry, ornamented themselves Avith the 
 glory of tf'eir art, masks and touchwood; and with the 
 disguise, or in the real character of villains, entered the 
 female apartment in the darkness of midnight. Miss 
 Lanse was aroused from her feverish slumbers, and fright- 
 ened into paroxysms, of frequent return, and long continu- 
 ance. She had not recovered from these fits, when she 
 landed in America. Then they, who sought a husband 
 and a father, had to learn that a few days since he embark- 
 ed for England. Such was the anxiety of the eldest 
 
32 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 daughter, for herself, for her mother, and her sisters, 
 that while the mother was gone to the theatre with the 
 newly imported actors, and the daughter was left in a 
 strange boarding-house, in a strange land, her fits return- 
 ed, and a delirium supervened. She is now so frantic, 
 as to be confined in the maniac*s chair. Consolation can- 
 not be offered; but the hearts that feel can pray, that the 
 God of mercy would pity the lost female maniac. 
 
 As for these actors, it is their trade to beguile the peo- 
 ple of their senses, or frighten them to madness. I would 
 ask the wise, if these mischievous lunatics ought to go at 
 large? Could one of these comedians take Miss Lanse's 
 place, and deliver her from the strait waiscoat, it would 
 be a mild retribution. In the asylum are many persons 
 not more insane than those who, during the present season, 
 support a drunken buffoon, to the tune of fourteen 
 THOUSAND DOLLARS PER ANNUM. Any sobcr countrymau 
 will pronounce this as incredible, as that a Frenchman in 
 yonder walls should believe every dirty scroll of paper 
 which he finds, either a bank-note or obligation in his 
 favour. Both cases of delirium, however, actually exist. 
 
 The afternoon of this day I devoted, in part, to the 
 instruction of two persons in Bridewell, who are under 
 sentence of death, for the crime of murder. One is a 
 German, of seventy-seven years, and the other a man of 
 colour. The first had his Testament in his hand, appeared 
 very devout, and while I prayed, wrung his hands, smote 
 them together, and gave repeatedly the loud Amen; but 
 denied the crime of which he stood legally convicted. 
 The man of colour was very ignorant, and a short time 
 since did not know, that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, 
 are one God. He sat pensive on the floor, with his back 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 against the wall, and his feet chained, directly opposite to 
 his companion. He confessed that he was worthy of death, 
 because he did stab a man, while he did not positively 
 design to kill him. In this respect he conducted as those 
 do, who reject offered mercy, continue in sin, abuse the 
 day of grace, and rivet their chains by unbelief, while they 
 do not positively design to murder their own souls. They 
 destroy themselves, because they are willing to continue 
 impenitent and risk the consequences. The black man, 
 however, appears much more like a penitent, than his 
 wretched fellow-prisoner. Would to God that all sinners 
 could believe that they are really condemned already! 
 Did they know this, they would know also, that their 
 future salvation depends upon the acceptance of pardon 
 through the blood of Jesus Christ. Impenitent sinners 
 are not only under condemnation, but imprisoned, or shut 
 up to the necessity of being delivered by one, mighty to 
 save. They are shut up to the hope of the Gospel, and ex- 
 cluded from every other hope. 
 
 January \2>th. 
 
 "Want, and incurable disease, (fell pair,) 
 On hopeless multitudes remorseless seize 
 At once; and make a refuge of the grave. 
 How groaning hospitals eject their dead! 
 Wliat numbers groan for sad admission there! 
 What numbers, once in fortune's lap high-fed. 
 Solicit the cold hand of charity!'* — Yoxruro. 
 
 About one hundred persons were present while I 
 preached in the hospital this morning, and the door of the 
 ward opposite to that in which I stood, was open, so that 
 
34 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 about fifteen wretched females could hear, who were on 
 beds of disease, planted with thorns. After service, one 
 of them requested me to call and pray with her, which 
 gave me the opportunity of addressing many of this 
 almost hopeless class of human beings. The woman who 
 was the principal object of my visit, is the descendant of 
 a respectable family, but has for many years been discard- 
 ded by all her relatives. After a life of dissipation, she is 
 about to close her mortal career in the common sewer of 
 the vilest. Verily, verily, '*the way of transgressors is 
 hard." While speaking the words of life, I stood beside 
 the miserable B. B. who seemed eagerly gasping after 
 that truth which is life from the dead. Many other pa- 
 tients were unusually attentive; and when I passed from 
 ward to ward, I found many reading the*iioly Scriptures. 
 This is a favourable omen. 
 
 In the afternoon I preached in the ward of blind persons 
 in the alms-house. About thirty persons who are bereft 
 of sight attend on my ministry. Among them is a person 
 called Blind George, who regularly officiates as my clerk. 
 He has never had vision since he had the small-pox, and 
 then he was only a few years of age. He has lived about 
 thirty years; has a retentive memory, and,a very fine voice 
 for church music. What he hears sung, he can sing again; 
 and what he hears read, he will very soon repeat. Com- 
 m:only I pronounce two lines of a hymn, but sometimes 
 three, and even four, and he will sing them with little 
 mistake. From some pious Methodists, who have occa- 
 sionally frequented this institution, when neglected by all 
 others, he has learned many sacred songs. He is remark- 
 able for adapting his notes to the words. Never does he 
 set a plaintive sentiment to a sprightly air; and never, as 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 do many of his brother choristers, does he name the tune 
 *' mortality" for a song of exultation in redeeming grace. 
 It is, indeed, a matter of gratitude, that the blind can be 
 directed in their solemn songs by such a leader; and many 
 are the hours which could not be employed in sight, that 
 are now devoted to the sounds of celestial praise. 
 
 Since I was at the alms-house last, two persons have 
 resigned their spirits to God, the Judge. 
 
 January \4ith. 
 Early this morning, the woman of ill fame who yester- 
 day requested me to pray with her, resigned her mortal 
 life. She was rational to the last moment, and often said, 
 after I left her, that she knew she was an exceedingly 
 vile sinner, but could not help entertaining some feeble 
 hope that God would pardon her sins through Jesus Christ. 
 Her present state is known to God alone; but possibly she 
 may have entered the kingdom of heaven, while such as 
 trust in themselves that they are righteous, shall be for 
 ever excluded. At the same time, it is lamentable, that 
 in the same room in which she died, are many sinners of 
 the same class, sensible only of their animal agonies, 
 without the fear of God; without hope in his mercy. 
 One of them, however, whose sufferings are very acute, 
 acknowledges, 
 
 " His strokes are fewer than her crimes. 
 And lighter than her guilt." 
 
 January 17 th. 
 A member of the ** society for the relief of poor widows 
 with small children," Mrs. Levi Coit, took me this morn- 
 
36 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 ing to visit a sick person, supported by this benevolent 
 institution. It is a pleasure to the good, to know that 
 the ladies vi^ho have espoused the cause of the widow and 
 fatherless babes, regard with tenderness the spiritual, as 
 well as the temporal situation of their respective charges. 
 
 This poor widow is not past the age of thirty-five years; 
 but she is trembling on the verge of the grave. She said 
 to me, " not long since, I had a very pretty visit from the 
 
 Rev. Mr. , who told me he would administer the 
 
 sacrament to me at any time I should desire." This 
 prepared the way to ascertain the reason of the hope which 
 she indulged. She did not fear hell, she said, because 
 there was no such place as hell; but she believed that all 
 would in future have some punishment, and some reward, 
 according to their deserts. She added, that she had al- 
 ways done as well as she could, and was therefore per- 
 suaded that God would not punish her much. 
 
 Such was the faith of a woman, who was invited to 
 celebrate the offering of the great Sacrifice for our sins. 
 Had she knowledge to discern the Lord's body ? 
 
 While I was with her. I spent my time in attempting to 
 convince her, that if God should punish any person ac- 
 cording to his deserts, he would be completely miserable; 
 that one sin not pardoned, would entail the curse of the 
 law upon all succeeding ages; that all the impenitent and 
 unbelieving shall be turned into hell; that she had not done 
 as well as she could, in the sense in which she pretended 
 that she had; that as a sinner she had done no good; that 
 she was likely soon to die, (which she almost resented!) 
 and that she must be everlastingly miserable, if God did 
 not impute the perfect righteousness of Christ to her, 
 which should become hers, through his grace and her 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 37 
 
 faith. These were hard doctrines, but if they are not bless- 
 ed of God, to her spiritual life, she must remain proud 
 of her own performances, dead in trespasses and sins. The 
 doctrine of a sinner's being declared legally just, while 
 in himself unjust, and accepted as pure, on account of the 
 obedience and sufferings of Christ, while in himself im- 
 pure, was a new doctrine to her, which she has yet to 
 learn. Her attention was so far gained to these subjects, 
 that she earnestly entreated me to call again. 
 
 This morning I have also prayed with Mrs. B. B. in 
 the hospital. She declines in bodyj but from fear, or 
 some other principle, she spends the greater part of her 
 days and nights in ejaculatory prayer. The unfortunate 
 Miss Lanse is thought to be better; and some prospect 
 remains of her being restored to reason. Still I say, the 
 comedians played a tragical farce. 
 
 In the evening, a room in the alms-house was again my 
 church. All were attentive. Many on each side of me 
 were on beds of sickness, and several were near the close 
 of life. Who would not have been affected at such a sight? 
 Many have frequented this place of suffering with me, and 
 have been so much overcome by their emotions, as to be 
 unable to speak. Once I could weep; but of late I have 
 been so conversant with disease and death, that my feel- 
 ings are somewhat blunted. Instead of obtaining relief 
 by the free perspiration of grief, my heart swells and burns 
 with an unremitting fever. After public worship was con- 
 cluded, a warm debate arose about the nomination of the 
 ward in which I should next preach. Seven or eight aged 
 women were entreating for their turn next, and naming 
 the number of their sick for arguments. In most of the 
 rooms are several who cannot move; and from these I 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
38 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 receive messages, entreaties, and gentle remonstrances. 
 What can I do but serve them all in rotation ? When I 
 was leaving the room, many poor creatures half raised 
 themselves from bed, to make their obeisance to a fellow- 
 worm, and express their fears, that since so many beset 
 me, they should not soon obtain another sermon. *'Be 
 patient, be patient,'* was the replyj but it really requires 
 great patience in sickness, to be destitute of the consola- 
 tion of a preached gospel. Many supplicate the divine 
 blessing on me, in such a manner as fully to induce the 
 belief, that they love the messenger for the sake of the 
 message. 
 
 It did indeed move my soul, in descending from the 
 fourth floor of the house, to see my blind hearers feeling 
 their way down the stairs. One of them, a girl of seven- 
 teen, born blind, was pressed away from the balustrade by 
 the crowd, and was necessitated to move her hand around 
 the wall of the whole entry, to gain the next descent. Some 
 of the blind had palsied, halting leaders, and some without 
 any guide but a staff, passed down one wing of the build- 
 ing, over the yard, and up into the western apartments. 
 Could any one expect these blind persons to find their way 
 to the churches in the city? Or must they perish for want 
 of spiritual vision ? God forbid. 
 
 January 19M. 
 **The pitying robber, conscious that, pursu'd, 
 He had no time to waste, yet stood and view*d; 
 To the next cot the trembling infant bore, 
 And gave a part of what he stole before; 
 Nor known to him the wretches were, nor dear,- 
 He felt as man, and dropped a human tear." — Laitghoakz. 
 The distinction frequently made between the power of 
 
VISITS OF MF.KCY. 39 
 
 sympathy^ and ihe conviction of duty, is important. Even 
 the voluptuary will weep in the theatre, when a lovely 
 person is represented to be ruined by the seductions of 
 taste, the blandishments of a fascinating youth, and the 
 promises of an ardent, but faithless lover. Represent 
 misery to the man who makes gold his idol, and you may 
 not unfrequently excite a violent commotion in his soul 
 between the passions of avarice and sympathy. These 
 same men, however, will produce and continue the misery, 
 at the representation of which they felt commiseration 
 for the unhappy. 
 
 The man o^ feeling, without religion, when the aether of 
 his imagination pours liquid fire through his veins, rushes 
 om, heedless of consequences^ and shame, poverty, disease, 
 and even hell, are phantoms to him. He is an unrestrain- 
 ed libertine. But when the flames have consumed their 
 present store of combustibles,he feels again like something 
 human. When cool, approach him with a tale of wo, 
 and he is mild in tone, and tender in his actions. He gives 
 with liberality: but such feeling as the wounded animal 
 excites in a brute companion, is the sole excitement to his 
 charity. Benevolence, which becomes a rational being, 
 and which God will approve, is a consistent, habitual re- 
 gard for the welfare of others, which is manifested by cor- 
 responding actions. Sympathy is natural and amiablej 
 but benevolence, when exercised by a fallen man, is super- 
 natural and holy. Would to God that the two were united 
 in every human heart) Possibly both have been exercised 
 in the relief of a certain poor widow, whose husband, a 
 carman, died about a year since; leaving her, after she 
 had defrayed the expenses of his sickness and burial, 
 nothing for her support, but ten children. Four of these 
 
40 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 are able to provide for themselves, and one or two can 
 give some assistance to the mother, by tending; the four 
 younger children, while the mother washes or sews for 
 the necessaries of life. For eight months I have known 
 this woman and her family. She is a professor of religion; 
 and more, she is pious. Her children are neat and indus- 
 trious. For a single room she pays twenty-five dollars, 
 yearly rent; and earns a part of this by sewing nankeen 
 pantaloons and common shirts, /or Me eighth of a dollar for 
 each garment. This I find to be the common price of job- 
 work; so that the poor widows who will support them- 
 selves, must be content with one shilling, while the pur- 
 chasers pay many shillings for the same work. All who sell 
 ought to have lawful gain, but the poor, who perform the 
 work, ought to receive at least half of that sum which is 
 charged for making of apparel. Some of the children at- 
 tend that benevolent institution, "The New York Free 
 School," and if the Lord shall spare them, I doubt not will 
 make useful mechanics. When this widow was in her 
 most destitute condition, before she could gather some- 
 thing to begin the world anew, with her fatherless chil- 
 dren, a young man of generous, native feelings, who never 
 saw her, sent five dollars for her relief. This same man of 
 tenderness, however, gave that for which he was indebted, 
 and soon after defrauded many of his friends. Alas ! alas ! 
 why had not this youth benevolence, as well as sympathy p 
 Another young man, who is poor indeed, but whom Pro- 
 vidence has hitherto protected, has more than once di- 
 vided with the family, when almost destitute of wood and 
 bread, his last dollar. The pride of doing good, or sym- 
 pathy, or something else^ may have actuated him. God 
 searches his heart. 
 
VISITS OF MEKOY. 41 
 
 To give to the street beggars of this city, is not well 
 directed charity. Those persons who have large families, 
 who make great exertions to live out of the alms-house, 
 when they are almost driven into it by want, are the pro- 
 per objects for pecuniary assistance. 
 
 The wind blew the piercing cold from the norths but 
 the southern sun illuminated the abode of the widow. The 
 children had recovered their ruddy countenances, and 
 were seated round a frugal fire. They had a little wood 
 still remaining and a loaf of bread in reserve. The widow 
 was restored to her wonted strength, from the debility 
 induced by long watchings with misery^ and contentment 
 was in her countenance. This sight gave new vigour to 
 a heart which had been depressed with the remembrance 
 of wretchedness which it could not dispel. It encouraged 
 me to take a missionary tour through some of the wards 
 in the alms-house. 
 
 Here I saw one of my aged friends, to whom might be 
 applied Milton's description of honourable old age. 
 
 " So may*st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop 
 
 Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease 
 
 Gathered, not harshly pluck'd, for Death mature. 
 
 This is old age: but then thou must outlive 
 
 Thy youth, thy streng-th, thy beauty, which will change 
 
 To witherM, weak, and gray; thy senses then 
 
 Obtuse, all sense of pleasure must forego. 
 
 To what thou hast: and for the air of youth, 
 
 Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood wiU reign 
 
 A melancholy damp of cold and dry. 
 
 To weigh thy spirits down. " 
 
 At my request, she repeated thirty or forty stanzas of 
 different hymns, which she learned in childhood and youth. 
 
 D 2 
 
42 VISITS OF MEROY. 
 
 Some of these hymns have been remembered by her for a 
 century. She was born in Berwick upon the Tweed, 
 lived some time in London, was a hearer of Mr. Whitefield 
 there, and came to this city long, she does not remember 
 how long-, before the revolutionary war. Her maiden name 
 was Christiana Ritchie, but she is now the widow Webb, 
 having had only one husband in a life of one hundred and 
 three years. Being disposed to converse familiarly with 
 all, to gain their confidence, I one day said, as any man 
 might speak to an aged friend, in health, *'But why did 
 you not marry a second time.^" She answered, with a smile, 
 that she was old when her husband died; that they had al- 
 ways lived in peace; and that she was " afraid to try an- 
 other, lest he should not be so good." There is not a 
 more cheerful person of my acquaintance, in the world. 
 It is good to see such an aged saint, and hear her. bless 
 God for the goodness of a century. The hymns and scenes 
 of her childhood are fresh in her memory; but most inter- 
 mediate things, saving the general remembrance of God*s 
 love, have vanished from her mind. To the remark, 
 ** You appear still to love God," she replied," Aye! whom 
 have I to love better than him! I would not be without his 
 love, and love to him, for a thousand worlds!" She de- 
 lights in religious conversation, and public worship. 
 When her nurse told her that I was to preach in her room 
 to-morrow, she said, " Well, I am very glad, Sir; and 
 may God give you instruction, that you may instruct us." 
 To-day the German convict seemed more tender and 
 sensible of his situation than when I saw him last; but 
 still insisted upon his innocence in relation to the murder. 
 The other convict was also deeply affected at the exhibi- 
 tion of a merciful Saviour; but when men expect death in 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 43 
 
 less than a week, and their sins arise in horrible array 
 against them, it is difficult to distinguish filial fear irora 
 the slavish dread o^ God. The one is a saving grace of the 
 Holy Spirit; and the other, an actual infliction of a part 
 of the wrath and curse of God due to sin. Terrors of a 
 guilty conscience are inflicted penalties of a violated law. 
 If then the penalties of the law are partially inflicted here, 
 who dares to say, "there is no hell?" 
 
 January 20th. 
 
 The room in which I preached in the hospital this 
 morning, was very full, and all were attentive. By the 
 assistance of a few young friends, I was enabled to pre- 
 sent the patients with some hymn books, to be detained 
 in the institution, which were received and used with 
 great pleasure. It was a matter of regret, that I could 
 not present more of the excellent '* Hartford Collection." 
 
 Between the hours of 11 and 12 o'clock, my time was 
 devoted to the men who are to be executed. At their 
 united request, prayer was addressed to the throne of 
 grace. The German shifted his chains so as to arise on 
 his kneesj and the man of colour bowed his head in awful 
 depression. Both of them appeared to feel that their 
 last sabbath had dawned on them, and expressed a desire 
 to remember past privileges, and improve the present 
 moment, by singing the praises of God. Several persons 
 were in company with me, and the prisoners, as well as 
 they could, united with us in singing: 
 
 *• Come, humble sinner, in whose breast 
 
 A thousand thoughts revolve; 
 Come, with your guilt and fear opprest. 
 
 And make this last resolve: 
 
44 VISITS OF MEROY. 
 
 I'll go to Jesus, though my sin 
 
 Hath like a mountain rose; 
 I know his courts, 1*11 enter in, 
 
 Whatever may oppose." 
 
 During public worship in the alms-house this after- 
 noon, the woman of 103 years sat before me, and said she 
 could perfectly understand me. I read a hymn to which 
 she had been accustomed in youth, and which I knew she 
 could repeat. It gave her so much pleasure, that she 
 involuntarily lifted up her hands, and said in the hearing 
 of all, "O, that's a fine hymn!" But how different are the 
 dispensations of Providence! Catharine Welsh, a woman 
 of 96 years, sat beside me also, but has become so much 
 of a child as to understand nothing. Indeed, she differs 
 from an infant only in her form, and the love of taking 
 snuff. This habit has survived the exercise of all her 
 mental faculties. 
 
 George, my blind clerk, was delighted with the present 
 of a hymn book. " Of what use," a stranger might ask, 
 "will it be to him?" While he owns it, he will have the 
 satisfaction which all desire, of calling something his pro- 
 perty. Besides, he can now persuade others to amuse 
 some of his solitary hours, by reading to him; who, were 
 they in possession, would read only to themselves. Two 
 books were presented for the use of two other rooms; and 
 strong solicitations came thick upon me for the other 
 wards. I have not the power to gratify them; but must 
 resort to those who have, at least, a little silver and gold. 
 It is more painful to ask, than to bestow, I have found by 
 experience; and witness, angels, if ever I beg a cent in 
 any other name than that of the Lord Jesus Christ. Had 
 he not been poor, one might be ashamed of poverty; but 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 45 
 
 for him a Christian can beg, without deeming it a degra- 
 dation. 
 
 When leaving the room, I said to Mary L****, a blind 
 woman, **well, Mary, I hope it was some consolation for 
 you to hear; for faith Cometh by hearing'* She replied in an 
 instant, *'it is better to bf^ieve than to see; but I hope to see 
 in the next worlds and among others, since I have been 
 comforted by your words, I greatly desire to see the preacher 
 there.'* Verily, it was the divine design that the gospel 
 should be preached to the poor, that their profiting might 
 appear to all for the manifestation of his benevolence. 
 
 In addition to the other employments of this day, I have 
 enjoyed the communion of saints, and inflicted pain on my 
 own mind, by chastising an infidel. His infidelity is to be 
 hated^ but it is painful to wound the personal feelings of 
 any being. 
 
 The communion was doubly dear, from the circum- 
 stance that Christians of different sections of the Presby- 
 terian church, under the pastoral care of the Rev. J. B. 
 Romeyn, D. D., and the Rev. J. M. Mason, D. D., who 
 never united before in the breaking of bread, were seated 
 at the same table, to commemorate the death of their 
 common Saviour. They have happily discovered, that 
 brethren who love the same Lord, agree in the same faith, 
 serve the same master, and love one another, may testify 
 to the world that they commune with one another, in de- 
 fiance of the warfare waged by names. 
 
 The church in Cedar-street, and the third Associate 
 Reformed church, with many individuals of other sec- 
 tions of the Christian community, deserve the thanks of 
 the whole church, for the discovery, that the word Scotch 
 is not the test of religious fellowships and that the mem- 
 
46 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 bers of the same mystical body, who are born of the 
 Spirit, may descend, according to the flesh, from High- 
 land, Lowland, English, Irish, Dutch, French, German, 
 or American ancestry. Long live this friendly intercourse 
 between children of the same family and the same faith! 
 Multitudes may enter heaven ,/ith whom the churches 
 ought not to commune, lest they should encourage the 
 errors of the saints; but where the same gospel is support- 
 ed, there should be visible union and co-operation. When 
 any religious society advocates another gospel, (** which is 
 not another,'* for there is no gospel besides one,) God save 
 the members of that church, but confound their false doc- 
 trines, so that the whole fraternity of heretics may find as 
 many difficulties to impede the erection of their system, 
 as obstructed the building of its prototype, Babel. 
 
 The infidel, whom I attacked in the evening, deserved 
 severe rebuke. His late conduct was the proper subject 
 for the lash of scorpions. Not long since he had the 
 courage to attack the Christian faith of a very amiable 
 lady, and ridiculed her hope, because, forsooth, he had 
 been a traveller, had visited Judea, and was qualified to 
 attest that the history of Jesus Christ is a fiction. It was 
 known to the writer, that this boaster had been retailing 
 that knowledge, which is contained in the primer of infi- 
 delity, " The Age of Reason;" and if it is honourable for 
 a deist to commence hostilities, it is not dishonourable 
 for a Christian, when opportunity permits, to cut and 
 thrust with the sword of the Spirit. 
 
 «• Are there, (still more amazing !) who resist 
 The rising thought ? who smother, in its birth, 
 The glorious truth ? who struggle to be brutes !" 
 Who through this bosom-barrier burst their way; 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 47 
 
 And, with reverst ambition, strive to sink i 
 
 Who labour downwards through the opposing powers 
 
 Of instinct, reason, and the world against them. 
 
 To dismal hopes, and shelter in the shock 
 
 Of endless night ? " 
 
 Samson Occum, the Indian preacher, after a long con- 
 test with an Universalist, terminated the controversy, by 
 saying, '* Well, well, remember, if you are correct, I am 
 safe : if you are not correct, I am safe : I have two strings 
 to my bow; you have but one." This was related, and ap- 
 plied to the argumentation between the friends and the 
 enemies of divine revelation. **He is a friend," said I, 
 ** neither to himself, nor to others, who would deprive 
 any Christian of support under afflictions, and consola- 
 tion in death, by shaking his faith in the system of Chris- 
 tianity. The religion of Jesus can injure no one; and 
 were it a delusion, I would gladly cherish it in preference 
 to despair; I would support it, merely for the advantages 
 it affords in the hour of dissolution, until a better source 
 of consolation should be substituted in its place." My 
 friend, the amiable lady, related the anecdote of Hume's 
 mother, who desired her son to restore to her, on the bed 
 of sickness, the consolation of which he had deprived her, 
 by making her a sceptic. After this severe, but gentle, 
 reproof was given, our conversation was terminated. 
 This bold and ferocious fellow, who could worry a lamb, 
 would not even defend himself against an equal. He heard 
 the whole, discovered considerable agitation, attempted 
 to divert the course of conversation, but opened not his 
 mouth in favour of his own opinions. Impudence and 
 cowardice often co-exist in the same breast. 
 
 Of the truth of this remark, I have additional evidence. 
 
48 VISITS OF MERCT. 
 
 Not long since, I called on a friend, who, from great ur- 
 banity, and regard to the acquaintances of his childhood, 
 entertained two persons at his table, who were avowed 
 deists. They had been educated in religious families; 
 had removed to one of the southern states, and were now 
 men of consequence, because they possessed five or six 
 hundred slaves. Their dignity is commensurate with 
 their plantations, and tlieir honours have been multiplied 
 at the birth of every negro or mulatto child. Since they 
 left "the land of steady habits," the sabbath has been the 
 day of their amusements; and deeds, at which they shud- 
 dered in youth, have become familiar by practice. To 
 quiet their consciences, they have concluded, very philo- 
 sophically, to believe nothing. Of course, no truth which 
 they believe, can condemn their unhallowed indulgences. 
 
 When I entered the room, the gentlemen were near the 
 end of the desert. It was the time for every man to ex- 
 pose his whole heart. After denying the divine institu- 
 tion of the sabbath, and the inspiration of the Scriptures, 
 one of these mighty men of the plantation turned to me, 
 and said, *' Christianity has made more damned rascals, 
 than all other religions under heaven." With indigna- 
 tion, I arose to leave the room, and said, *' It is false! it 
 is false, sir!" He arose too, in terrible wrath, exclaim- 
 ing, "I demand explanation, sir, or satisfaction! We do 
 not suffer such language in the country where I live." 
 
 "An explanation I am ready to give. What you have 
 said is utterly false; is a base aspersion on Christianity." 
 
 Upon this he swore, with the oath of a bully, that I was 
 a fellow of low breeding. "You must be," I rejoined, 
 seating myself with a smile of contempt for his baseness, 
 *'a gentleman of refined education and manners, to tell 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 49 
 
 your host, who is a ruler in the church, and his two 
 friends, who are ministers of the gospel, that the system 
 which they espouse, and on which they build their hope 
 of everlasting life, is a system of knavery which makes 
 men rascals." The Rev. Mr. Hall, who had remained si- 
 lent, upon this disclosure took his departure^ but having 
 entered the lists, I felt constrained to add, ''I shall affirm 
 that your assertion is false, until you show some doctrine, 
 precept, or promise in the gospel, which countenances de- 
 ception and licentiousness." 
 
 In this critical juncture, as became the wight, he gave 
 me to understand, that in spite of a black coat, I must 
 meet him; and his brother infidel volunteered his services 
 as an honourable friend, — I suppose to carry the powder- 
 horn and bullet-bag. My friend the elder, was unfortu- 
 nately so deaf, that he did not distinctly understand the 
 conversation; and of course, the Rev. Mr. Hall being ab- 
 sent, no one offered his services as my armour-bearer in 
 the dreadful conflict. My answer was, 
 
 "I am ready to meet you, sir, and shall meet you now, 
 with no other weapons than those of truth and conscience. 
 I did not say that you was a liar, but that your assertion 
 was false. Every lie is 2i falsehood, but every falsehood is 
 NOT a lie. What is not true is false, and an untruth may 
 be spoken, from ignorance or prejudice, as well as a dis- 
 position to deceive. I have not said that you spoke con- 
 trary to your belief: for I know not your thoughts; but 
 you have uttered what is untrue: for Christianity has no 
 tendency to make bad men." 
 
 After I met the man in this manner, he asked my pardon; 
 said he did not know we were clergymen, and excused 
 his conduct by pleading the violence of his native passions. 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
50 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 Finally, he made his retreat, by alleging, that he intended 
 to say, "more deceivers have assumed Christianity for a 
 cloak, than any other religion." To this I consented, 
 and to this only, '' that many rascals pretend to be chris- 
 tians, who were rascals before, created by infidelity, and 
 are not improved by the religion of Jesus, because they 
 have not felt it.'* When departing from the room, he of- 
 fered me his hand, and I left him, with the expression of 
 my desire that he might feel the influences of Christianity, 
 and experience its blessings. 
 
 When I related this anecdote to a pious wit, he said, 
 you should not have contradicted him; you should have 
 said, "true, Christianity has made more damned, — rascals, 
 all rascals, than all other systems of doctrine." The re- 
 mark which I made in my own mind, after leaving the 
 company, I would propose as a moral to my kindred ac- 
 cording to the flesh. 
 
 mien a young man discards the pious customs of his native 
 placCj^and the faith of his christian ancestors, he commonly be- 
 comes one of the vilest of the vile. 
 
 January 24th. 
 
 There is a woman of colour, now in the hospital, who 
 has been dreadfully mangled by her husband. He had 
 been often deranged in mind, by the stimulant eff'ect of 
 ardent spirits; and on the night of her sufferings, said 
 that Jesus commanded him to sacrifice her. He stabbed 
 her in several places in the head, and cut her hands, which 
 made resistance until the blade of the knife was broken in 
 the bloody conflict. Her throat was also gashed in seve- 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 51 
 
 ral places^ but in all this struggle for life, she did not cry 
 so loud as to alarm the family, which slept directly over 
 head. Groans were heard indeed, in the morning, and 
 the neighbours coming in, found the poor creature Avith 
 her hands on the wounds, and the floor wet with blood. 
 Her reason for not making more complaint was, a convic- 
 tion that her husband knew not what he did; and a fear 
 that he would be executed, while an impenitent sinner. 
 She now discovers great concern for the soul of her hus- 
 band; and while she knows that the physicians despair 
 of her life, is anxious that prayer should be off'ered for 
 his pardon, rather than for her own recovery. She has 
 but little knowledge; she suffers extremely, and yet her 
 confidence in the wisdom of God might well be the object 
 of imitation; and her peace, the desire of the learned and 
 aiRuent. 
 
 With the criminals I found many persons, who appear 
 to have more disposition than ability to teach; for many 
 good men are poorly qualified to indoctrinate the ignorant. 
 With one consent, exertion was made by these persons to 
 prevent the poor convicts from doubting of their good 
 estate. They really appeared to think that to die in the 
 persuasion of acceptance, from whatever source that per- 
 suasion was derived, was actually to die in safety, to sleep 
 in Jesus. Without any direct attack upon those who 
 claimed the honour of having converted Johnson and Sin- 
 clair, it was my endeavour seriously and rationally to 
 convince them from the word of God, of their own sin^ 
 of the righteousness which is in Christ Jesus, and of the 
 judgment which is to come, that by a divine blessing they 
 might possess contrite hearts. 
 
 Besides the word of exhortation in the alms-house this 
 
52 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 morning, it was an unfeigned pleasure to give several 
 more hymn books for the use of the destitute wards. 
 
 January 2Sih, 
 
 " So bad a death argues a monstrous life. 
 Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. 
 Close up his eyes, and draw the. curtains round. 
 And let us all to meditation." Shakspeajie. 
 
 The cell of the murderers was this morning opened at an 
 early hour for all ministers of the gospel, who pleased, to 
 enter and give instruction. To gratify a wish which the 
 criminals had previously expressed, I visited them, among 
 many teachers of different denominations. Two German 
 ministers devoted themselves to their unhappy country- 
 man, who confessed perhaps all his sins but that for which 
 he was to be executed, and with many tears followed them 
 in their forms of prayer. Several persons who had, I 
 would hope, pious intentions, assured Johnson that he 
 was converted, that all his sins were unquestionably par- 
 doned, and that now he had nothing to do but sing hymns 
 of assurance and triumph. He was exhorted again and 
 again to say that he was confident^ and that he had no fear 
 of death. To this poor prisoner of hope, were devoted 
 all my attentions, because he confided in me, solicited my 
 last advice^ and because I thought it more important that 
 he should be prepared for death, than that he should think 
 or say, *'I have already attained." 
 
 While his friends were insisting upon the song of Halle- 
 lujah, he frequently turned to me, and asked, " How shall 
 I pray? What shall be my last prayer ?" Having explain^ 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 53 
 
 ed the nature of sin, and of Christ's satisfaction for trans- 
 gression, the hope was expressed that he would die with 
 the prayer of the publican in his heart. When the sing- 
 ings men gave a short intermission, I proposed the 51st 
 psalm; 
 
 " Show pity Lord, O Lord forgive, 
 
 Let a repenting rebel live;" 
 
 and the words seemed perfectly consonant to his feelings. 
 A dying penitent will always prefer confession and petition, 
 to confident declarations of his own sincerity. 
 
 At the appointed hour, spectators withdrew from the 
 cell; the chains were taken off; the prisoners were array- 
 ed in white garments and caps, trimmed with black; had 
 their arms pinioned, and received the fatal rope about 
 their necks. The father and friends of Johnson then ap- 
 proached him, and gave the last embrace. The family 
 of the keeper also approached, with much tenderness, 
 and bade them farewell. When the prisoners had de- 
 scended to the yard, I designed to have left Johnson among 
 his friends, who were particularly desirous of walking 
 with him, Avhile the German brethren led Sinclair; but 
 when the cart which contained the scaffold and the coffins 
 appeared, the black man turned and inquired for me with 
 anxiety. His entreaty that I would not leave him, in- 
 duced me to see the consummation of this dreadful scene. 
 On the way to the gallows, he took my left arm, and the 
 right arm of one of his coloured brethren. Behind us 
 were many, who incessantly sung as we marched, with 
 military escort, but he seemed to regard songs as now 
 inappropriate to his circumstances. Again and again he 
 entreated me to teach him how to pray; and when I dic- 
 tated suitable expressions, he would repeat them with 
 
 E 2 
 
54 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 great fervour. He had no heart for any thing but the 
 revelation of the grace of our I^ord Jesus, and the petition, 
 *' God be merciful to me, a sinner." This he repeated 
 at almost every step. Under the gallows he was unwilling 
 that I should leave him, and when he was ascending to 
 be made fast, he said to me, ** What shall I say ? O tell 
 me my last prayer again?" Again I said, " God be merciful 
 to me, a sinner." When every thing was ready, each of 
 the criminals prayed in his own vernacular tongue. The 
 German protested his innocence to the last. Johnson con- 
 fessedj and shaking hands, while they looked up to heaven, 
 they reciprocally greeted each other saying, '' God bless 
 you: farewell." In an instant after this, Johnson perceiv- 
 ing the cartman about to drive, exclaimed, "stop! stop I 
 one minute longer^ let me pray one breath more ! "God be 
 merciful to me a sinner;" when they were suspended to- 
 gether, and together were ushered into the presence of 
 Jehovah. When Johnson uttered his last cry, almost 
 every hearer involuntarily prayed for him. Would to God 
 that we all could feel that the time for prayer is precious! 
 Would to God that all who exclaimed " God forgive him," 
 would ask, as he did, " what shall we do to be saved?" 
 
 If either of these unhappy men is now assured of his 
 salvation, the assurance has come as soon as, under their 
 circumstances, it could be expected: and if now he sings 
 "alleluia to the Lamb, doubts have fled, fear is extin- 
 guished, faith is superseded, hope is absorbed in fruition," 
 it is in the best time. To know the only true God and 
 Jesus Christ, is eternal life; but to be confident that we 
 savingly know them, is not absolutely essential. Yea, 
 such confidence^ if not founded on thorough scrutiny of reli- 
 gious experience, if not derived from a considerable 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 55 
 
 course of consistent piety, is presumption, if not damning 
 
 DELUSION. 
 
 January 26th. 
 
 *• Let us consider one another, to provoke unto love, and to good 
 works." — Paul. 
 
 Last evening a member of the Widow's Society made 
 me promise, without delay, to visit the poor woman wh'om 
 I saw on the 17th inst. It was my intention to have 
 visited her before this time; but many similar concerns 
 might have created a longer delay, had I not been, in 
 Paul's sense, provoked to the work. She had decayed 
 rapidly, and was assured of speedy dissolution. Her 
 imaginary goodness too had fled; and what she long 
 cherished, was now, in her opinion, pride, pollution, mi- 
 sery, and death. Many pious instructions had she receiv- 
 ed from her female benefactors, and she appeared now 
 to feel that she was a sinner, in perishing need of a Saviour. 
 This was the time to preach good news, and I attempted 
 with more apparent success than formerly, to show her 
 how a sinner might be just with God; but whether she be- 
 lieves to salvation, must be left to the Searcher of hearts. 
 
 January 11 th. 
 
 Last week five patients died in the hospital, and while 
 speaking there, this morning, in the presence of eight or 
 nine, who were too near the grave to arise, one died of an 
 inflammation by a broken leg. When first the bone was 
 
56 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 fractured in the line of his daily business, his wife could 
 not endure the thoughts of parting with him: but her fee- 
 ble attendance on him, surrounded by poverty and sick- 
 ness, was insufficient, and he became delirious. He has 
 left, I am informed, a worthy wife, with five small children, 
 the youngest of which is not more than three weeks of age. 
 Her name and number I have taken as a present to some 
 one of the Widow's Society. 
 
 Afternoon. After speaking in one room, I visited another 
 in the alms-house, which is full of sick persons. Their 
 misery makes me sick at heart; especially when I consider 
 that in nine cases out of ten, premature sickness comes in 
 consequence of making a god of animal appetite. One 
 man, however, of middle age, whose countenance indicates 
 past intemperance, was greatly moved by the word of 
 God. His attention has been increasing fo,r some weeks. 
 O may God bless my poor labours to the salvation of his 
 trembling soul! 
 
 Evening, The widow whoml visited yesterday, is gone. 
 Her departure I did not imagine to be so very neai'. 
 Thanks to Mrs. J. E. Caldwell, who urged my last atten- 
 tions to the dying fellow-sinner! To reciprocate her kind- 
 ness, I presented the card of the lately bereaved mother 
 of five babes, which she accepted with an assurance of 
 affording the most immediate relief within her power. 
 
 January o\st. 
 
 When I first saw blind Sally, I went at the request of 
 an elder of the Dutch church, to converse with her upon 
 the concerns of her soul. She was greatly troubled, by 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 57 
 
 reason of spiritual darkness^ and was the first person who 
 besought me to preach in the alms-house. Many weeks 
 she sat under the preaching of the word, before she found 
 consolation from faith. At length the child long before 
 brought to the birth, was brought forth into God's mar- 
 vellous light. Not long since she was admitted to the 
 full communion of the Reformed Dutch church. When 
 under examination before the consistory, she was asked 
 why she loved Christ? and immeditely replied, "we love 
 him because he first loved us." 
 
 Blind George was very attentive to the word to-night. 
 His emotions clearly indicate when he is pleased or dis- 
 pleased with a discourse; for all sermons are not alike to 
 him, nor is the last sermon always the best. He has alrea- 
 dy committed several hymns to memory since I gave him 
 a book, and he requested that I would select some new 
 ones for him to learn. This was a pleasing request; and 
 ^fter I had folded down a few leaves to guide his feeling, 
 half a dozen other hymn books were handed me for the 
 same purpose. An old woman observed to me, when she 
 presented hers, "all we blind persons take great pleasure 
 in learning as well as George." New applications were 
 jnade by old and young, for similar books, with which, 
 on account of my inability to gratify their wishes, I was 
 almost as much troubled as pleased. 
 
 It was gratifying to see another aged blind woman very 
 attentive, who formerly, when a gentleman, Mr. Baldwin, 
 who accompanied me, said in her hearing, "perhaps 
 many of these persons are more blind in spirit, than in 
 their bodily organs," discovered considerable resentment, 
 and leaving the room, exclaimed, "perhaps we are not 
 so blind, neither!" Soon. after this I togk occasion to deli^ 
 
58 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 ver a public discourse, in her hearing, from the question 
 of the spiritually blind Jews, '' are we blind also?" Since 
 that time I have often seen the tears trickle down from 
 her aged eyelids, (which having no eyeballs to cover, 
 could certainly not be devoted to a better use,) at the 
 sound of that Gospel, which offers sight to the blind, 
 hearing to the deaf, speech to the dumb, soundness to the 
 lame, and life to the dead. 
 
 When singing a hymn, which commences with these 
 lines, 
 
 " God moves in a mysterious way 
 His wonders to perform;" 
 
 I was surrounded by eight or ten boys, of about nine 
 years of age, who tuned their little musical organs to the 
 words, with all their might. The sight of their ragged 
 garments and brilliant eyes, accompanied by the remem- 
 brance that some of them are orphans, some fatherless, 
 some motherless, and others not acknowledged by any 
 earthly parent, was calculated to excite melancholy feel- 
 ings. Some of them, however, I said to myself, since 
 they are instructed at the benevolent Free School, may in 
 some future day rise to usefulness, influence, and even 
 affluence, for many have arisen from indigence to honour, 
 and have become the ornaments of society. In such a 
 frame of mind, it was more than vocal music which I 
 heard, when they sung; 
 
 *♦ Behind a frowning providence 
 
 He hides a smiling face. 
 His purposes will ripen fast, 
 
 Unfolding ev'ry hour; 
 The bud may have a bitter taste, 
 
 But sweet will be the flower.'* 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 59 
 
 February 2nd. 
 
 My journal is of necessity the record of wretchedness* 
 The unfortunate Miss Lanse is more frantic, and there is 
 very little reason Jo expect that she will ever be restored 
 to sanity. The poor black woman, who was mangled by 
 her husband, still lives, but her head seems to be a mass 
 of putrefaction. She exhibits an example of patience and 
 forgiveness, which is worthy of imitation. 
 
 Another suiferer lies in the hospital, bereft of reason, 
 
 who, not long since, went to see a tiger, which is now 
 
 exhibited in this city; and while offering the wild beast 
 
 an apple, was caught by the arm, a little above the wrist, 
 
 by the paw of the ferocious creature. The unguarded 
 
 \ prey was drawn violently against the cage, and with the 
 
 \ loss of flesh, nerves, muscles, tendons, and blood-vessels, 
 
 '■ from the arm, with difficulty made his escape. Of all 
 
 public shows, those which exhibit the works of creation 
 
 are the most proper; but it is dangerous even to stroke the 
 
 mane of a tame lion; or, in proffering a favour, to extend 
 
 the hand to a tiger. 
 
 It would be difficult to decide which was most cruel, the 
 tiger or the drunken African. 
 
 February Sd> 
 
 In the ward of the alms-house in which I preached this 
 morning, were ten bedrid females, who cannot continue 
 long in life: for they are most of them in the latter stages 
 of the consumption. A little lad, who, on Thursday 
 evening entreated me to give him a book of hymns, to- 
 
60 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 day renewed his application with great ardour. He was 
 very respectful, but very importunate. I doubted his 
 ability to read, but he soon convinced me of my mistake. 
 Two books were all I hadj and since several little boys 
 were watching the success of their companion, I pre- 
 sented one to an aged man, and put the other in my 
 pocket, for a widow, to whom I had partly promised one; 
 while I assured the children that I would soon procure 
 some smaller books for them. The little fellow was so 
 dejected that he could scarcely refrain from weeping. 
 Down I came, by the shortest passage, from the upper 
 story, to the outer door; and whom should I meet there, 
 but this same child of importunity! He had descended 
 by another stair-case into the cellar, and came up under 
 the threshold over which I was to pass. There he stood, 
 without a hat, in a storm of sleet; and plead, that he was 
 going away to the cotton factory, on the succeeding day; 
 and that he should never get a book, if I did not give him 
 one now. At first I did not know that he was to be bound 
 an apprentice, and asked, " When will you be here again?" 
 
 ^'I'm going there to live: I'll not be seen here again, 
 sir, very soon, if they use me well at the factory." 
 
 The book was his; and mine the pleasure of his pro- 
 mise, that if ever I saw him again, I should see his hymn 
 book also. The lad is sprightly; and I am persuaded, 
 from the delicacy of his complexion, and the brilliancy 
 of his eyes, that no vulgar blood runs in his veins. Who 
 can say what will be the future history of this book? It 
 will go to the factory with the lad, and there, possibly, 
 besides being of service to the owner, will be read to 
 other children, or will comfort some one infirm child of 
 God, who, being an heir of glory, to learn patience, and 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 61 
 
 have an opportunity of imitating Christ in his humilia- 
 tion, tends a cotton machine for a scanty subsistence. 
 
 In the afternoon, my audience at the hospital was un- 
 usually full and attentive. Here my hearers are frequently 
 changed. Some go in a few weeks, others come, and a 
 few remain for the greater part of a year. By death and 
 restoration, the inhabitants of one ward have been almost 
 entirely changed in three weeks. A preacher here re- 
 sembles a guide-post indeed; for he stands beside a public 
 road, multitudes pass him; he points them to the path 
 which leads to a better country, and they are soon out of 
 sight. Some of the doctrines of the cross, however, 
 Avhich are taught in this -place, may be carried in the 
 minds of the seamen to distant lands. Some mariner may 
 remember a discourse about the blessed Saviour in a 
 storm; and some forlorn female, thoughtlessly returning 
 to her former abode, may find arrows of truth fastened in 
 the mind, of which she was insensible, and which may 
 eventually give her no peace, until her polluted con- 
 science is cleansed, and her wounded heart healed, by 
 divine grace. 
 
 Several abandoned women listened to my discourse to- 
 day; and among them was a beautiful girl of only fifteen 
 years of age. It was astonishing to see so fair and young 
 a person as M. D. in such a situation. She was brought 
 to the hospital by her father, who has two other daugh- 
 ters beside this, who have been patients in this institu- 
 tion. The eldest sister led the way; the younger sisters 
 followed. In early childhood they were all left mother- 
 less; and the father, as is commonly the case with labour- 
 ing men, had no time to stand sentinel over the chastity 
 of three fair daughters. 
 
 TOL. I. F 
 
62 VISITS OF MEucy, 
 
 February 7 th. 
 
 In the course of the last week, several blind people have 
 committed a long hymn to memory, and this evening they 
 sung it: so that my blind hearers contrive to perform their 
 part of public worship with great propriety. 
 
 The little sprightly beggar of a book was gone to the 
 factory. Some of the aged men, who have been without 
 God, appear to be awakened from their stupidity, and re- 
 quested that our next meeting might be in their ward. It 
 is a singular fact, that all my public preaching hitherto 
 has been in the rooms of the female paupers, and that the 
 chief nurses of those rooms are pious. They have con- 
 tributed much to my comfort, by making their rooms 
 clean for my reception. Some unusual exertion, which 
 was much needed, has uniformly been made to purify the 
 apartments in which our assemblies have been convened. 
 If no other purification should result from our coming 
 together, this will be no trivial benefit to the poor. 
 
 February \Qth. 
 
 An aged man presented me the petition of a blind boy, 
 who desired a hymn book. The boy v/as born blind, but 
 could sing, as I before had learned, many sacred songs. 
 He can commit to memory any common chapter in the 
 Bible, by hearing it read a few times. It was decided 
 that he should have the book, which was intended for my 
 own use. 
 
 When I entered the room, I spake to the aged woman, 
 whose case I have stated under date of January 1st. She 
 expressed great gratitude to God for giving her this holy 
 
VISITS OF MKIICY. 
 
 day, and said she hoped He would give me something 
 good to give them. During the service, she was much 
 affected; and after it, bathing my hand with her tears, she 
 said, '*0 what a coot Cot I havel He give me alUhings. 
 Ho could my plessed Saviour stoop so low as me, as pick 
 up me, poor sinner! He cover my nakedness, wash me, 
 make me see, make me feel, and take me to be his! O my 
 plessed Jasus!'* I asked her if she could not read a 
 Welch Testament. She could, if she had it, and her eye- 
 sight was not almost gone. *' Well, then, I hope Christ 
 will continue to teach you by his Spirit.*' 
 
 " O he has, he does, I know he will; I can understand 
 you when you read the English Bible; as my prother the 
 minister, said, he will never leave me, he is my plessed 
 husband, the bridegroom, and my record is on high.** 
 *'Had you then a brother, who was a preacher?** 
 **You, you I mean; you pe my prother in Christ.*' 
 When I returned to my lodgings, a gentleman gave me 
 
 a book for W. R , the blind boy; so that the writer 
 
 had the pleasure of giving and receiving. 
 
 The hospital I found this afternoon unusually full. 
 Besides about sixty lunatics, it contains at present two 
 hundred and forty patients. In addition to these, there 
 are many servants and nurses in the house, who compose 
 a part of my audience. They can better attend public 
 worship here than they could any where else; because 
 when some under their care are dangerously ill, they can 
 unite in prayer, or hear the sermon, and immediately be 
 at the bed-side of their respective charges. 
 
 The'deluded child of fifteen years, M. D. was present, 
 and paid solemn attention. But she is sick now; and 
 many are seripus while ^ feyer rages in their blood, who, 
 
64 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 with returning health, return to their former stupidity. 
 This unfortunate I design to trace, if possible, in her fu- 
 ture course. It cannot be a long one, unless God should 
 reclaim her by the power of the gospel. Should she 
 evince a disposition to live a moral life in future, must 
 she be turned out again upon the world, to encounter 
 strong temptation? The hospital is designed for the sick, 
 and must not therefore be occupied by the sound. When 
 she is restored to health, she must return to a worthless 
 father's house, where she will find the sisters who seduced 
 her. The eldest took her to a dancing house, provided 
 a gallant for her, and after much solicitation, persuaded 
 her to become a mistress. M. D. thinks she should never 
 have yielded, had it not been for the precept and example 
 of this syren sister. The three daughters have all been 
 ensnared by their beauty, pride, and idleness. No mother 
 taught them to be industrious; no mother warned them 
 of the horrible pit into which they have fallen. Their 
 father thinks it enough to provide himself food and drink. 
 By what profession, then, could they live; by what art 
 could they adorn their persons? Under such circumstan- 
 ces, where there is no fear of God, an effectual repulsion 
 of insidious approaches, a persevering struggle against 
 temptation, need not be expected. It will never be found. 
 At present M. D. professes to detest her past manner 
 of life; but, alas! I fear! She is too proud, and has been 
 too much caressed, to become at present a good servant 
 to any body but the devil. She has no trade; there is no 
 Magdalen Asylum in which her protection shall depend 
 upon her good behaviour; she must return to her former 
 abode of temptation; and there was a poison in the cup 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 65 
 
 which she tasted, that will perpetually irritate insatiable 
 desire. 
 
 In such a city as this, in which are not less than seven 
 thousand females of this description, it is devoutly to be 
 desired, that some retreat should be afforded to those, who, 
 from any cause, are willing to relinquish their vices; and 
 that some association should be formed, which shall save 
 at least a few from what they deem the necessity of pros- 
 tituting themselves for a piece of bread. 
 
 After service, I prayed with the wounded negro woman, 
 of whose recovery there is some hope. A large part of 
 her skull is made bare by suppuration, and several parts 
 of the cheek bone have come away; but she is perfectly 
 patient, and resigned to life or death. She is one of the 
 weak things of the world, who, by her patience and hum- 
 ble confidence in Christ, is calculated to confound the wise. 
 Is she a fool? She feels pain as sensibly as other persons| 
 and comforts herself with the plain doctrines of the Gos- 
 pel. The man of science will find, on his death-bed, that 
 this is enviable '* foolishness." 
 
 February \^th. 
 
 *' Now also, when I am old and gray-headed, O God, forsake me not." 
 
 Psalm Ixxi. 18. 
 
 This was my text this evening, in the ward of aged 
 and infirm men. The room was more capacious than any 
 I htive preached in, and contained about two hundred 
 souls. Every corner, bed, and bench, was full. Very 
 many of my hearers were gray-headed men. Some of 
 them were the most perfect pictures which my mind can 
 
 F 2 
 
66 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 conceive of venerable decrepitude and adversity. Some 
 of them were like aged trees, whose decayed roots have 
 yielded them to the blasts of winter. They have fallen 
 on their beds to arise no more. They can be moved by 
 others, but their leaves are no longer green, and their 
 branches no longer wave in the air. So long have they 
 stood that the younger trees, which grew after them, 
 have mouldered into dust, and not a single scion shoots 
 up around the withered stump. 
 
 Others of them still stand, but they resemble the solitary 
 oak in the field, whose companions of the forest, all, all 
 are gone; whose branches have fallen down, whose body 
 is moss-grown, whose top has been shattered by the 
 lightnings of heaven, and which even now trembles to its 
 fall. 
 
 ♦*Thus shiver'd by the lurid lightning-'s blast, 
 I'he dying fir, late monarch of the grove. 
 
 Still aims at heaven, with naked arms upcast. 
 And pays, or seems to pay, its wrath with love. " 
 
 W. M. Johnson. 
 
 O my God, when I am old and gray-headed, forsake me 
 not; and if I cannot preach to others, let others speak to 
 me of Jesus Christ, the sinner's righteousness, strength, 
 and salvation! 
 
 W. R — , the blind boy, repeated a hymn which he had 
 committed to memory since I saw him last. With a de- 
 sire to know if the blind can have any notion of sight, I 
 said, ''my poor little boy, have you ever seen one ray of 
 light?" 
 
 He rolled up his half-formed sightless eye-balls, and 
 said, '*I can tell by my feelings when it is day, and when 
 
VISITS or MERCY. 67 
 
 it is night; when there is light in the room, and when there 
 an't: that's all, sir." 
 
 *'Can you think how a man in appearance differs from 
 a tree?" 
 
 '* I have never seen a tree, but I know how a man/ee^s." 
 
 *' Well, child, you must hear what Christ says: believe 
 in him, love himj for he died for sinners^ and then you 
 will see him in a better world." 
 
 When I was going down stairs, the man, *' whose coun- 
 tenance indicates past intemperance," referred to under 
 the date of January 27th, and wHo has been unusually 
 serious ever since, presented himself, and said in a low 
 voice, that he should be very thankful if I could procure 
 him a hymn book. It was his intention to have made the 
 application privately, that he might not have rivals; but 
 two or three aged women heard him, and expressed their 
 hope that I should not forget them. The books already 
 distributed, I see at least twice a-week, and find that they 
 are devoted to a proper use. Shall this man, apparently 
 under deep conviction, a shoemaker for paupers, be de- 
 nied his request ? The books cost about fifty cents each. 
 It is a small sum, indeed, but it may accomplish much 
 good. 
 
 February \7th. 
 
 For more than a week, with the exception of Thursday 
 evening, and a few hours on Friday, I have been confined 
 to my room by sickness; but to-day I found the way to the 
 hospital and alms-house, and was enabled to preach in 
 both places, to many more grievously afilicted than my- 
 
6S VISITS .OF MERCY. 
 
 self. All very solicitously inquired after my health, and 
 without doubt many sincere prayers were offered for my 
 recovery. George sat on one side of me, and the blind 
 boy on the other. Before me stood a table, covered with 
 coarse, but clean linen, which served me for a pulpit, 
 and supported a quarto Bible. It was the better for wear; 
 and although the property of an individual, yet the use has 
 been common to many widows, who have designated pas- 
 sages of peculiar interest to them, by more than one hun- 
 dred diiferent shreds of calico. Until the Bible Society, 
 composed of young men, began a distribution in the alms- 
 house, the word of God was a scarce article among the 
 children of poverty.* New applications were made for 
 hymn books, by some who told me they were *' poor old 
 creatures, and had nothing but religion to comfort them." 
 Not one obtained the favour which he sought, but they 
 shall be gratified, if God preserves me, and gives the 
 opportunity of seeing them at the appointed time of social 
 praise. 
 
 February 21s/. 
 
 W. R — , who is without father, without mother, and 
 without relative, or, at least without any person who re- 
 cognises relation either by blood or afhnity, repeated 
 seven stanzas which he had committed to memory since 
 the last sabbath. 
 
 • The young men first sought out the cause which they knew not; and 
 since that time, the poor in the hospital and alms-house have been 
 honourably supplied by the two Bible Societies in this city. The Bi- 
 bles have been uniformly preserved with great care. 
 
VISITS OF MKRCY. 69 
 
 To the poor old creatures I gave neither silver nor 
 gold; but what may be of more use to them, a sermon, 
 and some sacred songs. When the ignorant are anxious 
 to learn, to teach them what relates to their everlasting 
 peace, affords higher gratification, than the luxury of that 
 praise which is bestowed by the good; a luxury, which 
 none but idiots would reject. 
 
 February 22nd. 
 
 " In vain 
 
 To rave at mischief, if the cause remain." 
 
 It is the duty of christians to seek the wanderer, and, 
 if possible, reclaim the most abandoned. If proper 
 means are not used to reform those who have departed 
 from the paths of peace, the pious ought not to complain, 
 that the wicked continue in iniquity; and that persons 
 once polluted return to their wallowing in sensuality. 
 What has been done to restore the fallen females of this 
 city ? To which of them has any benevolent society prof- 
 fered protection.^ What female has sought to convince 
 one of the miserable of her own sex, that the door of mer- 
 cy is unfolded, and that there is hope for one, who may 
 have been the habitation of seven devils ? 
 
 It would be grateful to believe that many have so far 
 subdued what is called the pride of chastity, as to imitate 
 the Saviour of sinners in seeking the lost. Unkindness 
 and contempt have hardened many wretched wanderers, and 
 left others to sink, who possibly might have been saved. 
 Legion is the name of that unhappy class of persons, who, 
 in the fondness of expectation, in the security of promise, 
 
To VISITS OF MKRCY. 
 
 in the ardour of youth, and madness of blood, have once 
 yielded to the strong allurements of pleasure, but who 
 would never have yielded to a second deceiver, had not 
 the scorn of cruel relatives forced them to the streets for 
 bread; or to the bagnio, for the gloomy satisfaction of 
 securing an untimely grave. 
 
 Could we trust our own integrity to shield our reputa- 
 tion, or could we bear unjust reproach for Christ's sake, 
 we might visit, with hearts of mercy, and hands of bene- 
 ficence, the most notorious offenders. 
 
 The writer has to-day witnessed one laudable attempt. 
 Two ladies, on Wednesday last, read what of my journal 
 was then written, and felt such an interest in the girl of 
 fifteen, M. D — , that they resolved to invite her return 
 from perdition. One of these pious persons accompanied 
 me to the hospital, and held a private conference with the 
 motherless child, who wept, professed a desire to reform, 
 and seemed grateful for the attention. She could not read; 
 neither can she repeat the ''Lord's prayer." What m.ust 
 have employed the attention of her father ? Alas! he is 
 one of those parents of whom great Milton says, 
 
 ** Yet they a beauteous offspring shall beget. 
 
 For that fair female troop thou saw'st, that seem'd 
 
 Of goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, 
 
 Yet empty of all good, wherein consists 
 
 Woman's domestic honour and chief praise; 
 
 Bred only and completed to the taste 
 
 Of lustful appetence, to sing, to dance, 
 
 To dress, and troll the tongue, and roll the eye." 
 
 Paradise Lost, B. xi. 1. 613. 
 
 These children of Cain are numerous; and parents of 
 this description, who ought to sustain the double office of 
 
VISITS OF MEKOY, 71 
 
 father and mother to their daughters, must render a most 
 solemn account in the general judgment. How many 
 must confess that they have been the indirect causes of the 
 prostitution of their families! " If thou sayest, * behold, 
 yve knew it not,* doth not he that pondereth the heart 
 consider it ? and he that keepeth thy soul, doth not he 
 know it ? and shall not he render to every man according 
 to his works?'* 
 
 February 24fh, 
 
 Rev. Dr. Miller, at my request, delivered a discourse 
 in the hospital this morning, to a very attentive audience; 
 and expressed his full conviction, that it is as important 
 to maintain the preaching of the gospel in this institution, 
 as in any congregation in the city. Every minister who 
 has given me assistance, and all the gentlemen who have 
 attended public worship with us, have expressed the same 
 opinion. 
 
 February 2Sth. 
 
 This evening, with George on my right, and the blind 
 boy on my left, we sung three new hymns, to as many 
 new tunes. The blind commit to memory with great fa- 
 cility; which astonishes me; because when others learn to 
 repeat what is written, they are greatly assisted by recollect- 
 ing the place virhich they have seen. One who preaches 
 from memory, I am informed, thinks of the paragraph and 
 page, and even turns over the leaves in imagination; but the 
 memory of the blind cannot be local. They must think. 
 
72 VISITS OF MKUCY. 
 
 and their minds must review their own operations, more 
 accurately, than the greater part of idle gazers on the 
 works of God. Six or eight blind persons can repeat 
 more sacred poetry and passages of inspiration, than all 
 the other inhabitants of the alms-house. W. R — repeat- 
 ed another hymn. He can always tell me the number of 
 the hymn, and the page. 
 
 In singing, my blind musician, very unexpectedly, re- 
 peated, and repeated again, the second line of the fourth 
 stanza, of the 86th hymn^ 
 
 " Midst outward afflictions shall feel Christ within;'* 
 
 and onward all proceeded, with as much ease, and with as 
 little discord, as had the repeat been written in the music. 
 The deviation was so appropriate, that every one, who 
 had heard, would have honoured the judgment of this 
 eccentric singer. The crowd of hearers was so great, 
 that many were obliged to stand, and some on crutches 
 loo; so that every square foot of room was occupied, ex- 
 cept immediately before the fire, where the preacher 
 stood, very much to his disadvantage. But the Lord 
 gave the hearing ear, and one could well afford to suffer 
 from the want of fresh air. To stand in a confined atmo- 
 sphere, before a warm fire, amidst the sick, who are at- 
 tentive, is not so painful to the heart, as to preach in a 
 spacious church, to empty seats, or to thoughtless people, 
 who either whisper, cough needlessly, examine faces, or 
 slumber. All ministers of the gospel must have their 
 respective trials ! 
 
 Of many of my hearers, I may safely say, that I have 
 good hope of their spiritual welfare. God bless the poor. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 73 
 
 March 3d. 
 
 *'He answered, and said, *l will not;* but afterward he repented and 
 went.*' — Matt. xxi. 29. 
 
 In the hospital these words commanded attention; and 
 every eye was fixed, from the beginning to the end of the 
 discourse. 
 
 Three times, weekly, I have an audience, more resem- 
 bling that which Christ commonly addressed, than can 
 be found in any place not devoted to the poor and wretch- 
 ed. May I but tread in the steps of my divine Master, 
 blessed will be my ministry. Deeply do I regret, how- 
 ever, that there should be so much occasion to address 
 lewd persons as there really is, and that multitudes of 
 them should never hear the word of life. The language 
 of Christ in the context was applicable to some of my 
 hearers; for some amiable young persons, moral in life, 
 who say, ** we go. Lord; but go not," were seated around 
 me; and to these intimate friends I said, alas! with truth, 
 '* verily I say unto you, that publicans and harlots go into 
 the kingdom of God before you." 
 
 In the alms-house I preached in a ward which was full 
 of poor mothers with little children. They would cry, 
 and required attention continually. It was no favourable 
 place for thought and speech, and I was not a little inter- 
 rupted by fifty babes. The poor women, however, were 
 anxious to hear what they could of the discourse, and a 
 small portion of the word of life is better than no food. 
 
 March 7th. 
 
 W. R , thft blind lad, repeated several hymns. I 
 
 have heard him read a chapter in the Bible. He must 
 
 TOL. I. G 
 
74 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 have the book in his hand, opened at the place, (from 
 habit, I suppose,) when he will commence, and finish the 
 reading of many chapters, with the omission of only a few 
 words. The person who first paid attention to this child 
 deserves high praise. It was Mrs. Graham, an aged 
 Dorcas, abundant in all good works. She found him not 
 merely blind, but like the greater part of the children at 
 that time, abounding with a very undesirable animation, 
 and ignorant as the beasts which perish. She began to cul- 
 tivate his mind; and by the assistance of "the Friendly 
 Union Society," in catechizing him, the benighted orphan 
 has obtained as much knowledge of religion as most boys 
 of his age possess. He learns, weekly, more divine songs, 
 and passages of the Bible, than any of his companions in 
 years who enjoy the light. 
 
 March 9 th. 
 ♦' Cast thy bread upon the waters : for thou shall find it after many 
 
 days.'* 
 « He that hath pity on the poor lendetli unto the Lord; and that 
 
 which he hath given will He pay him again." 
 
 The pious person, of accurate observation, will never 
 want evidence of the divine faithfulness. The promises 
 of God, which relate to the present life, as well as those 
 which respect the future, are undoubtedly fulfilled. Who 
 ever perished with hunger, that so trusted in the Lord as 
 to be an heir of this promise, " verily thou shalt be fed?" 
 Who ever " waited patiently for the Lord," and could not 
 affirm, in the promised hour, " he inclined unto me, and 
 heard my cry: he brought me up also out of a horrible 
 pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 75 
 
 and established my goings?" I am young, and have seen 
 many promises fulfilled. There are many who can declare, 
 ** we are oldj yet have we not seen the righteous forsaken, 
 nor his seed begging bread." This is a general rule, that 
 he who feeds the young ravens when they cry, will make 
 all necessary provision for the offspring of his people; and 
 when we find the child of a good man reduced to beggary, 
 there is commonly good reason to conclude, that the pa- 
 rents of the vagabond, like Eli and Samuel, were defective 
 in family government. The promise which is subjoined 
 to the command, "train up a child in the way he should 
 go," is not unfrequently thought to be abrogated, because 
 many pious heads of families have the reputation of com- 
 manding their households after them, who, in fact, when their 
 sons make themselves vile, restrain them not. Prove that 
 a child has really been educated and governed as he ought 
 to have been; and I will then prove, that when he is old he 
 will not depart from the way of life. 
 
 To-day I have seen that bread returned, which many 
 years since was cast upon the waters. 
 
 In the war, which separated the United States from the 
 crown of England, a family was much reduced, by the 
 death of one of the heads, and the loss of all his personal 
 property. The widow, with her two daughters, who were 
 then young ladies, were necessitated to keep boarders for 
 their subsistence. Among their boarders, was a native 
 of New England, and a soldier in the cause of liberty; 
 who, while a resident in the widow's family, was visited 
 with dangerous sickness, and must have died, had not the 
 daughters of his hostess treated him with the most bene- 
 volent attention. For six weeks they watched the wavering 
 flame of life, with the tenderness of sisters, and expected 
 
76 VISITS OF iMKRCY. 
 
 daily to see the last glimmerings extinguished by the 
 dampness of death. It pleased the Lord to preserve the 
 soldier; but he was poor; and his attendants knew it. 
 They did not expect remuneration; nor was he able, in 
 the hard times which our' fathers saw, by the soldier's 
 pay, never paid to many of the brave, to discharge even 
 the bill of his lodging. So soon as his health would per- 
 mit, he shouldered his gun, and marched away, to unite 
 with his companions in ^contest. Never did he again see 
 his female guardians; but, for many years after, he told 
 the tale of his misery, and their kindness, to his wife and 
 friends, in the land of his nativity. 
 
 Tfie widow and the fatherless cast their bread upon the 
 waters: they had pity upon the poor soldier. That widow 
 is dead: the soldier has fought his last battle, in which, 
 through Christ, he was victorious; has laid aside his 
 armour, and now slumbers with those, who shall awake 
 on the morning of the resurrection, to walk with the Cap- 
 tain of their salvation in the pure robes of righteousness. 
 The two daughters survive. The widow and the son of 
 the departed soldier are also in the land of the living. 
 The son is now in Europe; but his wife and mother are 
 in this city. A few days since, they knew not that any 
 of the family which had supported their near relative were 
 in want, or even in life. But a benevolent young man, of 
 the Episcopal church, asked of them assistance for two 
 poor maiden ladies, who were in poverty. The daugh- 
 ter-in-law of the deceased patriot paid them a visit. On 
 learning her name, they told her the story of a soldier of 
 the same name, and she made report to her mother-in- 
 law. Behold, that soldier was her husband, Mr. Hyde, 
 of whom the poor women spake. 
 
ViSnS OF iMERCY. 11 
 
 It was a remarkable providence, which brought this 
 youngs lady to the assistance of persons, who, without her 
 knowledge, had more than thirty years ago preserved the 
 life of her husband's father. One of the females is sick, 
 and her sister watches over her sleepless nights, but that 
 which they loaned to the poor, when they were in more 
 prosperous circumstances, is now returning to them with 
 interest. 
 
 Reader, would you provide for the days of want, which 
 may come? Would you secure friends for the day of ad- 
 versity? Remember the poor, visit the widow, comfort 
 the fatherless^ and when you are reduced to a piece of 
 bread, or a handful of meal, may the descendant of some 
 one who was relieved by your bounty, furnish you with a 
 covering, and a few sticks of wood, at least, to warm 
 your withered frame, that you may be grateful to God, 
 while you say, with new convictions of its truth, that *4t 
 is more blessed to give than to receive." 
 
 March lOth. 
 
 On the 24th of the last month, the writer preached in the 
 ward of the alms-house in which he held public worship 
 this morning: but the room was almost cleared of its late 
 inhabitants. He was then surrounded by many, who have 
 since gone to the state of the dead, and others are stretched 
 on the same beds, to die in their tuVn, in the same manner. 
 It may be necessary, here, to observe, that those persons 
 who are unable to support themselves in sickness, are 
 carried to the hospital, when there is a probability of 
 their being restored to health; but when they have chroni- 
 
 G 2 
 
78 VISITS OF MfiRCY. 
 
 cal complaints, or when the hospital is full, they are 
 brought to the alms-house, to die and be buried at the 
 public expense. Servants and labourers, who have not 
 been sufficiently prudent or successful, to make provision 
 for a lingering disease, find this institution their last home 
 — but one. From the hospital, those who are pronounced 
 incurable are also removed to this place, that their remo- 
 val may make room for new patients, who may be assisted 
 by the medical and surgical attendance. 
 
 M. D — , the girl of fifteen years, with returning health 
 appears less humble, so that the intended benevolence of 
 the ladies who compassionated her, will probably be 
 frustrated. Much it is to be feared that she is ruined for 
 time and eternity. It has been found difficult to procure 
 ?.ny place in a decent family, where it is proper that she 
 should reside. The situation of these women in the hos- 
 pital is unfavourable to reformation: for it is impossible 
 to exclude them from all intercourse with wicked men. 
 Possibly, restraint, counsel, and kindness, might pluck 
 some of them from the flames. Again I exclaim, "O for 
 a Lock, or Magdalen hospital."* The different sexes 
 should not only have different apartments, but be confined 
 in different buildings. In the Magdalen of London, many 
 are preserved from the contempt of the world, idleness, 
 temptation, and themselves. Some might be instructed 
 in religion, and the useful arts: yea, some in this city, as 
 well as the metropolis of England, might be rescued from 
 perdition. 
 
 Would it not be lawful, and is it nat expedient, to confine 
 
 • These institutions in London are exclusively devoted to outcast 
 females. The first heals them; the second protects and provides for 
 them. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 79 
 
 in work-houses some of the clamorous and diseased per- 
 sons, who are a nuisance to the city? Bridewell is a place 
 by far too narrow for one out of every hundred, who 
 should be kept at some honest business, for their own 
 support. The morals of many very young men are cor- 
 rupted, and their health destroyed, by the allurements of 
 those who walk at liberty, spreading the pestilence in all 
 their way. "At the window of my house," every man of 
 observation in this city may say, "I looked through my 
 casement, and beheld among the simple ones, I discerned 
 among the youths, a young man, void of understanding, 
 passing through the street, near her corner; and he went 
 the way to her house in the twilight, in the evening, in the 
 black and dark night: and, behold, there met him a 
 woman — subtle of heart." " With her much fair speech 
 she caused him to yield; with the flattering of her lips she 
 forced him." The writer has seen a youth of fifteen years 
 going ''after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the slaugh- 
 ter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks, till a dart 
 strike through his liver, as a bird hasteth to the snare, 
 and knoweth not that it is for his life." This is stated, 
 that parents may beware betimes; for many never caution 
 their children, from fastidious delicacy, until it is too late; 
 too late for ever! 
 
 Last week, a child was found, in the evening, at the 
 gate of the alms-house, which was deaf, dumb, and lame. 
 It was sewed up in a blanket; and since no one acknow- 
 ledged it, the institution humanely received it. It is one 
 of the effects of Christianity, that such asylums are pro- 
 vided by the community. The child appears to be about 
 twelve years of age. But who were the parents? Had 
 they been so poor as to be unable to support the child, 
 
80 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 they would have brought him openly, and claimed sup- 
 port. If they were able to protect the child, and yet 
 deserted it, they have souls, which *' were made of sterner 
 stuff." There was a similar case of desertion some years 
 ago, of a poor idiot, who was found in the yard of the 
 hospital. Whence he came, no one knew; but, since he 
 was found on Friday morning, like Robinson Crusoe's 
 man, he has been called by that name. From his appear- 
 ance, he must be thirty years of age. Where he was 
 born, where he has lived, and who were his parents, he 
 knows no more than the oyster which adheres to a rock. 
 He has no more reason than the sensitive plant, and though 
 he has all the organs of speech, yet he never attempts to 
 use them. Like Balaam's ass, he has uttered a few articu- 
 late sounds, from compulsion, without understanding their 
 meaning. In every respect, Friday, erect like a man, is 
 inferior to most animals. Would any of our race have 
 exhibited such a spectacle, had not sin, deformity, imbe- 
 cility, mental disorder, and idiotism, entered the world 
 by the first transgression.^ 
 
 March \3th. 
 
 " Should the world frown, and all its pleasures fly, 
 Should every earthly comfort disappear, 
 And all the chamis of nature sink in darkness, 
 If*thou art with me, if thou art my God, 
 Am I not happy? Can I wish for more? 
 Thy gracious presence well supplies the loss 
 Of earthly bliss, and yields superior joy 
 To all tliat universal nature boasts." 
 
 Mas. Steele. 
 
 Those sick and dying persons, who belong to no cler- 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 81 
 
 gyman's cure, and have regularly attended no place of 
 worship, seem to be providentially allotted to me. Many, 
 who are ashamed to send for those ministers whom they 
 might have heard habitually, have sent me a request to 
 come and pray with them, and seem to think that I am 
 exclusively their property, because they are poor, or be- 
 cause they have been so wicked as formerly to slight all 
 religious ordinances. 
 
 This morning I have visited three sick families. In the 
 first, I found a widow with two small children, and a 
 young man on the bed of death, who appeared to be about 
 twenty-three years of age. He was solemn, and deeply 
 anxious about the salvation of his soul. The law had per- 
 formed its appropriate work of alarming, terrifying, and 
 convincing him; yea, of killing every hope of salvation by 
 his personal obedience. By familiar comparisons, I at- 
 tempted to illustrate the doctrine of a sinner's justification, 
 on account of that work which was performed, without 
 man*s pre-concert, or co-operation, when the Son of the 
 Blessed offered up himself a sacrifice for sin. 
 
 In this doctrine there is life, and a gleam of hope ap- 
 peared to dawn on the visage of death. The young man 
 was much affected; desired prayers; and earnestly entreat- 
 ed me to call again. 
 
 From this place I went to the abode of those maiden 
 females, who befriended the sick soldier. I raised the 
 outer cellar door, and knocked upon the inner, which 
 opened into their abode. A feeble hollow voice said, 
 *' come in." I descended, but on entering saw no person. 
 Something like a coverlet, (the lining and stuffing of which 
 was gone with use, so that nothing remained but the 
 patch-work calico, and that defective here and there, 
 
82 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 where one piece was taken, thirty years ago, from a gown 
 older than that which furnished the fellow squares,) was 
 suspended, like a curtain, to divide the cellar into a kitchen 
 and bed-room. The sick woman drew this curtain to be- 
 hold her visiter. 
 
 **What! are you here alone.'^" 
 
 *' Yes, alone; but not alone neither." She stretched 
 forth her hand, and after a few convulsive struggles with 
 the enemy at her vitals, said, "I am glad to see you: I 
 rejoice to see any Christian being." Her sister was gone 
 out to work, for the day, but being near, ran in frequently 
 to assist her patient. I expressed my surprise, that when 
 she was so dangerously sick, she should be deserted; but 
 she replied, that it was necessary for their subsistence, 
 and she was as willing to die with God alone, as with any 
 other company. After I had prayed with her, she said, 
 "What a mercy it is to me, that God has afflicted me! 
 that he did not cut me down, and sweep me away in a 
 moment! that he has not punished me as I have deserved! 
 He has visited me with lingering sickness, that I might 
 know him, and love him better." Such is the humility, 
 gratitude, and faith of this woman, that in prayer I had 
 little else to do, than to thank God for giving such rich 
 consolations of grace as she experienced, to miserable 
 sinners. Until she was providentially found by the com- 
 passionate, she suffered from the want of many of the ne- 
 cessaries of life; but now " she is quite comfortable." 
 
 Lastly, I visited the widow and the fatherless, to learn 
 their present situation. A few days ago I was at the 
 abode of the same woman, and her little son was danger- 
 ously sick. She watched with him incessantly, which 
 made me apprehensive that I should find her ill; and I 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. $3 
 
 was not disappointed. The little boy saw me coming, 
 and welcomed me with a smilej but the mother was almost 
 insensible; was confined to the bed; had sent for no phy- 
 sician; and had no other nurse than her half-recovered 
 child. This woman, I positively know, has been indus- 
 trious, and poverty in her case is not her fault: unless it 
 is a crime to find needles and silk, to close and bind Mo- 
 rocco shoes at the rate of four shillings for twelve pair, 
 when every cord of wood costs her more money than she 
 can accumulate in a month. 
 
 For her relief, I had only to state her case to Mrs. 
 Brodhead and Mrs. Perit, daughters of faithful Sarah, 
 who have often relieved her, and will continue to do it, 
 with truly tender beneficence. She will not want; for 
 these friends of Jesus will visit her in person; and while 
 they raise the drooping head, will pour into the lacerated 
 heart the balm of gospel peace. There are many such 
 pious women in this city, and God reward them a thou- 
 sand fold. 
 
 March 14M. 
 
 This evening was devoted to public worship, private 
 conversation, and the hearing of hymns repeated, in the 
 alms-house. The usual solemnity prevailed, and many 
 were affected at the inquiry, *'will ye also go away?" 
 After the discourse, some of the blind stood around me 
 to be instructed, and expressed so much gratitude, that I 
 really felt ashamed that any worm should be thought a 
 guide, comforter, and almost a saviour. Let it not be 
 thought, however, tl?^at half, or even a fourth part of the 
 
84 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 thousand people in this institution, are disposed to pay 
 constant attention to the preaching of the gospel. Some 
 miserable, polluted beings never show themselves in our 
 assemblies; some are like the half-day hearers af a more 
 polite audience, and some never wish to see a minister 
 until they think death ready to plunge them into hell. 
 
 March \7ih. 
 
 Most of my hearers, this morning, were aged women, 
 who are foreigners; and almost every other person was 
 upon crutches. I never saw, at any one time, so many 
 wooden limbs as were now presented. 
 
 The good matron, from Berwick upon Tweed, was 
 seated with her cane in her hand, and clad with a blue 
 cloak, which has become almost white with age and use. 
 It is a cloak by day, and a covering by night. From its 
 texture, I am led to suppose, that it must have seen better 
 days, when its owner had not outlived all her friends. 
 Happy is that person, who being free from debt, and at 
 peace with mankind, can wrap himself in his mantle, say- 
 ing, '* I have hope in Christ; I brought nothing into the 
 world; I can carry nothing away; let this garment be my 
 winding sheet; I am ready to depart; come. Lord Jesus, 
 come quickly."* There was no object in the room, 
 which did not excite compassion, except a little bird, 
 
 • This aged woman, in the spring of 1812, became quite infirm. 
 Her cheerfulness seemed to be supplanted by an earnest desire to 
 depart and be with Jesus. She was more childish than when the 
 above was written; and in June, fell asleep; but her piety was appa- 
 rent under all circumstances. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 85 
 
 which sung occasionally a soft song to a poor invalid, its 
 mistress. She listened to me, to-day, and after service 
 besought me with tears, that I would not let it be " so 
 long" before I came again. Alas! I pitied her. Her 
 limbs are drawn into knots by the rheumatism, and she 
 cannot leave her bed; but other persons under similar 
 confinement earnestly contend for their turns, and I must 
 preach in eight or ten wards before she can be gratified. 
 
 The hospital, with the approach of warmer weather, 
 begins to part with some of the patients, who could not 
 endure the frosts of winter. Still there was a full room, 
 this afternoon; and more hearers than I could have ad- 
 dressed in a week, had I gone on several missions to the 
 dispersed inhabitants of the wilderness. Why is not one 
 soul as valuable in this city, as one soul in India? The 
 gospel should be preached to every creature; but the 
 messenger should begin at Jerusalem, and make a regu- 
 lar progression to *' all the region round about" her. 
 
 So long as sin reigns, and this city exists a commercial 
 mart, the two institutions in which I labour, will abound 
 with miserable offenders, who must perish, if the bread of 
 salvation be denied them. Here sinners meet, not only 
 from every State in the Union, but from almost every 
 kingdom of Europe. 
 
 March 9.0th. 
 
 Miss Lanse is numbered with the dead. She was re- 
 stored to reason, and continued sane for a few days; but, 
 from delicacy of constitution, could not sustain the shock. 
 She was so extremely weak and low, that few were per- 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
86 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 mittecl to visit the unfortunate victim of tragical farce, 
 before she resigned her life into the hands of God. 
 
 Of all the disorders, to which humanity is subject, that 
 of insanity is the most dreadful^ because, in almost every 
 instance, it puts the patient beyond the reach of the gos- 
 pel. In two hundred cases, I have known only two per- 
 sons who were benefitted by religious instruction. In 
 one of these, a young man, who was on the recovery, but 
 deeply concerned for the salvation of his soul, apparently 
 derived consolation from repeated instructions. It was 
 hope in the mercy of God, which finally established his 
 soul in peace ; and without this he would probably have 
 made a second, and fatally successful attempt upon his 
 life. The word of God, when it was personally applied, 
 he found to be a far better remedy for mental anguish, 
 than the razor, which had stained his hand with his own 
 blood. 
 
 March 21s/. 
 
 Had an enemy seen me to-night, he could not have 
 wished me a more unpleasant situation than I had: or a 
 friend to Jesus, he could not have desired a better employ- 
 ment than I found in the alms-house. The ward of blind 
 people was crowded, and many, who sought to enter, were 
 unable. The room was warm, and the atmosphere odiousj 
 but since our Master stooped to the meanest condition; yea, 
 endured the hardest fare, how could ministers retreat, until 
 they had delivered their message? The singing was ani- 
 mated, and the attention of the hearers compensated for the 
 want of wholesome air. When the weather is warm, it is 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. • 87 
 
 impossible to be comfortable, where are twenty beds, and 
 more than one hundred people, respiring the atmosphere 
 of a single room, again and again. After the sermon, I 
 was sufficiently fatigued to have left the place. At this 
 moment, a little boy, with a pair of bright eyes, wanted 
 to repeat a hymn; and two sick persons sent a request 
 that I would pay them a visit. In going to them, I passed 
 through several rooms, in one of which blind Sofa, an old 
 German woman, hearing my voice, stretched forth her 
 hand to detain me. She has been one of my constant au- 
 ditors, and sings broken English with George very de- 
 voutly. Her natural eyes see not; but her mind discerns 
 glorious things out of the gospel, which her heart loves. 
 It was a grief to this poor saint, that she could not attend 
 public worship this evening. She was too unwell to leave 
 her room, '*but you must tell me,'* she cried, "what 
 your text was.'* 
 
 I replied, *' She hath done what she could," and began 
 to tell her what use I made of these words. '*0 I re- 
 member," she said, "the passage of scripture;" and con- 
 vinced me that she was well acquainted with the context; 
 which one of her companions promised immediately to 
 read for her; and I departed to the bed of an aged man, 
 a soldier in the revolution, who is grievously afflicted 
 with an inflammation of the head. He has served as a 
 governor of the boys, and has assisted in keeping the 
 flock of children still, who surround the door of the ward 
 in which I preach. For many reasons I was sorry to find 
 him sick* What I should do without him, for a con- 
 stable or tithing man among the noisy little ones, I do not 
 know. Alas! almost every soldier, when the toils of war 
 are over, will drink too freely. It is the case with this 
 
88 VISITS OF MEUOY. 
 
 man. At the fear of death he trembles, but says, that if 
 he was certain of pardon and freedom from sin, he should 
 be glad to die. While I conversed and prayed with him, 
 many of his room-mates, aged, infirm, deformed, and 
 miserable in appearance, listened to my speech, and on 
 my departure, offered me their hands with many blessings. 
 
 Lastly, I visited a sick woman. " Do you know that 
 you are a sinner?" ''Oh! I am one of the very worst!" 
 This commenced a dialogue, which was concluded with 
 prayer. Her anxiety of mind is great, and her sickness 
 dangerous. Such instruction as seemed most suitable, 
 was freely given. Glad, indeed, and yet sorry was I, to 
 leave her^ for a fever made her very offensive, while her 
 mind was prepared to receive the gospel. The room was 
 full of old and young, sick and well, good and bad. 
 
 On the general management of the alms-house, I feel 
 constrained to make a few remarks. I do not censure the 
 corpol-ation of the city, nor the present superintendent, for 
 he cannot be every where, to manage every thing; and he 
 certainly attends to his duty with fidelity. The plan of 
 the house is radically wrong. All the apartments are 
 large, and have connexion with each other. There is no 
 public hall in which all the paupers could eat at once; 
 but different messes, at different times, are dispersed 
 through the house. Although seventy or eighty children 
 are lodged in one room, in which all the beds touch, yet 
 many are allowed to ramble through all the apartments, 
 and many live entirely with old people. In some rooms, 
 husbands and wives, with children, and even unmarried 
 persons sleep together. Marriage is permitted in the in- 
 stitution, because it cannot be prevented under existing 
 circumstances, to procreate a future race of paupers. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 89 
 
 These things should not be. The present establishment, 
 in the heart of the city, should be sold; a spacious situa* 
 tion should be occupied, at some distance from the pre^ 
 sent; and instead of one immense pile of buildings, there 
 should be at least four, in as many separate enclosures. 
 One -should be allotted to males, another to females, a 
 third to children, and the fourth, containing a convenient 
 place for public worship, to the superintendent's family, 
 and the various offices of the institution. No sort of con- 
 nexion should subsist between men, women, and children. 
 This would prevent the multiplication of many paupers, 
 and much expense. A minister of the gospel, and a teacher 
 of children, no less than a physician, should be officers in 
 the establishment, and co-operate in the government, with 
 the superintendent. The rooms should be small; and all 
 who are able, should work. All in tolerable health, in 
 each departnient, should take their meals together, to 
 prevent every room from becoming a cook-shop and a 
 bed-chamber. 
 
 Several of the large rooms are now filled with decent 
 people, and when an unfortunate person can obtain a birth 
 in one of them, he ought to think it a great favour; but 
 the greater part of the wards abound with the vile; and 
 here and there a solitary believer is vexed with the filthy 
 conversation of this second Sodom. Every good man must 
 pray, "Oh God! if poverty be my lot, assign me not a 
 residence among such transgressors: let me die in some 
 solitary hovel, where I shall not hear thy name blas^ 
 phemed." 
 
 March 22nd, 
 The young man whom I visited on the 1 3th of the pre- 
 H 2 
 
90 VISITS O? MEROY. 
 
 sent month, I found to-day weaker in body, and in nearly 
 the same state of mind. He requested me to say the same 
 things again, which I had communicated on a former 
 visitj for he wished more perfectly to understand the 
 ground of justification, and the way of life. Again was 
 proclaimed the sinner*s hopej again the glassy eyes, al- 
 most closed in death, sl\ed the full tear; again we prayed, 
 and again he entreated me to renew my visit. But death 
 will come first. Wliether he is to be saved or lost, is be- 
 yond human ken; hut where the gospel is heard with at- 
 tention, and apparent faith in it, we may entertain the 
 fond persuasion, that it is the power of God unto salva- 
 tion. 
 
 March 24th. 
 
 When we attempt to praise God in the alms-house, the 
 dialect of almost every nation is heard; for the English, 
 Scotch, Irish, Dutch, German, French, Spanish, and 
 Italian, as well as American poor, have met together. 
 What some of the foreigners want in pronunciation, they 
 more than make up in their musical notes. I have be- 
 come, now, so accustomed to this confusion of dialects, 
 that it does not disturb my devotion. Nine persons are 
 dangerously sick in the room in which I preached this 
 morning. One of them was well last Thursday evening, 
 attended service in the blind ward, and urged me to preach 
 in her room to-day, with which request I complied; and 
 possibly she may have heard her last serriion. She is now 
 burning with a fever. She is a widow of good report, of 
 amiable countenance, and of exemplary deportment. She 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 91 
 
 has one little daughter of about eight years of age. The 
 poor-house has become her home, in consequence of a 
 "white swelling" on one of her limbs, which is incura- 
 ble, and utterly prevents her from labour. Poor woman! 
 Her trials are great; but they will be sanctified to her 
 good, and the divine glory; for she is a child of the most 
 High, a daughter of the Lord Almighty. 
 
 My tithing man sent for me to pray with him again. 
 His knees bowed at his bed-side, while we offered up such 
 petitions as were deemed most appropriate. 
 
 From him I turned to a Scotchman, in the same room, 
 who on the fourth day of this month commenced his 
 eighty-fifth year. He told me in the broad dialect of the 
 land of his nativity, that he was ''very auld, and without 
 feeling a'most. I cannae e'en feel," said he, laying his 
 hand on his vest, "to button my clothes." 
 
 "You know, then," I said, "the force of Solomon's 
 expressions, concerning that state in which the grinders 
 are few, desire fails; the hands, the keepers of the house, 
 tremble; and the knees, the strong men, bow themselves. 
 The grasshopper, every little trifle, must have become a 
 burthen." 
 
 "Few and evil," he replied, " have the years of my life 
 been." The old man was well acquainted with the system 
 of Christianity; and, indeed, where will you find a native 
 of Scotland, that is destitute of doctrinal knowledge? 
 "Could I be sure," he said, "of an interest in Christ, I 
 should think myself a happy man." 
 
 "From what you have already said, I should think that 
 you had a well-grounded hope of your being in Christ by- 
 faith; and I trust it will be well with you, when this time- 
 eaten garment shall be laid aside," 
 
92 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 **My dear sir, no man is certain until the very last, 
 until he is secure; for wide is the gate, and broad is the 
 way, which leadeth to death, while strait is the gate, and 
 narrow the way, which leadeth to life. I have hope, how- 
 ever. '* When I left him, he thanked me for a little atten- 
 tion to "an auld mon." While I was coming out, two 
 other persons of seventy years arose to pay their respects 
 to me. One was a tall, pale, hoary-headed man; and the 
 other was blind. When I exhorted them to pray, the 
 tears of the former fell upon his frosted beard. They 
 said, that in such a noisy place, they found it difficult to 
 pour out their hearts to God in any corner, but in the 
 night, when most around them were asleep, they always 
 attempted it. 
 
 I could easily believe their assertion, for on descending* 
 and crossing the yard, I met not less than one hundred 
 little children, without any one to restrain them, playing 
 all manner of gambols, and roaring like the young bears 
 of the wilderness. Some of the older ones are catechized 
 on the sabbath, by pious individuals, and the members of 
 the "Friendly Union Society;" but these were under five 
 years of age, and have become expert in mischief. They 
 should have a governess as well as a nurse; and under the 
 general superintendent, there should be at least a lieutenant 
 over children. Who will not be astonished, when I state 
 that some affluent churches allow some of their baptized 
 children to be educated in such a school of immorality as 
 this? The words of Crabbe are so appropriate, that I beg 
 the reader to peruse them. 
 
 ** At last, with all their words and work content. 
 Back to their homes the prudent Vestry went, 
 And Uichard Monday to the work-house sent. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 93 
 
 There was he plnch'd and pitied, thump'd and fed, 
 
 And duly took his beatings and his bread; 
 
 Patient in all control, in all abuse. 
 
 He found contempt and kicking have their use: 
 
 Sad, silent, supple; bending to the blow, 
 
 A slave of slaves, the lowest of the low; 
 
 His patient soul gave wa}' to all things base. 
 
 He knew no shame, he dreaded no disgrace; 
 
 It seems so well his passions he supprest, 
 
 No feeling stirr'd his ever torpid breast; 
 
 Him might the meanest pauper bruise and cheat; 
 
 He was a footstool for the beggar's feet; 
 
 His were the legs that run at all commands. 
 
 They us'd, on all occasions, Richard's hands." 
 
 In the afternoon, I had the pleasure of a clean room in 
 the hospital, and attentive hearers. Many of them are 
 dying men, and under such circumstances, who would not 
 be attentive? It is a subject of no small gratitude with 
 me, that this Institution is well managed; that the super- 
 intendent, under the honourable governors, keeps his 
 numerous family in subjection; and, so far as he is able, 
 promotes the spiritual, as well as temporal welfare of the 
 patients. 
 
 In the hospital, we are most deficient in that important 
 part of worship, the singing of psalms and hymns. I 
 want such a clerk here as I have in the alms-house; but 
 since there is no such patient as George, I am happy to 
 express my gratitude to Mr. Henry Crocker, for repeat- 
 edly leading in our sacred songs. He has kindly volun- 
 teered his services in many instances, and I trust the Lord 
 will reward him for his exertions to help the devotion of 
 the poor. 
 
94 TISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 April 5 th. 
 
 Since my last date, I have performed my usual services 
 to the poor, and wish it to be understood, that I shall re- 
 gularly preach in the alms-house twice, and in the hospital 
 once, weekly, when I do not give the reader notice of my 
 absence. 
 
 This morning the superintendent of the hospital called, 
 with a request that I would visit one of the patients. I 
 went to the bed-side of the unfortunate female^ found her 
 in tears, and left her in tears. And would to God, that 
 my fellow-citizens, who certainly are not devoid of com- 
 miseration, might turn their attention to a Magdalen 
 Asylum, when I assure them that the tale I relate, is no 
 less true than affecting. 
 
 Four years ago, a certain dame, of this city, whose 
 name might be given, would it answer any valuable pur- 
 pose, visited the town of E n, in the state of New- York, 
 
 in the character, and, as the vulgar would think, in the 
 attire of a fashionable lady. By appearances and profes- 
 sions, she imposed on the simple. She found a poor, 
 ignorant widow, who had many children, whom it was 
 difficult for her to support^ and among them a daughter 
 of twelve years, who was, in the estimation of a harridan, 
 adapted to procure the spending-money of the licentious 
 in the middle grade of sensualists. The girl was mascu- 
 line, and ignorant. The mother gave credit to the speeches 
 of a fine lady; and consented to part with her child, that 
 the deceiver might make her a city chambermaid of 
 distinction. The daughter was promised high wages, 
 kind treatment, and easy service. The mother was de- 
 luded; the deceiver triumphed; the child was ruined. 
 
VISITS OF MEROY. 95 
 
 The female monster brought her prey to this city, and 
 before she was thirteen years of age, prostituted her to 
 the vilest purposes. In this deplorable situation she has 
 been almost four years. In the lapse of this time, her 
 mother has twice been to this city in search for her child, 
 
 but could not find her. Once Amy W n knew that 
 
 her parent was in pursuit of her, and would have gone, 
 with all her growing consciousness of guilt, to meet one, 
 who could have pardoned, while she reproved; but the 
 monster who had decoyed her from her mother, absolutely 
 locked her into her chamber, an4 by force made her drunk 
 with cordials. 
 
 Now the poor, miserable, seduced being, is in the hospi- 
 tal, and apparently nigh to the grave. No mother is near 
 to comfort her. She cannot read the Bible. She has, 
 however, and I bless God for the circumstance, the pious 
 instructions, attentions, and prayers of the present matron, 
 who seeks to imitate her Master, by doing good to the 
 most profligate. 
 
 The child knew that she was a sinner, and has been for 
 some days deeply afflicted in spirit, as well as in body. 
 Such copious weeping I never saw before, in any single 
 instance. I doubt whether Mary, who washed the feet of 
 Jesus, shed more tears in the same time. But floods of 
 tears cannot wash away the guilt and pollution of one sin. 
 The blood of Christ, the precious blood of the atonement, 
 cleanses believers from all sin. 
 
 The hope which may be rationally entertained of the 
 salvation of this person, is certainly more animating than 
 that which can be cherished concerning thousands, who 
 dwell at ease, and hundreds who, not knowing the power 
 of God, think it can be of no service to preach the gospel 
 
96 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 to such wretches as inhabit charitable institutions. Let 
 those who are ignorant of the efficacy of the living words 
 and blood of Christ, and who nevertheless deem them- 
 selves Christians, know assuredly, that there is more 
 reason to expect the salvation of a Mary Magdalen,* than 
 of their souls. 
 
 In another corner of the same ward, lay a mother of 
 harlots, whose face scarcely resembles any thing human. 
 Lazarus, who probably knew nothing of the modern de- 
 mand for mercury, and the sores it produces, was not 
 more afflicted than this :^6man. For years past she has 
 made merchandise of many, many female boarders, but 
 seeing the grief of Amy W — n, and being affected at the 
 situation of the country girl, she said to me, " I am draw- 
 ing near to the eternal worldj but although I have encour- 
 aged many to continue in sin, yet I thank God that I never 
 stole away and ruined such an innocent child as that. 
 That's all my consolation !" Miserable consolation, indeed ! 
 But in this manner, the vilest of dying sinners seek con- 
 solation, by comparing themselves with some of their 
 companions, whom they deem more obnoxious to divine 
 justice than themselves. The Pharisee was not singular 
 in the expression of his heart, " God, I thank thee that I 
 am not as other men." 
 
 Jpril 6th. 
 
 ^ Amy W n continues in the same state of body and 
 
 * Common use has rendered this name descriptive of a degraded fe- 
 male; but the scriptures present no evidence that Mary Magdalen was 
 a woman of the city. The sinner of whom we read in Luke vii. 37, is 
 not called Mary; but it was Mary, the sister of Lazarus, who in the house 
 of another Simon, the leper, anointed the head of Jesus. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 9T 
 
 mind. She was convulsed with emotion; wept while I 
 prayed for her; thanked me for my attention; and seemed 
 to think herself too vile to excite even a fellow-sinner's 
 commiseration. 
 
 April 7th. 
 
 How it might have affected others I knoAv not, but to 
 me it was an interesting sight to see a tall respectable fe-' 
 male of about fifty-five years brought into our assembly in 
 the alms-house, by a compassionate man, that she might 
 hear the word of God. The rheumatism has prevented 
 the use of her limbs; so that she can neither stand nor walk; 
 but she could sit and listen to the doctrine which she loves. 
 After sermon, the same man took her in his arms to her 
 own ward.* 
 
 • This man had been visited with the palsy, but was now in the 
 possession of his usual strength. After the above date he frequently 
 performed the same service for the same pious woman. Som,etime in 
 the winter of 1812 he was taken sick, with a second attack of Ws 
 disorder. I visited him; found him much agitated in soul, and 
 anxious to know what he should do to be saved. His sins were his 
 tormentors. Christ, the Saviour of sinners, was offered to his accept- 
 ance, and after prayer I left him weeping. A few days after, he re- 
 quested to see me, when I had been preaching and praying with 
 other sick persons. Such was my fatigue, and indisposition of body, 
 that I excused myself for that time; but the next morning I found that 
 he died, while expressing a wish that I was present to pray for him 
 This 18 the only instance in which I have excused myself from any un- 
 pleasant duty of this kind; and, although I cannot severely censure 
 myself, because I was really sick, yet I think it will be the last. If I 
 can stand and speak, I am resolved to pray with dying sinners, who 
 request me to be their leader in devotion. 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
98 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 The most pitiable object, whom I have seen of late, is 
 an Irish woman, who is dangerously sick of a fever in the 
 alms-house. She was a good mother, and wife, before 
 her husband deserted her^ and she is a good mother still. 
 From everyone, who has known her, I learn a favourable 
 account of her moral conduct. To-day she would have 
 melted any heart. Four little children surrounded her 
 bed, who were all of them like herself, and all so much 
 like one another, that nothing but stature seemed to dis- 
 tinguish one from the other. All of them w'ere crying 
 for their poor mother. The whole family lately came 
 from Ireland, but the husband has left her with her babes 
 to languish, and perhaps to die, without a friend. Alas I that 
 drunkenness should, in this country, transform a generous 
 and wildly enthusiastic son of Erin into something worse 
 than a brute I In Hibeniia, it is probable that this same 
 fellow v.'ould have divided his last potato with his super- 
 annuated grandmother^ or would have shed his blood in 
 defence of his wife and children; but here, where ardent 
 sjjirits are sold for six shillings by the gallon, wife, 
 children, relatives, and friends, may all go to the alms- 
 house, or even to " Potter's field," for a glass of grog.* 
 
 April 25 th. 
 
 Again I have seen, beside many other sick persons, the 
 deserted Irish woman. She was found with three children 
 
 • It is said that a newly naturalized citizen, to induce some of his 
 countrymen to immigrate to this country, wrote to his friend, ''that 
 in America a man might get drunk twice for sixpence!" This is too 
 
 true! 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 99 
 
 in one bed, in a room in which were many widows, or 
 deserted females, in the same predicament. Two were 
 laid at the foot of the bed^ one was at her side; and the 
 youngest was in the arms of a friend in adversity. If the 
 children are preserved from the putrid fever, it will asto- 
 nish me. For them she wept, and prayed to live, while 
 several of her acquaintance sobbed in unison. If any situa- 
 tion can be imagined, which requires Mucii grace to ena- 
 ble one to resign life without a murmur, it is that of a 
 deserted wife, who has little i)abes hanging about her 
 parched lips and panting bosom. What will become of 
 them, in this busy world, where thousands might say in 
 truth, "I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there 
 was no man that would know me: refuge failed me; no 
 man cared for my soul?" Psalm cxlii. 4. 
 
 May ]6ih. 
 
 Since the last introduction of the name of W. R — , the 
 blind boy, he has repeated, weekly, a hymn; and this even- 
 ing more little children proposed to follow his example 
 than the writer could patiently heai\ ihey had the pro- 
 mise of being attended to at our next meeting, and of a 
 little book; for the Rev. Dr. Proudfit hud presented a bun- 
 dle of tracts, with Owen on the 130th Psalm, for the bene- 
 fit of the poor. This reverend gentleman I have never 
 seen, ])ut his books shall be loaned to those who think every 
 religious book a treasure; and in heaven some one may 
 bless him for publishing and distributing, gratuitously 
 and otherwise, a cheap edition of a book, which clearly 
 illustrates the doctrine of pardon. 
 
100 VISITS OK MKRCY. 
 
 May \9th. 
 
 "Thus must foul earth be purified by fire! 
 
 Her guilty hosts in burning" seas expire! 
 
 Thus must her dust, which drank her Maker^s blood. 
 
 Be washed away beneath a flaming- flood.*' — B. Francis. 
 
 Who can behold a city in flames, and not think of that 
 day in which the earth shall burn like an oven; in which 
 all things in it shall be consumed ? While on my way to 
 the alms-house, on the morning of this holy day, the cry of 
 nre resounded from a thousand tongues. The wind was 
 unusually boisterous for a clear day, and the buildings in 
 the vicinity of the fire were of wood. In a few moments, 
 many houses were enveloped in the general conflagration, 
 and before one o'clock, more than one hundred tenements 
 were reduced to ashes. Most of these were inhabited by 
 two or three poor families. The whole scene was dread- 
 ful. Mothers were running in every direction in pursuit 
 of their lost children, and husbands, in consternation, 
 were seeking for their wives. Many of the public build- 
 ings took lire, and for some time half of the city seemed to 
 wait a fiery doom. In the midst of this distress, I enter- 
 ed the alms-house. In the blind ward, one of my pious 
 hearers, blind Patty, was in a fit, and her room-mates 
 were crying aloud for hei^ and for themselves. They 
 knew that the fire was near, and thought that no one 
 would take the trouble to lead them out, even should the 
 house over their heads be in flames. To be blind, and to 
 be near the raging element, must be alarming indeed! 
 Ok! that they would consider this, who are blind, while 
 they stand on the brink of hell! At the sound of my 
 voice in the room, many exclaimed, *'our friend has 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 101 
 
 come," who felt for me, and hun^ around the skirts of 
 my garment, praying that I would lead them out, until I 
 repeatedly assured them that they were in no immediate 
 danger. During the violence of the conflagration, I visit- 
 ed several wards, and attempted to make use of the scene, 
 by reminding the paupers of that day in which the heavens 
 being rolled together as a scroll shall pass away, and the 
 material universe shall melt with fervent heat. Before 
 twelve o'clock they were sufficiently composed to attend 
 to a discourse, in which they were taught to seek the best 
 things, even durablte riches and righteousness. 
 
 Ten persons were confined to their beds in the room in 
 the hospital which was this afternoon visited by the word 
 of the Lord; and one of them, who seemed unusually ten- 
 der upon religious subjects, told me in conversation, that 
 many had been the troubles of his life, '*but they are not 
 worthy to be named; for I've deserved them all, and I think 
 that they have been for my good." He was born in Eng- 
 land, bred a brewer, and for some time past, had been a 
 journeyman at his trade in this city. On the first of May, 
 a time when half of the poor remove from one shed to an- 
 other, he was left houseless for the night. The room which 
 he had occupied had been let to another, who could pay a" 
 higher rent. He could not, on that day, procure another 
 tenement; and the new occupant, according to the custom 
 of this good city, cast the furniture of T — T — into the 
 street. To preserve his goods during the night, the 
 brewer seated himself on a stoop beside them. When all 
 was silence but the hourly rap of the watchmen on the 
 pavement, he fell asleep. A young rogue passed that 
 way, and undertook to search the sleeper's pockets, in 
 \Thich he found some money; but could not make good his 
 
 I 2 
 
102 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 retreat, without arousing his plundered neighbour. The 
 brewer gave him chase, and followed him into a cellar. 
 This is the last that he remembers of the events of the 
 night, but in the morning he was found alone, with a 
 bruised head and a broken leg. ** It was all well, how- 
 ever," said he, concluding his tale with a sigh, "for the 
 sufferings of the present state are not worthy to be com- 
 pared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.'* 
 
 On the latter part of the last week, the writer had the 
 pleasure of finding two poor women in the suburbs, who 
 are now rejoicing in the "just God and Saviour,'* but 
 who had never listened to the glad sound of the gospel, 
 before they heard one of his discourses in a school room. 
 At that time he preached under the patronage of the 
 "Friendly Union Society," and these females turned in, 
 as they informed him, from idle curiosity; but by the 
 good will of God, their attention was arrested. It was the 
 first discourse which they had heard for many months. 
 They were not in the habit of attending public worship in 
 any place; but have since given abundant evidence, that 
 they love all the ordinances of Christ's kingdom. 
 
 At the solicitation of these children in the faith, ac- 
 companied by the request of several poor families, he 
 sought on Friday last some convenient place to open a 
 weekly lecture. Having fixed his eye upon a school house 
 which he deemed suitable to his purpose, he drew near to 
 it, and half consented to retire, from the reflection, that 
 he could not afford to hire it. The lecture was to be free 
 for the poor; and since contributions were not to be taken 
 up, who will furnish lights, and prepare for our reception? 
 He had opened the gate before he had answered this ques- 
 tion, and would have drawn back to make some previous 
 
YISITS OF MEKCT. 103 
 
 arrangement, had not the master presented himself, like 
 one who should say, " pray, sir, what is your business?'* 
 To save him the trouble of asking such a question, the 
 writer told him what was wanted. *'I presume,*' said 
 the master, " that you are of the Episcopal church." 
 *'No, sir; but I wish grace, mercy, and peace, to all of 
 every denomination, who love our Lord Jesus Christ." 
 He asked the question, it afterwards appeared, because 
 he -and the owner of the property were of the number of 
 those lately proscribed beings, praying churchmen. He 
 gave encouragement, and directed the preacher to the 
 owner, a pleasant, pious man, who made the poor welcome 
 to the use of the room, and said his son should be sexton, 
 if the applicant would find candles. 
 
 On his way to this room, this evening, he passed along 
 the still smoking ruins. A little beyond them, he overtook 
 a woman of colour, who appeared to have been brought 
 from Guinea, about eighty years ago. Under one arm she 
 carried five large brands, which had been quenched by the 
 engines; and under the other, a quarto Bible, which had 
 lost one of its covers, and which, like herself, appeared 
 much the worse, and in other respects, much the better, 
 for wear. 
 
 **Poor woman," said he, *' have you been burned out 
 too?" 
 
 " Yes, massa, but blesset be God, I'm alive." 
 
 ** You are very old to be turned out of house and 
 home." 
 
 " I well stricken in years, but God does it; and in dis 
 world, 'tis one's turn to-day, and anudder's to-morrow." 
 
 ** Have you saved nothing but your Bible?" 
 
 ** Noting but one trunk ©'things: but dis blesset book 
 
104 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 is wort more as all de rest. It make me feel better as all 
 de rest. So long as I keep dis, I content." 
 
 With all the animation of Uncle Toby, when he said of 
 the sick soldier, '* he sha'n*t die;*' but without his oath, 
 which made the accusing spirit blush as he gave it in, and 
 shed a tear " to blot it out for ever," the stranger said, put- 
 ting his hand into the pocket," you sha'n't be houseless." 
 She replied, " O a sister in the church has promised t© 
 take me in. " Some good thing can come out of the noisy 
 Methodist church of coloured people. The old saint was 
 carrying her sticks to her sister's house, to cook necessary 
 food, and her Bible to comfort her heart. She received a 
 pittance; and in return, gave the stranger, of such things 
 as she had, a blessing in the name of God. It was of 
 more value than the praises of many mighty. Perhaps 
 it rested on him; for when he arrived at the place of 
 worship, God gave him affections flowing like grateful 
 streams. His own heart was refreshed. The room was 
 crowded; and many who would, were unable to enter.* 
 
 May 24th. 
 
 The fire has greatly increased the population in my do- 
 minions. This evening the doors were open into three 
 wards in the alms-house, so that many more than usual 
 listened to my discourse. It was a solemn evening to many, 
 and God grant that the persons burned out of home, may 
 derive some spiritual advantage from the affliction. 
 
 • I have since had the pleasure to learn, that the discourse which 
 was then delivered, was not without fruit in the hearts of others. 
 
VISITS 0¥ MERCY. 105 
 
 May 26M. 
 
 It is not unusual in this world for men to get out of 
 one unpleasant situation into another. At the instigation 
 of several paupers, who could not find seats at our last 
 meeting in the alms-house, I consented to preach this 
 morning in the school-room of the institution. It is situ- 
 ated in the yard; and I had entertained the hope, that I 
 should escape the loathsome effluvia of old beds, cookery, 
 and drugs; but I changed sides to keep the pain: for the 
 room was full; the scorching sun could not be excluded 
 from the windows; and all the swine of the place, which 
 are not few, surrounded the building. 
 
 Blind George made his appearance here in anew style. 
 Hitherto he has made a doleful figure; for his long black 
 hair was tumbled over his sightless face, his hempen jacket 
 and trowsers were covered with grease, his hat was with- 
 out top and brim, and his feet were bare. Designing that 
 he should assist me at the hospital, I had thought it ne- 
 cessary to beg him a hat, from a young man, a blue broad- 
 cloth coat, of middle age, from Wm. Smith, and to furnish 
 him with pantaloons, a vest, and shirts. His appearance 
 now corresponds very well with the profession of clerk 
 to the stated preacher to the poor. He sung more cheer- 
 fully than ever. The Irish woman, whose case I stated, 
 on the 2 1st of April, was, present, with her babe in her 
 arms, to give thanks for her recovery, and beg a catechism 
 that she migiit instruct her children. She manifests great 
 humility, and deeply mourns for her misguided husband. 
 
 In the afternoon, I led my clerk to the hospital. He 
 was a great acquisition in our social praise; and gave the 
 patients great satisfaction. After public worship was 
 
106 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 over, many surrounded him, and he sung solemn songs for 
 the space of an hour. The stolen country girl, Amy 
 
 W n, attended my discourse with many tears. She 
 
 lives, beyond the expectation of all who know her case. 
 One of her companions, Patty, who is now recovering the 
 second time, has for months regarded religious instructions 
 with a lively interest^ and seemed to be quite delighted 
 when George sung for her Newton's "Good Physician," 
 and ''the sinner's Friend." 
 
 In consequence of the throng about the door of the 
 school-room in the suburbs on the 19th inst. application 
 was made for the use of the Irish Church on sabbath even- 
 ings, and, thanks to the liberality of the pastor and his 
 people, the privilege sought was readily granted. To this 
 place I led my clerk this evening, where he performed his 
 part, to the satisfaction of a very attentive audience. 
 
 May 30th. 
 
 On returning from the churchman's lecture room this 
 evening, a very judicious woman informed the^writer, 
 that one of her acquaintance turned in to hear his dis- 
 course in the Irish church, who had never entered a 
 church before but three times in her life. This person 
 was a married woman, who has two children; but, great 
 as her past negligence has been, there is now some hope, 
 for she declares that she will hear, so long as he continues 
 '' to preach within her reach." If one such heedless sin- 
 ner is allured to Christ, he will be amply compensated for 
 preaching regularly five times in each week; which he 
 has now engaged to do, so long as his health and other 
 
VISirS OF MERCY. 107 
 
 imperious circumstances will permit. May God speed 
 his own word. 
 
 May 315/. 
 
 Again I have proclaimed salvation to the poor in the 
 alms-house, and conversed again with a pious woman, 
 who has been confined to her bed twelve months with the 
 rheumatism. To her, I trust, my services in the glorious 
 gospel of Christ have been sanctified. She has long been 
 one of the most emaciated persons I have ever seen, and 
 I was not surprised to hear her say, " for sometime the 
 world has been nothing in my estimation: Christ is all. 
 Might God be pleased to pardon my sins, and take me 
 away, I should be thankful; but I have no reason to com- 
 plain. He has afflicted me for good." She is destitute 
 of near relatives. Her only child, a dutiful son, the last 
 of her kindred, died suddenly in a fit, not long before she 
 entered the alms-house, and with him fell every earthly 
 confidence. God has been her support; Christ her re- 
 fuge. That the prosperous should desire life, is natural; 
 and that one, who is friendless, houseless, pennyless, weak, 
 and full of pain, without hope of better temporal circum- 
 stances, but who has good hope through grace, should 
 desire heaven, is equally natural. Grace becomes so 
 much a part of the renewed man, that from a new nature, 
 he very naturally desires to depart, and be present with 
 Jesus, while that which is born of the flesh shudders at 
 the thought of the coffin, the worm, the putrefaction of the 
 grave. Many, who cannot delight in death, desire what 
 is beyond it, and, from enrapturing prospects of Canaan, 
 launch into the dusky Jordan. 
 
108 VISITS OF MEIICY. 
 
 June 2nd. 
 Instead of delivering a regular discourse in the hospi- 
 tal to-day, I visited eight wards, gave a short exhortation 
 in each, and prayed with the patients. Miserable and 
 sinful as niost of these beings are, they are not the most 
 insensible of the human family. Hundreds appear every 
 sabbath on the public walks, who read the Bible less, think 
 less, and pray less, than the poor in my diocese. When 
 
 I entered the ward of forlorn hope, and no male 
 
 hearers were present to stimulate them to impudence, by 
 way of defence against their own emotion of shame, they 
 were as attentive as any audience in the city, and some 
 could not restrain their tears, while others covered their 
 faces, like persons who blush to look up to heaven. 
 
 June 4th. 
 Some young females who belong to the city, have fre- 
 quented my lectures in the alms-house. Who they are I 
 know not; but I have observed for some months past, that 
 the ^ame faces are present. There is reason to believe, 
 that they are ashamed to appear in any other congrega- 
 tion than that of the poor. O! that all the deluded, in 
 some place or other, might listen to the doctrines of life. 
 Some few poor women, of good character, who live with- 
 out the walls of the institution, from want of a more con- 
 venient place of public worship, or because they are too 
 poor to purchase pews, have been permitted to hold a 
 place with us on the sabbath. 
 
 June Qth, 
 A short narration of my future visits may give a ape- 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 109 
 
 cimen of my past conduct, for I think, in defiance of cen- 
 sure, to pursue the even tenor of my way. Three patients 
 I have particularly visited and prayed with to-day. One 
 was too full of pain to make much reply to my inquiries; 
 the second repeated what he said on the last sabbath, 
 that he desired nothing so much as this life; and the third, 
 a very intelligent man, thought his case hopeless. Once 
 he thought he knew the Lord, but now he apprehends that 
 there remaineth no more sacrifice for his sins, because he 
 has trodden under foot the blood of the Son of God. 
 
 Four wards in the alms-house have also been visited 
 with instruction and prayer. Particularly I sought 
 some, who had been sent from the hospital, under the 
 dreadful sentence of "incurable cases.*' I found two. 
 One, M — B — , so soon as she saw me, called me by name, 
 and put forth her withered hand, which one who remem- 
 bered that Christ washed the feet of his disciples, would 
 not refuse. We held a long conversation in presence of 
 twenty, who are incurable from the same cause. M — 
 B — , was born in England, is about thirty years of age, 
 and has lived twelve years in notorious licentiousness. 
 Very few of this class of people have so long a course of 
 iniquity; for I should think that not one of a hundred of 
 them survives her twenty-fifth year. This woman con- 
 fesses that she has been well instructed, was of a good 
 family, has resisted great light, and abused all divine mer- 
 cies. For three months past, she thinks that the eyes of 
 her mind have been opened to behold the light of truth. 
 Prayer is her delight. Her greatest present trouble, not 
 excepting absolute confinement to her bed, arises from 
 her belief that she does not feel so deeply her own vile- 
 ness as she ought. She has no expectation of recovery; 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
1 10 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 and she wishes that God may never permit her to arise 
 again, unless it is to depart from iniquity. "Let me 
 die," she says, *' unless I should be kept from sin, and 
 glorify God by my future life." Many similar things 
 she said with great humility; and if she is a deceiver, 
 she is an adept indeed. The other person, whom I found, 
 was Amy W — n, in an adjoining room. She lay in the 
 middle of it, surrounded by about thirty as miserable as 
 herself. She was glad to see me, and desired prayer. If 
 any one cannot pray, it is a proverbial saying," send him to 
 sea:" but if any minister cannot occasionally preach with- 
 out reading his manuscript, send him to the alms-house. 
 The sin and misery of this place are indescribable. 
 
 June 9th. 
 
 My brethren, who have polite congregations, find no 
 difficulty in gaining assistance frSm transient ministers; 
 and to-day I have succeeded for the fourth time in ob- 
 taining ''a labour of love." Of course I preached only 
 twice on the present sabbath. The man whose chief de- 
 sire was to live, retains his rational faculties at intervals 
 only. He desired me to pray for him, and particularly 
 that he might live, while he was sensible of the approach 
 of death. Our reluctance to meet the king of terrors can- 
 not retard his advancing steps. This man must die, and 
 to-morrow will present him before the tribunal of God. 
 
 J B , the person who yesterday thought his 
 
 case hopeless, does not doubt the truth of divine pro- 
 mises, but their application to his case. This is a com- 
 mon temptation in the Christian family. When I asked 
 him what he would pray for, might he offer two petitions 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 1 1 I 
 
 with the assurance of being heard, he said, *'I would first 
 pray to be received into the kingdom of heaven, and then, 
 to be restored to health." 
 
 June Id/A. 
 
 Early this morning, he who clung to life was com- 
 pelled to relinquish his hold. Even so expires a drown- 
 ing man, while holding fast a straw. Who can render 
 permanent a vapour, whose nature it is to appear for a 
 little time, and then vanish? Who can protract what 
 God has denominated "a moment.^" Our days are as 
 ** nothing" before him. 
 
 To a multitude of these beings, who, like myself, are 
 flitting to the tomb, I have this evening proclaimed Jesus 
 Christ, the Saviour. In my presence were three persons, 
 whom I have known to be bed-rid ever since I first visited 
 the alms-house. Two pious women were brought in the 
 arms of some compassionate men. A fine little boy re- 
 peated a hymn, and having received a cent, thought it 
 ample compensation for his trouble. Much good may be 
 done at a small expense; for I have procured many pious 
 songs to be committed to memory, at the same rate, 
 which may prove restraints in youth, and consolation in 
 old age. 
 
 In one part of the room in which I preached, lay Mrs. 
 
 M , a German woman of seventy-eight years. Often 
 
 have I conversed with her to my own edification. She is 
 lingering on the verge of time, is full of humble confi- 
 dence in Christ, and by faith looks steadfastly into the 
 eternal world. 
 
 After public worship was concluded, I visited twelve 
 
1 12 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 persons, who are old and full of pains. One was an Irish- 
 man, of excellent understanding, who is well acquainted 
 with the doctrines of the gospel, and apparently with Jesus 
 crucified; but the most affecting object was one W — t, of 
 fifty years of age, who is reduced to the borders of the 
 grave by intemperance in the use of ardent spirits. The 
 following dialogue ensued. 
 
 " Have you formerly thought that you was a miserable 
 sinner?'* 
 
 " Yes: but now /know that I am vile. I have ruined my- 
 self. I have been, besides committing other sins, a drunken 
 carman for nineteen years." 
 
 **Do you know how you can be saved?" 
 
 " 7/" / should live, I hope God will enable me to reform, and 
 lead a better life. " 
 
 *' But should you die to-night, what would become of 
 your soul? Do you know of any way in which a rebel 
 nian can be justified, and saved from hell?'* 
 
 *' No; I should have fio hope; but upon my word and honour 
 I want to pray God to be merciful to me a sinner." 
 
 '*No better prayer can be offered by any sinner, and 
 while you live I hope you will continue to pray." 
 
 '' I do keep praying, but Pm a poor sinner, and make a 
 miserable hand of it. Do pray for me. " 
 
 I commenced praying, according to his request, and 
 very unexpectedly to me, he repeated my words in an 
 audible voice. Perceiving his intention, I uttered short 
 sentences, and made a pause after each of them. He fol- 
 lowed me with great exertion and emotion. Sometimes 
 he faltered, then was silent, while a few petitions were 
 offered, and again repeated my words, until his tongue 
 would serve him no longer. The scene was awfully so- 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 1 13 
 
 lemn, not only to me, but to a crowd of paupers, who 
 nearly filled the room. Inexpressibly horrible is the 
 death of a drunkard! 
 
 Descending from this room into the cellar, I found 
 
 Mr. B e, of sixty-two years, whose companion, the 
 
 wife of his youth, died about a week since. From that 
 hour he has rapidly declined. The vine, which had long 
 shaded the old oak, was torn away, and the scorching 
 sun has withered its branches. The mouldering trunk 
 will fall soon. 
 
 The man could not speak to me, but signified by ex- 
 pressive gesticulation that he desired prayers. Once or 
 twice he attempted to repeat the words of my address, 
 but I could only distinguish, in a whisper, a part of the 
 publican's petition, which almost every dying sinner, who 
 feels his guilt at all, finds appropriate to his condition. 
 
 From him I turned to a woman, who has been three 
 months in the same helpless situation. She informed me 
 that she read her prayers every day, and should it please 
 God to take her out of the world, she should be very 
 thankful for his kindness. 
 
 It is NOT a pious feeling in myself, I must acknowledge, 
 which makes me shrink back from disagreeable duties, 
 and desire, in a moment of gloom, to depart from a world 
 in which I have found abundant sin, disappointment, and 
 misery; but whether this poor woman's resignation is of 
 the right kind or not, I will not pretend to determine. 
 
 June Wth. 
 To day, W — t and B — e have appeared before God. 
 This afternoon I have visited two wards of the hospital^ 
 
 K 2 
 
114 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 in which I gave a general exhortation to all present, besides 
 particularly conversing with three patients. 
 
 J B will not be comforted. He has been in 
 
 the habit of reposing confidence in his past experience of 
 the love of God, wrought within him, and cannot be con- 
 vinced that it is safe to trust himself anew to Christ for 
 pardon and salvation. Those who have not received lu- 
 cid instructions upon the doctrine of justification, who 
 have not been taught a thousand times, that the sole 
 ground of their salvation is without them, are liable to 
 perpetual disquiet. Their feelings change; they hope for 
 salvation, because of pious feelings; and why should 
 not their hope of heaven fluctuate in the twinkling of an 
 eye? 
 
 This unhappy man has been ignorantly attempting to 
 make his imperfect personal righteousness answer that 
 purpose for which the righteousness of Christ alone is 
 sufficient. No sinner ever ought to perform a command- 
 ed duty, or desire the lively exercise of any christian 
 grace, with the expectation or design of securing heaven, 
 even'in part, by his obedience. He must be pious from 
 some otjier motive, or he will dishonour the mediatorial 
 work of Jesus Christ. 
 
 J B continues to spit blood, and must soon 
 
 die. He knows it too, and discovered that solicitude 
 which becomes a dying man. I repeated to him Newton's 
 fable of "the spider and the toad," to convince him in a 
 familiar way, that the sinner must continue to apply to 
 Christ for pardon and consolation, with that repentance 
 which is unto life; but when I came to that part which 
 speaks of the removal of the healing plant, and the death 
 of the toad, from the sting of the spider, he exclaimed, 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 115 
 
 *' and that will be my easel" It was in vain I told hini, 
 " 'Tis here the happy difF'rence lies, 
 My Saviour reigns above the skies, 
 Yet to my soul is always near, 
 For he is God and every where. 
 His blood a sovereign balm is found 
 For every grief and every wound ; 
 And sooner all the hills shall flee 
 And hide themselves beneath the sea; 
 Or ocean, starting from its bed, 
 Rush o'er the cloud-top mountain's head; 
 The sun, exhausted of its light. 
 Become the source of endless night; 
 And ruin spread from pole to pole, 
 Than Jesus fail the tempted soul." 
 
 One man, Calvin Otis, with whom I have several times 
 conversed, is a native of Connecticut. Until to-day, he 
 has been attentive to what I said, but quite reserved. 
 This afternoon, he introduced a long dialogue, by saying, 
 *' that men could not have religion by merely saying, God, 
 be merciful to me a sinner." 
 
 "True" I replied, "for even a parrot may be taught 
 to repeat those words; but no man ever prayed for mer- 
 cy, from faith in the Saviour of sinners, who was finally 
 lost. It is one thing to use the form of prayer, and 
 quite another thing to pray." 
 
 "But the thing is," he rejoined, *'to know that we 
 really have that faith, and are not deceived.'* The ques- 
 tion was proposed, "do you doubt of the truth of the 
 Bible?" 
 
 He assured me that he did not; but thought it very diffi- 
 cult for any one to know that he possessed true religion. 
 He was ** brought up" in the family of the late Rev. Mr. 
 
116 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 Little, of his native place, *'to a religious life," and 
 thought, until lately, that he had "a good deal of reli- 
 gion;'* but now he doubted whether he had ever possess- 
 ed any. Thirteen years ago he came to this city to live, 
 and for the last four years had been with three of his 
 children, who are settled in the southern part of our coun- 
 try. In all the places in which he sojourned south of Pitts- 
 burgh, and particularly in New Orleans, he could find very 
 little religion. On the sabbath, the people would race 
 horses and gamble. Most of the people whom he saw 
 were deists or atheists. 
 
 ** Well, did it not grieve you to be without religious so- 
 ciety, and to see people live so wickedly?" 
 
 It did, for almost three years; but during the last year, 
 he feared that he had been as bad as any of them. By 
 degrees his faith was unhinged, and he learned the wicked 
 ways of the people with whom he lived. Now he desired 
 truly to bewail his sins. He found that he must start 
 anew, or perish; for he could take no pleasure in any 
 thing that was past. Now all his former knowledge 
 and experience of vital piety afforded him no ground of 
 hope. 
 
 *'It never should be the ground of a sinner's hope. 
 The Lord Jesus Christ is the only foundation for christian 
 hope. 
 
 *' Too many have supposed, that they should be saved, 
 because of some good work performed in them by the 
 Holy Spirit. Sanctification is an evidence of such vital 
 union, by faith, to the Lord Jesus Christ, as ensures saU 
 vation; but it is in no case the reason lohy we are united 
 to the Redeemer, and justified through his blood; for 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 117 
 
 then it must have influence before its existence, and sup- 
 plant the meritorious services of the Saviour." 
 
 It was stated to the sick man, that his late defection 
 was calculated to make him seriously question the ge- 
 nuineness of his former faith; for nothing but habitual 
 hatred of sin, sorrow for it, and struggles against it, can 
 afford continued evidence of saving faith. That belief 
 of the truth, which is not followed by contrition, godly 
 fear, and diligence in the performance of religious du- 
 ties, is vain. 
 
 The stated preacher has invariably insisted on the 
 necessity of repentance, as well as faith, in all his inter- 
 course with the poor of his charge; for although faith 
 has the precedence among the christian graces, yet no 
 one of them is ever found alone. That man who saving- 
 ly believes the testimony of God, concerning sinners and 
 the Saviour, will hate iniquity, and turn from it, while 
 he works not for the purpose of justifying himself, **but 
 believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly." 
 
 One circumstance appeared very favourable- When 
 any syllable reminded him of his religious education, he 
 appeared to be deeply affected ; and when he learned that 
 I was acquainted with the inhabitants of his native town, 
 he asked if several of his early acquaintance had become 
 persons of religious character. When he was answered 
 in the affirmative concerning many of them, it appeared 
 to afford him great pleasure. 
 
 For such a person every believer would pray, " O Lord, 
 if he ever knew thee, return to him in tender mercy: if 
 not, now give him to know Jesus, which is life eternal; 
 and may his future obedience evince to himself and others 
 
I 18 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 the sincerity of his faith, the transforming efficacy of th 
 
 love of Christ. 
 
 June 14/A. 
 
 This afternoon I have visited six wards of the hospital. 
 In all, the patients were attentive; and many of them 
 thanked me, not only with words, but tears. J — B — , 
 the desponding man, is disposed to pray; but retains 
 nearly the same dejection of spirits. 
 
 In one of the wards of coloured people I had a long 
 conversation with J — J — , who is thirty years of age, ac- 
 cording to the account of his master; but his gray beard 
 indicates him to be at least fifty. 
 
 He thinks that he has been much deceived, but cannot 
 ascertain his years. He had heard people say, that all 
 were sinners; and he knew that he had done wrong; but 
 he did not know of any way in which a sinner could be 
 saved. 
 
 **Has no one ever instructed you in religion?" 
 
 He had heard people say that men could be saved, but 
 he could not think how. This led me to preach Christ 
 to him; and since he had been a sailor, to explain familiar- 
 ly the doctrine of substitution. I asked if he had ever 
 seen one man tied up to the shrouds for another? " Uiat 
 J have seen; and know7i him flogged too/'' 
 
 " Yet it was by his own consent." 
 
 *^0 yes, or it would have been wrong.'' 
 
 ^*But after the substitute was chastised, it would have 
 been wrong to punish, with the same stripes, the man 
 whom he represented." 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 1 19 
 
 All this, he said that he could understand. 
 
 " Now you must know, that God sent his only Son, by 
 that Son's consent, to take the sinner's place, and be made 
 a curse, bearing the chastisement of his peaces so that the 
 sinner who believes in Christ, taking him for his Saviour, 
 cannot be condemned." 
 
 ''' It stands to reason. then,'* said the black man, ''that if 
 believers' sin ever so much, they will not be punished for it, be- 
 cause Christ was punished in their place.'* 
 
 " That is truej but do you think that any one who trusts 
 in Christ for salvation from sin, would consent to sin, be- 
 cause Jesus had suffered death for him ?" He thought 
 ''that would NOT stand to reason." 
 
 Then I told him the consequence of knowing the way 
 of life, only to reject it. 
 
 He confessed, that he had always been very wicked, 
 and asserted, that no one had ever '' taught him about re- 
 ligion," but now he thought that he should ''attend to it 
 with his might; for such a thing ought to be stuck to, all one's 
 life." 
 
 Other interesting conversations I had, which want of 
 time prevents me from relating. God bless his word. 
 
 In the evening I preached in the alms-house, to a crowd- 
 ed audience, and then visited a Mr. L se, aged seventy- 
 nine years, who for some time has been an inhabitant of 
 this place, through the imbecility of age. He has been a 
 regular attendant on public worship, and appears to have 
 scriptural views. Soon he will leave his miserable resi- 
 dence here below, and perhaps exchange it for one eternal 
 in the heavens. 
 
120 VISITS OF MERCY- 
 
 June \6tk. 
 
 After public worship in the alms-house, I visited four 
 wards, gave an exhortation in each, and prayed with the 
 sick in three of them. My gracious God, what a scene 
 of misery do thine eyes behold! How great must be the 
 wickedness of a fallen world, which the Heavenly Fa- 
 ther chastises with so much wretchedness, as even I 
 
 discerned. First, I went to see old Mr. L se, who is 
 
 yet alive, but who will spend no more sabbaths on earth. 
 In the bed next to him, directly before my face, lay the 
 corpse of a younger man than himself, who was lately 
 from Philadelphia, and who yesterday walked out into the 
 city. It was a solemn scene. The old man could not 
 speakj but made me understand that he desired to unite 
 in prayer. He has ever been a punctual attendant on the 
 Dutch church; and since he has resided in this place, has 
 loved the gates of Zion. Beside him stood an aged friend, 
 looking upon him with great tenderness, who has long 
 been his companion in poverty, to whom the dying man 
 gave his hand, and would have said, *' brother in adver- 
 sity, adieu;" but his tongue refused to move. 
 
 From this abode of the living, the dying, and the dead, 
 I went into the ward of destitute, sick, and rejected fe- 
 males. Here the outcasts full of sores, meet together: 
 and not fewer persons than thirty, I saw, who are literally 
 half consumed. I addressed the stolen country girl, who 
 bears the name of Amy W — n. Whether this is her 
 real name or not, I cannot say, for on her left arm I saw, 
 in India ink, the initials J. f C. and under them, the let- 
 ters A. W. which have apparently been made since the 
 first. She told me that she could not expect to recover; 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 121 
 
 and in God's name I exhorted her; but because she is too 
 sad, or too hardened to weep, she wept not. Still I hope 
 from her attention to divine truth, and apparent gratitude 
 to the messengers of pardon, that all her convictions were 
 not washed away by her floods of tears in the hospital. 
 
 Having given a general invitation to the gospel feast, 
 and offered prayers in this room, I visited M — B — . 
 She told me, that she did not feel her sins to be a heavy 
 burden upon her, weighing her down into hell, as she did 
 a few months ago; because she believed in Christ, and 
 hoped he would pardon her; while at the same time she 
 knew, that her crimes were as many, as odious, and as 
 deserving of damnation, as they formerly were. While 
 I was conversing with this outcast female, at my back 
 lay a young girl, of round features, of dark complexion, 
 of eighteen years, who at this early period is brought to 
 the borders of an untimely grave. When I asked M— • 
 if I should pray with them, this poor thing, who had 
 been listening, cried out with great earnestness, " O do! 
 do, sir!" After prayer, I turned my attention to her; and 
 her cheeks were of scarlet; her lips were pale; she trem- 
 bled; but closed her eyes as in the sleep of death, and 
 could not be persuaded to answer a word. 
 
 I went into one of the hospital rooms, in which Mrs. 
 B — , the nurse, is a mother to the sick; and in which I 
 preached on Monday evening last. Here I saw one, whom 
 I never expected to see in this grand charnel-house of the 
 city. She was a tall, meagre person, whose countenance 
 and manner told me that she had seen better days. So 
 soon as she perceived me, she stretched out both hands, 
 and called to me, with the overfloAving of tearful joy. 
 
 **How came you here?" was the first question which 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
122 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 escaped from my lips. " Do your friends know that you 
 are in this house? Where is your sister.'*" 
 
 My questions were soon answered. *' My kind Master 
 has sent me here. I did not like to come; but somehow he won- 
 derfully supported me. My sister is still living where you saw 
 her^ and trying to support herself .'' 
 
 ''So your sister still lives in the cellar; but do those 
 ladies who assisted you last winter know where you are.^" 
 
 They were ignorant, she said, of her present situation; 
 and they had helped her so long, that she was willing they 
 should remain ignorant. 
 
 " My blessed Saviour," said the weeping shadow, 
 whose consumption outlives common patience, " is with 
 me here; and it comforted me to think, that I could see 
 you oftener, and hear you preach, which I could not do 
 where I lived: so that I bless my Lord that he spares me, 
 that he does not banish me. O how good is Jesus to poor 
 sinners!" My heart was supported by the manifestation 
 of such resignation; and I still thought it true, that he 
 who casts his bread upon the waters, shall, after many 
 days, receive it again; for this old woman, lingering in 
 the slow consumption, has probably been assisted for as 
 many months, as -she protected the sick soldier weeks. 
 At any rate, God gives her in recompense the bread of 
 life. But, gracious God, leave me not to the charity of 
 the world: or be pleased to bestow such grace as will sup- 
 port me under all circumstances. When active usefulness 
 shall cease, and when a lesson shall no longer be taught 
 by patience in suffering, be pleased to take me from time. 
 O take me to thyself! 
 
 Leaving this good woman, I addressed the old German 
 lady, beside whom I preached on the lOth instant. At 
 
VISITS OF MERCY- 123 
 
 first she thought me the attending physician, but so soon 
 as I spoke to her, of Christ, "O my dear friend," she 
 said, "you love Jesus, and you love my soul." I per- 
 ceived that she was drawing near the close of this life, 
 and expressed my persuasion that she would soon be gone. 
 " O yes, sir, I be glad, should my blessed Lord come soon 
 and fetch m^e home: but while I can, I must eat and drink, 
 and not lay hands on myself. But I hope he'll come soon, 
 and then I shall go to my fathers, and mothers, and bro- 
 thers, and sisters." The writer asked if she spake of her 
 relatives. 
 
 She replied, '* Ol all of them in heaven are my friends 
 and relatives. I should be glad to be therej but I am in 
 the flesh still, and have not put on the perfect robe, pure 
 and white. But I shall wear It by and by." 
 
 When such a person spake, it was meet that I should 
 be silent. Indeed, I listened with great delight. 
 
 It may not be improper to add, that a very little girl 
 repeated a long hymn, and obtained a cent, which is the 
 established pecuniary premium for such exercises. 
 
 An old Scotch woman has repeatedly amused me, while 
 she taught me the im'portant lesson, of doing much good 
 at a little expense. She comes to the alms-house, with a 
 bundle of tracts; the children flock around her, and she 
 says to one, ''dear child, do you want to buy a book?" 
 
 "I ha'n't got no money," cries the boy. 
 
 " But would you give me two cents for this little book, 
 if you had them?" 
 
 "That I would." 
 
 " Well, then, if you will learn five questions and an- 
 swers, I will g^ive you one cent; and when you have learned 
 
124 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 five more, I will give you another cent; which will buy 
 the book/' 
 
 The lad consents; she calls again to hear him repeat 
 his lesson; and in this manner she has sold a cheap copy 
 of the catechism to very many of the poor children. This 
 same pious woman I have often found reading some reli- 
 gious book, to a circle of old women, who were much 
 gratified by her enunciation in that broad dialect, which 
 was natural to them, but which I could scarcely under- 
 stand. 
 
 In the afternoon I preached in the hospital, and then 
 visited five wards. 
 
 Poor J — B — died to-day in despair. 
 
 One man, who was partially blind, a sailor, followed me 
 from room to room, until, in the last, I turned my atten- 
 tion particularly to him; but even then he remained in 
 solemn silence. 
 
 In the last ward which I visited, I found one James Roe, 
 aged fifty-four years, who had been attending my lectures, 
 and who appeared to be deeply impressed. I found him, 
 as I found many in this well regulated institution, reading 
 the Bible. After I had conversed with two or three of 
 his companions, and was turning away, he said to me, 
 <* I believe what you say; I feel, and have long felt, that 
 I am a poor sinner. Once I called myself a Christian, 
 but I have behaved worse than a Turk." 
 
 "It gives me pleasure," I said, " to hear you confess 
 your sins, and I hope you do it from the heart. Are you 
 not ashamed to say before these persons, who may laugh 
 at you for your superstition, that you believe the gospel?" 
 
 ** Noy sir y for whosoever believeth on him shall not be ashamed. 
 If it was not for that I should sink into despair j for I have been 
 
VISITS 07 MERCY. 125 
 
 examining, andjind I have broken every commandment but one; 
 for I do not think I have committed murder,^* 
 
 ''But have you not been angry without a cause, and 
 does not unreasonable anther produce every instance of 
 murder which actually exists?" 
 
 " I have broken that commandment in that sense, but I never 
 really wished to kill any man.'' 
 
 '* Well, do you know how a sinner can be saved?" He 
 had the Bible open at the 10th chapter of Rotnans, and 
 said, '' I believe all this book, and every word of this chapter, 
 and particularly the ninth verse." He pointed me to the 
 place, and I read, " if thou shalt confess with thy mouth 
 the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God 
 hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." 
 *'This, however," resumed he, *' troubles me; the scrip- 
 tures say that faith without charity is nothing; and I have 
 always been a poor man, that could not have charity." 
 This he really said with great grief; but when I told him 
 that the Greek word rendered charity, really signifies love, 
 or a disposition to do good as we have opportunity, his 
 difficulty vanished. This fully convinced me that judi- 
 cious criticism is really of great importance, even for the 
 common hearer. The words of a dead language, however, 
 need not be quoted to those who do not understand them. 
 
 James Roe arose and walked the room, saying with 
 great emotion, '* if I could mourn for my sins as J ought, 
 and shed fountains of tears, it would ease me; but my heart is 
 hard." 
 
 **If you could weep as much as you desire, it would be 
 suitable, but it would be no reason why God should ae» 
 cept you," 
 
126 VISITS OF MEllCY. 
 
 ** True^ sir, I should merit nothing, if J should be in agony 
 all the rest of my life, but I feel that J ought to mounu'' 
 
 In this manner he mourned that he could not mournj 
 but, alasl he has a dominant passion! He was warned of 
 his danger, and exhorted to bring forth such fruits as are 
 becoming the profession of repentance. • 
 
 June ]8th. 
 
 This evening I preached in the alms-house, heard two 
 children repeat hymns, visited old Mr. L — se, and receiv- 
 ed from one of the poor helpless women, a bunch of roses, 
 which was all she could give in testimony of her gratitude. 
 To have rejected it, would have been unkind indeed. 
 During service, which was in the blind room, a blind me- 
 thodist preacher offered one of the prayers. His language 
 was proper, and I trust his heart sincere, but I lamented 
 that he was so vociferous as really to pain my auditory 
 nerves. Why cannot these good people use the natural 
 language of fervour and respect, without unnatural voci- 
 feration.^ Is their God afar off? Or is he deaf.^ Or is he 
 moved by such excessive noise as indicates almost every 
 thing but respect? 
 
 June \9th. 
 
 To-day I have visited seven wards in the hospital. 
 Some with eager looks followed me from room to room, 
 that they might hear of Jesus, crucified for the sins of 
 men. 
 
 Calvin Otis says that when he is full of pain, he desires 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 127 
 
 to die for two reasons; first, from a desire to be free from 
 pain, and secondly, from fear that such a poor sinner as 
 he is, will never be better prepared. 
 
 With James Roe I conversed again. Taking off his 
 hat, and looking up with the deepest reverence, he said; 
 *' I declare, sir, in the presence of God, who I think hears 
 jne, that I think I am the vilest sinner in this hospital." 
 
 This Roe has been a sailor for about forty years, and 
 says that he never took to reading the Bible much until 
 within a few months. His progress in the knowledge of 
 the scriptures is certainly wonderful. 
 
 With one Wm. H— on, who is far gone in the con- 
 sumption, I have often conversed, and particularly to-day. 
 His convictions appear to be of the right kind. He waits, 
 and even hopes for death. When about to leave the place 
 where he lies, I observed a young sailor, who was raising 
 blood profusely, and who was in tears. Before to-day I 
 had not addressed him individually, but now I found him 
 anxious about the salvation of his soul. He tells me that 
 his attention was first excited the other day, by my con- 
 versing and praying with H — on. Now the young man 
 feels that he is a sinner, and bewails it bitterly. In short, 
 1 have considerable hope concerning five or six, who are 
 now patients in this place. But, alas! the greater part 
 will hear from respect to we, who care not a rush for 
 Christ. 
 
 With a Roman Catholic patient I reasoned. He was 
 ready to confess his sins, he said; and demanded of me, 
 *' what follows.^" ^'' If you truly and humbly confess your 
 sins to God, pardon follows^ as God^sfree gifi.^^ 
 
 *'I confess my sins to my priest," said he, **and when 
 I confess to him I confess to God." 
 
128 VISITS OF MEllCY. 
 
 This is a Catholic of more than ordinary information; 
 but the other clay some sin burthened his conscience, and 
 he would neither eat, nor obey the prescription of the 
 physicians, until his confessor came to disburthen his 
 guilty soul. 
 
 The writer discoursed also with one captain Jarvis, 
 who has experienced many reverses of fortune, as the 
 world is pleased to say; but who, two years ago, after he 
 was seventy years of age, was found by Jesus Christ. He 
 converses very sensibly; is ready to live or to die, and 
 manifests an unshaken confidence in the truth of God. 
 
 "I know," said he, "that I am an old sinner; but God 
 will not lie. He says he will pardon and accept me in 
 Jesus Christ; and I am sure he will, because he says so. 
 The words of God are all faithful. O what a mercy it is, 
 that he did not let me die before he brought me to believe 
 in him; and while I was in my sins." 
 
 June 2\st. 
 
 This morning I have visited four wards of the hospital, 
 and could, had I time, relate much interesting conversa- 
 tion. Captain Jarvis talks, and appears to feel like a 
 saint. The Roman Catholic, whom I saw on Wednesday, 
 appeared to be pleased with the information, that he 
 might confess his sins to God, in anyplace: but in another 
 room I said to the dying H — on, ''continue to confess 
 your sins to God, for none can forgive sins but God alone;" 
 and did not know that a Catholic heard me. I turned 
 however to a sick man, and asked how long he had been 
 afflicted. He answered, '•^four months,'* 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 129 
 
 " Well, I hope your sickness will be sanctified to you." 
 "Sir,*' said the sickjnan, roughly, *'when I want a 
 priest I will send for one. We are of different religions." 
 This is the first open repulse, that I ever received from 
 any one of the patients. I assured him, that I claimed no 
 right to teach him, and had in no case imposed my services 
 upon any one, contrary to his inclination; but I desired him 
 to remember, that there is but one religion in heaven, and 
 but one religion that leads to heaven, which consists in 
 repentance toward God, and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 With these words I left him; but he could not help railing 
 at me, for saying to another, without a thought of hurting 
 the feelings of any one, "that all the men on earth could 
 not forgive a single sin." 
 
 June 22nd, 
 
 To-DAY captain Jarvis went home. The Catholic who 
 was well disposed, and who thought yesterday that he 
 was recovering, has likewise departed this life. Within 
 twenty-four hours, four persons have died in the hospital. 
 
 This evening I preached in the alms-house, in the hear- 
 ing of the soldier's friend, and many other afflicted per- 
 sons. 
 
 June 23 d. 
 
 Many of the inhabitants of the alms-house followed their 
 preacher to the hospital and Irish Church, to-day, that they 
 might hear, and as it were treasure up a store against the 
 time of his temporary absence, which has been announced 
 
130 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 to them. At both places of worship George sung as he 
 has invariably done, since he commenced his extensive 
 clerkship. This blind man has been of great service to 
 many; and it gives him satisfaction to be cleanly in attire 
 one day out of seven, and to change occasionally the scene 
 of his benighted life. 
 
 After the public worship is concluded in the hospital, 
 he remains there, and sings in different wards, until even- 
 ing. The nurses and patients treat him with great atten- 
 tion, and seem pleased to give him a portion of their good 
 things. They ought, truly, to communicate to him of 
 their food, for one says, *' George, will you sing this 
 hymn?" and then another pleads, that he would go to the 
 couch of another dying patient, and sing a second, third 
 or fourth sacred song. "The labourer is worthy of his 
 hire." 
 
 In this manner he performs his part, in the consolation 
 of the sick ; and not unfrequently arrests the attention of 
 those who lightly esteem the word of God. 
 
 After I have visited the hospital once more, I deem a 
 vacation necessary for my health. To depart, for a sea- 
 son, is a matter of reluctance, because many will proba- 
 bly die without instruction. When one sick man is ad- 
 dressed, many listen; and in the course of a few days, not 
 unfrequently some one of them desires " that minister" 
 to be called, who lately visited his companions. In this 
 manner, new applicants for spiritual treasures are pro- 
 cured, who would otherwise, most commonly, die in 
 stupidity. 
 
 Even so died, annually, not less than two hundred per- 
 sons, in these two institutions, before there was any esta- 
 blishment of a stated ministry for their benefit. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 131 
 
 *' But are our efforts only to be directed to the heathen? 
 Do they alone need our aid? From different parts of our 
 city cries reach us in the language of the man of Mace- 
 donia, * come over and help us.* They are the cries of 
 our Christian brethren, who once like you enjoyed the 
 benefits of a gospel ministry, but in the course of provi- 
 dence have been deprived of them. They feel their wants 
 the more sensibly, because they know from past experi- 
 ence the value of divine ordinances. Their case is pain- 
 full their necessities urgent."* 
 
 '' Is there a Christian here, who knows how to do good 
 unto all, but especially unto them that are of the household of 
 faith? Among these afflicted, who are sinking under 
 their infirmities, and have not where to lay their heads, 
 are some to whom the celestials minister, and who are 
 fellow heirs with Christ rn glory. I state the facts: I use no 
 arguments: I leave the result with your consciences, your 
 hearts, and your God."t 
 
 Were Christians solicitous as they should be to evince 
 their faith to the world by their works, were they mind- 
 ful of their high destination, or would they constantly 
 remember that there is but a step between them and death, 
 there would be no want of ministers of the gospel, nor 
 any lack of a suitable support for them. Men and money 
 enough can be found for all other purposes beside religion. 
 When was it difficult to find men, who would teach and 
 bear rule in social and civil matters ? Let us strive to act 
 for eternity under this impression, that it is appointed 
 unto all men once to die, and after the dissolution of soul 
 and body, to appear before the judgment seat of Christ. 
 
 * Dr. Uomeyn's Sermon before the Committee of Missions. 
 \ Dr. Mason's Sermon on Living- Faith. 
 
132 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 ** O death, thou king of terrors! dreadful name! 
 
 Nor rev'rend hoary age, nor blooming youth, 
 
 Nor boasted strength, escape thy fatal dart. 
 
 Not the persuasive power of beauty's charms, 
 
 Nor the soft moving tears of innocence 
 
 Can stay thy hand: nor can the miser's gold, 
 
 Nor all the treasures of the eastern shore, 
 
 Buy one short moment of relentless death." — Mrs. Steele. 
 
 Lord's Bay, July 28M. 
 
 Ov Thursday last I returned to this city, after having 
 been absent four sabbaths, and on Friday visited both the 
 institutions in which I labour. 
 
 Were a representation of the lively joy which was mani- 
 fested on this occasion to be attempted, I should undoubt- 
 edly be thought proud of the esteem of the poor. It may 
 be permitted to me, however, to state, that I could not 
 wish a more welcome reception. 
 
 In the morning of this day I preached in the alms-house 
 to many; and should have addressed more, but they could 
 not gain admission to the room. 
 
 In the afternoon some of the paupers who desired to 
 attend public worship twice on the sabbath, followed their 
 preacher to the hospital. He stood in the long gallery, 
 between two rooms, and had more hearers than could be 
 conveniently seated. It is not amiss for the well, some- 
 times to stand, and hear a discourse, but it will not favour 
 the restoration of the sick. The superintendent wisely 
 decided, that in future, no persons shall be admitted from 
 the alms-house excepting the blind clerk and his leader. 
 
 An English blood was one of the hearers in the hospi- 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 133 
 
 tal, who was brought in to have a broken knee made 
 whole. He has a fine countenance, and one who was ig- 
 norant of his history would certainly be prepossessed in 
 his favour. Such an eye as he possesses does not indicate 
 a bad temper. 
 
 But he came to this country almost destitute of pecunia- 
 ry resources, and completely devoid of principle. He 
 was soon after followed by a young lady, to whom he had 
 been long engaged, and who was so unfortunate as to love 
 him. Unworthiness is often discovered, when the heart 
 says, *'it is too late!" and when the development of cha- 
 racter presents a feeble o1)struction to the indulgence of 
 that passion which has become dominant in the soul. 
 This young woman must have imagined her pretended 
 lover worthy, when she first indulged a partiality for himj 
 and perhaps she thought that his face could not be the 
 index of dishonourable character. 
 
 When she arrived in America, (according to precon- 
 cert between them, I believe,) she had property, and he 
 had none; and being disposed to secure a little fortune, 
 Avith little trouble, he was united to her in the solemn 
 bands of wedlock, by a reverend gentleman, who can at- 
 test the fact. 
 
 It might have been expected, that from this day, ac- 
 cording to covenant, they should be no longer twain, but 
 one. This was not the case, for the young man having 
 come into possession of her property, before the night of 
 the day of their marriage, sailed on a mercantile expedi- 
 tion to one of the southern islands, where he contrived 
 to squander the four or five thousand dollars, which he 
 had obtained by a sort of connubial swindling. 
 
 After some time he returned to this city, and avoided 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
134 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 seeing the woman whom he had deeply injured. He 
 boarded in a respectable family, and sought to ^ain the 
 affections of another young lady, whom he persuaded him- 
 self that he loved to desperation. 
 
 The rumour, that Mr. was already married, came 
 
 to the ears of the father of the female whom he sought, 
 and in consequence of this, the young man was banished 
 from the house. The fact of his union to the woman 
 who claimed him for her husband, he solemnly deniedj 
 but at this critical juncture he was arrested in the public 
 streets by a civil officer, who would have led him to the 
 proper abode of such a cockney. The prisoner requested 
 that he might be permitted to ride to Bridewell, because 
 he was a gentleman: and assured the man in authority, that 
 if he would relinquish his hold of the bridle, there should 
 be no escape, no resistance. Repeatedly the blood pro- 
 mised, by all that was sacred, to ride with his keeper 
 peaceably to the place of destination. Behold, now, the 
 value of this exclamation, *'upon my sacred word and 
 honour!" So soon as the officer believed the assertion, 
 the person whom he trusted, put spurs and whip to his 
 horse, that he might escape. Away he fled like John 
 Gilpin; and the officer followed hard after him; but the 
 way of transgressors is hard; for in full career through 
 Broadway, the horse of the fugitive dashed his rider 
 against a cart, and fractured his leg. By this event he 
 was made a prisoner again; and now is not only a patient, 
 but a prisoner in the hospital. What is to be the issue I 
 know not; but I could wish that he might return to his 
 senses, and prove himself a faithful husband to her who 
 is his lawfully wedded wife. 
 
 It is said, that she still tenderly regards him, and would 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 135 
 
 gladly pardon all his misconduct. Something within him 
 should say, 
 
 " Can that soft fabric stem affliction's tide ^ 
 Canst thou, fair emblem of exalted truth. 
 To sorrow doom the summer of thy youth; 
 And I, perfidious! all that sweetness see 
 Consign'd to lasting misery for me?" — Falconer, 
 
 August \st. 
 
 Eight wards of the hospital have been visited to-day, 
 in such a parochial way, as I suppose faithful pastors 
 visit the families of their congregations. My own mo- 
 tives I shall not presume to state, for my readers would 
 be dependent on the testimony of one person concerning 
 himself; but this may be asserted, and I trust accredited, 
 that more apparent good has resulted from personal con- 
 versations, than from public discourses. These should 
 never be separated. A popular sermon resembles a note 
 of hand; and the private application which should follow 
 is like the endorsement, which often proves the most im- 
 portant part of the instrument. An old pastor, of my 
 acquaintance, has been in the habit of saying to young 
 ministers, ''remember to back your discourses well, in 
 your intercourse with your people." 
 
 When a few personal questions are proposed to a pa- 
 tient, he feels, like that man who was the only auditor of 
 a clergyman on a rainy sabbath, that the doctrine must 
 be intended for himself, and not for others. The circum- 
 stance, that he was the only hearer, so powerfully arrested 
 his attention, that the sermon, which he then heard, was 
 sanctified to his conviction of sin, and conversion to God* 
 
136 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 In one of the wards, an aged woman, whom all denomi- 
 nate '* grandmother,*' was yet alive, while a sweet little 
 child, which the Almoners of the Dorcas Society found 
 half starved in a garret, clothed, and placed in the hospi- 
 tal, was dead. This society is of modern origin; and has 
 already done much good. The members of it deserve an 
 honourable record of this fact, that they make all the gar- 
 ments which they distribute, with their own hands. One 
 of the company reads some entertaining book, while all 
 the other members ply the needle. From unfeigned re- 
 spect to the ladies of this charity, the writer begs their 
 acceptance of the following 
 
 HYMN. 
 
 The heavens declare Jehovah's praise. 
 
 Let earth her incense yield. 
 For He who clothes the sun with rays, 
 
 With verdure clothes the field. 
 
 In gay attire the lilies stand, 
 
 With ev'ry humble flow'r. 
 To own their drap'ry from his hand 
 
 Who mingles love with pow'r. 
 
 He gives each bird a plumy dress 
 
 To shield it from the storm; 
 And to preclude a hare's distress, 
 
 A vestment soft, and warm. 
 
 From heav'n's high wardrobe ev'ry lamb 
 
 With fleecy wool is drest, 
 And ev'ry lion with his dam 
 
 Receives a sackcloth vest. 
 
 The tender tribes are finest clad. 
 
 And coarser clad the bold. 
 But heaven permits not tigers road 
 
 To perish with the cold, 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. iS7 
 
 When the first pair of human race 
 
 Knew exigence by sin, 
 A sacrifice prefigurM grace. 
 
 And coats were made of skin. 
 
 He makes the flaxen herbage grow; 
 
 He bids the silk-worm spin. 
 And cotton thrive, in summer's glow, 
 
 To yield us garments thin. 
 
 In spring, their fleece the flocks divide 
 
 With ev'ry northern clan, 
 To warm mankind, and humble pride 
 
 In ev'ry fallen man. 
 
 To imitate her Maker's love 
 
 Good Dorcas was intent. 
 And when ascending far above 
 
 A pattern downward sent. 
 
 Some females found it, and have made 
 
 Like vestments for the poor. 
 The naked poor of ev'ry grade, 
 
 The white child, and the Moor. 
 
 In robes of heaven- wrought righteousness 
 
 May ev'ry Dorcas shine, 
 And bless'd by others, Jesus bless. 
 
 For garments all divine. 
 
 Almost every face in the ward of courtesans was new to 
 me; but I found one sad young thing, called Caroline, 
 reading the Bible, and commended her conduct in search- 
 ing the scriptures. "I think it, sir," she replied, *'the 
 best of books, while I am confident that I have violated 
 all its principles.'* 
 
 In another ward, I approached the bed of the young 
 Englishman, and conversed with a sicit man, whose wife 
 
 M 2 
 
138 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 supported her husband's head on the next couch. What 
 I said to this person was as much designed for the Eng- 
 lishman as himself; but I avoided the appearance of 
 knowing any thing about the latter. When I was turn- 
 ing away, the apparently neglected young man said, *'we 
 all feel indebted to you, sir, for your attentions, and I 
 hope we shall profit from them." His words were ut- 
 tered in a soft tone, and with a pleasingly pensive coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 Hastily turning around to him, and fixing my eyes 
 firmly on him, with mingled emotions, I said, ''it would 
 give me great delight to be of service to you all. I am 
 constrained to acknowledge, that had not divine power 
 prevented, I might have been in your situation; and there- 
 fore do not imagine that I reproach you, from any dispo- 
 sition to say, ' God, I thank thee, that I have made myself 
 to differ.' " 
 
 When I gazed on his mild eyes, they looked something 
 like ingenuous shame, and they were cast down. Who 
 could believe the story of his baseness.^ 
 
 *' Forlorn of hope, the lovely maid he left, 
 Pensive and pale, of ev'ry joy bereft. 
 She to her silent couch retir'd to weep, 
 While her mad swain embarked upon the deep." 
 
 '' You appear to be of my age, and I presume, in rela- 
 tion to worldly prospects, have seen better days. May 
 your latter end be better than the beginning of life." 
 
 '* I am twenty-five years of age," said the youth with a 
 smile, and intimated that he was gratified with the interest 
 which a stranger appeared to take in his welfare. 
 
 " We have lived long enough to know the vanity of 
 that 'world, whicli lieth in wickedness.' I have tasted 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 1 .S9 
 
 of the bitter cup of disappointment, vexation, sorrow, 
 and anguish, because, through my whole life, I have been 
 a sinner. Let me tell you, friend, that all your troubles 
 are the effects and due punishments of your own wicked- 
 ness." 
 
 After this speech, he said that he would frankly confess 
 himself a gay and thoughtless fellow; but it was from the 
 want of reflection that he had yielded to almost every 
 temptation. 
 
 *' Now, then, you have time for reflection. ' In the day 
 of adversity consider,' for ' thus saith the Lord, consider 
 your ways.' If you are not brought to serious reflection 
 on the past, if you make no preparation for the future, 
 your suff'erings will be of no use, and all, even the soul, 
 will be lost for ever." 
 
 After much confusion of face he recovered confidence, 
 and diverted the discourse from personal applications of 
 truth, to doctrinal discussion. He proposed many ques- 
 tions about the nature of repentance, the certainty of di- 
 vine forgiveness, and the evidences of a future judgment. 
 
 Repentance, in general, was stated to be such a change 
 in a person's conceptions as is inseparably connected with 
 regret for past conduct, and a determination to pursue a 
 different course in future. Repentance relates to our own 
 actions; for I may lament the misconduct of others, but 
 can never repent for their transgressions. Evangelical, or 
 saving repentance,is such a change in a person's conceptions 
 of evangelical truth, as is inseparably connected with regret 
 for past sin, hatred of it, and solemn purpose of new obe- 
 dience. From an apprehension of the mercy of God in 
 Christ, the penitent feels the emotions of hatred against 
 all unbelief, and of earnest desire to live a life of faith on 
 
140 VISITS OF MERGY. 
 
 the Son of God. This change of mind will produce a 
 corresponding alteration in the external conduct. 
 
 The certainty that God will forgive the sins of every 
 believer, so as not to punish him for one of them, was 
 proved by some of the positive assertions of Jehovah, 
 which are recorded in the Holy Scriptures. 
 
 That there will be a future, general judgment, may be 
 rendered probable, from a statement of the principles of 
 distributive justice, and the proof of the fact, that, in the 
 present world, all men are not treated by the moral Gover- 
 nor of the universe according to their conduct: but, when 
 it is granted that the scriptures were given by inspiration 
 of God, it is enough to read, that God "hath appointed a 
 day in the which he will judge the world in righteousness." 
 
 The same young man argued in favour of a state of in- 
 sensibility between death and the resurrection, " because,'* 
 he said, " none can be miserable until they are condemned.'* 
 He had forgotten that unbelievers " are condemned al- 
 ready,*' that the whole family of Adam is subjected to 
 partial punishment in, the present life, in consequence of 
 the universal condemnation, and that future sufferings 
 will be nothing more than the protracted vengeance of 
 the original curse. The day of final judgment will ra- 
 ther witness the confirmation of the first sentence of con- 
 demnation, than present a new one; for then such as have 
 been unclean, and abominable, and accursed, will be as- 
 sured that they shall remain "filthy still," and "go away 
 into everlasting punishment." If it remains still to be 
 decided whether men shall come under the sentence of 
 condemnation, why do they suffer.^ why do they die.^^ Can 
 it be possible, that God inflicts the penalty of his law upon 
 mortals, without solemnly deciding that they are guilty? 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 141 
 
 Many of the common arguments against the slumber 
 of the soul for ages, which were conclusive in the mind 
 of the speaker, were then exhibited, and the Englishman 
 was left to his reflections, but not without the expression 
 of a prayer, that God would make him wise and happy. 
 
 That a young man, who possesses a good mind, pleas- 
 ing manners, and many personal accomplishments, should 
 marry to defraud a young lady of her money, squander it 
 upon his lusts, seduce the unsuspecting, engage himself 
 to be married again, "pawn his sacred honour," violate 
 it the next moment, and traduce his lawful wife, by say- 
 ing that he had, during courtship, kept her as his mis- 
 tress, exhibits in strong colours the odious depravity of 
 unsanctified human nature. 
 
 I next visited the room in which I was accustomed to 
 see the old sailor, James Roe. The last time I had an 
 interview with him, was on the day before I left the city 
 for the country. 
 
 I met him in a solitary part of the hospital. He arose, 
 bowed, and said, "Sir, I am glad to see you: I wish to 
 speak to you: I want to know what sins a believer may be 
 left to commit." 
 
 It was not in the power of any man to tell him what sin, 
 except blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, the renewed 
 man might not, when tempted, and in a measure deserted, 
 perpetrate. With much solemnity he wished to know 
 what was the sin of blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, 
 for he confessed himself a blasphemous wretch. There 
 is a sin unto death, which we are not to pray that God 
 would pardon. It is a sin, which springs from conscious 
 enmity to what is known to be the gracious operation of the 
 Holy Spirit. It is a public^ wilful sin of the tongue, against 
 
142 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 the Holy Ghost; in which a person desirous of destroying 
 experimental religion, imputes, contrary to the dictates 
 of his own conscience, the divine operations in the per- 
 formance of miracles, or in convincing, converting, and 
 sanctifying sinners, to the devil, or some devilish priest- 
 craft. 
 
 This sin Roe thought that he had not committed, but 
 said, with tears streaming from his eyes, "I sin so enor- 
 mously and so repeatedly, that I fear there is no mercy 
 for me. When I hear you preach I believe what you say, 
 and last Sunday I wanted to hide myself, and cry my Jill} 
 but yesterday I fell into my old sins again. You do not 
 know what a sinner I am." 
 
 *' But Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners 
 from themselves and from Hell, and the greatness of your 
 sin cannot exclude you from heaven, if you truly believe 
 and repent.'* 
 
 " Sifj IconfesSf^^ said Roe, falling on his knees, — '* con- 
 fess not to me, for I am a sinner!" — " Sir, J confess to God, 
 that I am the vilest, hell-deserving sinner, and I pray God to 
 take away my sins,^^ 
 
 His attitude, his tears, his unaffected agony of soul, 
 accompanied with the conviction, that in spite of the ter- 
 rors of the Lord he would yield to the dominion of ardent 
 spirits, made me tremblingly ask myself, "Lord, what is 
 man.^" Were it not for the habit of intemperance, might 
 not this sinner enter the kingdom of heaven. ^ 
 
 James Roe was now gone, not to the grave, as most 
 seamen do, before they have floated half the number of 
 his days, but to the cityj and I fear will soon arrive at one 
 world of spirits, which will prove an awful prelude to 
 the other. In his place, I found a respectable, white- 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 143 
 
 headed man, Mr. T. S. C — , who entertained me with a 
 long religious conversation, which was like a sermon to 
 the patients of the room, from one of their companions. 
 The substance of his conversation, and of his language, 
 was this. 
 
 '* I am an old man: I have travelled muchj and par- 
 ticularly in the southern part of our country. There 
 people call me a fatalist, because I maintain that God con- 
 vinces of sin, God works faith, God pardons, God justi- 
 fies, and God saves the sinner from divine self-moving 
 goodness. When I was in Washington a methodist came 
 many miles to hold a disputation with me, and prove that 
 I was a fatalist; but finally, he confessed that God awakens, 
 alarms, convinces, and converts the sinner, so that I had 
 only to thank him for coming to me with the confession 
 of the truth. One thing I shall maintain with my latest 
 breath, that no sinner would ever be saved, were it not 
 for the compelling grace of God; for after the sinner is 
 converted, he keeps drawing back to sin. My only con- 
 solation is, that if God intends to save me, he will not suf- 
 fer me to sin, so as finally to fall away. The reason 
 why people call me fatalist, is, because they are Armi- 
 nians. " 
 
 With much similar doctrine and language, the old man 
 spake for nearly half an hour, and then fell back exhausted 
 on his pillow. Half the doctors do not teach so well as 
 this man. 
 
 Among the events which deserve a place in the short, 
 but faithful annals of the poor, is the foundation of the 
 new alms-house. The corner-stone was laid on this 1st 
 day of August, A. D. 1811. 
 
 The new building will be erected a few miles from the 
 
144 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 city, in an airy situation, near the east river. It is to be 
 much larger than the present, and divided in such a man- 
 ner as to prevent all improper intercourse between the 
 paupers. It will also contain a chapel for public worship, 
 in which I hope some one, or many, will preach the gos- 
 pel of salvation to the poor. 
 
 The honourable corporation of this city have deserved 
 the applause of their fellow-citizens for laying the corner- 
 stone of an edifice, which will, in the opinion of every 
 benevolent man, be a more distinguished ornament of 
 this metropolis than the beautiful marble hall of justice. 
 The latter is one of the finest structures in our countryj 
 but the plain walls of the former will have more glory. 
 
 In this place, the reader may not be displeased with an 
 extract from an anonymous letter, addressed to the stated 
 preacher; which appears to be in the autograph of some 
 venerable clergyman. 
 
 *' What is our world but an alms-house and a hospital! 
 Are not all upon alms ? Who made the world for us ? 
 Who hath spread out the heavens for entertainment, for 
 our dignity, and for our glory ^ Who from the heavens 
 poureth down daily bounties on every living thing ? Who 
 hath stretched abroad the sea, filling it with its treasures, 
 conveying on its surface the fulness of every clime ? 
 Who hath ordained the vegetable, the animal, and the 
 mineral kingdoms, that they should contribute of their 
 bounties to the use and ornament of man ? Who hath 
 ordained to us life, and health, and friendships, and em- 
 ployments, and profits, and riches ? Are not all these, 
 in measure and sort, best suited to our condition, poured 
 out from the store-house of God's infinite fulness? Do 
 they not fall as alms upon impotent, impoverished, and 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 145 
 
 needy mortals here below ? Surely we are all receivers 
 of alms. God is the Grand Almoner of the universe. An- 
 gels and men, heaven and earth, must subscribe to this 
 doctrine. 
 
 *' Pensioners we all are. Life we did not procure, and 
 life we cannot keep. Health may be enjoyed, but who can 
 endorse upon it? Riches may be in hand, but who can 
 command that they should never flee away? Friends may 
 surround us, but who can blunt the edge of death, that it 
 shall never mow them down? Mental strength, vivid 
 imagination, and powers of utterance, like dew-drops, 
 may sparkle about our head, but shall not the scorching 
 sun and blowing wind soon dry and shake our leaves? 
 Alas! alas! how soon is gone, what man may most call 
 his own! From stations of honour, from the sanctuaries 
 of learning and religion, how soon fade the gifts, which 
 form the wreath of human glory! Certainly the most 
 celebrated persons were the recipients of alms. They 
 deserved them not, they procured them not, they retained 
 them not. Can less be said of your congregation at the 
 alms-house? They are only stripped of what once they 
 were, from the free bounty of heaven. They have lived 
 upon the alms-house from their birth; and so have we, 
 and so has every man. If you are ashamed to preach at 
 the alms-house of one city, look up, and be astonished 
 that the Deity should condescend to minister of his alms 
 to such a thousand cities, in such a thousand ways! What 
 a glorious and full handed Almoner must the Almighty 
 be! He deals out worlds, and their inhabitants; kingdoms 
 and their hosts; men with their families; and appoints to 
 them their supplies. Glorious God ! we bow at thy ful- 
 
 VOL I. N 
 
146 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 ness, astonished at thy goodness, and are humbled at the 
 sight of our emptiness! 
 
 " Your alms-house, then, is an epitome of the universe! 
 All dependent, all needy, all provided for! What then is 
 the hospital? It is a commentary on the alms-house. It 
 teaches, that well as we may be provided for in meats and 
 drinks, the hospital must receive us at last. As fully as 
 your city is supplied, it must have its hospital. As healthy 
 as the inhabitants may appear, there must be a sick room: 
 and long as some may promise to live, they must die: so 
 that all who have drawn their supplies from the great 
 store-house of God's bounty through life, must come to 
 the hospital of infirmity and of death, at last."* 
 
 The founders and supporters of the new alms-house, 
 therefore, are permitted to become workers with God, in 
 relieving misery, feeding the poor, healing the sick, and 
 promoting the happiness of needy mortals. 
 
 August '2nd, 
 
 This afternoon was devoted to the visiting of six wards 
 in the alms-house. 
 
 The guardian of the sick soldier has revived a little, 
 and has left the institution. From the room in which she 
 lay, several have lately been carried to the grave. In an- 
 other ward I found Amy W — n still alive, but more ema- 
 ciated than when I saw her last, and in the same gloomy 
 stupor. In another ward, I found, besides one or two from 
 the hospital, one whom I do not disdain to call friend j for 
 
 •The author believes that the foregoing extracts were written by 
 the Rev. David Abstix. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 147 
 
 she appears to be a friend to Jesus. It was M — B — , who 
 has gained considerable flesh, and who has now some 
 hope of restoration to health; but who gives as much evi- 
 dence of penitence, as she did when in despair of life. In 
 another ward, as my shade darkened the door of the room, 
 the aged woman, introduced to notice in my record of 
 Jan. 1st, exclaimed, '* there comes my Christian friend 
 again. O sir, stop, I want to hear you talk; I want to 
 talk to you.'* 
 
 Among other things, she said, with emphasis, ''I 
 know that Jesus died for me, poor wicked me, and how 
 can I help loving him?" 
 
 I demanded if she was not afraid to say, that he had 
 died for her particularly and personally; and asked how 
 she knew it. 
 
 '' By the spirit he has given me," was her reply; **for 
 if God had'n't given his Son to die for me, he would'n't 
 have given me such faith, and hope, and love. O Jesus is 
 precious, sir, to me, for he is my Saviour; he is all my hope; 
 and I wait to go to him when he calls. I believe every 
 word he says, and that makes me alive. I live on him by 
 day and night, and that makes me forget my old age, my 
 poverty, and bodily pain." 
 
 Had I talked to this woman about Christ's dying for 
 sin in general, and not particularly to redeem the per- 
 sons of believers, I think she would not have understood 
 me. 
 
 In the blind ward I found Wm. M*D — , an old man, 
 blind ever since his remembrance, turning out button- 
 moulds. Commonly he is found at this business; for he 
 is allowed the profits of his labour. He purchases huck- 
 bones of the cooks, splits them with a hatchet, and pre- 
 
148 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 pares them, by boiling, to come under the operation of 
 his turning machine. He can make two gross in a dayj 
 and they are far superior to any of the imported button- 
 moulds. Here I saw also a widow, who has been blind 
 four years, helping herself to a few cents, daily, by cut- 
 ting walnut skewers for the butchers to give a bloated 
 consistency to their meat. She was contented with her 
 employment, and said that her first wish was to know and 
 please God. Such advice and consolation as I was able 
 to give, was bestowed upon all. God bless the poor! May 
 they be rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom of Godl 
 
 August Ath, 
 
 The room was more than full this morning at the alms- 
 house; and one person who was never present before, was 
 arrested by the truth; so that before the close of service 
 he wept like a child. Besides him, a middle-aged wo- 
 man, who has for months been attentive to the word, was 
 overcome, I hope, by the grace of God. She could not 
 restrain her feelings; and requested, after service, that 
 she might soon have opportunity to converse with me. 
 E — C — -, a tall, neat, aged, pious woman, evinced how 
 much she loved the truth, by arising from the bed, to 
 which she was confined yesterday, creeping up stairs, and 
 paying eager attention to all the parts of public worship. 
 She gave me her hand, burning with the hectic fever, and 
 death looked from her eyes upon me; but the Spirit of 
 God dwells in her soul. 
 
 I visited some aged women in another room, who al- 
 most chided me for not preaching in their presence more 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 149 
 
 frequently. They cannot follow me from room to room, 
 by reason of many infirmities. One was reading the Bible 
 when I entered, and I said, " you must comfort yourself 
 with that book, when you cannot hear the ministers of re- 
 conciliation." 
 
 '*It is my comfort," she said; *' and I am impatient 
 that you do not come, for you help me to understand it.' 
 
 In the afternoon I exchanged with Dr. Romeyn, who 
 went to the hospital, preached to my audience, and as- 
 sures me, that he was never more deeply affected in any 
 place of public worship, than at the attention of the af- 
 flicted patients. 
 
 August Sth. 
 
 In his excursions through eight wards of the hospital, 
 
 the writer found one T s J s, a miner, who was 
 
 born in America, but in youth went to England, resided 
 there several years, and spent much of his time in subter- 
 ranean regions. He has not long resided in his native 
 country. During the whole of this summer season, sick- 
 ness has prevented him from labouring more than two 
 or three days. 
 
 For the space of several weeks before he came into this 
 institution he was insane: but when reason returned, he 
 proposed to take up his residence in this temple of chari- 
 ty, that his wife might have opportunity to maintain their 
 children. 
 
 Kow he is afflicted with the dysentery; but is patient in 
 tribulation. When he first went to England, about twenty- 
 three years ago, he thinks that he was converted under 
 the preaching of Mr. John Wesley. For a few years he 
 
 N 2 
 
150 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 supposes that he grew in knowledge and grace; but since 
 that time he feels that he has, the greater part of the time, 
 been growing worse. " When I look upon myself," said 
 he, *' every one else is whole. I know that I am the chief 
 of sinners; but still I hope, because God has spoken 
 peace, through Jesus Christ." He declared that the situa- 
 tion of his wife and children was the only thing which 
 made him desire life. 
 
 ** There is, sir," he affirmed, " such a thing as a will- 
 ingness to die." Although most men will not believe it, 
 yet there is in some believers even a desire to depart. 
 
 The writer visited the young Englishman again, and 
 found him with a hymn-book by his side. He was fond 
 of conversing, and thought that '' affliction must natural- 
 ly and necessarily, without any supernatural influence, 
 make men better." This is the judgment of all who know 
 but little of the sad depravity of the human heart. Ex- 
 perience has long since decided, that if sickness and tri- 
 bulations are not sanctified by some extraneous agency, 
 they are of no personal advantage. 
 
 With Mr. T. S. C , the aged traveller, considera- 
 ble time was spent; and our conversation gained the at- 
 tention of all the patients in the room. His principal 
 fault, virhich is discoverable, is a polemic spirit, which 
 savours a little too much of bitterness. Still he thinks 
 many erroneous persons sincere Christians. In doctrine 
 he thinks all the churches are Arminian in the United 
 States, except the different denominations of Presbyte- 
 rians and Baptists. To a long hymn of thirteen stanzas, 
 which he composed in the hospital, and which contain 
 much sound doctrine, but no poetry, he has subjoined the 
 following 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 151 
 
 *' These lines go to show the impropriety of depending 
 too much on men's works, instead of grace, for salvation; 
 and also of saying that a covenant of God can be finally 
 lost, as it would argue imperfection in God, and give the 
 preference to the devil. The Arminians work by faith 
 without grace, and the Predestinarians through faith by 
 grace. The Arminians say, after God converts and de- 
 clares the soul an heir of heaven, that the devil can revoke 
 the.decree, and damn the creature at last; but the Predes- 
 tinarians urge, that when God does the work, it is eter- 
 nally done, independent of hell itself," 
 
 August \Oth. 
 
 " Yet shalt thou know, nor is the difference nice. 
 The casual fall, from impudence of vice. 
 Abandon'd guilt by active laws restrain, 
 But pause if virtue's slightest spark remain." 
 
 LAiXGHORJfB. 
 
 Six wards in the hospital I have visited to-day, and 
 prayed with many in the closing scenes of life. No ob- 
 ject interested my feelings more than the young person, 
 who, on the first day of the present month, was found 
 reading the Bible. She has a fair complexion, a soft eye, 
 a fine form, agreeable features, and hands more delicate 
 than they should be, unless she has lived in a family of 
 distinction, and is a child of affluence. 
 
 She says that she has lived only eighteen years, and 
 her many tears made me solicitous to become acquainted 
 with her whole history. Something has been collected 
 
152 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 from her, by some of the persons in the hospital, at dif- 
 ferent times, which may be partially true, wholly true, or 
 entirely false. So many romantic tales are told by the 
 patients of this sort, that few of them can be trusted. 
 
 According to her account, she was born in Guildhall, 
 in the state of Vermont. She has a father and mother 
 living, who have been divorced. All the children conti- 
 nued with their mother. One of her brothers and a sis- 
 ter are married^ but she and her youngest brother remain 
 single. Caroline, (for that is the name of the person in 
 the hospital,) was sent to a boarding school, at the dis- 
 tance of a few miles from her mother's residence, where 
 she became acquainted with a fascinating young man. 
 For three months, this young stranger, who had busi- 
 ness in the vicinity, paid her flattering attentions. At 
 the expiration of that period, with the consent of her 
 mother, who had approved of his suit, they commenced 
 a journey, with the professed intention of seeing his rela- 
 tives in P , and of being there united in marriage. 
 
 Instead of taking her to P , they came, without her 
 
 knowledge, to Pearl street in this city, where they boarded 
 with a widow and her daughter, in genteel lodgings, for 
 ten days. The seducer continued to renew his promise of 
 taking her to his friends, and of becoming her husband. 
 She loved him ardently, and therefore he succeeded in 
 quieting her apprehensions. He enticed her delicately, 
 and therefore successfully. The spoiler came, found the 
 sweet flower of the mountains, plucked it in wantonness, 
 rifled it of its fragrance, and cast it away to perish with 
 noxious weeds. She believed him true, but found him 
 false. So long had she resisted his solicitations, that he 
 consorted with others, and when he vanquished, he con- 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 153 
 
 taminated his prey. She was far from friends, without 
 money, in a strange city, under the protection of one 
 whom she criminally loved, and exposed at the same 
 time to the fear of his declining the desired union, and to 
 the horrors of an accusing conscience. In sickness she was 
 deserted, and, when scarcely able to move, sought a re- 
 treat in the hospital. 
 
 She wept abundantly, to-day, and assured me of her 
 serious intention of returning to her mother, and of de- 
 parting from iniquity. Vigorous exertions to snatch her 
 from perdition, shall be made, if I livej and the result 
 must be left to God. Success would be grateful^ but to 
 fail in the attempt will be honourable. May the Lord 
 give her repentance. 
 
 While I was preaching in the alms-house this evening, 
 four dying persons surrounded me, whose bodies were in 
 such a putrescent state, that although the nurse burned, 
 occasionally, some linen, and fumigated the room with 
 acetous evaporation, yet I loathed my necessary breath. 
 In another room I visited a dying woman, who was per- 
 fectly rational, but speechless. After a short discourse 
 was directed to her, she put out her hand towards me, 
 and then lifted it to heaven. I did not understand her 
 request. She looked upon me, in the language of earnest 
 supplication, beckoned to me to bow my head, and whis- 
 pered, " pray, pray for me." Her request being complied 
 with, she took my hand again, gave it a gentle pressure, 
 turned to heaven the aspect of gratitude, and closed her 
 eyes on all messengers of the gospel for ever, and ever. 
 
 August \5ih. 
 Two Irishmen are now in the hospital, who excite the 
 
154 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 mingled emotion of pleasure and commiseration. One 
 has lately arrived in this city, and would have gone imme- 
 diately to his relatives, who preceded him to the western 
 part of Pennsylvania, and now expect him to follow, but 
 was arrested by the dysentery, which has left him in a 
 very low condition. Beside his bed I took my seat, and 
 he turned his blue eyes on me like a brother. A smile 
 of complacency was lighted up in his countenance, when 
 I began to speak of Jesus Christ. 
 
 ^'•Should it please God,'* he said, '^ to take me up once 
 more, I should be grateful," 
 
 '' But if he allows you to wither here, what then? Does 
 he any injustice?" 
 
 *' A'b, I could not complain^ for he deals kindly with me," 
 This appeared to be the undisguised sentiment of his 
 soul. He firmly, and I think with personal application, 
 with appropriating faith, asserts the authenticity of the 
 scriptures, and the divinity of Christ. Death he appre- 
 hends must be the result of his present sickness; but still 
 assures me, that his inability to read the Bible, from opti- 
 cal weakness, is his greatest present trial. 
 
 This young man is fairer and more gentle than any of 
 his countrymen, whom I have seen. If the sons of Hi- 
 bernia were generally to resemble him, and I were a na- 
 tive of that country, in the possession of civil and religious 
 liberty, I would tune my lyre with every setting sun, and 
 strike the bold numbers of "Ireland for ever." 
 
 The other was cast in a rougher mould, and made of 
 honest, but '' sterner stuff." Until lately, he has been 
 on board of an English ship of war, of one hundred and 
 ten guns. In childhood he was taught to read the word 
 of God, and instructed in the principles of the protestant 
 
VISITS OP MEROT. 155 
 
 religion. When he left home, the sailor's wardrobe, a 
 silken handkerchief, contained the best of books, which 
 proved a sort of silent companion in most of his voyages. 
 For years he kept it as one would medicine, to be 
 used in sickness, when he could not possibly avoid it. 
 The sight of it was a reproof to himj he sometimes read 
 it by way of compensation for past neglect^ and eventual- 
 ly it proved powerful. For a few of the last years of his 
 life it has been the instrument of his consolation. It has 
 taught him that he is a sinner; that God has provided 
 salvation for rebels, and that there is neither peace nor 
 safety but under the divine protection. 
 
 " The goodness of God in preserving me," said this 
 man, *' is wonderful. I have often stood where one man 
 has been cut down on my right hand, and another on my 
 left. I thought, says I, if God pleases to preserve me 
 here, he can do itj and he has done it: for why am I 
 alive? Once, sir, it was hot work! in an action, thirteen 
 men of us were at a gun, and in the hottest of the busi- 
 ness, I thought he could preserve me therej and so he 
 did, for every rnan of us thirteen was killed, but one man 
 and myself." 
 
 Some antipathy this sailor has, but such as is very rea- 
 sonable, against those persons who, for office, make a 
 profession of religion, and partake of the Lord's supper. 
 He could not respect a petty officer of the marines, who 
 had a dispute with a private man, on the subject of their 
 respective claims to the christian character. The little 
 man, with a carving knife dangling at his hip, terminated 
 the debate by saying, with an oath, *' well, well, I am the 
 best christian, for I've come up to the holy table, and 
 you have not." The vanquished tar, indeed, had taken 
 
156 VISITS OF MKRCY. 
 
 many oaths, but never the oath of a baptized midshipman, 
 whose profane lips are imbued with sacramental wine. 
 The chaplain of the ship was equally contemptible, in 
 the opinion of the Irishman, because, to use his own 
 words, "he did not preach about spiritual things, and 
 after sermon, would spend the sabbath in playing cards, 
 in fishing, or, if near the shore, in hunting, with the 
 other officers. Once, sir, for a sermon, he took out a 
 piece of paper, and went to reading, that we ought to be 
 thankful we had such good officers, such a good king, and 
 such a good service^ and that the yoke put onus, was not 
 like the yoke Buonaparte has put on the neck of Holland. 
 Upon this, all the sailors arose and capsized their seats, 
 saying, "if he had nothing to preach to them about what 
 they needed to know, they should not hear him." 
 
 " Were you not punished," I asked, " for this contemptu- 
 ous treatment?" 
 
 " No, sirj for the officers knew that the chaplain was a 
 worthless fellow; and six hundred men were quite too 
 many for them to punish at once." 
 
 This man is of middle-age, and will probably fight his 
 last battle, with death, in the hospital. He meets not 
 the king of terrors in streams of fire, in sounds of thun- 
 der, and storms of chain-shot; but in the form of noxious 
 vapour, which, unseen, pervades the vitals, and mingles 
 deadly miasma with the purple streams of life. One 
 might as well plunge a dagger into the bosom of a ghost, 
 as contend with this en^my. 
 
 His greatest present sorrow arises, if I may believe him, 
 ■from the remembrance of the profaneness of his youth, 
 and the sins of his riper years. 
 
 The sorrows of a mother, on her death-bed, claim 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 157 
 
 peculiar respect. Mrs.Margaret Scott said," dear minister, 
 what will become of my fatherless children, when they are 
 orphans?" This woman is a member of Trinity Church, has 
 had all her children baptized there, and with many tears 
 expresses her maternal apprehension, that should she die, 
 they would nat ''be brought up to church, and taught 
 religion.*' With gratitude she acknowledges the kind 
 attentions of Mrs. J — and S — R — , who have furnished 
 her with work, and assisted her to support four children, 
 ever since she has been deserted by an intemperate 
 husband. 
 
 She united with me in prayer, in a tearful and very de- 
 vout manner; yea, when I left the room, her hands and 
 eyes were still directed to heaven in humble supplication. 
 
 August \7th. 
 *'The downcast eye, the tear that flows amain, 
 As if to ask her innocence again 5 
 The cheek that wears the beauteous robe of shame. 
 How loath they leave a gentle breast to blame!" 
 
 Langhorne. 
 
 The man who feels no compassion for a deluded female, 
 who can blush, and weep over her fall; the being who 
 does not hate the conduct of bewitching man, when it ter- 
 minates in the ruin of domestic peace, and the loss of that 
 which makes life desirable to the infatuated individual, 
 has more than a common share of original depravity. By 
 the offence of our progenitor, all men are deprived of the 
 original righteousness which he possessed, and what they 
 inherit is corruption; but some have more damning ingre- 
 dients put into their composition than others. Some are 
 born tigers, and some lions, and some foxes, and some like 
 
 VOL. I. O 
 
158 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 the timid deer, or the *' shorn lamb,*' to which God tem- 
 pers the storm. 
 
 The amiable sort of men would be moved at the sight 
 of seventeen females, withering in one room, in the morn- 
 ing of lifej and the Christian would speak to them, with 
 something of that meekness and tender concern which 
 characterized his divine Master. 
 
 Caroline was one of the number. I found and left her 
 in tears. Her mother, her ''poor mother," was the 
 theme of her discourse, and the remembrance of her, the 
 cause of tears. For some months the mother has not heard 
 a word from her daughter, and is at this. moment ignorant 
 of her situation. 
 
 I proposed to write to her mother. She declined, and 
 said she had thought of writing herself; but could not en- 
 dure the thought of letting her parent know her circum- 
 stances. 
 
 *'You have another parent, whom you have more 
 deeply offended." 
 
 She knew it, she said, but confessed that she was more 
 anxious for her mother than herself. "Were it not for 
 paining my mother, and exciting her fears, I would write. 
 It is my most earnest desire to cast myself down before 
 her. Were it possible, I would go on foot to her as I am, 
 and confess all my sins." 
 
 "In that manner you must go to a forgiving God; for 
 he alone can reform your heart and life. Before him you 
 must appear in all your iniquities." 
 
 Another scene I have witnessed to-day, which is worthy 
 of record on the annals of the poor. Well did Agur pray, 
 "give me not poverty, lest I be poor and steal, and take 
 the name of my God in vain." His honour the mayor. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 159 
 
 De Witt Clinton, in the performance of his official duty, 
 passed sentence on about thirty culprits, for their respec- 
 tive offences against the laws of the country. In the com- 
 pany, vj'hich stood at the bar of judgment, was a young 
 man, of reputable appearance, on whom leaned a delicate 
 young female, who was dressed with taste, and had the 
 demeanour of a lady. The young man had lately come 
 from Europe to Massachusetts, and, by his gentlemanly 
 address, personal attractions, professions of love, or some- 
 thing else, which captivated the affections, gained the 
 hand of the young lady, contrary to her father's consent. 
 To escape the indignation of an injured parent, the Euro- 
 pean fled with his prize to New-Yorkj and here, being in 
 want of money, thought to gain a supply by stealing a 
 pocket-book. He was detected, convicted, and plead 
 necessity in extenuation of his crime. On this miserable 
 pick-pocket hangs the happiness of a youthful wife, who 
 married without fully knowing the character of her part- 
 ner. In her behalf the attorney for the criminal prayed 
 for the mercy of the court. Every eye was moved at her 
 appearance, every heart at her situation. His honour 
 warned her of the danger of continuing to live with such 
 a man as her husband, in a state of vagrancy, exhorted 
 her to return to her father, and remain with her friends 
 until her lover should give evidence of an honest, indus- 
 trious disposition, and at the same time proffered all 
 necessary assistance for her journey. Should this man, 
 said the judge, retrieve his character, he might then visit, 
 and claim his wedded companion. In consequence of her 
 youth and unprotected condition, the criminal was sen- 
 tenced to imprisonment in Bridewell for no more than 
 thirty days. The firmness and justice of his honour, for 
 
160 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 which he is deservedly celebrated on the bench, were tem- 
 pered with mercy; with such mercy as it is consistent 
 with civil law to grant. 
 
 August \9th. 
 
 Yesterday, which was the sabbath, I performed my 
 stated services, and to-day have visited eight wards in the 
 hospital. In one I found a Spaniard, who a few hours 
 before had fallen from mast-head upon the hatches, and 
 mangled his crown in a shocking manner. He died while 
 I was there; and such was the vehement circulation in his 
 system, that his pulse continued to beat for nearly half an 
 hour after all apparent respiration had ceased. 
 
 In full view af this dying man, I conversed with James 
 Roe, the old sailor, who has found his way back to this 
 institution already, by another season of drunkenness. He 
 professed great gratitude to God, that in a long seafaring 
 life, he had not been arrested in a similar manner. Never 
 did I hear one insist upon it, \yith so little affectation of 
 humiliation, that he was the chief of sinners. Roe lives 
 under the terrors of the law, reads his Bible in an agony, 
 and gets drunk the first opportunity which presents itself. 
 ''Sir, when I am here," said he, "and you preach, or I 
 read the Bible, I believe every word, and determine well; 
 but when I go out into company, if I will not swear and 
 drink as my messmates do, I am nobody. It*s a hard 
 thing for an old sailor to get to heaven." 
 
 '' You must be contented to be nothing for Christ's 
 sake." 
 
 "Oh ! I pray God that he would break my hard heart; 
 and keep me from my sin; and I have long prayed, but it 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 161 
 
 will not break: 'tis hard as rock. I don't know that I ever 
 prayed aright." This man presents an awful instance of 
 mental agony, and the power of vicious habits. "Can 
 the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? 
 then may ye also do good that are accustomed to do 
 evil."* 
 
 * Not long after the above date, James Roe begged me to give him 
 a Hymn-Book. He committed many of them to memory, and conti- 
 nued in the same frame of mind until he left the New York Hospital. 
 Some time after, a respectable captain of a ship informed me that he 
 had seen Koe, and that the old sailor always kept the Bible and my 
 Hymn-Book with him; would read them when sober; and when 
 drunken, * would not part with them for love nor money.* When any 
 one attempted to purchase them, if he was in his cups, it would en- 
 rage him; and, after imprecating misery, he would read, and cry, and 
 pray again. 
 
 After my removal from New York to Philadelphia, 1 learned that on 
 the 7th day of December, 1811, the same James Roe was admitted 
 into the Pennsylvania Hospital; and continued in that'well regulated 
 and admirable institution until August 3, 1816. " After being out a 
 little more than three months," says a note from my friend, Mr. Ma- 
 son, then superintendent of the institution, " during which time he 
 had various frolics of intemperance and intoxication, he was again 
 admitted the 14th of 11th month, 1816. He appeared to have a great 
 desire to overcome his evil propensities; but it seemed, that when he 
 would wish to do good, evil was present with him. After his return 
 to the hospital, he was, daily, I believe, in the practice of prayer, of 
 reading the Scriptures, or some other good book, and of attending 
 meetings when held in the institution. On account of his orderly con- 
 duct, the managers gave him permission to go every first day of the 
 week to mass, or to his church, so long as he behaved with propriety; 
 but he was not long enjoying this privilege, before he took out two 
 pair of trowsers on him, and returned with one only, and in a state of 
 intoxication. Of course, he was debarred from the liberty of going out 
 jigain. I never found that he attended a meeting in the hospital af- 
 
 G 2 
 
162 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 The young Englishman confesses that he has been a 
 thoughtless rake, and is much amazed that God did not 
 dash him into atoms,- but that he will acknowledge his 
 injustice to his wife, does not appear. 
 
 Among the people of colour, I found Richard Neal, a 
 native of Delaware, aged twenty-eight years, who is blast- 
 ed with the rheumatism. He lived, in childhood, in a 
 family which paid decent attention to religion, and in 
 which he obtained some speculative knowledge of the way 
 of salvation. "At that time," he said, "I knew some- 
 thing, hut felt nothing." He has been sick two years, 
 and with tears in his eyes blesses God that he did not cut 
 him off in healthj that he has severely afflicted him, and 
 made him acquainted with Jesus Christ. Had he died in 
 health, he thinks that he should certainly have been 
 damned. 
 
 "But how do you know now," I demanded, "that you 
 shall be saved?" 
 
 terwards. His sufferings were of the most excruciating nature; and 
 he bore them, I think, with great resignation for a length of time, un- 
 til he was released from his bodily infirmities on the 3d of 4th month, 
 1820." During his residence in the Pennsylvania Hospital I frequent- 
 ly spoke with Roe, on the subject of the great salvation; and generally 
 found him in the same state of mental conviction, self-condemnation, 
 and gloomy, half-despairing hope, which he evinced in New York. 
 Alas! <' strong drink shall be bitter to them that drink it." Isa. xxiv. 9. 
 This is the monster, who, while our various sicknesses incident to 
 temperate man are slaying their thousands, has, by his single hand, 
 cast down into the gulf of endless misery tens of thousands of our 
 fellow-citizens. This Samson in the devil's service should, by our 
 national government, be shorn of his locks; a few of which were 
 clipped during the late war, but grew again at the restoration of 
 peace; and all good men should unite their moral influence to bind 
 him in ch^ns under darkness unto the judgment of the great day. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 163 
 
 " By the glorious approbation of God's love, which he has 
 put into my heart. He makes me feel that he is the for giving 
 God. 1 know that I am a vile sinner, but God would never 
 have done this for me, had not Christ died for me. I can 
 truly, sir, declare, that I have had more happiness since I have 
 bee?! sick, than I ever had in my whole life before.''^ 
 
 *' Were you now to appear before God, what do you 
 think would be your first business?" 
 
 '* / would bless and praise his holy name for his salvationP^ 
 
 ''What would you do next?'* 
 
 " / would pray God to keep me from sin, for ever, and 
 ever.^^ 
 
 Christian reader, such was the conversation of a poor 
 black man. Does not he exhibit the power of grace? 
 Has he not a holy hatred of sin? God has taught him 
 sounder practical divinity than is to be found in many 
 ponderous volumes of Christian doctors. Should not this 
 man*s proficience in the divine life reprove the sluggish 
 believer? 
 
 Would to God that multitudes were like poor Richard, 
 with the exception of his rheumatism! 
 
 August 20th. 
 
 Six wards* in the alms-house been have visited to-day, 
 and it was found that one or two persons had died in each 
 of them, during the past week. With some of the dying I 
 
 * Byexaminin,^ the remaining manuscript of the Journal, it appears 
 that the stated preacher has visited not less than ten wards in the two 
 institutions in every week, besides preaching, on an average, five 
 discourses. In future, the reader will peruse an abridgment, instead 
 of the manuscript in full. 
 
164 VISITS OP MERCY. 
 
 prayed, and with some conversed. One man, who has 
 been confined with a fractured limb six weeks, has in that 
 time read Owen on the CXXX Psalm, and committed 
 to memory twenty-six hymns. 
 
 August 24/A. 
 
 Caroline appears to be more concerned for herself i\v2i\i 
 she did formerly, when she thought more of dishonouring 
 her mother than of displeasing the dreadful God. She says 
 that she prays almost constantly that God would forgive 
 her sins. If this person acts the part of a hypocrite, she 
 must be a consummate mistress of her art. I know that 
 the eyes may be wiped, when they are dry, and that the 
 man whose heart laughs at the imposition, may shed tears 
 like the crocodile, but will the hypocrite always weep ? 
 Will the deceiver wet his nightly couch, and his morsel of 
 bread with tears ? For one, I confess, that although I 
 rarely weep, yet I think favourably of the person, whose 
 eye, like that of Job, " poureth out tears unto God.'* 
 '' She weepeth sore in the night, and her tears are on her 
 cheeks; among all her lovers she hath none to comfort 
 her: all her friends have dealt treacherously with her.'* 
 
 Even some of her companions, who rarely give each 
 other much credit for sincerity, weep with her. One of 
 them listened while I spake to Caroline, who never dis» 
 covered any feeling before, and the opportunity was used 
 of pressing divine truth home upon her mind. 
 
 Almost every day, I exclaim, " Oh ! for a Magdalen hos- 
 pital !'* An institution of this name was opened in Lon- 
 don, August 10th, 1758, and previously to January 3d, 
 1811, admitted /ow/- thousand o?ie hundred and twenty -eight 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 165 
 
 females. Of this number, 80 remained in the institution; 
 103 were removed because they were lunatic, subject to 
 fits, or afflicted with incurable disorders; 75 died; 612 
 were discharged at their own request; 526 were dis- 
 charged for improper behaviour; and 2732 had been re- 
 conciled to friends, placed in service, or provided with 
 reputable occupations. The Report for April 24th, 1811, 
 states, that, *'of the number reconciled to friends, or 
 placed in service, some, undoubtedly, have relapsed into 
 their former errors; but many who left the house at 
 their own request, have since behaved well; and several 
 of those discharged for improper behaviour in the house, 
 have, to the certain knowledge of the committee, never 
 returned to evil courses. In the year 1791, great pains 
 were taken to trace out the situation of all those women 
 who left the house during four years, from May 1786 to 
 May 1790; and the result of that inquiry, which was 
 made with the utmost accuracy, shows, that during that 
 period, ABOUT two-thirds of the whole number of women 
 admitted were permanently reclaimed,'* Of 246 discharged 
 in four years, 157 were then behaving well, 74 behaving 
 ill, 4 insane in confinement; and the situation of 10 was 
 unknown. " The women, when discharged from the 
 house, are, for the most part, under twenty years of 
 AGE ; and it is an invariable rule not to dismiss any wo- 
 man, (unless at her own desire or for misconduct,) with- 
 out some means being provided, by which she may 
 obtain a livelihood in an honest manner." 
 
 A chapel is provided for the persons in this hospital, 
 in which the founders and friends of the charity have 
 pften heard the most grateful music from the choir of 
 
166 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 protected females. One of their hymns is peculiarly ap- 
 propriate and beautiful. 
 
 I shall transcribe it, with the hope that some who 
 read it, may hear it sung in a similar hospital in 
 America. 
 
 " Father of mercies, hear our pray'rs 
 
 For those who do us good; 
 Whose love for us a place prepares^ 
 And kindly gives us food. 
 
 Each hand and heart, that lends us aid. 
 
 Thou didst inspire and guide; 
 Nor is their bounty unrepaid, 
 
 "Who for the poor provide. 
 
 Thou still shalt be our grateful theme. 
 
 Thy praise we'll ever sing; 
 Our friends, the kind refreshing stream. 
 
 But thou th' unfailing spring. 
 
 For those whose goodness founded thiSj^ 
 
 A better house prepare; 
 Receive them to thy heav'nly bliss; 
 
 And may we meet them there I 
 
 May all the pleasing pains they share 
 
 Be crown'd with wish'd success; 
 The present age applaud their care, 
 
 And future ages bless! 
 
 So shall the helpless, who remain 
 
 Expos'd as we before, 
 Increasing still our humble strain, 
 
 With louder songs adore.'* 
 
 Mugust 27th. 
 A SERVANT of an excellent family is now sick in the 
 
VISITS OF MEROT. 167 
 
 hospital. Servants of colour can be more faithfully at- 
 tended in this house, than in almost any private dwellings 
 and when their masters support them, it should not be 
 considered unkind to transmit them to the care of ever- 
 watchful nurses and physicians. 
 
 To this man the preacher said, *'how great was the 
 condescension of Christ in coming down from heaven to 
 save sinners !'* 
 
 The patient rolled over in bed, rubbed the large plaster 
 on his breast in extreme agony, and lifting his hands 
 and eyes to heaven, said, '' O God, forgive! Yes, he is a 
 dear, dear, dear Jesus." He could not speak louder than 
 a whisper, but perhaps Christ was never called precious 
 in a more affecting manner. 
 
 To be a servant in a religious family is an inestimable 
 blessing. This person was taught the way of life through 
 the example and counsel particularly of his mistress. 
 
 Mr. T. S. C— ' has lately begun to read the bible in one 
 of the wards of black people, and it is said that his hear- 
 ers are very attentive to the aged lay-preacher. 
 
 Caroline looks miserably. She has seasons of weeping, 
 which not unfrequetly last all day and all night. Every 
 person in the house seems to feel deep compassion for her. 
 
 August 29th. 
 A DYING man requested that some minister might be 
 invited to pray with him. When the Orderly man, who 
 is very attentive to all the sick in such cases, asked whom 
 he should callj the patient replied, " I have always belong- 
 ed to the Episcopal church, but I do not care who comes, 
 or what is his denoniination, if he is a good man and can 
 pray." He made an attempt to speak to the writer; but 
 
168 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 after many struggles whispered, '*Oh! I lament that I 
 cannot talk with you." 
 
 The confessions of sin contained in the excellent form 
 of prayer to which he had been accustomed,were repeated, 
 explained, and enforced. Then the doctrine of pardon, 
 which is set forth in the same liturgy, was exhibited. 
 After a short pause, he whispered, saying, '*when the 
 wicked man turneth away from his wickedness that he 
 hath committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, 
 he shall save his soul alive. I have been a very great 
 sinner, but I have been several years reformed." There 
 was no evidence to disprove this testimony, and charity 
 hopeth all things. It was intimated, however, that the sin- 
 ner always needs pardon^ and that, when truly reformed, 
 his only foundation of hope is the righteousness of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. After uniting in prayer with the writer, 
 the dying man requested another visit. 
 
 Another man was the object of peculiar attention, be- 
 cause he is nigh unto death, and perhaps equally near to 
 hell; who is so disgusted with this state of suffering, that 
 he wishes to die, and thinks this resignation. He is con- 
 fident of perfect preparation to go to his Father; and will 
 confess that he is a sinner, but discards the Saviour. Such 
 hope is without foundation; such resignation, or rather, 
 dissatisfaction with divine providence, is impiety; and all 
 such religion worse than vain. 
 
 Mrs. Margaret Scott, who is bloated with the dropsy, 
 discovered so much concern for her youngest son, that 
 the writer went in search of him, to procure him a lodging 
 in the alms-house. The lad was found with a family, 
 which resides in a cellar, and is supported by selling ve- 
 getables and making coarse shoes. The shoemaker had 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 169 
 
 protected the child for some weeks, and fed him gratis; 
 but said that he could not keep him long, because he was 
 too small to set upon the bench of his profession. '' Well 
 then, my little fellow," said the person who sought him, 
 taking the boy by the hand, ** I will get you a birth in the 
 alms-house, for I am too poor to keep you." 
 
 The cobbler and his wife came to the door with sad 
 countenances. The frugal pair had potatoes to sell, and 
 could make shift to live by the sweat of the brow. '' I 
 would gladly keep him," said the man, "but I have a 
 large family, and he cannot earn any thing yet." 
 
 He was about to be led away to a sad place. '' 'Tis a 
 pity," said the good woman, "that such a likely child 
 should go to the poor-house: let him stay here." 
 
 It was concluded that the boy should remain where he 
 was, until his mother was dead, or until a more eligible 
 situation could be found. 
 
 The poor are frequently more beneficent than the rich: 
 and the person who of his penury gives all that he has, 
 when duty demands it, shall be more honourable than 
 those who give but a pittance from their luxuries; but two 
 mites from their abundance. 
 
 " It is more blessed to give than to receive." 
 
 August 30th. 
 
 This morning the Episcopalian was not to be found in 
 the land of the living. The man who boasted of perfect 
 resignation, said much more than any good man would 
 desire to hear. He took the preacher by the hand and 
 the button, to make him listen to deistical whisperings. 
 Although he was so far gone in the consumption that he 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
170 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 could not utter a loud word, yet he said, "I thank God 
 that I am willing to die, because I am prepared; and that 
 I have from my cradle despised all this dispute about 
 Methodism, Presbyterianism, and Episcopacy. I care 
 for none of their systems; and thank God that all the 
 preachers in the world cannot drive me out of my senti- 
 ments. If I frequented the grog-shops, I did not myself 
 drink to excess, nor partake with those who blasphemed 
 their Maker. On the sabbath I sat and smoked in a 
 friendly way with my neighbours, while others were run- 
 ning to this and that church, to show their new clothes, 
 to hear a new preacher, and to criticise his discourse. 
 Now, sir, which of us was in the best case?" 
 
 ^* Neither of you conducted in such a manner as to 
 please God; and neither of you, if sensible of his guilt, 
 could die with composure." 
 
 He rejoined, *' O I would not be in the case of these 
 church-going hypocrites for the world, for I have walked 
 behind them when returning from church, and have heard 
 them talk about the pretty fellows, and the girls, and the 
 fine things they saw there! Why! I spent my time in a 
 rational way!" 
 
 •'Will you not allow that you have sometimes sinned.^^ 
 And how can you with the least sin appear before a just 
 God? What would you say in justification of yourself, 
 after you had been obliged to plead guilty.'^" 
 
 His answer was, '* If I am guilty, I would bow and be 
 still; for I would not tell a lie, which would certainly be 
 sinful. I should expect God to treat me as a school- 
 master does a boy. The master flogs him for telling a 
 lie, but assures him, that it is for the falsehood, and not 
 for his previous behaviour; for he would have forgiven 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 171 
 
 that. But God will not make me plead or confess any 
 thing, for he knows all things; and what would be the use 
 of my telling him that I am a sinner?" 
 
 When the name of Jesus was introduced, he knit his 
 brows in a terrible frown; and when asked if he believed 
 in Christ, evaded the subject by coughing. 
 
 Not like this deist is the negro servant of Peter Radcliff. 
 He trembled with emotion when he confessed himself 
 guilty before God; and after prayer said, like one whose 
 soul was going out in faith to meet the Desire of nations, 
 '* O he is a precious Jesus." 
 
 September 2nd. 
 Many circumstances conspire to render Caroline's re- 
 turn to the paths of virtue probable; and particularly the 
 benevolent feelings of the matron and house-physician. 
 A mother could not do more for a daughter, or iEscula- 
 pius for his sister, than is done for this young woman. 
 The attempt is now faithfully making to restore the fallen. 
 The attentions which she receives appear to excite grtiti- 
 tude. In answer to some examination into the state of her 
 soul, she said, " I think I may say with Joseph concerning 
 the enemies of my peace, that they meant it for evil, but God 
 meant it for good. Had not God suffered me to be afflicted, 
 I might never have known him. I was one of the gayest 
 of the gay, and most inconsiderate of the thoughtless. 
 Now I feel an earnest desire to serve my Maker. I 
 thought it the most unfavourable thing which could hap- 
 pen, to be compelled to come to this place; I thought it 
 death; but it was ordered kindly. First, I bless God, and 
 next, I am grateful to man.'* She continues to feel so 
 
172 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 anxious about her mother, that the writer insisted on ad- 
 dressing a letter to her. This he had frequently done, 
 but Caroline was unwilling to have her situation known^ 
 until she could appear in person before her parent. 
 
 September 3d. 
 
 '* My sins against man/* said the weeping Caroline, 
 " I feel to be comparatively nothing,butit is against God 
 that I have sinned, and now that is the thing which trou- 
 bles me most. I hope he will forgive mej but if not, I 
 would wish to live a religious life." 
 
 A letter was exhibited to her, of which the following 
 is a 
 
 COPY. 
 
 ^' New York, September 3d, 1811. 
 
 " Madam,«— One who has the feelings of a mother will be 
 happy to learn, even from a stranger, the situation of an 
 absent daughter. Caroline was brought to this city, by 
 that base young man who obtained leave to take her on 
 a visit to his friends, in the character of his intended 
 bridej and here, as it became a deliberate villain, in a 
 strange land, at the distance of some hundred miles from 
 her friends, attempted to destroy his victim. She was in 
 the power of one, whom she loved before she discovered 
 his treacherous designs, and without the means of escape, 
 when, under the most insidious excuses, and with all fair 
 promises, he attempted to deprive her of honour, peace, 
 and every thing which can endear society, or support one 
 while passing through the valley of the shadow of death. 
 She did not come to this place, and this situation, with her 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 73 
 
 own knowledge or consent; for how should she, equally 
 a stranger to all the crooked paths of the world, know 
 that she was going to New York, instead of P ? 
 
 ** The snare of the fowler, I trust, is now broken, and 
 the bird has escaped from his nets. Your daughter is yet 
 alive. He could not so harden her heart as to make her 
 forget you. Her tears, incessantly flowing, were trouble- 
 some to his adamantine bosom, for a continual dropping 
 will produce some effect on the most obdurate substance. 
 He therefere deserted her. Now she blesses his absence, 
 and thinks she will never willingly see his face again. 
 He left her, impaired in health, without means of sup- 
 port, without money to return to you, and with a broken 
 heart. But the Lord was pleased to provide. In her 
 sickness, her affecting case was made known to the bene- 
 volent, and she is now under the care of one, who faith- 
 fully acts the part of a mother, in counsel and care. Who 
 this person is, that even weeps with Caroline in her sor- 
 rows, she may in due time inform you. A short time 
 since your child wept so incessantly, that we were fearful 
 death would proceed from a wounded spirit. 
 
 *' You must not think of sending for her at present, for 
 her health will not allow her to take a journey. She is 
 not, however, confined to her bed, but is in a state of con- 
 valescence. Tell me, would you gladly and kindly receive 
 your child? Please to return an answer to the writer, 
 and she shall be made acquainted with it. 
 
 " In the course of six or seven weeks, you may, possibly, 
 receive your daughter, through the benevolence of Chris- 
 tian friends, to the embraces of that bosom which sup- 
 ported her in infancy. She wishes now to go to you on 
 foot over all the rugged miles. Be contented then, for 
 
 p 2 
 
174 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 the present, to know, that she is duteous in affection to 
 her absent mother." 
 
 After Caroline had perused the letter, the writer de- 
 manded if he should send it. 
 
 ''If you insist upon it,'* was the reply. All who were 
 disposed to assist her, were persuaded that a kind answer 
 from her mother would promote her recovery. 
 
 Q. " What is your mother's name?" 
 
 A. ''Martha." 
 
 Q. " Where does she reside?" 
 
 A. " She did live in Guildhall, where I was born." Of 
 course the writer forwarded the letter to Mrs. Martha 
 Stillwell, the family name of Caroline, and expects a fa- 
 vourable answer. 
 
 September 6th. 
 
 One ward of the alms-house, in which I preached a few 
 days ago, has lost four of its tenants since that time, and 
 to-day, some of my feeble, but constant hearers, were 
 found dangerously sick. Some of these discovered the 
 benign influence of truth already cherished, while others 
 needed to be taught the first principles of the oracles of 
 God. 
 
 Mrs. E C r sat gloomy, without complaint; 
 
 afflicted, but not cast away; in sorrow, but not in despair. 
 "Do come," she said, " and pray with me again on the 
 next sabbath, for I cannot go to hear you. I have been 
 long travelling through this world, but I think I am almost 
 home. I confess myself a helpless sinner, left to the mer- 
 cy of God. I've nothing to plead, but my own guilt, and 
 Christ's righteousness." 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 175 
 
 No sooner had I darkened the door of that room which 
 is the receptacle of the skeletons of lost females, than I 
 heard a little girl, at the most remote part of the ward, 
 exclaim, in a tone which indicated pleasure commingled 
 with pain, '' Oh! there he is again!'* Passing by many, 
 whose countenances were new to me, I approached her 
 whose voice I had heard, because I thought her face fa- 
 miliar to me; but I could neither remember her name, nor 
 the place in which I had seen her. I looked her full in 
 the face; and she could look upon me no more. 
 
 " Have I not seen you before?" 
 
 *' Yes, sir,^^ 
 
 " I do not remember where. You do not look like any 
 person that I perfectly remember, and I rarely forget a 
 face.'' 
 
 " Fou have seen me in the hospital, sir, and there J have 
 heard you preach. " 
 
 " Can it be possible that you are the once beautiful girl 
 of fifteen? Was it you v/ho made many promises of re- 
 formation? Is your name M D ?" 
 
 She wept an affirmative answer. 
 
 " How different! how fallen, from what you then was! 
 Then you was neat; now you are covered with filth. Then 
 you was in comfortable health, and we had, at one time, 
 much hope of rescuing you from your perilous situation: 
 but now you are merely the shadow of yourself. You are 
 so emaciated that I did not know you. Do you remember 
 my warnings?" *'0 yes, sir," she sobbed out, ''with 
 shame I remember." 
 
 " And in spite of all remonstrances, you have pursued 
 your old course, only to find renewed experience, of what 
 you well knew before, that the way of transgressors is 
 
176 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 hardj for now your flesh and health, which might have 
 been preserved, seem to be entirely gone. Do not think 
 that I delight to reproach you. I pity you, for you are 
 not seventeen years of agej you are motherless, and I 
 would still be the instrument of saving you." 
 
 She could only answer by the faint hue which fluttered 
 over her wan cheek, and sunk again upon her withered 
 heart, that could ill aff*ord to part with any of its vital 
 fluid, even for the blush of shame.* 
 
 In a room contiguous to this, were many persons of the 
 same moral character, who requested prayers. Some 
 faces were white with the bleaching of death-blasts^ some 
 were scarlet, in consequence of a free use of ardent spi- 
 rits; some were covered with sores ; some had lost the 
 use of their eyes, and some had met with that too com- 
 mon calamity, the loss of the nose. Would to God, that 
 the inconsiderate would reflect, for one moment, that libi- 
 dinous indulgence is rottenness to the bones ! I have seen 
 a case, in which I verily believe that my hand could have 
 wrung the limbs asunder ; and in another case, the bones 
 of the head were so aff*ected, that, at the moment of death, 
 the skull of a full grown man burst asunder, and his brains 
 gushed out. In such horrid descriptions I have no delight; 
 but let the youth, who tampers with temptation, beware 
 of taking the leap into that abyss whence few return. 
 
 After I had conversed with M B , who aff'ords 
 
 renewed hope that she is a daughter of Sarah by faith, a 
 young woman of full, broad face, blue eyes, and Scotch 
 dialect, wished to speak to me. Of this person Burns 
 might have sung, in his tenderest strains, to the '* moun* 
 tain daisy ;^'* 
 
 • See pages 61, 63, and 70, 
 
nSlTS OF MERCY. 177 
 
 " Such is the fate of artless maid. 
 Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade' 
 By love's simplicity betray'd. 
 
 In g-uileless trust, 
 Till she, like thee, all spoil'd, is laid 
 
 Low i' the dust." 
 
 When the writer approached, she discovered great 
 agitation, and it was long before she could say, " Oh! sir, 
 I have a hard, hard heart: it will not break: it will not 
 burst." 
 
 *'God can break the hard heart, and make it soft j he 
 can wash the foulest, and make it clean." 
 
 " Oh ! but I fear he will not. 1 know he can, but I haw 
 been so vile, that he will not. He will leave me to perish in 
 my sins. My heart will not submit : J cannot bear to die /" 
 
 "Docs the hope of worldly pleasure make you wish 
 to continue on the earth?" 
 
 " Oh, no! no.' but since I have devoted the morning of my 
 existence to sin, I want to live, that I may lead a different 
 life, and go again to that church which I have dishonoured. " 
 
 " I presume that you are of Scotch-Irish extraction?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, and I have more to answer for than those who 
 surround me, because 1 have been well instructed. 1 was ac- 
 customed to attend Dr. M'Leod^s church; I was taught the 
 way of life, but now my heart will not submit, I cannot tell 
 you how vile I am.'^ 
 
 "That is very true; for who can understand his errors? 
 Who but God can tell how vile any one is?" 
 
 " OhJ I am a thousand times worse than I can think. J 
 cannot tell you how I feel. My heart rejects, and buffets, and 
 hates the Lord Jesus Christ; but 0, 1 wish that he would break 
 
178 VISITS OF MERCT. 
 
 Such anguish of spirit I never witnessed before, nor is 
 it easy to conceive of stronger convictions of the obdu- 
 racy of the human heart than she manifested. '*/am 
 nothing but pollution from the beginning^ from my original,^^ 
 was the burden of her complaint. It was admitted that all 
 which she said of her own iniquity was true, while she 
 was reminded, that those who doubt the divine disposi- 
 tion and ability to save, account God a liar. Mercy was 
 renewedly proffered, but she would not be comforted. 
 The knowledge which this person, A T , pos- 
 sesses, in religious matters, is truly surprising. She 
 seems to have been a systematic theologist from her 
 childhood. The confessions of sin, which arc frequently 
 made, are various. Once a woman, with all the pride of 
 humility reigning in her heart, came to her clergyman, 
 and said, " Sir, I am a vile sinner, I feel that I am one of 
 the greatest hypocrites in the world." With a counte- 
 nance almost as much disfigured as her own, the minister 
 replied, " so you are, good woman;" whereupon she turn- 
 ed away, saying in a tone of exasperation, '*you lie, I 
 
 aVt I" The confessions of A T are not of this 
 
 description. 
 
 The young man who disowns his wife has so far reco- 
 vered as to have been carried from the hospital to a 
 boarding-house. Those who were fellow-patients with 
 him inform me, that his injured wife called to see him 
 before his departure, but he rewarded her kindness with 
 contempt, and said that of all women she was most odious 
 to him. Sinners, who have neither the conscience nor 
 honour to repair an injury, commonly hate those most, 
 whom they have most abused. ** A lying tongue hateth 
 those that are afflicted by it." Prov. xxvi. 28. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 179 
 
 The deist, whose case was stated on the 30th of August 
 last, is probably sealed unto perdition. He told some 
 young friends, who paid him a visit, that when he was 
 dead, he should go to hell, and would stand at the door, 
 to call them in, when they came along that way, that he 
 might have the pleasure of raking open the coals of the 
 bottomless pit, to warm them. This is only a specimen 
 of the impiety of this dying man. 
 
 September 1 2th. 
 
 "I HAD rather be a door-keeper in the house of my 
 God than to dwell in the tents of wickedness." This is, 
 undoubtedly, the sentiment of every pious heart. Never- 
 theless, a door-keeper of a church of God is compelled, 
 by poverty, to take up his residence in the hospital. 
 " You will please to pray with us, before you go," said a 
 tall man of venerable appearance, '* for I am glad to meet 
 you here," His manner was winning, and his longhair, 
 neatly combed, was all white with winter. Well do I re- 
 member with what alacrity he unfolded the doors of a 
 church for me, and made all necessary preparation for 
 public worship. I knew him to be a Christian, and won- 
 dered at finding him in an institution of public charity. 
 The truth was found to be, that having become too feeble, 
 from an accidental injury, to perform the duties of his 
 office, and support his aged wife, he concluded to seek 
 for health, where he could enjoy the means without ex- 
 pense to himself. The church to which he belongs is 
 rather embarrassed in pecuniary matters^ and the Lord 
 be praised that the hospital is open to all of every nation; 
 to those who have money, and to those who have none. 
 
180 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 It rarely contains, however, such a combination of dig- 
 nity, poverty, and piety as are found in this Irishman. 
 
 A T remains in the same state of body and 
 
 mind. Her mental anguish is unutterable. M B 
 
 and M D were seated on a bed together, beside 
 
 their agonizing companion. The first I exhorted to in- 
 struct the secondj for both have tasted the bitter cup of 
 transgression, but one has much more knowledge than 
 the other. The reader may wish to learn something of 
 
 M D *s history. When health returned to her in 
 
 the hospital, she became insensible to past wickedness 
 and misery. While remaining there, that some place of 
 residence might be found for her, or some occupation 
 procured, she became acquainted with a young man, 
 whose conduct and situation had been similar to her own. 
 He promised, on leaving the institution, to become her 
 protector. Accordingly, when he was ready to depart, 
 she eloped, and they met, to reside in the suburbs. His 
 protection was of short duration^ his money was soon 
 gonej she returned to the practice of Corinth, and multi- 
 plied abominations, more than her sisters Samaria and 
 Sodom. Extreme sickness was the resultj and having 
 lodged for a few nights in a cellar with blacks, she was 
 brought to the alms-house. The way of lewdness is the 
 shortest way to hell. 
 
 September loth. 
 
 Mrs. Margaret Scott, who was introduced to the read- 
 er's acquaintance on the 15th of August last, has rapidly 
 declined for several days past; and at length has fallen 
 asleep. Her eldest child, a daughter, is at service, and 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 181 
 
 maintains her youngest sister, who cannot be more than 
 three years of age. The second daughter Avas taken un- 
 der the care of the matron of the hospital, who has pro- 
 cured an excellent situation in the .country, where the 
 child will be kept from much of the evil that is in the 
 world. The eldest son is a young man, who has gone to 
 sea, and her other child is a lad of nine years, who lives 
 with the cobbler. The good mother had a few anxieties 
 before death, which were not unamiable. She could not 
 close her eyes until some one had promised to be a guar- 
 dian to each of her helpless orphans. In addition to this, 
 she obtained a promise from her eldest daughter, that her 
 body should be deposited in one of the grave-yards of her 
 church. It seems no more than reasonable, that the 
 richest church in America should give her poor saints 
 their last bedj for there is something pleasing to most 
 persons, in the thought of having their dust gathered to 
 the ashes of their fathers. At any rate, if this be a weak- 
 ness, it i.s not censurable, and Rebecca gave her mother 
 the promise, which she punctually fulfilled. With com- 
 posure, with hope, the fond mother went to rest, where 
 the wicked cease from troubling. 
 
 September 1 4th. 
 
 For three or four days and nights Caroline has wept 
 almost incessantly. Something gives her great uneasi- 
 ness, when any one speaks of her mother. If her grief 
 should continue, she will never meet her forsaken parent. 
 
 The writer, who promised to protect an unguarded 
 boy, to-day sought his charge, at the poor cobbler's cel- 
 lar, but could not find him. Last night he was there, but 
 
 VOL. I. q 
 
182 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 where he was when his guardian sought him, none could 
 say^ for how could a labouring man watch a playful child? 
 He was sought in the streets, but could not be found. 
 Night and hunger will probably bring him homej for 
 these regulate hundreds, who experience no other govern* 
 ment. 
 
 At the request of Mrs. Peter Radcliff, the writer visit- 
 ed a poor widow of the city. Her husband has been dead 
 two years. She has six children; the eldest of whom is 
 fifteen years of age, and can afford considerable assistance. 
 About three months ago, a son of seven years was taken 
 sick with the small-pox. For seven weeks the widow paid 
 such attention to this lad, that she did not once, during 
 that time, sleep with her clothes off. The child died; and 
 the mother, through debility and a severe cold, was im- 
 mediately confined to her bed, from which she may never 
 arise. When I entered, the breakfast-table with its scanty 
 furniture was standing beside her bed, and the daughter 
 was preparing some tea. She insisted on having the table 
 removed, for the present, saying, that '* to hear religious 
 conversation and unite in prayer is better than daily 
 food." The only chair in the room afforded me a seat 
 beside her, while her daughter stood by the fire, and at 
 my back was posted a young man in mean attire. 
 
 *' I never thought of religion, sir,'* she said, " until my 
 child died. Since that, many ladies come here to see me, 
 and talk about Christ; and O, it comforts my heart. I 
 bless God that he is so good to me, in sending friends." 
 
 She confessed her exceeding sinfulness in every thing, 
 but particularly mourned her past neglect of the sabbath 
 and public worship. Now, might God permit, she ** would 
 gladly crawl on her hands and knees along the streets to any 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 183 
 
 church, and should think herself happy if she could get even 
 to the Clearest methodist praying meeting.''' 
 
 David desired in sickness restoration, that he might 
 visit the sanctuary ; " but, good woman, the gospel is 
 brought nigh to you. It is proclaimed in your chamber. 
 Here the Lord Jesus assures you that he is able and will- 
 ing to save, and that none who come to him shall be re- 
 jected." 
 
 ** That 1 know, sir, and in that I rejoice, for the word of 
 God teaches me, Christ is all the hope of 7ny poor heart. 
 Tliat young man (she pointed to the one behind me,) lives 
 near this, and when he comes in every day, I get him to read 
 two or three chapters to me, O, Pve got a Bible, sir; Mr. 
 Smith brought it to me. It is a fine bookT^ 
 
 ** May the reading do the young man good." ** O, sir," 
 she rejoined, " I hope it will break his heart, and then he 
 will turn from sin, There^s nothing like it. It will break 
 the heart,^^ 
 
 Her anxiety for him seemed to pierce him; for the poor 
 young labourer was solemn and silent. 
 
 September 1 5th. 
 
 Mr. Roome, the present superintendent of the State's 
 Prison, in which I preached to-day, related the following 
 anecdote. 
 
 Not long since two persons were in this place of con- 
 finement, who gave satisfactory evidence that they were 
 truly converted to God. M'Donald, who was commit- 
 ted for horse-stealing, first became an exemplary man, 
 and lodged in the rpom with one Johnson. This man 
 was committed for forgery, and after a long confinement, 
 
184 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 attempted to make his escape by leaping from the wall. 
 Previously to this attempt, he had conducted like an alter- 
 ed man; and even a Christian might be induced to be- 
 lieve, that escape from penalty, where it is possible, after 
 long infliction of it, is no crime. In the act of leaping, 
 he burst an artery of his leg, and mortification followed. 
 Sensible of the near approach of death, he desired to 
 speak with his old room-mate. The keeper brought 
 M'Donaldinto his presence, when the dying man said, with 
 tender familiarity, '* Well, Mac, I am going to die, and 
 I wanted to discharge a debt of gratitude. I owe you 
 everlasting thanks, for had it not been for your exertions 
 and example, I should not have known any thing of Christ. 
 I could not die in peace without confessing to you, that 
 when you and I came to live in the same room, I hated 
 you, because you was religious. When you talked to me, 
 I wished that you would hold your tongue, and often, 
 when you read the Bible or prayed at night, I used to put 
 my handkerchief over my head and stop my ears; but 
 finally, the more I strove against your religion, the more 
 it worked on me. In short, I had no peace until I took 
 to praying too. Now I thank God that I can die in com- 
 fort. I bless God for your instructions, with my dying 
 breath." After this he spoke in sublime strains of the 
 pleasures af pardoned sin, prayed in a loud voice with 
 the keeper and M 'Donald, and immediately died. He 
 was thirty-seven years of age; and not long after, in his 
 forty-first year, followed McDonald, whose death was tran- 
 quil, and even triumphant. 
 
 The reader will be gratified with some of this last per- 
 son's writing. With a few slight alterations in a few 
 words, but none in the sense, I shall present 
 
VISITS OF MEKC\. 185 
 
 A COPY 
 
 Of some poetry, written by McDonald* while in Prison. 
 I. 
 
 John 1. 17. & 8. 32. & 14. 6. Prov. 23. 23. Ye busy minds that seek for trutli, 
 
 James 3. 1—6. Must own that pleasure, pelf, or pain, 
 Luke 12. 20 & 21. Are sure rewards in early youth, 
 Ecclesiastes 2. 1—12. And all that man in life can gain; 
 1 Cor. 1. 21—30. Colossians 2. 3. Unless to wisdom he should cry, 
 
 James 4. 8. Should by the Spirit strive to move, 
 Matt. 7. 7. And call the blest Eedeemer nigh, 
 Gal. 5. 6. John 14. 13 & 14. To grant that faith which wMks by love. 
 II. 
 Prov. 8. 9. The Bible's precepts all are plain, 
 2 Cor. 4. 3. And right, to them that knowledge find ; 
 1 Cor. 2. 14. But nat'ral tongues can ne'er explain,i 
 Rom. 12. 2. Eph. 4. 23. Col. 3. 10. Unless the Lord renew the mind. 
 1 Cor. 3. 18. Become a fool, if you'll be wise, 
 James 1. .5 & 6. And wisdom seek from God above : 
 John 16. 24. Jer. 50. 4 & 5. Then ask of him, he'll not despise, 
 1 John 3. 22 & 23. But freely grant his pardoning love. 
 III. 
 Rom. 5. 1. Ps. 119. 165. Phil. 4. 6 & 7. O then, sweet peace, to conscience dear, 
 Isaiah 26. 3, 4. Will make her kind abode with thee, 
 1 Cor. 10. 13. Prov. 3. 21—26. And through this rugged path will steer 
 Isaiah 58. 11. Luke 1. 79. Thy bark from ev'ry danger free. 
 Col. 1. 2. 7. No doubts shall in thy bosom rise, 
 John 8. 32 & 36. Gal. 5. 1. For God in Christ has made thee free, 
 Isa. 25. 7. 2 Cor. 3. 13—18. The veil has taken from thine ej'es, 
 Rom. 8. 1 & 21. To walk in gospel liberty. 
 IV. 
 Matt. 5. 6. If any thirst for righteousness, 
 Luke 6. 21. Or hunger for the bread of lifer 
 John 4. 10. 14. & 6. 35, & 7. 37, 38. Christ fills their souls with happiness : 
 Isa. 58. 4. Nor shall they drink ungodly strife. 
 John 1. 12. All, who believe upon his name, 
 1 John 3. 1 & 2. Are justly styl'd the sons of God : 
 Titus 2. 13 &. 14. Heb. 12. 2. By faith and hope they trust in him, 
 1 Pet. 1. 19. Who made atonement with his blood. 
 * M 'Donald states, that he was induced to write these lines, by- 
 listening to different teachers, examining many denominations of 
 Christians, and finding, to his surprise and alarm, that many swerve 
 from the scriptures of truth, " which contain the divine mysteries of 
 God." 
 
 Q2 
 
186 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 John 6. 29. Christ says this is the work of God, 
 
 John 3. 14 — ^18. T' believe on him whom God hath sent . 
 
 John 6. 35—53. To eat his flesh, and drink his blood. 
 
 Isa. 33. 15 & 16. Rev. 2. 17. By faith you'll see what bread he meant : 
 The waters are the word of God, 
 
 Eph. 5. 26, To sanctify and cleanse the soul ; 
 
 John 1. 1. Col. 2. 9. And scripture proves that Christ's the word, 
 
 Rev. 19. 13. Eph. 3. 14—20. Which truly comprehends the whole. 
 VI. 
 
 Luke 13. 24. James 4. 3. Heb. 11. 6. Then let us strive, and long endure, 
 
 Rom. 5. 1. Eph. 2. 13 Sc 18. By faith to make our peace with God, 
 
 2 Pet. 1. 10. Our calling and election sure. 
 
 Rev. 6, 16 & 17. Heb. 2. 3. 12. 25. And thus escape his wrathful rod. 
 
 Isa. 45. 21. John 14. 27. The Lord is just. In Christ there's peaor 
 
 Luke 2. 3—33. Acts 4. 12. And that salvation which we praise : 
 
 Rom. 10. 17. Eph. 3. 17. O may our faith and love increase, 
 
 2 Cor. 9. 15. Heb. 13. 12. And God receive the songs we raise. 
 
 On the back of the paper, which contains the foregoing^ 
 performance, the author has said, '' whosoever will pe- 
 ruse the within seventy-five passages of scripture, with 
 the same attention with which I have selected them, will 
 not fail of reaping a due reward from that gracious Bene- 
 factor, whose mercy endureth to all generations." 
 
 AN ELEGY, 
 
 By the same Prisoner, who conceived himself to have been con 
 victed by false-witnesses. 
 You who can spare one moment's time. 
 And listen to a true complaint, 
 Will not accuse me of a crime, 
 Nor think me void of just restraint, 
 When you consider well the cause 
 Of cruelty which I denounce: 
 For not against the wholesome laws 
 Would I an evil word pronounce. 
 
 But fate, at whose decrees we guess. 
 By evil and designing men, 
 Has cast me into sore distress, 
 Like some wild monster in a den?; 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 187 
 
 Opprest with solitude and thought, 
 Which cause my mind full oft to roam. 
 And ruminate their wiles that brought 
 Me to this sad, uncourtly home. 
 
 Here months, to me like days untold. 
 Pass o'er my head with strong regress: 
 Samaritans cannot behold. 
 But Priests and Levites daily pass. 
 Like Pharaoh's butler, one did say, 
 ** Alas! I have you long forgot. 
 And do recall my fault this day;" 
 But to relieve me hasten 'd not. 
 Divided from all friendship dear, 
 For wife and children here I grieve. 
 In solemn, secret, fervent pray'r, 
 I seek to him who can reUeve; 
 Well knowing that the arm of man, 
 Though bound by oaths in solemn trusty 
 Will deviate from virtue's plan. 
 And leave me hopeless in the dust. 
 
 When I am far remov'd from hence. 
 And once that common debt is paid. 
 My false accusers must come thence. 
 Before the Judge of quick, and dead. 
 There no false pleadings can be heard. 
 Nor silver tears commend a man: 
 That God who only must be fear'd. 
 Will work his just and upright plan. 
 
 Then shall the wicked turn to hell. 
 With all the blind that know not God: 
 No parasite shall then excel. 
 Nor splendid pomp relief afford; 
 Pure faith and love shall ornament 
 The bearer's head as with a crown, 
 And I no longer shall lament, 
 Nor earthly monarchs on me frown, 
 
188 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 September 16M. 
 Man, who cannot search the heart, must often be influ- 
 enced in his conduct by the outward appearance. Judg- 
 ing from what the human eye can discover, there has 
 been more reason to indulge the hope of reclaiming Ca- 
 roline, than any one of her companions. She has, there- 
 fore, received more attention in the hospital than any one 
 of her class ever enjoyed there before. All persons con- 
 cerned in the immediate care of the patients, seemed to 
 have conspired for her restoration. This has given 
 some of the inhabitants of her ward great offence; and 
 they seek to find satisfaction by tormenting her. The 
 motives which dictated the following letter, which was 
 given to Caroline by the matron, will appear from the 
 perusal. 
 
 COPY. 
 
 ^' New York, September \6ih, A. D. 1811. 
 *' Caroline, 
 
 '•^ Your situation is indeed a trying one. You need con- 
 solation, and I regret that the malevolence of those unhap- 
 py women, with whom you ara confined, should render 
 it necessary for me to speak to you in particular, less 
 frequently than I could wish. Their opinion of my at- 
 tention is nothing to me; but I am unwilling that you 
 should experience from them needless persecution. 
 Would to God that they were as desirous of instruction 
 and as grateful for kindness as you appear to be. You must 
 ^patiently bear their scoffs, for you have fallen into their so- 
 ciety; but if they call you a hypocrite, that will not make 
 you one. See that you finally prove your sincerity. You 
 must expect reproach for your past sins, from those who 
 know nothing of penitence; and you perceive in their 
 
VISITS OF MERCY, 189 
 
 unkindness, that the unrenewed heart is even opposed to 
 the merciful Redeemer. An abandoned woman is neither 
 willing to enter the kingdom of heaven herself, nor pleas- 
 ed that others should be saved. Let your wicked room- 
 mates continue to say that '' you will soon elope with the 
 parson or doctor," because we seek your salvation. Re- 
 gard them not, except it be to pray for their conviction 
 and conversion. Were they disposed to receive assistance, 
 we should as gladly proffer it to them as to you. Receive 
 from us this assurance, that so long as you continue to 
 maintain the humility, penitence, and spirit of new obe- 
 dience, which we think are manifest in you, we will act 
 the part of friends. If God preserves our lives, you 
 shall not from necessity be cast out to the contempt and 
 misery of the world. Should you die in the hospital, 
 your body shall be interred with respect; but should you 
 recover, and be rejected by your relatives, some occupa- 
 tion shall be provided, which will yield you the means of 
 comfortable and reputable subsistence. Be of good 
 courage; the Lord will provide. To him you are indebt- 
 ed for all those circumstances which elevate you above 
 many of your fallen fellow-sinners. If you are truly peni- 
 tent, it is God who has pierced your soul with arrows 
 of conviction; who has slain you by the law, that you 
 may live by the gospel, to the praise of Christ's righteous- 
 ness; and who has made the blood of his gracious cove- 
 nant precious to your soul. Remember, then, that with 
 God there is mercy, that he may be feared, and trusted 
 too. 
 
 *'It is not time, calculating on the usual delay of coun- 
 try post-offices, to expect a letter from your mother ; 
 but so soon as I receive one, you shall know its contents. 
 
190 VISITS OF MEIICY. 
 
 In the meantime, seek to compose your mind by the con- 
 sideration, that Jesus died to save sinners. Do not read 
 too much, for your mind becomes confused, and you de- 
 rive no advantage. Young persons, when anxious to 
 know the way of life, commonly fall into this error. 
 They read much, and think little. It is as much your 
 duty, at proper seasons, to compose yourself for sleep, 
 as at other times to pray. Above all things, receive the 
 testimony of God, concerning his Son, that he sent him 
 into the world to save the chief of sinners. Not to believe 
 this, so as to trust in God for pardon and acceptance 
 through the righteousness of Jesus Christ, is nothing 
 less than to make God a liar. If you wish instruction 
 on any subject, which I do not explain in my general 
 discourse in your ward, you need not fear to express 
 your wish to one, who feels his own need of pardon. 
 May God bless youj for I hope that with him is mercy 
 for you." 
 
 Before the above letter was presented, it was read, and 
 assented to, by the house-physician, whose skill and be- 
 nevolence do honour to his understanding and heart.* 
 
 September 18M. 
 Through the compassion and instrumentality of Mrs. 
 
 * In this place, the writer begs leave to tender his gratitude to 
 Messrs. Tappen and Inderwick of the hospital, and Mr. Anderson 
 of the alms-house, not only for their polite attentions to him; but for 
 their fidelity to the sick under their care. These young practitioners 
 in the healing art, are gentlemen of excellent understanding, amia- 
 ble manners, and moral principle, who promise to be the future orna- 
 ments of their profession, and some of the most useful members of 
 society. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 191 
 
 Broadhead, some necessary articles of dress for Caroline, 
 were procured from the wardrobe of the Dorcas Society. 
 
 On the 16th instant, the son of Mrs. Margaret Scott 
 was found by the writer, who was engaged to do the best 
 he could for the child, and led to the alms-house. It was 
 contemplated that he should board there, and attend the 
 free-school of Trinity church, until something better 
 could be provided for him. When the lad's case was 
 stated to the superintendent, and especially when the in- 
 formation was given, that the father of the child was 
 a drunkard, who had paid his children no attention for 
 two years, the tears fell rapidly from the eyes of the boy, 
 who was more affected at his father's wickedness, than his 
 mother's death. 
 
 To-day the boy called on his guardian, and requested 
 him to visit Rebecca. The dutiful daughter, who had 
 performed the task of a hired servant by day, and watch- 
 ed with her dying mother by night, was found in the 
 kitchen of a porter-house, making, or rather altering 
 garments for her sister. Since the death of the mother, 
 Rebecca had been sick from unusual fatigue. She was 
 now better, but pale, and the little girl of three years 
 made her appearance, with a clean face, and hung on 
 her sister's skirt. 
 
 " Well, Rebecca, I suppose you have some request to 
 make. Speak freely, for I promised your good mother 
 to assist you, so far as I am able." 
 
 She hesitated, and blushed: the boy sat him down in 
 the corner and sobbed^ but she finally stated that her lit- 
 tle brother came home dissatisfied with his situation. 
 For two nights past he had been put into a bed which 
 contained five boys besides himself. They considered 
 
192 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 him a stranger, and kicked him out. The boys used pro- 
 fane language, were lousy, and he could not endure the 
 thought of living there. " You have done so much, sir, 
 that I dare not make any request," said Rebecca, 
 « but " 
 
 " But what? He shall go home with me, for the pre- 
 sent. What did the funeral of your mother cost you?" 
 The fees for the ground, the sexton's services, &c. amount- 
 ed to ten dollars^ of which she had paid five, and was 
 now working to discharge the remainder of the debt. 
 
 *' It is enough for you to provide for yourself and little 
 sister." The five dollars which were due were paid; and 
 the body of Margaret Scott sleeps in peace, whilfe her 
 spirit rests in hope of a glorious resurrection. 
 
 The reader will undoubtedly agree ,with the writer in 
 opinion, that each Christian church ought to bury the 
 bodies of her poor members, besides affording support 
 to the orphan children which have been baptized within 
 her temples.* 
 
 Had the present Assistant Bishop known their circum- 
 stances, it is certain, from the benevolence of his charac- 
 ter, that he would have given assistance to the fatherless. 
 May it not be presumed, that in future the large funds of 
 the Trinity church will afford a grave for those, at least, 
 who are in full communion with her, and die in poverty? 
 Before she builds any more churches abroad, will she not 
 
 * It is understood, that this lad received assistance, when almost 
 naked, and without shoes, in the frosty weather of October following, 
 from the president of the Dorcas Society, Mrs. J.B. Romeyn and Mrs. 
 P. Wilson, who dehght in doing good to the poor of every denomina- 
 tion. She who gives a cup of cold water to the thirsty, from love to 
 Jesus, shall in nowise lose her reward. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 193 
 
 make provision for the guardianship of all her helpless 
 children? I am persuaded that Bishop Hobaht and the 
 Vestry will enlarge their establishment of a Charity 
 School, until it shall bear some proportion to their funds, 
 and to the number of their baptized children. Hitherto 
 the provision made by the Reformed Dutch, Presbyterian, 
 and Methodist churches in this city, has been much more 
 ample, in proportion to their destitute children. The 
 good among the Episcopalians will not blush to take an 
 example from their Presbyterian neighbours. 
 
 September 2'2nd. 
 
 In descending the stairs of the alms-house, the Irish 
 woman met me, of whom I have given some account un- 
 der date of April 21st. She had in her hands two pails 
 of water, which her feeble frame could scarcely support; 
 for she is still pale, thin, neat, and humble. Setting them 
 down, she said, in a manner which invited condolence, 
 ** Ah, siri and I have lost my little child; the youngest 
 one." 
 
 '* Possibly," said the writer, *'God may have taken 
 away your infant from the evil to come. Possibly God 
 has taken him to a better world, and made him glorious 
 in Christ. Had the child lived, it might have become 
 miserably wicked. That infants are saved, we have pre- 
 sumptive evidence, for Jesus said, * of such is the king- 
 dom of heaven;' and again, 'it is not the will of your 
 Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones 
 should perish.' These sentences were uttered when little 
 children were in Christ's presence, and although the last 
 comprehends all persons who become, from conversion, 
 
 VOL. r. R 
 
194 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 like little children, yet there is reason to suppose that he 
 intended to be literally understood. ' The kingdom of 
 God,' of which infants are said to be members, must im- 
 ply, either the church on earth, or the church in heaven, 
 or both. If they belong to both, or to the church above, 
 their salvation is positively asserted: but if they belong 
 to the church on earth, it is probable that they will not, 
 when taken away in infancy, fail of eternal life. 
 
 : "David comforted himself, when he said concerning 
 the child of Bathsheba, 'I shall go to it;* and assuredly 
 he did not expect to meet the child in hell. Of one thing, 
 at least, you may be certain, that God doth not willingly 
 afflict nor grieve the children of men. Remember, that 
 if God has taken away one child, he has preserved three." 
 Sfe>answered, ** indeed he has, sir, but they are 
 sickly." 
 
 Soon after this woman's recovery, I saw her near the 
 battery. The child which is now dead was then in her 
 arms, and the other three were standing beside her. All 
 of them were sickly, in appearance, like the plants which 
 suffer for the v/ant of air and light. In this situation, she 
 remained nearly half the day, in expectation of seeing 
 her husband. He was on board " the President," a ship 
 at anchor in the river, and she had sent a request to see 
 him, by one of the naval officers. It was her design to 
 obtain of him half his pay, that she might leave the alms- 
 house, and support her children. -'Could we live," said 
 the woman, "in the fresh air, we should be well again." 
 The husband came not; and weakness with hunger drove 
 her back to languish with the multitude. 
 
 Before I commenced the public worship of the evening, 
 ail aged woman said, with weeping, which continued 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 195 
 
 during the whole service, " the conflicts of a poor sinner 
 are very many and great in this life; and especially those 
 which arise from our own wickedness." 
 
 Blind Sofa, who has lately been severely troubled about 
 the concerns of her soul, was led to the preacher, by her 
 request, after sermon, and with out-stretched hands, said, 
 *' O! you pe de mem: God sen you to me; Godpless you, 
 dear man. He do <pless you: he pless yon lo de soul of poor 
 sinner,'''^ If this is the truth, (and when I think of the 
 divine power and grace I cannot doubt it,) it is the 
 preacher who has most occasion to bless the Lord, saying, 
 *' not unto me; not unto me, O Lord; but to thy name and 
 the atonement of Christ be all the glory." 
 
 September ^Ath. 
 
 A DUPLICATE of the letter to Mrs. Martha Stillwell, was 
 to-day forwarded, with a note to the post-master in Guild- 
 hall, which entreated him to ascertain if any such person 
 as was addressed could be found in the vicinity of his of- 
 fice. She must be dead, or has removed, or there is 
 some deception in the affair. 
 
 Yesterday died in the alms-house, A T , the 
 
 well informed Scotch-Irish girl, who said to her misera- 
 ble companions, a few moments before she expired, ** if 
 Jesus is ready to receive me, I am ready to die.^^ 
 
 A few days since, departed also the maiden lady who 
 protected the soldier. Better was the day of her death 
 than of her birth. 
 
 September 27th, 
 In the alms-house, a female of only fifteen years of age, 
 
196 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 a native of Ireland, who has lately heard tlie writer 
 preach, desired to converse with him. She had been 
 observed to weep, and to-day her tears fell on the face of 
 a sweet infant which slumbered on her lap. It was fair 
 and round, like its little mother^ who, unfortunate thing! 
 was sold and deceived. Not twelve months ago, she and 
 her parents arrived in this country, and were sold far 
 their passage. This child, then thoughtless, was pur- 
 chased by a young countryman, who pretended to love 
 her, and finally deserted her, 
 
 " push'd her from shore, 
 
 And launch'd her into life without an oar. " 
 
 She was so deeply afflicted in soul, that she could say 
 but little; and I left her without knowing to what ques- 
 tion in particular she desired an answer. 
 
 The greater part of persons, when seduced from the 
 path of virtue, are very young. I have just prayed in the 
 
 ward in which A T died, and saw in one narrow 
 
 bed two blooming females, one of whom had lived fifteen, 
 and the other only thirteen suns. 
 
 September 29th. 
 
 This morning Richard Neal, of whom some account is 
 givenunder date of August 1 9th, departed this life for a bet- 
 ter. He possessed but little knowledge, yet it was of the 
 right kind, it was evangelical, it was practical. Extreme 
 pain of body, long continued, he bore without repining, 
 with truly Christian fortitude. Concerning this black 
 man, the mighty might say, the honourable and the'afflu- 
 ent might say, *'let us die the death of the justified person, 
 and let our last end be like his," 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 197 
 
 The young mother listened to the word of God, with 
 much apparent contrition, and profound attention. 
 
 An aged man who cannot live but a few days, and who 
 will perhaps die in a few hours, said, on my approach to 
 his bed, " /am all but in the eternal world: lam on the verge 
 of time and eternity: but my conscience is at peace with God, 
 and I am perfectly quiet about myself " 
 
 ** Do you think then," it was demanded, "that you 
 have no sin?" 
 
 ** No, no! thafs not my meaning; but God has pardoned me, 
 and given me peace through the Lord Jesus Christ, and that's 
 the reason I say my conscience is quiet* Pm going to the eternal 
 world, and I wish your prayers, I wish the prayers of all 
 God's people. '^ 
 
 We addressed the throne of grace together; and then 
 he resumed the conversation, which continued in a solemn 
 and rational strain for some time. Not a thought of his 
 being a lunatic entered my mind, until I was leaving him; 
 Avhen, putting a paper into my hands, he said, '* I die in 
 peace with men: I wish them all well, and hope God will 
 forgive them; but I wish the world to know how I came 
 to the alms-house." The writing, which has this caption, 
 *' villany unpunished," and which states, that in 1797 he 
 was robbed of his personal property and real estate, by 
 some of the most respectable citizens, he desired me to 
 present to the governor of the state. The writing con- 
 cludes with these words: "now, fellow-citizens, I am 
 thankful to you for all the hospitable institutions that you 
 have provided for all them that labour under distressing 
 circumstances; but I have to regret that I have been swin- 
 dled out of my property, and kept out of it until this time, 
 
 R 2 
 
198 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 beings September 17th, 1811, which renders me an object 
 for the alms-house." 
 
 Gratitude may occupy a mind, partially deranged; and 
 if piety exists previously to insanity, we ought not to sup- 
 pose that the severe judgment warrants any unfavourable 
 conclusion concerning the soul's condition in the future life. 
 
 October 5 th. 
 
 Caroline is afflicted with a new, but not disgraceful 
 complaint, which requires surgical assistance. She can- 
 not bear any conversation about her mother. To augment 
 her troubles, the women attempt to make her believe that 
 she will be sent to the alms-house, among the incurable 
 persons. 
 
 I told an aged sailor, whose flesh has vanished, and of 
 whom little remains but skin and bones, what I thought 
 of his situation; for I feel bound to Warn the dying of their 
 danger, even at the expense of my own feelings and their 
 approbation. Religious instruction had no more visible 
 effect than is produced by the wind upon polished marble. 
 There was nothing which evinced life; no, not a shrub, 
 nor even moss upon the rock, which could be moved. He 
 asserted that he prayed in his thoughts; but when the 
 nurse asked him, *' if the minister should pray with him," 
 he answered, ''no." 
 
 Since the 19th of June, I have had frequent intercourse 
 with the young sailor who was excited to religious inquiry 
 by my conversation with H — on.* Now he is almost 
 white as a sheet, and the writer said, " friend, you cannot 
 regain your wonted colour." 
 
 • See date of June 19th. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 199 
 
 *' No, sir: and I fear [never shall, for I grow weaker. But 
 still I hope to recover." 
 
 '* You must be prepared for death at all times, for it 
 will come when God sends it.'* 
 
 " // is my daily prayer^ that I may he ready; and I want 
 to hear you preach again, hut my cough prevents me from 
 hearing, and would disturb others.''^ 
 
 "Then you must read the Bible, for that contains the 
 gospel." 
 
 ^^1 did till lately: hut now my eyes are so dim, that after I 
 have read two or three lines, it is all like one word.^^ 
 
 " Then others must read to you, and you must pray. 
 It gives me pleasure to find any sinner willing to pray: 
 but I asked one of the patients below, if he prayed, and 
 he ." 
 
 "^?/e, sir! all the sick will tell you that they pray, and I 
 hope they do; but if they don't pray in heart, it an't good for 
 nothing, I take it." 
 
 *' Are you not ashamed to talk so much about religion, 
 before your acquaintance? Do not some of them laugh 
 at you?" 
 
 " Why, they tell me I am growing mighty good, 4'c.y but 
 I wish I was. If I could be really a Christian, 't'an't I that 
 would keer what they say. " 
 
 October 20th. 
 
 **EviL men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, 
 deceiving and being deceived." 2 Tim. iii. 13. There 
 is a regular progression of sinful men from bad to worse. 
 An obdurate offender once said, that he should melt no 
 
200 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 sooner than his companions in the focus of divine wrath; 
 and a man whom I have often reproved, has told me re- 
 peatedly, and with solemnity, too, '^ that he expected to 
 go to hell; but this was his consolation, that he could en- 
 dure the fierceness of God's wrath as well as any man, for 
 he was tough as any damned being." A woman, (yes, a 
 woman!) of this description, I have seen to-day, who is 
 infected, but says that " she has been seven years in the pro- 
 fessional business, has never been caught before, and, since 
 she took up her trade to get a living, she is determined to 
 die in it." 
 
 October 27th. 
 
 Ever since the 13th instant, George has been sick, and 
 our psalmody indifferent; but to-day he resumed his office. 
 During his fever I frequently visited and assisted him; 
 and now he has arisen to reward me, by affording plea- 
 sure to the congregation of the poor. 
 
 October 28 fh. 
 
 While I was speaking to one of the lost females of the 
 hospital, another said, "Mr. Ely, Mr. Ely, I want to 
 speak with you." 
 
 Her dying body was so offensive as to give great disquiet 
 to the organs of sense; but I drew near and asked, '* what 
 do you wish?" 
 
 ^'I've been long wishing to speak with you," she said, 
 but could not proceed. Her face was so thin, that when 
 the nerves and muscles were affected by that emotion 
 which commonly produces weeping, it was covered with 
 
TISITS OF MERCY. 201 
 
 wrinkles, and looked horribly grim. She could not weep, 
 for the fountains were all dry. Before I left her, she said, 
 * * pray, pray for '* 
 
 " For what shall I pray?" 
 
 ** That God would bring me into his everlasting salvation.** 
 
 October 3Qth. 
 
 Yesterday I visited again the dying prostitute, and 
 every individual of her room seemed afflicted by her dis- 
 tress. Her body is literally consumed, while her life re- 
 mains. To-day Dr. Proudfit went with me to the hospital, 
 and offered prayers in four rooms. We saw the same 
 young woman again, and this dialogue followed. 
 
 JDr. P. *' Have you any hope?'* 
 
 Pros. "Some feeble hope, sir." 
 
 Dr. P. *' Well, and what is the ground of your hope?" 
 
 Proa. **The Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 Dr. P. " Where is he now ?" 
 
 Pros. **In heaven." 
 
 Dr. P. " What is he doing there?" 
 
 Pros. " Glorifying God, his Father." 
 
 Dr. P. "Yes, ,.ad interceding for perishing sinners." 
 
 Pros. " O, I hope he pleads for me!" 
 
 Dr. P. " You need not fear to trust him, for he died for 
 sinners; and he says, come unto me, all ye that labour and 
 are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." The doctor add- 
 ed many similar quotations, to her great encouragement. 
 
 November 3d. 
 Rebecca, who buried her mother, has lately been mar- 
 
202 VISITS OF MEUCY. 
 
 ried to a young and reputable man, a currier, to whom 
 she was engaged before the death of her parent. 
 
 In one ward of the alms-house, several have lately died 
 of the typhus fever. Soon after I preached there on the 
 last sabbath morning, one who heard me, gave up the 
 ghost, whose corpse, to gratify friends, or for some other 
 reason, was suffered to remain in the room, full of sick 
 persons, until Monday. On the day of its removal, the 
 nurse, a faithful attendant on the deceased, and a pious 
 woman, was seized with the same malady. It was pain- 
 ful, indeed, to see one laid low, who had been serviceable 
 to multitudes^ and affecting to behold the most respecta- 
 ble of the poor flocking around her, to mingle tears and 
 prayers for her recovery. 
 
 To a serious woman, whom I have known for some 
 weeks, and who is dying in the same ward, I said, ** you 
 seem almost gone." 
 
 *'Yes, sirj I shall go soon," was her reply, *'but I 
 cannot hasten the time. Sometimes I am almost impa- 
 tient to be gone, that I may be with Jesus, but I must wait 
 my appointed time, and he will come soon." 
 
 At the commencement of public worship this morning, 
 I was requested so soon as possible to come and pray 
 with two persons, who have been my constant hearers. 
 After sermon I went; but one was deadj and her coffin, 
 half full of pine shavings, for her bed, was on the floor, 
 beside the lifeless body. 
 
 The girl with whom Dr. Proudfit conversed has entered 
 the eternal world. While the patients in the hospital 
 were praising God, this afternoon, a man in the opposite 
 room awoke, and asked, ''what singing is that?" In 
 half an hour after I was with him, and he breathed his 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 203 
 
 last in my presence, while I commented upon the scene, 
 and sought to prepare the beholders for the exchange of 
 worlds. A man was the preacher, but God made an im- 
 mediate, practical application of the discourse. 
 
 November 7th, 
 
 To detect deception in one whose happiness has been 
 industriously sought, is painful. Detection, however, of 
 every imposture, is desirable. 
 
 To-day, I have received a very polite letter from the 
 post-master in Guildhall, which states, that the letters to 
 Mrs. Martha Stillwell, have been duly advertised, that 
 diligent inquiries for such a person have been made, and 
 that no such person resides either in that town or its vi- 
 cinity. This letter was enclosed and presented to Caro- 
 line, with another, of which the following is a 
 
 COPY. 
 
 " New lorkj Nov, 7th, 1811. 
 " Caroline, 
 
 " You must know that I feel deeply interested in your 
 temporal and eternal welfare. You have received a few 
 favours, without knowing whence they came, and they 
 were intended as pledges of future services. I am still 
 ready to promote your welfare. But you must permit 
 me to deal plainly as well as kindly with you. 
 
 '' Long have I perceived, that to hear me speak of ex- 
 pecting a letter from your mother gave you pain. You 
 have deceived mej but remember that I can forgive, and 
 forget. Yea, I could plead some extenuation of your 
 crime, for it was with reluctance that you consented to 
 my addressing your mother. Believe me still your friend. 
 
204 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 if you repent. You have done evil in this affair. You 
 should be sorry, not so much that you have wronged me, 
 as that you have displeased God. You are a young wo- 
 man too well instructed, not to know your mother's name, 
 and the town, county, and state of her residence. I be- 
 seech you, then, to give me a true account, and I will not 
 needlessly expose you, or the address of your mother. If 
 you will permit me to write to her, this deception shall 
 not be published to the patients, who have anticipated 
 your second fall. Trust in me still, and if others will not 
 assist you, I will, so long as you evince hatred of your past 
 misconduct. As you value your immortal soul, tell me 
 the whole truth, or nothing. Tell me your name, your 
 wants, your trials in relation to your friends, and you 
 will find me one who can pity and pardon a thousand 
 times. A second deception will not answer. The past 
 shall be as though it had not been. With God there is 
 mercy. O may you fly to him for the pardon of every sin? 
 *' Your friend, who, under Christ, would be your pre- 
 server from misery and hell." 
 
 November 9th. 
 
 The matron of the hospital sent me word, that notwith- 
 standing all her remonstrances, Caroline was determined 
 to leave the hospital before she was sufBciently restored, 
 to quit the city. My remonstrances were added, and she 
 was solemnly warned against returning to the abodes of 
 ill fame; for there no one could counsel, or exhort, or 
 assist her; there her companions would entice; and there 
 want might, in some sense, be said to compel. No other 
 family would receive a female stranger, and she was des- 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 205 
 
 titute of the means of providing for herself. She cried 
 like a child, but would not turn her face away from the 
 wall. In a conversation of more than an hour, she did 
 not once look on the speaker. She must leave the hospi- 
 tal, she said, but was firmly resolved never to return to 
 past iniquity. This testimony concerning her resolutions 
 could not be accredited by any one, in case of her depar- 
 ture! and I told her that I should consider her discharge 
 from the hospital, a voluntary plunge into the pit of de- 
 struction. 
 
 November lOM. 
 
 Yesterday, in the afternoon, crying and trembling, the 
 foolish Caroline left her safe asylum. Whither she went 
 I know not; but disappointed as we all are, who sought 
 her restoration, with this we may comfort ourselves, that 
 in some feeble manner we have imitated him who came 
 from heaven to seek the lost. 
 
 Patty,* a poor girl, who has been in the hospital many 
 months, and who has conducted with perfect propriety, 
 says, **0 that I could have similar proposals of protec- 
 tion." For months she has dreaded nothing so much as 
 the thought of being discharged from the hospital with- 
 out the means of subsistence. 
 
 An assurance that she should not be compelled to re- 
 turn to a house of bad fame, while I could command a 
 dollar, she received with a courtesy, a tear, and the de- 
 claration, that she felt herself unworthy of such kindness. 
 
 November 14M. 
 Early on Monday morning, the II th instant, I went to 
 • See date of May 26th. 
 
 VOL. I. S 
 
206 VISITS OF MEKCY. 
 
 Long-Island, and did not return until this evening. Im- 
 mediately on my arrival my brother invited me to go with 
 him and see a sick woman. Reluctantly'! went a mile, 
 and whom should I see but Caroline! Never did I ex- 
 pect to see her face again; but now I found her in a decent 
 house, under the care of a worthy woman, whose husband 
 was present. The circumstances which led to this meet- 
 ing were these. 
 
 My brother, lately returned from England, had accom- 
 panied me to the hospital, on the sabbath, at different 
 times, and there had seen Caroline in tears. What I sup- 
 posed to be her history I had told him; and on the 10th 
 made him acquainted with her departure, saying that I 
 considered her lost for ever. 
 
 On the same morning that I went to Long-Island, my 
 brother, in walking the streets, saw Caroline weeping at 
 a window. She knew him not; and he entered the house 
 with the intention of ascertaining whether she were aban- 
 doned in principle. He requested to see her alone. She 
 refused, saying that she had been vile, but she would 
 hereafter see no gentleman alone. Her female compa- 
 nions entreated her to comply, alleging that she was in 
 want of money, and had earned nothing since her return. 
 She absolutely refused to speak with him, in any other 
 place than before company. He had now gained the in- 
 formation which he desired, and presented to her his card. 
 
 '* Are you his brother?" 
 
 «Yes." 
 
 '* And have you come to assist me?" 
 
 He assured her that he had come for that purpose alone, 
 and would seek her decent lodgings, if she would prefer 
 them to her present abode. She had returned to the house 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 207 
 
 whence she went, when received at the hospital; but she 
 protested that she had not returned from any disposition 
 to live dishonestly. No other house could she find for a 
 shelter, and here she expected to get well, that she might 
 go home. 
 
 ** But you deceived my brother, and the governors of 
 the hospital," he said. 
 
 On this subject she could have desired silence; but she 
 confessed, that she had borne a fictitious name in the city. 
 Aside from this, she had rather suffered the minister to be 
 deceived^ than actually deceived him; for her mother's 
 name was Martha, and she did live in Guildhall. ** He 
 concluded that my mother's name was Stillwell, because I 
 went by that surname." She then made my brother ac- 
 quainted with her own and her parent's real name, and 
 present place of residence. Still she insisted that she had 
 been seduced from a boarding-school; but more of her 
 history could not willingly relate. 
 
 After these disclosures and professions of repentance 
 for her misconduct, my brother determined to seek for 
 her a better home. After several unsuccessful attempts, 
 he met Mr. Joseph George, and stated the whole affair. 
 This young gentleman procured for her, whom I shall 
 still call Caroline, her present asylum, and went with my 
 brother to remove her from the gates of hell. 
 
 This evening I demanded of her, " why did you leave 
 the hospital?" She could not endure, she said, to see 
 those who had treated her kindly, and whom she had de- 
 ceived. She expected, moreover, that the patients, who 
 were always threatening her with the alms-house, would 
 reproach her more bitterly than ever. This did not ex- 
 cuse her from censure, mingled, nevertheless, with exhor- 
 tation and compassion. 
 
208 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 November \6th. 
 
 Mr. George, and many others, have long been revolv- 
 ing in their minds the plan of a Magdalen Asylumj and 
 the adventure in which he has lately been engaged, has 
 given such a spur to his feelings, and such a tale to excite 
 compassion, that the exertions of this young man will 
 probably found the desired institution. Nothing is ne- 
 cessary but zeal to give the thing a commencement. 
 
 Should Caroline be lost for ever, her history, whether 
 true or false, may be employed by divine Providence, so 
 that it shall become the means of salvation to many. At 
 present, Dr. John C. Osborne, one of the physicians of 
 the hospital, very humanely attends upon her without 
 money and without price. 
 
 December 11th. 
 
 Since others have taken the charge of Caroline, I have 
 gladly witnessed their exertions, and, to encourage those 
 who cannot bring their minds to assist deceivers, have 
 travelled, going and returning, more than three hundred 
 and fifty miles, that I might visit her mother. When 
 drawing near the place in which I expected to find the 
 object of my search, some affirmed that there was, and 
 others that there was not, such a being in existence. At 
 my arrival in the town, a gentleman of distinction, Mr. 
 Knickerbocker, received me at dinner; and the afternoon 
 was spent in fruitless inquiries, from house to house. 
 Some knew the woman, and others did not. The sun had 
 descended, and hope almost failed me, when I strolled for 
 the distance of a mile or two into a pine wood. It was 
 dark and the path muddy. At a distance I saw a light. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 209 
 
 which proceeded from a log-house. This I entered, and 
 saw some children, naked almost as they were born, sleep- 
 ing in the ashes. Of the mother I demanded if she knew 
 the family which I sought to find. She didj and asked 
 if I were a son, for, said she, " the woman had a son who 
 favours you; and he lives away." She gave me such di- 
 rections, that the next morning, before it was light, I 
 galloped away many miles from the house of my honoura- 
 ble host; and before the sun had arisen from the moun- 
 tains, I saw the mother of Caroline. The resemblance 
 in their features assured me that there could be no mis- 
 take. The mother was carding cotton in an old-fashioned 
 farm-house; and had every appearance of the decent pover- 
 ty of one who had seen happier days. 
 
 Before I discovered my business, she told me the num- 
 ber and circumstances of her children, which perfectly 
 corresponded with the account given by Caroline. ^'But 
 where is your youngest daughter?" With tears the mother 
 said she did not know. *' She was at a boarding-school, 
 kept by a teacher in the Methodist connexion, and she 
 was enticed away. I've heard she was married; and I've 
 heard she was dead. Do you know any thing about her?" 
 
 The intelligence was like news from the dead. The 
 mother wept, and laughed, and sighed, and wrung her 
 hands, and wondered her daughter did not return. 
 
 When I described the interview to Caroline, she disco- 
 vered almost as much frenzy of affection as her mother. 
 Still it remains uncertain whether they will ever meet 
 again: but of this I am certain, that the mother would 
 gladly embrace a long-lost child.* 
 
 • The curiosity of the reader has some claim to be gratified, by a 
 narration of some subsequent events, which relate to Caroline. In the 
 
 s 2 
 
210 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 December 12/A. 
 
 A YOUNG man who has cut his throat, but who is now 
 rational, signified his desire that the writer should pray 
 for him. What occasioned his attempt at suicide is un- 
 
 beginning of the year 1812, " the Magdalen Society of New-York" 
 was organized, of which Peter Wilson^ L. L. D. was President^ John 
 Murray J Jan. Vice-President, Thomas L. Ogden, Secretary, John Aspin- 
 wally Treasurer; and DivieBethune, Abraham Russel, John Cauldwell, 
 Leonard Bleeker, J. Yj. Caldwell, Robert Gosman, Thomas Harvey, 
 James Bleeker, Nicholas Fish, John Withington, Jacob Delamontagne, 
 Samuel Harris, Zechariah Lewis, Samuel Boyd, Joseph Smith, Nathan 
 Comstock, and J. P. Mumford, are Managers. The standing com- 
 mittee, who have the power delegated to them, afforded Caroline a 
 temporary asylum, and afterwards, since her last complaint required it, 
 removed her to the hospital for cure. No accommodations in the 
 house of a poor person, or of one in mediocrity, can equal those of the 
 hospital. It was a kindness, therefore, to bring her back to the insti- 
 tution from which she fled. 
 
 About the beginning of June, 1812, a woman, advanced in life, ap- 
 peared on the sabbath at the gate of the hospital, and requested ad- 
 mittance. Visiters on the sabbath are excluded, and she was therefore 
 denied. She entreated that she might at least see the preacher. He 
 went to the gate, knew her face, and understood, without any expla- 
 nation, her business. For three days she had been seeking in the city 
 for the person who sought her among the mountains. 
 
 ** Come in, come in " 
 
 '* After I have heard you preach," she said, "I should be glad to 
 learn of you " 
 
 ** Yes, yes, you shall see the person," the preacher said, and leading 
 the way, pointed her to the room in which he was to officiate. She 
 entered, and sat down on a bench, at the foot of the bed on which her 
 daughter lay. In a moment their eyes met; and Oh! what a meeting 
 was that! It was too sudden and unexpected. They wept together; 
 and when the preacher commenced public worship, the poor old wo- 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 21 1 
 
 known. He is an American, who was impressed on board 
 a British ship of war, but obtained his pay and a discharge 
 in August of the present year. He had been in this city 
 but a few days, before he delivered his money into the 
 hands of his landlord, and perpetrated the deed against 
 his own flesh. 
 
 The writer conversed also with P — G — , a man of mid- 
 dle age, who seems to have been seriously aroused from 
 spiritual lethargy, while in the hospital. 
 
 December 13M. 
 
 This evening the suicide became furious against him- 
 selfj said he might as well die now as confess his sins to 
 
 man was still bending over her weeping child. Yea, during the whole 
 service, the mother would walk before the bed of her daughter, cry, 
 wring her hands, look at the preacher, and then her child, smile, and 
 sob again. She would have taken Caroline home with her; but the 
 state of her health would not then permit. She has since been restor- 
 ed to soundness, and has returned to her afflicted parent. 
 
 What will become of this miserably seduced person, remains to be 
 decided by her own conduct. She may continue to behave well, and 
 she may fall more basely than ever. Over her real name, and perhaps 
 all the future, should it be known to the writer, it will be best to draw 
 the vail of night. It is sufficient, that the influence of her history in 
 giving rise to the Magdalen Society, has already been exhibited. 
 Should that institution be conducted on the principles of similar cha- 
 rities in Europe, it will undoubtedly be productive of much good. It 
 has already received Patty, and some others. Should the members 
 merely save an individual annually, their labours would not be without 
 an adequate reward in the present life. Let it never be forgotten, 
 that Jesus kindly instructed the woman of Samaria, who was living in 
 an illicit connexion; and that publicans and harlots enter the kingdom 
 of heaven, while multitudes of the censorious are excluded. 
 
212 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 a court, and be hung; and made such vigorous exertions, 
 that four men could not prevent him from tearing open 
 his wounds, that he might rush upon the judgment of 
 Jehovah. 
 
 December ]6th. 
 
 A YOUNG man, who has heard me preach for many 
 weeks in the hospital, who was convalescing in the alms- 
 house, but who now has a fever, requested that I would 
 come and see him once more before his death. Poor fel- 
 low! he could not converse; he could only clasp his hands 
 and look up. In this posture were his hands and eyes, 
 when I left him. Who can say that he may not, by the 
 eye of faith, penetrate the vail, which obscures heaven 
 from busy mortals,^ 
 
 December \7th. 
 
 The man of whom I wrote on the 12th instant, was 
 anxious to see me; and assures me, to-day, that he would 
 wish, never, never to sin again, were hell annihilated. He 
 would not willingly displease the compassionate God, were 
 he disarmed of his thunders. 
 
 It is seriously to be apprehended, that comparatively 
 few sailors will make the haven of eternal bliss. They 
 sail upon an opposite course; their passions are the gales, 
 and they spread all their canvass. 
 
 One I have seen to-day who seems bound in a right 
 direction. He has been constrained to come about. Ac- 
 cording to his statement, he was born in Salem, Massa- 
 chusetts, and has been for many years a bold, profane, 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 213 
 
 rampant tar. Until two years ago he was the chief of 
 bulliesj would defy every manj and when on shore, found 
 the highest gratification in a riot. His mother and grand- 
 mother were pious. Whenever he landed in his native 
 state, he went immediately to see the latter, because he 
 loved her as much as his mother. About two years since 
 this Lois, who had imitated the grandmother of Timothy, 
 went to glory. He was accustomed to think of her with 
 delight, and his conscience frequently proposed to his 
 heart this question: " how can I ever expect to meet that 
 pious relative?" He was convinced that two persons so 
 different as they were could never meet in heaven, unless 
 he was first converted. Thus commenced his seriousness: 
 and he went to sea again.. On the voyage he was con- 
 templative, and diligently applied himself to the Bible, to 
 learn how he might meet that good woman. In the book 
 he found that there is no heaven, without being a new 
 creature in Christ Jesus. **To show you, sir,'* he said, 
 " what Christ can do, I must say, that my messmates were 
 afraid of me, because I was so blasphemously wicked; but 
 HE has made me like a little child. I, who always desired 
 a boxing-match, have since been more pleased to be smitten 
 on both cheeks without returning it, than I should be to 
 receive a hundred dollars." 
 
 December I8th. 
 
 P — G — , dying with a rapid consumption, is still so- 
 licitous about the way of life. This is the object of his 
 chief concern; but he wishes also to prepare a peaceful 
 grave for his bones. To an amanuensis, one of his fellow- 
 patients, he dictated the following 
 
214 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 LETTER. 
 
 '' New-York Hospital, ISth Dec. 1811. 
 
 ** HONOURED FATHER, 
 
 " I am sorry to be obliged to inform you that I am at this 
 present time obliged to get a person to write for me to 
 you, to let you know that I am very sick in the New-York 
 hospital, and to all appearance near to the end of my life. 
 And as I am destitute of money, and wish to be buried in 
 some decent manner, which cannot be done without it, I 
 therefore request you to send me some for that purpose as 
 soon as possible, after you receive this, as I know not how 
 soon my time may come. I have been a wicked child, but 
 I pray you, Oh my dearest father! not to refuse this last 
 request of your dying son. Ten dollars will be sufficient 
 to procure me a bed, where my body may remain unmo- 
 lested. Please to send it to Mr. Noah Wetmore, the 
 superintendent of the New-York hospital, who will see it 
 faithfully applied for that purpose. In the mean time, 
 and I believe for the last time, permit me to subscribe 
 myself your distressed and almost dying son, 
 
 P— G— . 
 
 **Mr. D— G— . 
 
 " P. S. Give my duty to my mother, for the last time." 
 To one of his brethren he writes'under the same date : 
 *' If my brother Samuel is at home, give my love to 
 him, and if possible I wish to see him here, before I die. 
 I am a great sinnerj I have been a wild high fellow, but 
 now I pray God to forgive my sins, before I come to his 
 judgment. Give my last love to all my sisters, and the 
 rest of my kindred. 
 
 P. G.'' 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 215 
 
 December 19M. 
 
 In one ward of the alms-house, in which I prayed to- 
 day, were nine or ten persons dangerously sick. There 
 was so much groaning from bodily pain, that I could 
 scarcely think of any thing else. Prayers were offered 
 also in the presence of about forty women of ill fame; of 
 whom not more than four appear to have any sort of care 
 for their immortal souls. Two of these persons were M. 
 B. and Amy W — n, of whom I have repeatedly written. 
 The other two I know not, but one of them wept and 
 prayed aloud, in a few words, which denoted great fear 
 and anxiety. 
 
 Becember 23 c?. 
 
 This evening P — G — died, with a composed spirit. 
 When he felt himself near the eternal world, he was un- 
 concerned for the mortal part. Jesus Christ will raise it 
 up at the last day, and should the particles of dust be 
 scattered to the four winds. He who formed man will be 
 at no loss for materials, in erecting the spiritual frame.* 
 
 December 25th. 
 
 The Rev. John Stanford has been abundant in his 
 gratuitous labours among the inhabitants of the State's 
 Prison. One of the prisoners to-day expressed his grati- 
 titude to this gentleman in a poetical address, of which 
 the following is 
 
 • The letters which were forwarded to the friends of P — G — , 
 were not received until long after his death. Immediately on the re- 
 ception, the father directed a very affecting letter to me, in which he 
 inquires after his son; and proffers him, if living, all suitable assistance. 
 
216 VISITS OF MERCY. ^ 
 
 AN EXTRACT. 
 
 ** To sooth the sick, to lead the blind, 
 And comfort give the wretched mind. 
 You always take a feeling part. 
 And find admission to the heart. 
 All this is done in such kind ways 
 As captivate the heart that strays, 
 And consolation often brings, 
 As though it were on angels* wings. 
 When justice lifts the sword of state, 
 All must of course submit their fate. 
 Yet if, through error, she should strike 
 The just and the unjust alike. 
 Your doctrine still shall bring to sight 
 The brightest day in darkest night. 
 Many there are, who see with pain 
 The prison door, and prison chain. 
 Yet few there are so free to give 
 Their time and service to relieve." 
 
 In the last lines, the prisoner alludes to the fact, that 
 most of the ministers of the gospel, who preach in rota- 
 tion at the prison, give only the service of half the sab- 
 bath, because it is inconvenient to desert their respective 
 churches; vs^hile Mr. Stanford, having no parochial 
 charge, and feeling compassion for those who would 
 otherwise be in close confinement, labours with them 
 during the whole day. 
 
 Another prisoner, being desirous of expressing his 
 gratitude for the preaching of the gospel, wrote an ad- 
 dress to Mr. Stanford in the Latin language, which he 
 translated, and presented to the superintendent in a letter, 
 which for elegance and delicacy of compliment, has rare- 
 ly been surpassed by any pen. The following is 
 
VISITS OF MERCr. 217 
 
 A COPY OF THE LETTER. 
 
 *'To Nicholas Roome, Esq. 
 ^'^ Indulgent Sir, 
 
 " Permit me, through the medium of yourself, to pre- 
 sent the Rev. Mr. Stanford with a New- Year's gift. The 
 friendly and disinterested manner in vi^hich he has so fre- 
 quently addressed us, has impressed me, and, I sincerely 
 believe, many others, with a deep sense of our obligations. 
 I am not authorized to address him in behalf of the prison- 
 ers, though individuals cordially assent, but beg leave, 
 in the commencement of the new year, to give him a 
 small token of our gratitude. The mode may appear 
 novel. I have written it in Latin, not with a view to ex- 
 hibit a specimen of an imperfect and much impaired edu- 
 cation, but merely to pay a just compliment to Mr. Stan- 
 ford's superior understanding. For your own personal 
 convenience, I have annexed to this a translation, as lite- 
 ral as the peculiar idioms of the two languages would 
 permit. There are undoubtedly many imperfections; but 
 Mr. Stanford's well known goodness encourages a hope, 
 that he will view it with candour. 
 
 *' Notwithstanding the gratitude I feel for Mr. Stanford, 
 it is not confined to him alone. You, sir, hold anj equal 
 claim. For the numerous instances of your past kind- 
 ness, I wish you, on this occasion, a restoration of your 
 health. May you liberally enjoy the blessings of the new 
 year. May you long live to enjoy conjugal and paternal 
 felicity. May the lives of those sweet babes, who daily 
 delight you with their innocent prattle, be prolonged; 
 and may they become ornaments to society, in whose 
 future prosperity you anticipate the joys of your old age. 
 
 VOL. I. T 
 
218 VISITS or MERCY. 
 
 " With sentiments of gratitude, I subscribe myself the 
 unfortunate 
 
 *'Obadiah Parker." 
 
 Jl copy of the enclosed translation, 
 
 '*A NEW year's gift.'* 
 
 '* With diffidence addressed to the most reverend John Stan' 
 ford, Master of Arts, Doctor of Divinity, and the friend of 
 man.* 
 
 " If it be proper for me, a wretch, confined in a prison 
 and clothed with disgrace, to greet youj contemplating 
 the events of the past year, and your numerous endeav- 
 ours to instruct our ignorant minds, I wish you the bless- 
 ings of heaven. Your labours, in consoling the wretched 
 and drawing souls to the Saviour of sinners, demand our 
 thanks. I have not words, whereby I can express the 
 feelings of my heart. Not flattery, but the truth, I speak. 
 There is a suavity in your manner of speaking, which 
 gives comfort to the most miserable, and plainly indicates 
 the humanity of the speaker. While the body languishes 
 through grief, you nourish the soul by gospel food. 
 
 '' As hard wax is rendered soft by fire, so by your dis- 
 courses stubborn hearts are prepared to receive the im- 
 pressions of divine truth; and, while the mind wanders 
 in error, you point out the way which leads to eternal 
 happiness. 
 
 *' For your kind services, with which we have so fre- 
 quently been favoured, I pray that your prosperity may 
 
 • The English reader will remember, that this is the usual style 
 of address, which was used among the polite Romans. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 219 
 
 be increased, this year; that you may live long here be- 
 low; and when you quit this mortal life, may God receive 
 you to the mansions above, where, joined with the saints, 
 you may for ever exalt the praises of God and the Lamb. 
 
 '* Thus prays 
 
 '* Obadiah Parker." 
 
 It is a proof of the scholarship of tHis prisoner, that to 
 the original paper he has subjoined a note, altering the 
 phraseology, that he might avoid the repetition of the 
 same word. Such prisoners have sufficient talents to 
 render them good critics, and the man who thinks that a 
 weak discourse " will answer for the State's Prison," has 
 forgotten that /oo/s are never rogues. Perhaps six hun- 
 dred hearers, who possess equal acuteness with the pri- 
 soners, cannot easily be assembled in any church. They 
 very soon discover what they think of the talent and feel- 
 ing of a preacher, and when neither is manifested, had 
 he eyes of observation, he might witness their contempt 
 and his own disgrace. 
 
 Prisons, and new settlements, which frequently abound 
 with infidels, and persons who disregard divine ordinan- 
 ces, are the last places which should be visited by those 
 weak things of the world which are of little use in well- 
 informed societies, A weak man may minister to a 
 church already established, but a weak missionary will 
 not commonly assemble the outcasts, and awe the profane. 
 
 December 28th, 
 
 On Thursday last, I visited fifty sick persons in the 
 alms-house; on Friday, four wards in the hospital; and 
 to-day, five poor families. In one, to which I went at the 
 
220 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 request of Mrs. B n, was found a young widow with 
 
 two small children, who said, " when I look upon my 
 babes, nature cries, life, life; but I can resign them to'God, 
 for he is a merciful God." Her conversation was all of 
 this description, and exquisitely tender. 
 
 December SOth. 
 
 Many ministers of the word have visited a man, who 
 is now in confinement under sentence of death, and who 
 is to be executed in a few days. He said to me, *' many 
 urge me to declare that I am confident of pardon, but I 
 cannot, I will not say any such thing. I can only say, 
 that I submit myself to the will of God, having some fee- 
 ble hope that he will accept me as righteous for the sake 
 of Christ, and make me happy in heaven.'* 
 
 The history of this man is short. He Avas born in Scot- 
 land, was a baker by profession, and removed to this 
 country with his wife. She became intemperate in the use 
 of ardent spirits, and squandered his earnings. They 
 quarrelled, and he forsook her. A shock of the palsy 
 disabled him, and then, for his maintainance, he began 
 to peddle small books, songs, and pictures. He took 
 a housekeeper, with whom he lived unlawfully, who was 
 a drunkard, no less than his wife. His new trade and 
 company made him a tippler also. On the morning of 
 the fatal deed, he arose at five o'clock, went to a neigh- 
 bouring dram-shop, drank freely, returned home, and 
 went to bed. At seven o'clock he awoke, and found that 
 his concubine, who had been out, drunken, all night, had 
 returned and plundered his pocket. She too had taken 
 her morning draught, and was insensible beside him. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 221 
 
 In his fury he arose, " half drunken, but more mad," as 
 he confessed to me, and with a stick gave her the blows 
 which were followed by death. 
 
 When Sinclair and Johnson were about to be executed, 
 last January, this man was selling near Bridewell, the 
 ** last words and dying speeches of the criminals,'* made 
 by the printer, with a picture of the same gallows to 
 which the laws of God and his country require him to 
 come. 
 
 ** Around the bed of loose desire, 
 
 For ever hover wild tumultuous dreams; 
 Some veng-eful brother wills the duel dire, 
 
 The ghost of some defloured women screams; 
 
 Some chaste Lucina, butchered, bleeding lies, 
 While angry justice whets her flaming sword; 
 
 By treachery stabb'd, some worthier rival dies, 
 And the grim hangman knots the shameful cord." 
 
 W. M. JOHKSOX. 
 
 December 31*/. 
 
 INSANITY. 
 
 " Yon shiv'ring wretch, (whose pale and squalid form, 
 Which streaming rags o'erhang, but not infold, 
 Seems mounting on the wild wing of the storm. 
 Worn to a ghost by hunger, thirst, and cold,) 
 
 Two little years ago, could boast a bloom 
 That might with Hebe's or Hygeia's vie; 
 Content and pleasure made that breast their home 
 That now, so bare and purple, braves the sky." 
 
 W. M. Johnson's MS. 
 
 Havikg brought my journal to the last day of the year, 
 I propose to conclude it, by giving a short history of several 
 
 T 2 
 
222 TISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 insane persons, whom I have seen, in different situations. 
 Where I have seen them, will not always be saiclj nor can 
 it be a matter of much consequence to the reader; but 
 upon the fidelity of my representations may be placed firm 
 reliance. What I have seen I must believe, and what I 
 shall write from the testimony of others, is from such cre- 
 dible witnesses, that I am firmly convinced of its truth, 
 and nothing may be thought a fiction. 
 
 Who does not pity the " shiv'ring wretch," who is lost 
 to himself and society? What can have produced his insa- 
 nity? To give a medical dissertation on this subject, were 
 it in my power, would not be my province; but to treat of 
 several moral causes of mental derangement, may subserve 
 the interests of humanity and religion. Misconduct is 
 more commonly the predisposing cause to madness than 
 any inevitable providence. A blow on the head, a fever, 
 intense heat, coup de soleil, and lunar changes, may affect 
 the brain and whole nervous system; but intemperance' 
 in drink, inordinate attachments, and vicious indulgences, 
 are the most common sources of mental disorder. That 
 person who yields himself to any inordinate passion, ex- 
 poses his rational faculties to a collapse. Avarice, lust, 
 infidelity, and imprudence, are the prolific causes of more 
 than half that disorder which bears various names, under 
 its different appearances, from ?i. wild imagination X.o fatuity. 
 
 The love of money, when inordinate, is " a root of evil." 
 I have known a young woman, who lost twenty dollars in 
 the street, which she could not find; and who, after a few 
 days of anxiety on the subject, became a maniac. It was 
 a large sum, indeed, to her; but would any person, who 
 duly estimated the value of gold and silver, become a bed- 
 lamite for such a paltry consideration? Yet this young 
 
VISITS OF MEHCY. 223 
 
 woman was so frantic as to jump out of a chamber win- 
 dow, and died in a week. While we pity her, we cannot 
 but exclaim, 
 
 "Curs'd gold! how high will daring mortals rise 
 
 In ev'ry guilt, to reach the glittering prize?'* Pitt. 
 
 The love of country is commendable, but when unre- 
 strained, it is madness. From this cause I have seen a 
 GermanjWho stands on this side the Atlantic, and converses 
 from morning till evening with the people of Germany. 
 He doubts not but they hear, and he, in return, is perfectly 
 apprized of their answers. 
 
 Another man I know, who marches up to every stranger 
 whom he is permitted to see, with the brim of his hat fold- 
 ed under, before and behind, to make it resemble a military 
 cap, and putting his crooked finger into his mouth gives 
 a tremendous whistle. The stranger will naturally trem- 
 ble, but there is no danger; for the young man, tall and 
 majestic, even in rags and filth, is one of 
 
 " Rough nature's children, humorous as she." 
 
 He v/as one who took some part in what is called ** the 
 late rebellion in Ireland," and found- it necessary to escape 
 for his life to America. From some, who knew him at 
 home, we learn that he was a reputable farmer. Now he 
 wishes to talk about the blood-thirsty fellows who caught 
 him by the throat, from whom he fled; but more particularly 
 about the people of Kilkenny, his neighbours, his father's 
 farm, and '' uncle Patrick over the way." He insists upon 
 it, that he knew me there, and had letters from me, which 
 he still preserves. In this country he was disappointed, 
 and ^' the green little Isle of the Ocean" was so connected 
 with all his affections, that they with his reason have re- 
 
224 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 turned to it, and left nothing but the erect animal in 
 America. 
 
 Let us learn, then, not to love the place of our nativity 
 or any prosperous condition supremely, lest our souls, 
 being wedded to earth, should be involved in her final 
 ruin, and beholding her vanish, should say, '' we have 
 lost all." 
 
 To prevent confusion, I shall introduce several distinct 
 articles^ and the first will exhibit the danger of yielding to 
 
 VICIOUS COMPANY. 
 
 A young Irishman, not long ago, left a wife and child, 
 whom he tenderly regarded, in the land of his fathers, 
 and came to this country to improve his condition. His 
 family he left behind, because he could pay for only one 
 passage, and knew not how he should succeed in Ame- 
 rica. Here he found constant employment, and resolved 
 to remove his family, so soon as he could send them suf- 
 ficient money to discharge their necessary expenses on 
 the voyage. He earned twenty dollars, and delivered into 
 the hands of his uncle the same sum, that it might be 
 preserved in safety. In a few months, he cleared by his 
 labour fifty dollars more, and then took the seventy, to 
 deliver to a captain, who had engaged to bring him his 
 partner and child. He was on his way to the ship, with 
 all his property in his pocket, when he met some of his 
 jovial countrymen, to whom, with the frankness of his 
 nation, he told his good fortune. They enticed him into a 
 common grog-shop; and he in his prosperity began to 
 treat them. In return they made him drink. The social 
 whiskey went round, and round again, until the unfortu- 
 nate young man sunk down in slumber on the floor. In 
 the morning he awoke, chiding himself for his folly; and 
 
VISITS OF MliUCY. 225 
 
 here his misery commenced. He felt in his pockets for 
 his moneys but it was in vain. His seducers and his mo- 
 ney were gone together. He had nothing to remit to his 
 wife; his courage was gone; and after walking the streets 
 a few days in melancholy, he became a maniac. A course 
 of medicine cured his raving, but left him in a state of fa- 
 tuity. Now he cares nothing for the friends he once loved, 
 nothing for his wife, nothing for his child; and will proba- 
 bly die in stupidity. Such were the results of yielding to 
 vicious company, for a night. These sons of Hibernia 
 are some of the noblest, or some of the vilest of men. 
 Their love of company is one of their greatest temptations. 
 Could their hospitality here command nothing more than 
 the hard, but welcome fare of Erin, it would-be produc- 
 tive of little evil; but in America, one who would give his 
 guest a potato in Ireland, gives him "a mug, stiff, and far 
 to the north;" a besotting, deadly dram. 
 
 THE CURSE OF AVARICE. 
 
 The subject of this article, whose history is a comment 
 upon the caption, is an aged woman, who is now depen- 
 dent on alms for subsistence. Once, she had friends and 
 possessions, leased several houses, and lived in affluence. 
 She was single, and, in middle age, avarice became her 
 predominant passion. After an ominous course of ex- 
 tortion, a quarter-day arrived, on which she sallied forth 
 to collect rents. Among her tenants, she found a woman 
 that held in her arms a child of fourteen days. The 
 husband of this mother was a worthless man, but she 
 had l>een hitherta punctual in payments; and would now 
 have been, had she not been subject to unusual expendi- 
 
226 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 tures. When the griping landlady called, the poor wo- 
 man was unable to leave her bed. 
 
 "Pay me that thou owest," said the maiden lady. 
 
 '' Wait a little while, and I will pay thee all," said the 
 tenant, and plead the peculiarity of her circumstances, to 
 one who could not feel for the mother of babes, that are 
 worse than fatherless while the father lives. Payment the 
 owner of the house would have, and payment she did 
 have ; for when she took the bed from under the sick mo- 
 ther to sell it at auction, the child of sorroM', the mother 
 in anguish said, " may you never again sleep on a bed while you 
 live," This was probably uttered with no pious emotion^ 
 but, in the issue, it appears to have been a curse which 
 took effect^ for the person against whom it was fulminated 
 has never since slept on any other bed than the floor. 
 After that unhappy day, her conscience smote her, and 
 at first she could not sleep any where. Afterwards she 
 refused to make the attempt on any bed, and for many 
 years, even to this day, accepts of nothing but a blanket 
 and the floor. 
 
 Her intellectual faculties became disordered, and her 
 property was soon dispersed. Although her reason has 
 forsaken her, yet her pride has not. Suitable clothing is 
 offered her, but she will not receive it, because she was 
 **not accustomed to such attire." I have seen her bare- 
 foot in the midst of winter, because she could not obtain 
 kid shoes and silk stockings; and she is always bare-head- 
 ed in the rain and sunshine, because she wants a tasty bon^ 
 net. She will wear a fine calico gown until it is all tattered 
 to shivers, even in the winter, when it no more than half 
 covers her body, to the rejection of warm but coarse 
 woollen garments. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 227 
 
 A tatter'd apron hides, 
 
 Worn as a cloak, and hardly hides, a gown 
 More tatter'd still; and both but ill conceal 
 A bosom heav'd with never-ceasing sighs." 
 
 Her delirium is not, however, so well calculated to ex- 
 cite sympathy as that of Cowper's Crazy Kate. In her 
 ornaments she is still fantastic^ for having slit her ears 
 down repeatedly with ponderous rings, like the hoops 
 which were lately in vogue, she now ties twine to her ears, 
 and suspends brass baubles from the flaxen thread. Neither 
 entreaty nor force can change her habits. The curse of 
 avarice has entered into that heart, which once nurtured 
 the demonj it pervades the life, and is likely to be lasting 
 as futurity. 
 
 DISAPPOINTMENTS. 
 
 A young lady, the daughter of a judge, had high ex- 
 pectations from her father's affluence and her own personal 
 accomplishments. She was caressed by many friends, 
 and had not anticipated adversity. It came, however, and 
 found her supremely attached to perishable objects. Her 
 father's property took wings, and in the place of flattering 
 attentions, came neglect. It was more than her mind could 
 endure. She became disconsolate^ madness followed; 
 fatuity succeeded, and a dysentery closed the mortal scene. 
 I have seen her seated in a window, where she would re- 
 main silent the livelong day; and, unless charity had for- 
 bidden, would have remained the livelong night. Her 
 large blue eyes were intensely fixed on nothing visible to 
 rational beings, and she refused to speak. Sad, indeed, 
 was her love of splendour and affluence! The change 
 wh'^ch she experienced was mortifying to vanity; but more 
 humbling to humanity was the effect of disappointment. 
 
228 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 A similar instance of insanity I have seen, in a young 
 man, who, for several years, vras particular in his atten- 
 tions to one of the most pleasing maids of his native vil- 
 lage. She apparently reciprocated his fondness; but 
 before his financial concerns vi^ould permit him to enter 
 the state of wedlock, the brisk young captain of a ship 
 saw the betrothed virgin, and by his money, or ardour, or 
 something else, made such an impression on her heart as 
 to efface the image of her first lover. The damsel was 
 married to the last, the favourite suitor, and the first lost 
 his reason. This disappointment was too heavy for him; 
 for he had idolized a woman, and when his god was taken 
 away, what had he left for his consolation? He became a 
 strange, unhappy being from the day of his disappointment. 
 Not long after his insanity became confiiymied, he got off 
 his brother's vessel from the wharf, and was going out to sea 
 with the tide. The pilots came alongside of him, and de- 
 manded what hands were on board. He said he had a mate 
 below. They insisted on seeing him, and behold, the ma- 
 niac brought up on deck his cat, which was his mate, and 
 the only companion of his intended voyage. To prevent 
 him from performing similar actions, his friends have put 
 him into a state of confinement, where he has all the bless- 
 ings which one in his condition is able to receive. 
 
 A third case of disappointment, which I shall state, is 
 that of a blooming young woman, who married an aged 
 man, from the hope of enjoying his affluence. After mar- 
 riage she found the scrutoire locked against her, and 
 instead of indulging herself in the elegancies of society, 
 she was forced to live economically. This would have 
 been a small trial to one who married from affection, but 
 it drove her to such madness, that, to be revenged on his 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 229 
 
 parsimony, she would sand the floor with Indian sugar. 
 With a babe in her arms, she has fled from her husband, 
 and with bare feet has travelled in a cold night tenor twelve 
 miles. Who can be happy in the matrimonial union? 
 
 '•Not sordid souls of earthly mould, 
 Who, drawn by kindred charms of gold, 
 
 To dull embraces move : 
 So two rich mountains of Peru 
 May rush to wealthy marriage too, 
 
 And make a world of love." — Watts, 
 
 None but fools despise money; but matrimony requires 
 some other foundation. 
 
 A fourth instance of insanity, from disappointment, may 
 be found in the person of a stately Frenchman, who was 
 a planter in one of the West-Indian Islands. He was in 
 affluence, but lost his estate by the misconduct of a com- 
 mercial partner. Being dissatisfied with his situation, he 
 removed to one of the largest cities in the United States, 
 and opened a hat-store, but did not prosper in his new 
 business. Disappointment upon disappointment made 
 him dejected. He could not associate with such company 
 as he had been familiar with; and the strange notion came 
 into his head that the citizens thought him black. To 
 rectify their unfavourable opinion, on this subject, he took 
 down his sign, and made an improvement upon it, by paint- 
 ing the word white, before his name. This however did 
 not obviate the difficulty, for, according to his imagina- 
 tion, every person still thought him black. His delirium 
 increased, and he forsook his shop to rove the streets. 
 All the scraps of waste paper which he could find he 
 thought were checks, or bank notes. With these he fre- 
 
 VOL. I. u 
 
230 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 quented the custom-house and banks of the city; until the 
 clerks, to be rid of this troublesome merchant, allowed him 
 to make deposits, and gave him in return strips of paper, 
 ■with such marks and signatures as little children make, 
 when they first write letters to their companions. Pro- 
 perty of this description he accumulated, until he was 
 worth, in his estimation, (judging as many great men 
 estimate paper,) the sum of several hundred thousand 
 dollars. 
 
 This unexampled prosperity did not diminish his ha- 
 tred of those who had defrauded him, or of those who 
 thought him black. I have seen him in the streets, loaded 
 with paper, and swollen with rage. To cure him, if pos- 
 sible, and keep him from mischief, he was conveyed to an 
 asylum; but the faculty have not been able to 
 
 -minister to a mind diseas'd; 
 
 Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; 
 Raze out the written troubles of the brain,- 
 And with some sweet oblivious antidote 
 Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff 
 Which weighs upon the heart." 
 
 A tall country girl, of good figure and agreeable man- 
 ners, presents a fifth case. In childhood she was first 
 among her school-mates, and although her parents were 
 poor, yet they were reputable, and associated with the 
 first families of the town. She was bred to the trade of a 
 mantua-maker, and excelled in her profession. Her good 
 sense, gracefulness, and industry, procured her, when 
 marriageable, the addresses of some of the most flourish- 
 ing young farmers of the neighbourhood. Several offers 
 of marriage were so flattering to her vanity, that she pre- 
 sumed to think, that she could command any alliance. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 231 
 
 (an imagination very common to the gay and prosperous,) 
 and therefore the young men of her village were allowed 
 to sue and be rejected. In the midst of this career of 
 coquetry, a rich uncle visited her father, and was pleased 
 with the fine person and agreeable conversation of his niece. 
 " The girl was made,'* said he, '' for something more than 
 a seamstress." This the young lady believed to be sound 
 doctrine. The uncle proposed to adopt her, to take her 
 to his place of residence, and to establish her in a shop of 
 jewellery. The proposal was no sooner made than ac- 
 cepted. She was furnished, in a large city, with a fine 
 assortment of jewellery, and for a time shone with the 
 splendour of a princess. Her fondest wishes were grati- 
 fied; but her head was not in a right condition for calcu- 
 lations. She could more easily count the profits of a day's 
 labour, than the loss and gain upon a box of golden orna- 
 ments. She became a bankrupt^ and in consequence of 
 the chagrin and vexation which she experienced, a lunatic. 
 Her uncle could not manage her, for she had now become 
 a princess, owned immense possessions, and could not 
 move without a retinue. He sent her back to her father; 
 but she could not live with a poor man. She thought, 
 and still thinks, herself mistress of coaches, castles, and 
 palaces. Her form is still erect, and her manner studi- 
 ously dignified. She is in confinement; but her abode is 
 her palace, and all the maniacs are her servants. For a 
 long time she refused to do any manner of work, and would 
 go naked in preference to wearing a coarse dress. She 
 was disciplined, however, with the shower-bath ; and in 
 making her own garments, proves that she has not forgot- 
 ten the use of her needle. 
 
252 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 A gentleman saw her making a shirt, and said, *' are 
 you at work, then?" 
 
 " no, sir,'* was her reply, " / was sewing a little Jine 
 work to absorb the perspiration of my Jingers.'* 
 
 Every thing is said and done by her in the same style. 
 Had she a few thousands, yearly, possibly she might not 
 conduct more like an insane person, than many other 
 splendid and extravagant daughters of pleasure. 
 
 The last person to whom I shall allude under this head, 
 resembles crazy Kate. 
 
 " There often wanders one, whom better days 
 Saw better clad, in cloak of satin trimm'd 
 With lace, and hat with splendid riband bound. 
 A serving niaid was she, and fell in love 
 With one who left her, went to sea, and died. 
 Her fancy follow'd him through foaming waves 
 To distant shores; and she would sit and weep 
 At what a sailor suffers; fancy, too, 
 Delusive most where warmest wishes are. 
 Would oft anticipate his glad return, 
 x\nd dream of transports she was not to know. 
 She heard the doleful tidings of his death, 
 And never smiled again ! " 
 
 Eliza was a sort of servant maid and apprentice to an 
 older sister, who is a milliner. A young sailor visited 
 her, and she loved him; but the sister prevented a match. 
 This disappointment made the young maid insane. She 
 has left raving; but stupidity is now seated on her Grecian 
 face; and, in lieu of every other enjoyment, she is obliged 
 to content herself with taking snuff, from morning until 
 evening. Her eye is black, her hair dark, and the upper 
 part of her face is a bland mixture of white and red, over 
 which a faint smile flits, when her lover is spoken of; but 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 233 
 
 from the nose down, there is. nothing l)ut the yellow Scotch 
 oniament. 
 
 All she desires, is '• to go home; for then sonlebody 
 who came to see somebody, would come again to see 
 some of their folks; and she should see him; but he 
 would not come to see her." 
 
 Poor thing! Her sorrows should warn friends and 
 relatives not to interfere, when young persons are disposed 
 prudently \.o connect themselves with partners of their own 
 grade in society. The poor as well as the rich have liberty 
 to marry, and verily, it is no disgrace, to manifest by prac- 
 tice, that we accord with the divine opinion, which de- 
 cides, that "it is NOT good for man to be alone." Some 
 who are unequal in many items, may upon the whole be 
 equally yoked together. 
 
 " In such a world, so thorny, and where none 
 Find happiness unblighted; or, if found. 
 Without some thistly sorrow at its side, 
 It seenns the part of wisdom, and no sin 
 Ag-ainst the law of love, to measure lots. 
 With less distinguish'd than ourselves; that thus 
 We may with patience bear our mod'rate ills, 
 And sympathize with others, sufF'ring more." 
 
 Thus the exquisite poet Coivper sung, who loved in 
 early life one of humble circumstances, and possibly might 
 have been saved from long years of madness, had not the 
 pride of his relatives interfered with his partialities. 
 
 One less distinguish'd I could love, indeed; 
 But one whom less deserving I esteem'd, 
 Could never be the partner of my joys. 
 Could never share the half of my full soul. 
 Nor mitigate the pangs of mortal grief. 
 u 2 
 
234 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 DRUNKENNESS. 
 
 More than half of the persons whom I have seem insane, 
 were brought into that state by an intemperate use of ar- 
 dent spirits. It will be sufficient, under this head, to 
 state one instance. 
 
 J. P , an Englishman, a dresser of morocco- 
 leather, had been accustomed to malt-liquors in his native 
 country; but in America found ardent spirits cheap, and 
 much in fashion. He was industrious, and, it is said, 
 more skilful in his line of business than any other person 
 in this city. He was young, and when in company, was 
 prevailed on to imitate his companions in " drinking deep." 
 In consequence of one night's excess, he became raving 
 mad, and cbntinued in that state for a long time. When 
 the physician had succeeded in restoring his reason, he 
 taught the young man what to expect from future mis- 
 conduct, and solemnly warned Ixim to drink no more spi- 
 rits. Admonition and sad experience,' however, were 
 ineffectual. In three weeks after his first restoration, he 
 drank again to excess, and did not regain his reason in 
 less than eighteen months. When insane, he was full of 
 fear, and would start like a giddy horse, at almost every 
 object. A second time he was cured, and very wisely 
 took his departure from this country for the land of good 
 malt-liquor. 
 
 NOVELS. 
 
 Not for the sake of disquisition on romance, absurdity, 
 and the favourite books of many gentlemen, as well as 
 ladies of little thought, is this article introduced; but to 
 state a fact, which may prove a salutary warning to such 
 persons as cannot read the scriptures for an hour, but 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 235 
 
 having perused a novel all clay, carry it to bed for their 
 entertainment by night. 
 
 I have seen a young lady, w^hose eyes seem to flash fire, 
 and whose tongue is never silent. She sings songs with 
 enthusiasm, and can scarcely be dissuaded by any thing, 
 but a desire to give and receive compliments, from giving 
 twenty love-ditties in succession. Her animation in- 
 creases until the soft voice becomes a savage yell; and 
 the eye, which sparkled with delight, is suffused with an 
 unmeaning tear. The exertion creates an increased ac- 
 tion of the blood, unfavourable to recovery; but ** she 
 has been taught that she must display her powers; she 
 must gratify the gentlemen, she must please the ladies;'* 
 and it is neither in the power, nor commonly in the dis- 
 position, of her maniac companions, to make her quiet; 
 for mad persons rarely regard the fancies of one another. 
 I have often observed that those who are anxious for 
 conversation with rational visitants, will not deign to 
 speak to their miserable associates, because, forsooth, 
 ** they are crazy!" I have been led about by a crazy 
 young man of liberal education, amongst a host of luna- 
 tics, and he would tell me the peculiar turn of each one's 
 mind with much self-complacency. He would not speak 
 to them, for *' they are mad." 
 
 *' But what's the matter with you?" 
 
 ** Nothing at all, sir! My friends are crazy, and have 
 taken it into their heads, that I am out of my wits, and 
 so have confined me." Like this young man, superior to 
 the society of bedlamites, all the deranged females hear 
 the songster, but seem not to hear; for they despise her 
 affectation. 
 
 The cause of her derangement was an excessive attach' 
 
236 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 mcnt to novels. She read them incessantly, and rejoiced 
 at pleasures, which were never experienced^ or wept for 
 griefs, which were never endured. What once was called 
 sensibility in her, became nervous irritability; and like 
 Don Quixote, she believed the absurdest fiction to be 
 sober verity. A young gentleman of undoubted veracity 
 informed me, that he saw her reading a few days before 
 her senses quite forsook her, when she knew nothing that 
 happened in the same room where she was, unless some 
 one touched her with the hand, while he pronounced her 
 name with his lips. She sat in the room with her mother 
 and sister, but she heard not their conversation; a stran- 
 ger entered, but her whole attention was absorbed by the 
 history of some perfect lover and angelic heroine. Shortly 
 after, she began to roam the city, and could find shady 
 bowers, meandering rivulets, melodious groves, and cap- 
 tivating admirers, as easily as the knight of La Mancha 
 discovered giants and armies of opponents in chivalry. 
 
 IMPRUDENCE IN READING. 
 
 An apprentice to a baker was fond of reading; and 
 accustomed himself, from the want of a candle, to read 
 by the light emitted from a bed of coals, which had been 
 swept from the oven. In bending forward he gave the 
 blood in his system an unnatural tendency to the head, 
 and this, with the heat to which his brain was exposed, 
 induced delirium. After a considerable season of sing- 
 ing, dancing, and wild excess, he was reduced to compo- 
 sure. The powers of his mind have suifered material 
 injury, and his love of books is entirely destroyed. It 
 has happened to him, as it does to many, that since his 
 recovery, he is too fond of the maddening draught. This, 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 237 
 
 in many cases, is either a physical evil produced by the 
 previous treatment, or it results from the loss of that 
 mental discernment and caution which kept them from 
 too free indulgence before their faculties were disordered. 
 The subject of this article is about twenty years old, and 
 is in great danger of a relapse. A little imprudence may 
 cause a life of madness. 
 
 This instance should warn others, and especially chil- 
 dren, who, in a fit of industry, read by the light of a fire. 
 To read in the twilight, before it is sufficiently dark to re- 
 quire a lamp, is injurious; for those who have attempted 
 it must know, that it requires a painful effort, not only 
 of the optical organs, but of the mind. 
 
 The most studious and busy ought to devote some time 
 to reflection; and what part of the day is more suitable 
 than that, in which all nature seems putting off her robes 
 of light to retire for the night? In that hour, men should 
 think without notes, and pray without book. 
 
 SLAVERY. 
 
 " But ah! what wish can prosper, or what pray'r. 
 For merchants rich in cargoes of despair. 
 Who drive a loathsome traffic, gage and span. 
 And buy, the muscles and the bones of mani' 
 The tender ties of father, husband, friend, 
 All bonds of nature in that moment end; 
 And each endures, while yet he draws his breath, 
 A stroke, as fatal as the scythe of death." — Cowper. 
 
 That slavery should produce insanity, where the heart 
 is not dead to feeling, might naturally be expected. I 
 could state several cases under this head, but shall be 
 satisfied with two. 
 
 The first is that of a young African, who with his bro- 
 
238 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 ther was stolen a few years ago, and brought to the United 
 States, where both were sold to a cruel master. The one, 
 of which I write, made his escape from bondage, and 
 after great anxiety and privations, arrived in the city of 
 New York. Here he was young, friendless, and under 
 constant fear of being pursued by his owner. The dread 
 of being again reduced to hard servitude operated so 
 powerfully on his mind as to produce insanity. After a 
 confinement of many months, he has become tolerably 
 rational, loves to be trusted, and performs any confidential 
 duty with fidelity. He lives, however, in fear of slavery, 
 and the apprehension of it, at times, renders him almost 
 frantic. It is a singular fact, that during his derange- 
 ment, he would assist in reducing a white maniac to obe- 
 dience, but could never be persuaded to hold or bind a 
 frantic fellow of his own complexion. That he should 
 dislike all white men is very natural. 
 
 ** O, 'tis a godlike privilege to save! 
 
 And he that scorns it is himself a slave." 
 The second case must excite compassion for the maniac, 
 and abhorrence of the vice of her master. Last summer 
 her temporal sorrows were terminated; but should that 
 fashionable gentleman, who will recognise his own fea- 
 tures in the lines of this memoir, feel some shame for his 
 iniquity, when he finds his baseness made public, I shall 
 not repent the disclosure. 
 
 The young woman, of whom I speak, was of that mixed 
 complexion, which is very common in the southern sec- 
 tion of our country; and the property of a West Indian 
 planter. Her form was of surprising beauty, and, had 
 her face been white, few females could have eclipsed her 
 personal glory. Her master kept her for his mistress, 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 239 
 
 and paid her such kind attentions as a sensualist may, to 
 pamper his own insatiable concupiscence. Ignorant of 
 all religious principles as himself, she felt no compunc- 
 tion, but rather rejoiced in her exaltation above the lot of 
 common servants. The planter, not long since, remoY:ed 
 from his plantations to one of the United States, and 
 brought this female with him, that she might continue to 
 administer to his licentiousness. Here he found, however, 
 that the state of society, corrupt as it is, would not admit 
 of his familiarity with a coloured slave. There are 
 fashions in lust; and the honourable monster in society must 
 live as the fashions direct. Far to the south, fashion ad- 
 mits of a downright black for a concubine; but in the 
 north, he may openly maintain, without being excluded 
 from genteel company, as many prostitutes as he pleases, 
 provided no one of them be tinged with the dye of Ethiopia. 
 To conform to custom, the planter determined to main- 
 tain the morality of northern bloods, and therefore con- 
 cluded to put away his favourite. What to do he could 
 not easily decide, but finally he communicated to her his 
 intention of selling her. His neglect, and the fear of 
 slavery, under any other circumstances than those to 
 which she had been accustomed, produced raving, and 
 confirmed insanity. Vain were all attempts to make her 
 sane again. This was more than simple purchasing and 
 selling of human blood and bone. It was pollution, seduc- 
 tion, cruelty, and death. 
 
 '* But slav'ry ! — virtue dreads it as her grave- 
 
 Patience Itself is meanness in a slave. 
 
 Or, if the will and sov'reignty of God 
 
 Bid suffer it awhile, and kiss the rod. 
 
 Wait for the dawning of a brig^hter day, 
 
 And snap the chain the moment when you may. 
 
240 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 Nature imprints upon whate'er we see, 
 That has a heart and life in it Be free!" 
 
 INCONTINENCE. 
 
 Two instances of insanity which have come under my 
 observation, have been caused by the incontinence of hus- 
 bands. 
 
 An honest, sober, industrious Irish woman, with her 
 husband, came to this country, and, by selling the milk 
 of a few cows, obtained comfortable sustenance. They 
 lived harmoniously, and she was the mother of several 
 children. What could disturb their peace, and destroy 
 their union? A wicked woman, an artful, persuasive 
 wretch, gained the silly heart of the husband. He was 
 caught in the net of the enchantress, and the snare of the 
 fowler. With his children and the adulteress he fled from 
 his injured wife. Her heart had been bound up in the 
 welfare of her partner and children. Poor Rose I She 
 went mad. 
 
 It was no consolation to her, that she had a companion 
 of similar sorrows, in the person of a blooming young 
 woman, who married a son of Neptune. She was enter- 
 prising, and kept a boarding house to augment the funds 
 of the family. Her husband, the sailor, was kind, when 
 at home, and what was his conduct in foreign ports she 
 knew not. The immediate cause of the madness of this 
 female was a violation of the seventh commandment, by 
 her partner. A sister, younger than herself, was taken 
 into their family for protection; for she was an orphan; 
 and the young man attempted, with too fatal success, her 
 destruction. This dispersed the family, and from grief 
 of heart the married sister became insane. 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 241 
 
 What became of the younger sister? 
 
 Her seducer went to sea, and she was kept by a married 
 man, whose intercourse with her caused his own wife to 
 become insane. Here was line upon line, and curse upon 
 curse. Well saith the scriptures, " Keep thee from the evil 
 woman, from the flattery of the tongue of a strange wo- 
 man. — For byjmeans of a whorish woman a man is brought 
 to a piece of bread; and the adulteress will hunt for the 
 precious life." 
 
 Another instance of insanity is traced to the inconti- 
 nence of the guilty person. She was seduced, and went 
 to London to make merchandise of herself, with more 
 readiness than in any other place. Here she kept a 
 house of ill fame; and after having been in Newgate once, 
 stole a watch and handkerchief from a gentleman, who 
 spent the night in her abode. The next day she sold 
 them at a broker's shop, and was arrested. What a pity 
 it is, that any who voluntarily become the companions of 
 a raging lioness, should be protected by the civil arm! 
 Her visitant had his revenge. She says that she put her 
 fingers into his watch-pocket, and the trinket stuck to 
 them; for which the honourable judges sent her to New 
 South Wales. After remaining there for some time, she 
 found a gallant, who stole her away, and brought her to 
 New York. Here she lived with him, until her excessive 
 lewdness produced madness. She admits that she has 
 been " out of her head, in consequence of jealousy. '* Her 
 complaint has been of long continuance. For months she 
 has thought herself the blessed Trinity, all things past, 
 present, and to come, and at the same time, the devil. 
 These imaginations gave her inconceivable distress. Af- 
 ter she had told me all this, with great agony, and with 
 
 VOL. I. X 
 
242 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 Utter abhorrence of all who doubted the truth of her 
 assertions, she affirmed, that she proceeded from the Fa- 
 ther, but was at the same time the Father, the Son, and 
 the Holy Ghost; and because she would not marry the 
 Father, he was perpetually tormenting her. She con- 
 ceived that her flesh was incessantly torn from her, by 
 red-hot pincers, and was renewed again, to prepare her 
 for endless torments. At this time, she was, indeed, the 
 picture of a damned immortal. Her imaginations and 
 tortures change, but she is incurable. 
 
 Under this head I might describe, 
 
 A wretched female, who says that she was born in the 
 yellow house at Stonington; who thinks that devils are 
 filling her body with pins and skewers; who can tell the 
 history, name, and place of residence of every person 
 whom she sees, and who believes that all tilings are sup- 
 ported by her prayers: 
 
 A wretched female, who was once beautiful; who lived 
 in splendour; who has become more insensible than the 
 brutes; but who was once the mistress of that fallen vice- 
 president, whose hands still bear the stain of murdered 
 H : 
 
 A more miserable French girl; more miserable because 
 now rational, but unhappy, whom I have heard sing with 
 the sweetest voice, while she played a melting air upon 
 her guitar, with all the soul of melancholy, in the cool of 
 evening: 
 
 But I forbear. Sad victim of seduction! 
 
 " She sat beneath the birchen tree, 
 Her elbow resting on her knee; 
 She^ad withdrawn the fatal shaft, 
 And gaz'd on it, and feebly laugh'd." 
 
VISITS OF MKRCY. 243 
 
 Had it been possible, the feeling heart v/ould have 
 given assistance, and gladly would have restored perma- 
 nent tranquillity. 
 
 '• Stranger, it is in vain!' she cried. 
 
 " This hour of death has given me more 
 
 Of reason's power tlian years before; 
 
 For as these ebbing veins decay, 
 
 My frenzied visions fade away. 
 
 A helpless injured wretch I die!" — Scott. » 
 
 THE maniac's creed. 
 
 One, of whom I had heard, called to see me in a chamber 
 in which I was writing. I did not know his person, and 
 therefore when a stranger, respectable in appearance, of 
 light complexion and pleasant countenance, made his ap- 
 pearance, I thrust aside my paper, and formally gave him 
 a seat. He is a man of middle stature, of a short neck, 
 and full habit, who made me this visit. With all the de- 
 liberation of two philosophers we entered into conversa- 
 tion, and he soon made some observations, which induced 
 me to resume the pen, that I might render permanent the 
 maniac's creed. He was not displeased at it, but said, 
 " you are welcome to record the past, but I must object 
 to your penning any thing which I shall communicate 
 concerning the future." 
 
 '' Let me beg the favour of your name, then, sir,^' I said, 
 and with a placid face he began: 
 
 *' People call me Little John. This is a nickname, 
 which a friend in Ireland gave me, to go to bed by; and 
 which I have kept, to give to my many children, who 
 bear that name: but if the truth was known, I am Abel of 
 old, the son of Adam." 
 
 Here I demanded how this could be, when the scrip- 
 
244 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 tures inform us, that Cain killed Abel many thousand 
 years ago. 
 
 "Oh! the Bible has committed many such mistakes, 
 as I know by my own experience; for I am that identical 
 Abel, and his brother only apparently killed him. After 
 that affair, I appeared under the form of Joseph the son 
 of Jacob, but was Abel and Joseph too." 
 
 *' Did your brethren,*' I asked, '* sell you; and was you 
 actually sold in Egypt?" 
 
 " Oh I no! there the Bible is in an error again; for I was 
 only confined awhile in the iron mines in Scotland. Jo- 
 seph's brethren never did sell him into Egypt: I know 
 they did not, for I am that Joseph, and should not I 
 know?" 
 
 <* Joseph, however, died in Egypt." 
 " Ah! I appeared to die; but did not, for I was after- 
 wards Job, the patriarch. You see that I am a fat man, 
 with a short neck. That's the reason, sir, that Job in the 
 primer is always represented as a short,thick,little fellow." 
 " But tell me, where was you born?" 
 *' Why, I have had different bodily forms; but my pre- 
 sent body was born of a Dutch father, and a sort of a 
 Yankee mother, in Pennsylvania." 
 
 In like manner he lived in the old French war, and in 
 the late revolution, and perfectly remembers every event, 
 which any one can state from history. He is really not 
 more than forty years of age, and I told him so; but very 
 deliberately he went to work, to prove his assertions true, 
 by his own consciousness and memory. He has a wife 
 and several children. He had property, but was defraud- 
 ed by wicked neighbours, and this calamity, together with 
 his deism, reduced him to his present condition. I told 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 245 
 
 him I should like to know his religious sentiments, if he 
 was willing to state them, when he began with, 
 
 "I believe in God, but not in Jesus Christ. A Trinity 
 without him, if there is one, make quite enough persons. 
 The story about him came from the practice of a printer's 
 boy, who, with wooden cuts, used to print an image of 
 God, and represent a man seated at his right hand. This 
 was all idolatry. 
 
 " I believe that God lends men a part of himself to 
 work righteousness with; and for any man to go to church, 
 pay his footing there, and defraud nobody, is as good a 
 job as he can do for his soul." 
 
 Here I desired to know what he intended by paying his 
 footing in church. He said, " when a man steps upon 
 the floor of the church, he helps to dirty it, and if he 
 pays enough to enable the door-keeper to wash after him, 
 he pays his footing there; which I always did." Then 
 he proceeded in his creed. 
 
 *' I believe there is such a place as heaven, where all 
 these righteous persons will be happy. The wicked will 
 never get there. I believe there is no such place as hell, 
 although there might be; for *tis not impossible that such 
 a place should exist. Those who do not get to heaven? 
 will enter into the service of everlasting vanity. That 
 will be their punishment. 
 
 ''Finally, I believe that ray wife will go to heaven, be* 
 cause she has raised a likely family of children, and that's 
 all a woman has to do." 
 
 Thus ended his creed. He was serious through the 
 whole statement, and persisted in assuring me that he 
 should never die. These things he constantly affirms. 
 This creed is humbly submitted to the Arian and Soci- 
 X 2 
 
246 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 nian teachers in America. Relinquishing in favour of 
 this, their hostility to confessions in general, it is to be 
 expected that they will adopt it; and since they deliver 
 the doctrines of Little John, they will do him the honour, 
 so soon as their college shall be convened, to confer on 
 him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. 
 
 Alas! for the cradle of the sons of the Pilgrims! 
 
 the punishment of infidelity. 
 
 The subject of this last memoir was a native of Long- 
 Island, of reputable family, and of Presbyterian parent- 
 age. In childhood he was religiously educated, and in 
 youth was moral in his habits. When he became a young 
 mail, he read the productions of Voltaire, and other infidel 
 writers. Their sentiments were congenial to his feelings, 
 and taught him to reason against the authenticity and in- 
 spiration of the Holy Scriptures. In consequence of his 
 new illumination, he discovered that public worship was 
 useless, and of course absented himself from the place 
 where prayer is wont to be made. His sabbaths were 
 spent at his father's house, which was a tavern, in the 
 common business of the week; and all times were alike 
 to him. He was a punctual and prudent man in all pecu- 
 niary transactions, and as a neighbour, was highly re- 
 spected by the inhabitants of his native village. 
 
 When about thirty-five years of age, he was in the 
 habit of exporting produce to the West Indies; and went 
 in person, almost every summer, to carry on the traffic to 
 advantage. Previous to one of his voyages, he visited 
 
 a Mrs. C 11, at Rockaway, who is unusually pious. 
 
 He was frequently a visiter at the house of this good wo- 
 man; but on this visit, which was in the summer, he was 
 
vrSITS OF MERCY. 247 
 
 accompanied by a man, whose opinions corresponded with 
 his own. They did not hesitate to disclose their views 
 of the word of God, a future state, and divine things. 
 
 Mrs. C 11 said, concluding her argument with them, 
 
 that she hoped they would think differently before it was 
 too late. 
 
 *' It will never be too late," rejoined the Deists, *' for 
 any but cowards!" 
 
 In the autumn after this conversation, H n the Deist, 
 
 of whom I write, set sail with his produce for a southern 
 market. While he was absent, his unbelieving friend was 
 attacked with mortal disease, and shuddered at the thought 
 of meeting a holy God in judgment. He expressed his 
 great anxiety, and in agony of mind renounced his delu- 
 sions. He died. On the return of H n, the pious 
 
 woman made him acquainted with the circumstances of 
 his friend's departure from this life, with the desire of 
 impressing on his conscience the necessity of preparing 
 
 to appear before God, the Just One. All that H n 
 
 would say, however, was this: " I am sorry that my friend 
 died like a coward." 
 
 After this admonition, for the space of two years, the 
 mind of this unhappy man found little quietude. He dis- 
 puted, sometimes less against Christianity than formerly; 
 and sometimes more, with greater bitterness. On his 
 passage homeward in his last voyage, his soul was like 
 the troubled sea; and, when he was in the midst of his 
 marine path, a storm descended heavily upon the ship. 
 At a particular hour, during this tempest, he entertained 
 a persuasion, for which he could not account, that his 
 mother was dying; and even observed the time by his 
 watch when he thought that she gave up her spirit. It 
 
248 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 is not for me to account for such mental impressions as I 
 
 have no doubt H n actually felt.* Let me simply 
 
 state the fact. On his arrival at home he found his mo- 
 ther dead. He told his friends what had been his pre- 
 sentimentj and at v^^hat hour he thought she breathed her 
 last breath. It proved, so nearly as the family could re- 
 member, that she actually died on the same day, and in 
 the course of the same hour, which he designated. What 
 renders this event more remarkable is this, that the mo- 
 ther was taken away in perfect health. She was eating, 
 and some food entering the larynx, prevented any future 
 respiration. 
 
 The mind of H n, from this time, became habitu- 
 ally gloomy. He felt himself guilty and wretched, but 
 did not believe in Christ, the way to pardon, peace of 
 conscience, consolation in tribulation, and everlasting 
 felicity. The depression of his soul soon became so great, 
 that reason was banished from the seat of her dominion. 
 In a frantic state of mind he stabbed his niece, whom he 
 tenderly loved, because he loved her, and was apprehen- 
 
 • On the 9th of June, 1812, that classical scholar, that eloquent 
 orator, and that amiable man, the Rev. Joseph S. Buckminster, of 
 Boston, died. On this same day, the Rev. Dr. Buckminster, who had 
 not heard of his son's sickness, and who could not have had any com- 
 munication by human means, said to his wife, " my dear, Joseph is 
 dead." She replied that he could not know that, and his persuasion 
 must have arisen from his fond anxiety. He persisted in saying- that 
 he knew that his son had in that very hour expired. This proved to 
 have been the fact, and on the next day, the father, a most tender 
 father, and eminent minister of the Lord Jesus Christ, entered into 
 bis eternal rest. Many similar cases might be supported by indisputa- 
 ble evidence. Cannot he who formed the mind communicate directly 
 information, without the intervention of the senses^ 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 249 
 
 sive that she would starve. Three times he attempted to 
 hang himself, before he was brought to an asylum. Once 
 he had suspended himself in the barn, and was, at the 
 moment of suspension, discovered by one, who held him 
 up, until he was delivered from the rope. Once he hung 
 himself to a hook in the ceiling, but that having become 
 rusty, broke, and left him on the floor. At the third at- 
 tempt he could command only a handkerchief and the 
 upper corner of a door, from which he was protruded by 
 involuntary struggling, before suffocation took place. 
 Finally, he was brought to a benevolent Institution with 
 his throat cutj and was prevented, for a time, from intrud- 
 ing into the presence of his Judge. 
 
 After his wounds were perfectly healed, I conversed 
 with him on religious subjects, and he was perfectly ra- 
 tional, until the principles, to which he had assented, 
 were applied to his own case. 
 
 ''God is able and willing to save unto the uttermost 
 all who come unto him." 
 
 " That is unquestionable," he would answer. 
 
 " Then he is able and willing to save you." 
 
 "Oh I no! there are exceptions to all general rulesj 
 and God is a sovereign: he will not save me: for, I have 
 been such a sinner, that God is miserable while I am out 
 of misery. I ought to suffer. It is my duty to suffer for 
 ever." This was the train of his thought, and he ap- 
 peared to court misery, because it was his duty to suffer, 
 that the glory of God might be promoted. Indeed, if 
 there is any such thing as a desire to be damned for the 
 
 glory of God, as some writers assert, H n certainly 
 
 possessed that grace; but it was only in a state of insanity, 
 and indescribable misery. To perform his duty, he re- 
 
250 VISITS OF MERCY. 
 
 fused to shave, and for a long time endeavoured to starve 
 himself. Finally, he became quite resigned, and said he 
 would permit the Lord to punish him, as much as he 
 pleased, without increasing the torment by his own ab- 
 stemiousness and self-denying inventions. The black 
 man, who assisted in putting him into the shower bath, 
 he conceived to be the devil; and imagined that he was 
 to stand naked, and have cold drops of water fall on him, 
 through eternity. He lived in continual dread of being 
 everlastingly afflicted with vile distempers; and from day 
 to day, proclaimed that to-morrow he should be in hell. 
 
 When he was favoured with a partial respite from his 
 horrors, he would read the Bible, until he came to some- 
 thing which he did not understand. Then he would ask 
 explanations of his keeper, and if his remarks were unsatis- 
 factory, would cast down the book with indignation, be- 
 cause it was incomprehensible. 
 
 Sometimes H — n would indulge himself for a few mo- 
 ments in cheerful conversation, and then suddenly check 
 himself, and revert to his gloom, saying, ''but this is not 
 suitable for one who to-morrow must commence a perpe- 
 tuity of torment." 
 
 Not long previous to his death, a brother, wlio had 
 been confirmed by him in unbelief, came to pay him a visit. 
 The conversation was deeply interesting and solemn. 
 
 " Ben, you see the state I am now in; and you know 
 how I was brought to this condition. My present agonies 
 are unutterable, and what must damnation be to a guilty 
 
 sinner 
 
 ?" 
 
 ''O fudge! fudge, John! Cheer up; don't make a fool of 
 yourself! Why should you trouble yourself about religion, 
 and be gloomy?" 
 
VISITS OF MERCY. 251 
 
 ** Yes, Ben, I have made a fool of myself by reading 
 those accursed books, and despising the Bible. You can- 
 not laugh me out of my present condition. You know 
 that I am miserable now, and I tell you that my false ideas 
 of religion have produced all that suffering which you wit- 
 ness. Ben, I am in hell ! O be warned by me! You cannot 
 teach me any thing new against the Bible, for I taught 
 you all the infidelity which you know; but if this was my 
 last breath, I should say to you, "change your way of 
 thinking; for your present plan will not answer." 
 
 In this strain H — n conversed with his brother for more 
 than an hour; but after all, Ben departed, saying, " Oh I 
 poh! John, don't make a fool of yourself!" 
 
 One week before the death of H — n, a person in the 
 next room hung himself. Some conversation arose from 
 this case between H — n and his keeper. 
 
 Keeper. "A man must be in great agony, I think, and 
 must be very bold, to enter uncalled the eternal world." 
 
 H — n. *' It is not boldness, but cowardice, which tempts 
 men to destroy their own lives. Is not that man a coward, 
 who shrinks from the common lot of humanity? It is really 
 weakness, to kill one's self from dread of calamity, or 
 weight of temporal suffering. Men ought to bear life, and 
 not shrink from petty evils." 
 
 Such was his language, and no one supposed that he 
 retained a thought of performing the action which he 
 condemned. But his sufferings he deemed unlike those 
 of other men. His were the agonies of one already damn- 
 ed, who must suffer, or the eternal Judge would suffer. 
 He thought God was in misery so long as he was out of 
 hell. In an hour, therefore, when nothing was apprehend- 
 ed, he made fast his cravat to the grates o^ his window, 
 
I 
 
 252 VISITS OF MKRCY. 
 
 and while his back was against the wall, kneeled down, at 
 the same time bending his body forward, and strangled 
 himself. 
 
 " Like helpless sailors in a ship on fire, 
 He boldly plung'd to shun a fate more dire.* 
 
 But, alas! who, that being often reproved hardeneth 
 himself, can escape everlasting burnings? Must we not 
 say concerning many who imagine that they choose the 
 most favourable alternative, " in preferring death by your 
 own hands, to present anguish, you become secure of 
 hell?'* 
 
 **———— But his doom 
 
 Reserv'd him to more wrath; for now the thought 
 Both of lost happiness and lasting pain 
 Torments him ." 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 The mind of the reader has now been conducted through 
 many scenes of poverty, misery, and madness; and if some 
 statements should be deemed obnoxous to delicacy, the 
 writer makes this apology, that some persons may be 
 warned by the record of horrible facts, who would be un- 
 moved at common occurrences. There are many persons, 
 whose feelings are of a coarse texture, who require different 
 treatment from that which would be adapted to gentle 
 souls. He would benefit the rough as well as the mild; 
 and the former, even in polite circles, are most numerous. 
 The writer has sincerely attempted to avoid such allusions 
 as produce a blush, while his first aim was to deter those 
 thoughtless persons from vice, who are most liable to it; 
 
CONCLUSIO 
 
 and if any reader should be conscious that he is not too delicate 
 to commit gross iniquity, let him not be fastidious in his 
 judgment of the Journal. 
 
 The reader who has gained any useful information, may 
 congratulate himself, that he has been a witness of solemn 
 scenes, without experiencing the actual inconveniences of 
 one who has been personally concerned in them. It is 
 easier to visit the sick by proxy than in person; and it 
 must be more agreeable to gain the knowledge of some 
 facts, by reading than by actual observation. 
 
 Since he has ceased to record the occurrences of the day, 
 the usual services of the stated preacher have been per- 
 formed. Many new cases of conviction, and apparent 
 penitence, have presented themselves; and it is probable 
 that the Journal of one year, with few alterations, would 
 describe the moral state of the hospital and alms-house 
 for every year, in which the same religious services should 
 be performed. 
 
 To those who have contributed to the support of the 
 author, he presents his thanks; for they have made him 
 their almoner. // is his intention to perform in future^ so far 
 us it is possible^ the same sort of service to the hospital and alms- 
 house; but for many reasons, which he would not wish to 
 state, he takes this opportunity of announcing to his 
 friends and the public, that all subscriptions in his favour 
 shall be considered null from the 1st of January, 1812, and 
 ever after. The payment of what was previously due 
 will in no case be demanded. 
 
 He cannot refrain from expressing a firm hope, that 
 when God in his providence shall restore prosperity to 
 our country, if not before, something will be done to ren- 
 voi i. T 
 
Sft 
 
 254 cottcTusion* 
 
 der the maintainance of some successor in his office per- 
 manent. 
 
 The instability of temporal property should make those 
 lyho possess it willing to communicate when duty calls; 
 and beyond a question, this city, more distinguished for 
 religious liberality than any in our country, will not allow 
 posterity to say, " the public hospitals and alms-houses of 
 Europe, and of many cities in the United States, had their 
 chaplains; but in New-York two hundred persons died 
 yearly without the benefit of religious instruction." 
 
 In the course of two years some of the subscribers have 
 been reduced from affluence to poverty; and who may not 
 experience disappointment? Who may not be brought to 
 the necessity of living on public bounty? Who on his bed 
 of death may not be thankful for a visit from some public 
 preacher to the poorP 
 
 What father, or mother, can affirm, that the children 
 of the tenderest affections and most fond'parental anxiety, 
 may not act the part of prodigals? Let not fastidiousness 
 prevent guardians from giving timely warning. Let 
 thoughtless young people learn, that many of the misera- 
 bly afflicted beings with whom I have had ministerial inter- 
 course, were once as beautiful, as gay, as highly favoured, 
 as rich, and prudent as themselves. 
 
 The lessons which might be taught, and which would 
 very naturally result from the annals of the poor, are many. 
 I could wish that the cases of insanity, particularly, might 
 be rendered useful. That some application of that part 
 of the journal rnay be made, I shall conclude this little 
 volume, with 
 
THE MANIAC; 
 
 Ji Sermon, delivered at the Thursday Lecture, in Boston, on 
 the \Uh of September. Ji. D. 1809.* 
 
 Thou art beside thyself."- .Acts 2G. 24 
 
 The learned Paul was esteemed a maniac. 
 
 Not, however, while he trusted in pharisaical morality 
 for justification; not while he was exceedingly mad against 
 the humble, benevolent disciples of Jesus, and persecuted 
 men, women, and children, even unto strange cities; not 
 while he held the clothes of those who stoned Stephen, for 
 preaching Christ crucified, and with eager joy consented 
 to his death. 
 
 All this, in the opinion of his very liberal countrymen, 
 was wisdom, moderation, and Catholicism. 
 
 The charge of madness was brought against Paul for 
 delivering a sensible, interesting, and solemn address; 
 for manifesting that same spirit which induced Stephen 
 to promulgate Christianity, seal the truth with his blood, 
 pray for his enemies, and commit his departing soul to 
 the Lord Jesus, his omnipresent and almighty Saviour. 
 
 * Immediately after this Sermon was delivered, a copy of it for tlie 
 press was requested by many reverend gentlemen. The author's 
 late observations on maniacs have more completely convinced him 
 of the accuracy of his sentiments, which he then delivered; and he 
 now presents them with the discourse, in connexion with the preceding' 
 account of insane persons^ 
 
256 THE MANIAC, 
 
 The history connected with our text, and necessary to 
 the elucidation of it, is this. 
 
 Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ, having preached the 
 gospel to the Gentiles, and having received from many of 
 the newly established churches charitable contributions, 
 for the relief of the poor, went to Jerusalem, bearing 
 gifts for his own nation. The afflicted saints were fed, 
 clothed, and comforted, by the beneficence of the Gentile 
 converts. 
 
 But many of the Jews were enraged against Paul for 
 teaching, as they supposed, the converted heathen to for- 
 sake the law of Moses. The ancient ecclesiastical esta- 
 blishments they thought to be endangered by the founda- 
 tion of a new church.* Instigated by resentment, and a 
 zeal contrary to knowledge, the Scribes, Pharisees, and 
 friends of righteousness without faith in Christ, came 
 upon the apostle in the temple, and would have assassi- 
 nated him for heresy. They could make void the law of 
 God by their traditions, and tolerate every error, except 
 that of attachment to the doctrines and institutions of 
 Christianity. 
 
 A Roman garrison, which was stationed in a small cas- 
 tle, near the temple, quelled the tumult, and delivered 
 Paul from the tribunal of an enraged populace. 
 
 Unwilling, however, that the apostle should escape from 
 their tender mercies,, the multitude followed the soldiers, 
 who were conducting him to the castle, and exclaimed, 
 "away with him:" but he forgave and pitied them; he 
 obtained liberty of speech, and made his defence, in hope 
 of their conviction. Paul declared his manner of life, his 
 
 * Great opposition was made at this time against the erection of the 
 church in Park street, Boston. 
 
A SERMON. 257 
 
 early education, his conversion to the Christian religion, 
 and the reasons of his preaching the gospel to the Gen- 
 tiles. 
 
 So soon as he spake of the salvation of the heathen, the 
 Jews were wrought up to madness, and exclaimed with 
 the malevolence and fury of fiends, " Away with this fel- 
 low from the earth, for it is not fit that he should live." 
 
 On the next day, the chief captain of the Roman band, 
 presented Paul before the Sanhedrim, where he openly 
 avowed that .he preached the doctrines of the cross, and 
 especially the future resurrection of the dead. 
 
 This excited such a fierce contest between the two prin- 
 cipal Jewish sects, that Paul was in danger of being torn 
 asunder. The commander of the garrison again rescued 
 this undaunted minister of Jesus; and to preserve his life 
 against the attacks of a band of conspirators, sent him 
 under a strong guard to Caesarea. In that place, he stood 
 before the Roman governor, to defend himself against the 
 malicious accusations of his countrymen. 
 
 Before Felix he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, 
 and the future judgment, with such efficacy, that a proud, 
 adulterous ruler trembled. Was such reasoning a proof 
 of madness? 
 
 Festus succeeded Felix in office, and before this Roman 
 governor, associated with king Agrippa, the apostle Paul 
 espoused and vindicated Christ's cause. It was the cause 
 nearest his heart. It was his hope, his joy, his everlasting 
 salvation. He was not ashamed to express his hope; to 
 publish his confidence in the promises of God made to the 
 fathers concerning the Messiah; and to reveal his expec- 
 tation of a future resurrection, when Jesus shall judge the 
 
 Y 2 
 
258 THE MANIAC, 
 
 world in righteousness. He relates the history of his mi- 
 raculous conversion, and proves himself to have been com- 
 missioned by Jesus Christ, who personally appeared to 
 him, after his crucifixion, burial, re-animation, and ascen- 
 sion. 
 
 Hear the conclusion of his eloquent defence. 
 
 '* Whereupon, O king Agrippa, I was not disobedient 
 to the heavenly vision; but showed first unto them of Da- 
 mascus, and at Jerusalem, and throughout all the coasts 
 of Judea, and then to the Gentiles, that they should repent, 
 and turn to God, and do works meet for repentance. For 
 these causes the Jews caught me in the temple, and went 
 about to kill me. Having, however, obtained help of God, 
 I continue unto this day, witnessing both to small and 
 great, saying none other things than those which Moses 
 and the prophets did say should come; that Christ should 
 suffer, and that he should be the first which should rise 
 from the dead, and should show light unto the people, 
 and to the Gentiles.'* 
 
 What was irrational in this discourse.^ In what respect 
 did Paul conduct like a maniac? He had no sooner utter- 
 ed these words, than Festus exclaimed, with a loud voice, 
 '' Paul, thou art beside thyself: much learning doth make 
 thee mad." 
 
 Passion did not dictate the reply; " I am not mad, 
 most noble Festus; but speak forth the words of truth 
 and soberness." Judge ye, my hearers, whether Paul or 
 Festus was beside himself. 
 
 To king Agrippa, the apostle appealed for the truth of 
 what he said, in such persuasive and convincing language, 
 that the proud monarch, forgetting the prejudices of Juda- 
 ism, confessed to the prisoner, arraigned at his bar, '' al- 
 
A SERMON, 259 
 
 jnost thou per suadest me to he a Christian." He was al- 
 most inclined to renounce his regal honours, and take part 
 with the persecuted believers in Christ. Was such rea- 
 soning or such eloquence the indication of insanity? 
 
 Paul, my hearers, is not the only Christian who has 
 been charged with madness, for a firm and spirited ad- 
 herence to his religious principles^ nor is Festus the only 
 accuser. 
 
 In many places, it has become a common thing, for the 
 irreligious to say, that serious, prayerful, active believers 
 are beside themselves. If any one is anxious to know the 
 way of salvation, and mourns in spirit for his past trans- 
 gressions, he is pitied by the fashionable unbelievers, as 
 a " poor creature," bereft of his senses. If professing 
 Christians act like dying, accountable men, and speak, 
 either from the pulpit, or in the private circle, as sincere 
 persons, who believe religion to be a matter of infinite 
 consequence, there are many to ridicule them as *' wild 
 enthusiasts." Even in this protestant country, some have 
 ascended the sacred pulpit to proclaim, that every one 
 is beside himself, "is a fanatic, or a fool, or a babbler 
 employed by some self-created pope,"* who dares to assert, 
 that God was in Christ, manifest in the fleshy that Jesus 
 died, to save sinners by his blood; that sinners must be re- 
 newed in disposition by the Spirit of God ; that the finally 
 impenitent shall die accursed ; and that every believer 
 shall be *' kept, by the power of God, through faith unto 
 salvation."! So absurd is the language of the perfect 
 teacher, sent from God, now esteemed, that he is accounted 
 
 • In the audience was a clergyman, who had lately used this lan- 
 guage against all Calvinists. 
 t 1 Pet. i. 5. 
 
260 THE MANIAC, 
 
 mad, who preaches, that, " except a man be horn again* 
 he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." In short, 
 every professedly candid theologist, who contends for 
 liberty of conscience, which was never denied him, and 
 embraces all errors in his unbounded charity, excepting 
 the error of maintaining with christian zeal the pure doc- 
 trines of Christianity, will say to the spirit of every de- 
 parted Christian father, who opposed damning lies, "thou 
 wast beside thyself^'* and to every one who survives, to 
 preach Christ, with the spirit of the puritans, the martyrs, 
 the pious reformers, the apostles, ''thou art mad." 
 
 Paul was no maniac. It was Festus who was mad. 
 
 Those who scorn the lifeless morality of formalists, 
 and preach the peculiar doctrines of our holy religion; 
 who say from the heart, '* God forbid that I should glory 
 save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ," are not de- 
 prived of understanding. They neither ask the pity of 
 their opponents, nor deserve their contempt.f 
 
 * A Rev. Dr. was present, who had pronounced this expression too 
 indelicate for the pulpit. 
 
 f When this sentence was uttered, a Rev. Chauncean and Socinian 
 Universalist was seated in the same pulpit with the author. Not lon^ 
 previous to the delivery txf this discourse, this gentleman dined in 
 company with Dr. KoUock, a Calvinist, and with many Socinian teach- 
 ers. Dr. Kollock was too polite to commence a controversy at the 
 social board; but the Socinian gentlemen gave him many thrusts, 
 which he did not attempt to parry, because a Calvinist does not de- 
 light to draw his sword against those wlio attack him with bodkins. 
 Finally, the Universalist said, " Well, Dr. Kollock, 1 sincerely pity the 
 poor Calvinists: they have nothing to say for themselves." 
 
 On hearing this, the Calvinistic Doctor laid down his knife and fork, 
 saying, ** Mr. E n, the Calvinists neither ask your pit)', nor de- 
 serve your contempt. You had much better reserve them for your 
 
A SERMON. 261 
 
 Truth constrains me to retort the charge of insanity. 
 
 Those who lightly esteem the Rock of our salvation, who 
 say that without shedding of blood there is remission of 
 sins; who deny the Lord who bought them; who deride 
 the work of the Holy Ghost, and yet call themselves be- 
 lievers, and even Christian ministers, are chargeable with 
 lunacy. Every impenitent sinner is beside himself. 
 
 "It is an easy thing," you will say, ** for the preacher 
 to make bold assertions. It is of little avail to call hard 
 names." We grant this: and wish it to be considered as 
 equally true, when the defender of what we deem heresy 
 calls sound doctrine madness; and brands Paul, and the 
 greater part of Christ's ministers, " of whom the world, 
 was not worthy," with this label; " these are the bigots, 
 bedlamites, and off scouring of creation*'^ 
 
 You rationally demand proof that the impenitent are 
 beside themselves. Will you suffer me to introduce the 
 testimony of God as conclusive upon this subject? The 
 heart of the sons of men is full of evil, and madness is in their 
 heart while they live." This is said of every one who is 
 not '' created anew in Christ Jesus,'* Do you object to the 
 divine declaration, (for some have such impudence!) and 
 still say, " assertion is not evidence?" 
 
 Come then, self-styled friends of reason, and let us trace 
 an analogy between natural maniacs, and those who re- 
 nounce the Lord Jesus Christ. You profess that you will 
 listen to reason, while you dispute against the word of life, 
 
 I. Maniacs are much given to false imaginations; and 
 so are all the enemies of the cross. Beggars, deranged 
 in intellect, have thought themselves noblemen and kings, 
 
 friends." From this text Dr. Kollock proceeded to preach Christ to 
 the whole circle. 
 
262 THE MANIAC, 
 
 and in consequence of such false ideas, have imagined 
 that they ought to receive the respect due to noble per- 
 sonages. 
 
 Others, bereft of their senses, have conceived their 
 best friends to be enemies, or have thought themselves 
 poor, wretched, and disconsolate, while surrounded by 
 affluence, luxuries, and comforters. Some lunatics have 
 imagined that they could see spirits in the air, or converse 
 with the deadj others, that they were favourite prophets 
 of the Supreme Being; that they were ambassadors of 
 peace to the contending nations; that they were sent to 
 restore the Jews, or act as God's vicegerents on the earth. 
 Locke speaks of maniacs, who imagined that their bodies 
 were composed of glass, and who, in consequence of this 
 delusion, took unceasing pains to preserve their limbs 
 from accidents, common to that brittle substance. In 
 fine, lunatics generally imagine themselves and others to be, 
 what they are not. This is precisely the case with impeni- 
 tent, unbelieving, unrenewed sinners. They have false 
 imaginations concerning themselves, God, Christ, and 
 THE ADVERSARY of souls. They flatter themselves that 
 all these beings are^ what they are not. 
 
 Often the wicked imagine themselves the children of 
 God, while they are sons of perdition. They think to be 
 Christians, without having that belief of the heart, which 
 is essential to every other christian grace. 
 
 They are holy, and prepared for heaven, without re- 
 generation, sanctification, or one single exercise of holi- 
 ness. They imagine themselves in the way to everlasting 
 life, before they have been turned from darkness to light; 
 while their feet are in the broad path to destruction; while 
 their steps take hold on hell. They claim to be disciples 
 
A SERMO». 263 
 
 of Jesus, while they know not his voice, while they re- 
 fuse to accept him as their prophet to instruct, their priest 
 to atonej and their sovereign to rule and defend 5 while he 
 is constantly saying in his word, *' I acknowledge you not; 
 depart from me, ye workers of iniquity. " 
 
 God, they sometimes deem a being altogether like 
 themselves, and sometimes one as capricious, fond, stupid, 
 or inanimate, as their wicked hearts choose he should be. 
 
 Now, they imagine him too just to pardon those whom 
 they hate: and now, again, too good to punish themselves, 
 everlastingly, for any of their crimes. To suit their pre- 
 sent purpose, they consider him as arbitrary; and to 
 please another fancy, they will deny that he created and 
 governs the universe by predeterminate counsel. Jeho- 
 vah saith, "my counsel shall stand, and I will do all my 
 pleasure;*' but they reply, " decree is fate; why then find 
 fault? Thy counsel is contingency; or human agency is 
 constraint, and divine justice all a farce.*' They confess 
 that they have never experienced the washing of regene- 
 ration, but still imagine that God loves them, while they 
 are the abhorrence of his eyes ; while he is angry with 
 them every day, and proclaims himself a " God of ven- 
 geance," who will prove a '' consuming fire." 
 
 Concerning Christ, their imaginations are equally wild. 
 Some of the impenitent deem him an impostor, and deny- 
 ing the Holy Ghost to have had supernatural influence in 
 his conception, impiously call him the illegitimate child 
 of Mary. Others, of almost equal audacity, affirm, con- 
 trary to the word of God, that he was the actual descend- 
 ant of Joseph. Many consent that Jesus was a teacher 
 sent from God, but doubt his perfection. Others ima- 
 gine that he is the first of all creatures; and others, that 
 
264 THE MANIAC, 
 
 he is nothing more than a very good man. Some consider 
 him as destitute of a human soul, and think the divinity 
 was united to nothing but an animal form. Are not these 
 men beside themselves, when the holy Scriptures declare 
 Jesus Christ to be *'Me only begotten Son of God;'' conceived 
 by the Holy Ghost; the man who is the only Mediator, and 
 God with us, God over all, the only wise God, even our Father P 
 
 What seems to be a still stronger proof of insanity, is 
 the mutual coalescence between these opposers of the 
 true character of Christ. They agree to receive each 
 other as the friends of Jesus, and entertain complacency 
 in the heresy of every co-partner. They deem it passing 
 strange, that those who worship and serve Christ as God, 
 cannot, consistently with their own sentiments, become 
 members of their community, tolerate rebellion against 
 the Lord of lords, and defend error with the zeal due 
 only to truth. Saith not the rule of our faith and prac- 
 tice, " though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any 
 other gospel unto you than that which we have preached 
 unto you, let him be accursed?" "For many deceivers 
 are entered into the world, who confess not that Jesus 
 
 Christ is come in the flesh. Whosoever transgresseth, 
 
 and abideth not in the doctrine of Christ, hath not God. 
 He that abideth in the doctrine of Christ, he hath both 
 the Father and the Son. If there come any unto you, and 
 bring not this doctrine, receive him not into your house, 
 neither bid him God speed: for he that biddeth him God 
 speed, is partaker of his evil deeds." What person, who 
 religiously receives these words of God, can be expected, 
 by any but one beside himself, to have fellowship with 
 the enemies of the cross of Christ? 
 
 Concerning him, who goeth about like a roaring lion, seek- 
 
A SERMON. 265 
 
 ing whom he may devour, unbelievers entertain false ima- 
 ginations. By some wonderful magic they have deprived 
 satan of his disposition and power to do Injury. The 
 murderer, from the beginning, has become so much the 
 friend of souls, that he is willing to go into banishment: 
 and of course, these deluded persons have ordered the 
 name of devil to be expunged from the holy Scriptures. 
 Now, believers are not to resist the devil, because he has 
 become a phantom: and should Paul again attempt to de- 
 liver an excommunicated person to satan, that he might 
 learn not to blaspheme, he would deliver him to a large 
 black picture in the child's " hieroglyphical biblej" for 
 other devils, according to modern Socinianism, exist not. 
 
 Such are the false imaginations of maniacs! Alas! 
 such are the false imaginations of impenitent sinners! 
 
 II. Maniacs often argue sagaciously from false princi- 
 ples; and so do the enemies of Christianity. Falsehood 
 is often the foundation of ingenious speculation. The 
 lunatic receives it for truth that he is an emperor, and 
 then reasons very correctly, that you ought to pay him 
 the homage due to imperial dignity. Were his first prin- 
 ciple true, his inference would be just. The deluded per- 
 son, who thought himself glass, argued rationally, that 
 great care was necessary to prevent his being dashed into 
 pieces. In the same manner the impenitent evince, that 
 they are beside themselves. 
 
 " Humanity is not depraved," say they, and of course 
 infer, that regeneration is an idle dream; that the un- 
 sanctified children of wrath, have by nature very evangeli- 
 cal minds,* and are prepared for the enjoyment of a holy 
 
 • A young clergyman was present, who pretends that he was once 
 
 VOL. I. Z 
 
266 THE MANIAC, 
 
 God in heaven. All impenitent sinners do not reason 
 from the same principles; but like natural maniacs, each 
 has his peculiar chain of argumentation; each, his own 
 rein of madness. One takes it for granted, that the ever- 
 lasting punishment of the wicked is inconsistent with the 
 divine attributes; and consequently deduces this inference, 
 that no one shall depart accursed, to suffer the vengeance 
 of eternal fire. It should first be proved that God is too 
 good to be just; too kind to execute his awful threaten- 
 ings; and so merciful, that he cannot pardon one rebel, 
 without teaching, that the law never had a penalty, and 
 that *' hell's broad path leads round to heaven's door.*'t 
 
 A second person, who is beside himself, receives it as 
 an established truth, that God has never made a revela- 
 tion to man; and therefore infers, that all the promises, 
 denunciations, precepts, parables and histories of the 
 Bible, constitute *'a tale of other times." 
 
 A third madman is confident, that there is no future 
 state of existence, and hence argues that he has notlidng 
 to hope, nothing to fear, beyond the grave. He is rational 
 in refusing to ask, "what shall I do to be saved?" He 
 exclaims, " let me enjoy myself to-day; to-morrow I die: 
 and let eternity take care of itself." 
 
 Here is the mischief. Sinners attempt to suspend a 
 chain from heaven, without making fast the first link; to 
 build a temple of happiness, without laying the founda- 
 tion; to enter the celestial abodes, without passing through 
 the only possible avenue. Christ is the door: but with 
 frantic joy, they are climbing up some other way. 
 
 a Calvinlst. He was asked if his wife was hopefully pious, and his 
 answer was, " why, she always had by nature a very evangelical mind." 
 t Triumph of Infidelity. 
 
A SERMON. 267 
 
 A fourth says, "the way of transgressors is not hard. 
 It will not lead to misery.** It follows, then, that he may 
 safely persevere in enmity to God. Every enemy of the 
 cross of Christ is arguing, in some manner, from false 
 principles, to convince himself, that he is in a state of 
 peace, safety, and felicity. He deceives himself. He 
 loves the delusion. Is not this person beside himself? 
 
 HI. Maniacs are often supremely attached to trifles, 
 and so are all unbelievers. You, who have been person- 
 ally acquainted with the unhappy beings, who are derang- 
 ed in mind, may have heard them rant for hours, about 
 some little injury which had being only in imagination: 
 or you may have seen them weary themselves to catch 
 what existed only in a madman*s eye. Early and late 
 each lunatic thinks and speaks upon the favourite theme; 
 when it is of no importance. Many of these people fill 
 their abodes with feathers, sticks, straws, and bones, and 
 dote upon them, as an antiquary upon his cabinet of cu- 
 riosities, or a miser upon his treasures. 
 
 So frantic are they, in their attachment to trifles, that 
 they deny themselves necessary food to acquire them. 
 
 The Christian poet has admirably described one of 
 these wretched beings. 
 
 " And now she roams 
 
 The dreary waste; there spends the livelong day, 
 And there, unless when charity forbids, 
 The livelong night/' 
 
 ** She begs an idle pin of all she meets, 
 And hoards them in her sleeve; but needful food, 
 Though press'd with hunger oft, or comelier clothes, 
 Though pinch'd with cold, asks never." 
 
 COWPKR, 
 
268 THE MANIAC, 
 
 In like manner, the wicked are madly fond of pebble 
 stones and shells. They love dress, houses, gardens, 
 equipages, entertainments, and the fashionable amuse- 
 ments of the metropolis, more than the immortal soiri. 
 They ask an " idle pin," a little temporal pleasure, of all 
 they meet; but never pray, " liord, give us everlasting 
 life." "Who will show us any worldly good?" is their 
 cry; and not this, *' Lord, lift upon us the light of thy 
 countenance." 
 
 Impenitent sinners! your daily conversation and con- 
 duct prove you guilty of this delirium. You rave against 
 the cheat, who defrauds you of a shilling; but feel no in- 
 dignation against that aggregate of iniquity, which made 
 it necessary for the Son of God to die. The Scriptures 
 demand, " oughtnot Christ to have suffered these things;" 
 " to have shed his blood for the remission of sins?" and 
 you reply, "we see in man nothing exceedingly sinful; 
 and instead of condemning, we pity his imperfections, inci- 
 dental to humanity. We trust a little discipline will re- 
 claim and rectify him: and prepare him to enjoy a holy 
 heaven, a holy God!" Should anyone touch your pro- 
 perty, or lift up his little finger against your fame, you 
 would swell with resentment; but let any one sooth your 
 disturbed conscience by bland expressions, or by some 
 pleasingillusionbeguileyouof heaven, and with a lunatic's 
 good nature, you bless the destroying, the accursed com- 
 panion. You love to have your attention fixed to your 
 favourite toys: you smile, if any one counts the number 
 of your brass pins, or admires the elegance of your man- 
 sion: but if any faithful friend urges you to be clothed 
 with Christ's righteousness; to be fed with the bread of 
 life, instead of starving on husks; to be comforted with 
 
A SERMON. 269 
 
 the consolations of the Holy Spirit, you turn away in 
 disdain, or gnash your teeth in resentment. You shun 
 him who would bring you to your senses; and court his 
 society, who cherishes all your hopes of sublunary bliss. 
 Your affections have never been set on. heavenly things. 
 They are given to phantoms. You retire to rest with a 
 novel for your prayer-book, or awake and consult your 
 leger as the oracle of God. 
 
 IV. Maniacs are commonly their own worst enemies; 
 and so are all the opposers of Christianity. You know, 
 my hearers, that the delirious even hang, or starve, or 
 drown themselves. What produces his agony who is foam- 
 ing with madness? His own imagination. Look at the de- 
 moniac among the tombs. Who injured his body in this 
 dreadful manner.^ He mangled his own flesh with stones. 
 
 Who, now, occasions the sinner's destruction? It is not 
 God; for he says, '' as I live, I have no pleasure in the 
 death of the sinner." It is not the adversary; for he can 
 only tempt and accuse. He has not the power of compul- 
 sion. '* O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself." *' They 
 that observe lying vanities forsake their own mercy." 
 
 Every one who dies in unbelief, brings ruin upon his 
 own head. Who causes this starving wretch's hunger? 
 A feast is made ready: he is solicited to attend: but he 
 refuses: he had rather perish, than live upon the clemency 
 of God. Who exposes the bedlamite to the chill blasts of 
 winter? He will not receive clothing from the wardrobe 
 of heaven. Who consigns the ungodly to misery? They 
 are madly bent on destruction. O sinner, thou art beside 
 thyself. 
 
 V. Maniacs are insensible to imminent danger; and so 
 are the enemies of the cross of Christ. They will laugh 
 
270 THE MANIAC, 
 
 while exposed to shipwreck, sleep on a precipice, or cast 
 stones at the lightnings of Jehovah. When the wicked 
 are warned, they mock at peril. While the deluge hangs 
 over them, they insult the preacher of righteousness. 
 When the Lord cometh out of his place, to shake terribly 
 the earth, they are unmoved. Although it is said, ^' if any 
 man love not our Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema, 
 maranatha," let him be consigned to eternal perdition, 
 when the Lord shall come to judgment, yet they have no 
 apprehension of danger. Some are so hardy as to defy 
 the Lord, saying," who is the Almighty, that we should fear 
 him; or his Son, that we should adore him?" 
 
 The sinner is at sea, in a leaky bark. Over him the 
 clouds are full of Sinai's thunder. The storm begins to 
 descend; but he has no anxiety. One would think he had 
 Almighty power to inspire him with such confidence. He 
 seems to slumber, in full persuasion that he shall awake 
 in season, command the winds and waves to obey him, and 
 instantly arrive at the desired haven. He neither examines 
 his chart, nor puts forth an oar, but is tossed hither and 
 thither by every wind of doctrine; is borne aloft on the 
 surges which challenge the tempest; and then sinks down 
 to the sides of the pit. In such a situation he slumbers, or 
 awakes to sing, 
 
 " Of love's soft anguish, and of grief supreme j*'* 
 imagines that the sea of life is calm, and believes himself 
 secure of a protracted time for repentance, because " his 
 bosom," sportive, dances " to nature's boundless charms." 
 
 He feels secure; but when mercy no longer pleads for- 
 bear, he will sink into the bottomless abyss, and find that 
 vengeance belongs to the character of a benevolent Deity. 
 • Falconer. 
 
A SERMON. 271 
 
 Lastly. Maniacs cannot be convinced that they are be- 
 side themselves. Neither can the impenitent. Indeed, 
 nothing enrages a madman more, than to tell him serious- 
 ly, and affectionately, that he is under the guidance of a 
 distempered mind. In a rage too, impenitent sinners 
 accuse the ministers, people, and word of God, of mad- 
 ness. Who was he that said, "Because I tell you the 
 truth, ye believe me not?" It was the God who dwelt 
 among us. " So then I have become your enemy," ex- 
 claimed an apostle, "because I tell you the truth!"* We 
 need no other evidence that '^ madness is in their heart while 
 they live'* Of all sin, the pious Newton has well said, 
 
 ** 'Tis palsy, plague, and fever. 
 And madness all combin'd; 
 And none but a believer 
 The least relief can find." 
 
 To those, who confess the insanity of sin and the mad- 
 ness of unbelief, God has given the spirit of power ^ andoflove^ 
 and OF A SOUND mind. Other persons are prevented by 
 their delirium of sin, from perceiving that they are poor, 
 miserable, blind and naked ; and that they take the most 
 effectual measures to exclude relief. 
 
 Let the sons of pleasure, the men of science, the fair, 
 the honourable, and the mighty of this world, consider 
 these things. Especially let those who profess to preach 
 Christ, and preach him not, reflect that of all insane per- 
 sons they are the most dangerous and culpable. To be a 
 mad teacher of madmen, an insane physician of lunatics, 
 
 a blind leader of the blind " O my soul, come not 
 
 thou into their secret ; unto their assembly, mine honour, 
 be not thou united!" 
 
 * Macknight's Translation. 
 
272 THE MANIAC, A SERMON. 
 
 It should be had in everlasting remembrance, that con- 
 cerning some it is written, because they receive not the 
 love of the truth, " for this cause God shall send them strong 
 delusion, that they should believe a lie: that they all might 
 be damned w^ho believed not the truth, but had pleasure 
 in unrighteousness.'* 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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