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 THE 
 
 JOURNAL 
 
 OP 
 
 THE STATED PREACHER 
 
 TO THE 
 
 HOSPITAL AND ALMSHOUSE, 
 
 IN 
 
 THE CITY OF NEW-YORK, 
 
 FOR THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 
 
 18 11. 
 
 Ez- 
 
 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 
 
 : my v*w )Dw T\2) ;r* to 1 nin' 
 NEW-YORK : 
 
 .PUBLISHED BY WHITING AND WATSON, 
 
 NO. 96, BROADWAY. 
 
 J. Seymour, printer. 
 
 1812, 
 
District of New-York, ss. 
 
 BE ST REMEMBERED, that on the twenty-lifih day of August, in the 
 thirty-seventh year of the independence of the United States of America, 
 Ezra Sales Ely, of the said district, hath deposited in this office the lit!- of a 
 book, the right whereof he claims as author, in the words and figures following, 
 To wit: 
 
 The Journal of the Stated Preacher to the Hospital and Almshouse, in tftc city 
 ofHew-Tork,foi'theyearofour Lord 1811. 
 
 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 visk with the Son of God. 
 
 : in? v :y iorv riai \va id* nnv 
 
 In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, entitled u 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 
 time therein mentioned," And also to an Acr, entitled " An Act, supplemen- 
 tary to an Act, entitled an Act for the encouragement ot Lea- nirig, by secur- 
 ing the copies of maps, charts, and books 10 the authors and proprietors of 
 such copies, during the times therein mentioned, ar»d extending the benefit* 
 thereof to the arts of designing, engravinr, and etching historical and other 
 prints." 
 
 CHARLES CLINTON, Clerk of the District cfNeivTork. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The author of the following- Journal, u ; 
 now happy to gratify many of his friend*, 
 who have long* urged the publication 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 prevented 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 sym- 
 pathised 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 unchristian. The author 
 thanks Dr. Milledoler for his favourable sen- 
 timents and personal friendship. His grate- 
 fill approbation, however, should not meet 
 
the public eye, were it not for the hope, that 
 the Doctor's address will prove instrumental 
 in founding a society for the support of the 
 Gospel in the Hospital and Almshouse, 
 which shall be as lasting, as those institutions. 
 The writer may express this hope, without 
 the imputation of selfishness ; for, having 
 performed *) a tour of duty," he would wish 
 to retire, and give place to some more valiant 
 soldier 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 office, as would give many young 
 ministers the opportunity of becoming fami- 
 liar with wretchedness and death. "Itisgood 
 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 preach- 
 ed to the poor within our cities — to the pa- 
 gans who sit in the darkness of death — to 
 " every creature." 
 
FREFATOHY ADDRESS, 
 
 To the Members of the Presbyterian and 
 Reformed Dutch Churches, in the city of 
 New York, 
 
 BY PHILIP MILLEBOLER, D. IX, 
 
 Dear Brethren, 
 
 IT is well known to many of you, that 
 the Almshouse and Hospital of this city 
 were, previously to the year 1810, in a very 
 destitute situation, in point of Gospel privi- 
 leges. Whilst unremitting care has been 
 exercised in those important institutions, for 
 preserving* the lives and health of their in- 
 habitants, the immortal part, uncherished and 
 uncultivated, has been suffered 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 sub- 
 ject, by the Rev. Ezra Stiles Ely, a member 
 of the Presbytery of New- York. In June, 
 1810, he began to preach in the Almshouse,, 
 and in the month of October, of the same? 
 year, in the Hospital. In November follow- 
 ing, a form of subscription was drafted, and 
 subscribed by a number of individuals, who 
 were principally of the Presbyterian and 
 Dutch communion of this city, for the main^ 
 tenance of the Gospel in those places. Mr 
 Ely was retained as their Stated Preacher- 
 1* 
 
and lias laboured in the charge assigned him, 
 from that time to the present, with approved 
 ability, and indefatigable zeal. 
 
 Of the nature and success of his labours, 
 some estimate may be formed from the in- 
 teresting 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 importance of missionary la- 
 bour, in those asylums of wretchedness 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 designs. 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 de- 
 pendant on a precarious subscription, which 
 he has now entirely relinquished, his receipts 
 have never exceeded half the necessary sup- 
 port of a single man. For want of proper 
 arrangements at the outset, he has been un- 
 der the disagreeable necessity of being his 
 own solicitor, accountant, and collector. 
 Having commenced his labours under a plan 
 radically defective, he has submitted to all 
 jhe evils growing out of it; and for two 
 
years has faithfully preached Jesus Christ 
 and him crucified, in the Almshouse, 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 aban- 
 doned, or even suspended, for want of pecu- 
 niary 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 aban- 
 doned. 
 
 That efficient measures should be taken 
 for the continuance of the Gospel in those 
 institutions, will appear, 
 
 1st. From the importance of the object. 
 
 By the last report of the Superintendent of 
 the Almshouse, there were 1409 persons de- 
 pendant on that institution. Of this number 
 it is supposed that 800 at least are capable 
 of receiving religious instruction. The Hos- 
 pital admits not less than a thousand differ- 
 ent patients in the course of each year ; some 
 of these remain a few weeks, and others 
 several, months. Two hundred persons, on 
 an average, annually die in the two institu- 
 tions. 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 efforts of medical skill. Here 
 many children need instruction, who, without 
 it, might become the future pests of society, 
 Here are pious souls, oppressed with pover- 
 
a 
 
 » 
 
 ty 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 in- 
 struction should be communicated, and one 
 more effort made to snatch them from perdi- 
 tion. Such an attempt is intercepting them 
 on the very borders of destruction. What- 
 ever may be the issue, it is interesting, it is 
 rational, it is godlike. That men are often 
 called to repentance by afflictive dispensa- 
 tions 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 uninfluenced by the 
 Gospel. There are such characters, we know ; 
 but on the other hand, are there not many 
 who will have eternal cause to rejoice in 
 afflictions, sanctified by grace to their salva- 
 tion ? 
 
 To extend the glad tidings of salvation, is 
 a great christian duty ; and the true disci- 
 ples of Jesus every where acknowledge 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 
 ki> But shall we neglect missionary ground 
 
9 
 
 under our eye, and at cur very doors ? Whilst 
 we explore tar distant region 
 labour, shall we pass oter r own fields, 
 which are whitening- to the harvest? The 
 wisdom of such conduct is exceedingly ques- 
 tionable. The soul of a pauper in he 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 un- 
 cultivated, or on gathered. 
 
 To urge the necessity of immediate atten- 
 tion to this subject, I would observe, 
 
 2dly. That if any thing is done, it must 
 be done by individuals. 
 
 Benefactions of a public or private nature, 
 may hereafter forward this work of charity ; 
 but the foundation of it must be laid in in- 
 dividual 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 instructor in the Alms- 
 house. If they have not, it cannot be ex- 
 pected ; if they have, they may wish to avoid 
 the charge of partiality to a particular de- 
 nomination. 
 
 Jealousy between different denominations, 
 in a case like 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 institutions, as soon as possible. We 
 acknowledge it as a just principle, that pri- 
 vileges extended to one denomination, should 
 
10 
 
 be equally allowed to others ; and that favours 
 conferred on one, should be common to all. 
 As we, therefore, 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 objection, 
 if made, is founded in ignorance of the situ- 
 ation of the clergy, as well as of the duties 
 to be performed by such a missionary. The 
 writer of this address is persuaded that the 
 ministers of the Gospel in this 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 instan- 
 ces more than enough, to occupy their whole 
 time and attention. Such of the laity as are 
 best acquainted with ecclesiastical affairs, 
 know this statement to be correct. But again, 
 if they are to preach in those institutions, 
 they ought to officiate on the sabbath, and 
 must consequently leave their own churches 
 un supplied. 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 ac- 
 quaintance 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 
 jiilo the festering wounds of the broken heart- 
 
H 
 
 etl mourner, to counsel and pray with the 
 dying', and daily to preach from ward to 
 ward, and from conch 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 ac- 
 complished, is not, and cannot be, attained. 
 
 Can all these duties be performed by the 
 stationed pastors of this city ? No, it is im- 
 possible ; they may mourn over the omission, 
 but they cannot supply it. Abundantly fur- 
 nished with the means of grace for ourselves, 
 brethren, are we not called by every consi- 
 deration that can influence the human mind, 
 Jo extend these blessings to the poor, the 
 destitute, and the friendless? It is charac- 
 teristical 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 answer it to our God ? " Freely 
 ye have received, freely give," was a com- 
 mand of Christ to his disciples; a command 
 which will apply to us, in relation to this sub- 
 ject, with peculiar emphasis. The members 
 of Christ may suffer, but they are his mem- 
 bers still ; and let us not forget that what is 
 done for the least of these his brethren in 
 tribulation, he will graciously consider as 
 done unto himself. 
 
 You will undoubtedly pardon the author of 
 this address, brethren, for the liberty he has 
 taken. He has feit himself constrained to 
 be urgent on this subject. The object held 
 
12 
 
 up to your view, he considers of incalcula- 
 ble importance, 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 
 troublous times, but shall we therefore cease 
 to live actively for Christ ? If what has been 
 said, shall have a tendency to draw your at- 
 tention to this subject, he will think it an 
 honour to associate with such as may wish 
 to carry it into effect. And if he can be in 
 any wise instrumental in fixing the Gospel 
 on a permanent foundation in those institu- 
 tions, he will consider it as one of the hap- 
 piest 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-Yorh, Sept. 16th, 1812. 
 
THE 
 
 JOURNAL, 
 
 January 1st, A. D. 1811. 
 
 st _— He that finds 
 
 44 One drop of Heav'n's sweet mercy in his cup, 
 44 Can dig, beg, rot, and perish, well content, 
 " So he may wrap himself in honest rags, 
 " At his last gasp." Cowper. 
 
 Since the first of October last, the patients in the 
 Hospital 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 convictions and 
 anxieties, have excited a deep interest ia my heart ; 
 but since I did not then write a description of their 
 last glimmerings, I shall not now attempt it. Ir fu- 
 ture, some of the most interesting cases whicl pre- 
 sent themselves shall be recorded in " the short, and 
 simple annals of the poor." 
 
 Previous to this date, I have delivered twoniy- 
 three discourses in the Almshouse. The poor in 
 this Institution throng the places of public worship : 
 and rarely have I had the pleasure of witnessing, ra 
 
14 
 
 any audience, more lively gratitude for the glorious 
 Gospel of the grace of God. Most assemblies, from 
 the frequency of preaching, and from the circum- 
 stance of their supporting the ministry, appear to 
 consider the messages of grace a matter of course; 
 and ministers of reconciliation, servants sold to dis- 
 charge 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 
 claim, and for which many of them bless the grace 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 In some instances, I am constrained to believe, 
 that the ministration of the word has been accompa- 
 nied by a divine and saving influence. Some have 
 been convinced of sin; some aged believers com- 
 forted ; 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 ex- 
 claim, " O Lord Jesus ! lama vile sinner : I de- 
 serve 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 expressions on her 
 lips, she died. 
 
 A young man of about twenty-seven years of 
 age, was visited in his last sickness. When I ap- 
 proached him, he was convulsed with coughing, which 
 
15 
 
 wa3 excited in part 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 re- 
 cover, could he be delivered from that tormenting 
 smoke. His lungs, however, were affected by some- 
 thing worse than the fumes of tobacco. At my re- 
 proof, 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 withering 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 himself to 
 death for the redemption of enemies. He died for 
 sinners ; for such sinners as we are ; and with a de- 
 sire that 3 ou should be saved by him, I come to 
 speak of Jesus. But I would not impose my dis- 
 course upon you." He turned his face to me again, 
 but would not admit that he might soon die. I at- 
 tempted to convince him of sin, and of the right- 
 eousness which is in Christ, He requested me to 
 pray for him ; and after prayer was offered, I had 
 the satisfaction, siveet 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 sinner I O I am a sinner !" This 
 he repeated three times, with such peculiarity of 
 
16 
 
 emphasis, as to convince all present, that the confes- 
 sion had never before escaped from his lips. I saw 
 him no more ; for soon after this interview he de- 
 parted from the earth. 
 
 The last case which I shall state, is that of an 
 aged woman, who for three or four weeks, while at- 
 tending to the concerns of her own soul, was in 
 wretchedness, little inferior to that of despair. When 
 she heard the word of God, she trembled like a cri- 
 minal 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 per- 
 sonally 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 discourse I had selected a 
 subject, and was prepared to speak, but did not com- 
 mit even the text to paper. While on my way to 
 the place of worship, I reviewed my plan, and thought 
 v I retained it perfectly. But in the prayer before 
 sermon, the words of the apostle, recorded in Ro- 
 mans 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 
 ^ r as a sufficient intimation of my duty ? and by divine 
 
17 
 
 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 woman 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 
 them with tears. She would have spoken, but seem- 
 ed unable. " This woman," I said, turning to a 
 judicious friend, who had accompanied me to judge 
 of the expediency 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 ex- 
 claimed, 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 
 begin again to have peace with God, through our 
 Lord Jesus Christ." " Bo you perceive," it was 
 asked, " that God can be just in justifying the un- 
 godly, who believe ; and is Christ precious to you V' 
 She replied, " I think Christ has now got the highest 
 place in my heart, and, O, I pray Cot, he would aye 
 keep him there !" My companion, as well as myself, 
 was rendered speechless, by the tenderness of her 
 love to Jesus ; and we passed away, under 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 grave !'*' 
 
 Young. 
 THIS afternoon, a dying man at the Hospital 
 2 * 
 
18 
 
 sent a request to see me. I went immediately ; but 
 it was too late for a spiritual physician to learn any 
 of the peculiar symptoms of his spiritual malady. 
 With all his exertions he could not speak. In such 
 a case, what could be done, but make a general appli- 
 cation of the Balm of Gilead 1 I addressed him as a 
 sinner, in the last hour of life, with this instigation 
 to faithfulness ; " he will very soon give an account 
 of this Interview to God." He signified that he 
 wished me to pray. After I had complied with his 
 desire, I turned my attention to eight or ten misera- 
 ble companions 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 6th. 
 
 " 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. 
 
 V How dreadful that deliberate surprise ! 
 
 ■• Be wise to-day ; 'tis madness to defer." 
 
 Young. 
 IN the morning of this day, the Rev. Mr. A. 
 preached for me in the Hospital ; and after divine 
 Service I visited several rooms, where were patients 
 on the border of the grave. In the afternoon I 
 preached in the Almshouse, There a woman of 
 
19 
 
 middle age lay before me, who had been moral in 
 deportment, industrious in the office of an upper ser- 
 vant, but who in a decline of eighteen months, had 
 expended, on many physicians, all which her indus- 
 try had accumulated, for the probable wants of de- 
 crepitude. About five weeks since she was brought 
 into this place, to rest for a short space on the arm 
 of public charity, and then sink into the common 
 grave. I have been acquainted with her ever since 
 her residence in this Asylum for poverty and wretch- 
 edness. 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 
 understand my discourse. A few days since, after 
 I had prayed with her, she uttered a sentence which 
 deserves to be remembered. 
 
 " I desire to bless and praise my God for all his 
 chastisements; and especially, I bless him, painful 
 as my sickness 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 wails 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 necessiated 
 to make a long pause after each member of the sen- 
 tence. It was astonishing that she could, in her 
 weak state, utter so long a sentence, with such ac- 
 curacy and pith. What could she have said, to ex- 
 press more strongly her high estimation of the Gos- 
 pel? " Had I not been sent here, against my will," 
 she added, " I might never have known Jesus 
 
20 
 
 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 a wish to see me. I approached her bed. 
 She made great exertions to speak, but I could only 
 
 hear her say, " I feel differently at times. — - 
 
 — I'm afraid that I deceive 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 
 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, in- 
 forming 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 regular attendant on 
 Trinity Church, and lived, as the world say, w a 
 good, moral life." During several weeks, she ap- 
 peared to possess " a broken and contrite heart." 
 May it not be reasonably supposed that she sleeps 
 in Jesus ? Should one soul be saved in the course of 
 a year's service, I shall be compensated, and those 
 benevolent persons who contribute to my support 
 will not lose their reward. 
 
21 
 
 January 10th. 
 
 " See the dim lamp of life just feebly lift 
 4# An agonizing beam, at us to gaze, 
 " Then sink again, and quiver into death, 
 " The most pathetic herald of our own." 
 
 ^ Yo D k c. 
 
 AFTER preaching this evening to the poor in 
 the Almshouse, I went by request to pray with 
 two females, who have attended on my ministry, and 
 are now confined to their beds. One is an aged wi- 
 dow, who is pious, and who, I believe, will recover, 
 to limp along through life, on two crutches, to ever- 
 lasting glory. She will recover, to suffer more pain, 
 and peddle pin-cushions to procure some of the con- 
 veniences of life, which cannot be distributed in 
 public Almshouses. O ! it is astonishing that the 
 heirs of heaven should be found in such circum- 
 stances ; 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 
 progressive 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 
 frcm 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 mtfct have ex- 
 cluded both hearing and reflection. Such an hour 
 of human misery as thh, I never before Witnessed. 
 But if such are the torments cf this life, what must 
 
22 
 
 be the excruciating agonies of the accursed in the 
 life everlasting? . 
 
 Friday, January llth. At the moment of my 
 entering the Hospital, this morning, D***n died. 
 Intemperance in drinking was the cause of his pre- 
 mature 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 superintend* 
 ent 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 alarm- 
 ed, and confessed the sin of slow and certain sui- 
 cide. Since his last sickness, I have once preached 
 in the ward where he lay, and sung the 107th psalm, 
 third part, of Dwight's edition. 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; 
 
 " 'Till all his active powers are lost, 
 
 " And fainting life draws near the dust.'' 
 
 I could not serve the dead, and therefore I direct- 
 ed 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 temptation. Such has been 
 her conduct, that her husband has some time since 
 refused to protect her. When I approached the 
 unhappy woman, she began to weep aloud, and ap- 
 peared to see in me the messenger of death, instead 
 
23 
 
 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 consider, 
 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. 
 
 The Asylum for maniacs, in this city, is an ap- 
 pendage to the New- York Hospital. Both Institu- 
 tions are under the same honourable Governors, and 
 the same Superintendent. Consider them both as 
 one establishment, and one more benevolent, or bet- 
 ter regulated, for the rehef of the sick and insane, 
 cannot be found in America. The A sylum was 
 opened for the reception of patients on July 15th, 
 A. D. 1808. Yesterday it became the asylum of 
 Miss L^*^*, who may never leave it, until she 
 takes her silent departure to the grave. The cir- 
 cumstances which produced her insanity are inter- 
 esting. She was born in England, and last week ar- 
 rived in New- York. Her mother, with four chil- 
 dren, of whom this young lady, of about eighteen 
 years of age, is the eldest, came to this country in 
 in pursuit of her husband. On the passage, Miss 
 L#### was much reduced by the sickness incident 
 to a long voyage. In addition to this, there were in 
 |he ship's company two comedians, who played a 
 
24 
 
 very censurable farce ; which may terminate more 
 tragically than they would wish. What were their 
 motives I know not ; but the part they acted shall 
 be recorded to their infamy. Shortly before their 
 arrival in this country, these " teachers of morality" 
 by mimicry, ornamented themselves with the glory 
 of their 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 L**** was aroused from her feverish slum- 
 bers, and frightened into paroxysms, of frequent re- 
 turn, and long continuance. 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 embarked for England. 
 Such was the anxiety of the eldest daughter, for her- 
 self, for her mother, and her sisters, that while the 
 mother was gone to the* theatre with the newly im- 
 ported actors, and the daughter was left in a strange 
 boardirg-house, in a strange land, her fits returned, 
 and a delirium supervened. She is now so frantic, 
 as to be confined to the maniac's chair. Consolation 
 cannot 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 
 people of their senses, or frighten them to madness. 
 I would ask the wise, If these mischievous lunatics 
 ou^ht to go at large ? Could one of these comedians 
 take Miss L* ###, s place, a:>.d deliver her from the 
 strait waistcoat, it would be a m'l retribution. la 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 dol- 
 lars per annum. Any sober countryman will 
 pronounce this as incredible, as that a Frenchman in 
 yonder walls should believe every dirty scroll of pa- 
 per which he finds, either a bank-note, or obligation 
 in his favour. Both cases of delirium, however, ac- 
 tually 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 sventy-seven years, and the 
 other a man of colour. The first had his Testa- 
 ment 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, 
 
 j 
 with his back 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 
 
 3 
 
26 
 
 io 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 un- 
 der 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 evert/ other hope. 
 
 January 13th. 
 
 kf Want, and incurable disease, (fell pair,) 
 " On hopeless multitudes remorseless seize 
 e * At once ; and make a refuge of the grave. 
 " How groaning hospitals eject their dead ! 
 " What numbers groan for sad admission there ! 
 " What numbers, once in fortune's lap high-fed, 
 " Solicit the cold hand of charity !** 
 
 Young* 
 
 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 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 op- 
 portunity 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 dis- 
 carded by all her relatives. After a life of dissipa- 
 tion, she is about to close her mortal career in the 
 ronamon sewer of the vilest. Yerilv, verilv, (t the 
 
27 
 
 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 patients were unusually 
 attentive ; and when I passed from ward to ward, I 
 found many reading the Holy Scriptures. This is 
 a favourable omen. 
 
 In the afternoon I preached in the ward of blind 
 persons in the Almshouse. 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. Commonly 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 occasionally frequented this 
 Institution, when neglected by all others, he has 
 learned many sacred songs. He is remarkable for 
 adapting his notes to the words. Never does he set 
 a plaintive sentiment to a sprightly air ; and never, 
 as do many of his brother choiristers, does he 
 name the tune " mortality" for a song of exulta- 
 tion 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. 
 
28 
 
 Since I was at the Almshouse last, two persons 
 have resigned their spirits to God, the Judge* 
 
 January 14th. 
 EARLY this morning, the woman of ill fame 
 who yesterday requested me to pray with her, re- 
 signed 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 where she died, 
 are many sinners of the same class, sensible only of 
 iheir animal agonies, without the fear of God ; with- 
 out hope in his mercy. One of them, however, 
 whose sufferings are very acute, acknowledges, 
 
 t" His strokes are fewer than her crimes, 
 " And lighter than her guilt.'* 
 
 January 17th. 
 A member of the " society for the relief of poor 
 
 widows with small children," Mrs. L C 
 
 took me this morning to visit a sick person, support- 
 ed by this benevolent Institution. It is a pleasure 
 to the good, to know that the ladies who have espous- 
 ed the cause of the widow and fatherless babes, 
 regard with tenderness the spiritual, as well as the 
 temporal situation of their respective charges. 
 
29 
 
 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 indulg- 
 ed. 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 re- 
 ward, according to their deserts. She added, that 
 she had always done as well as she could, and was 
 therefore persuaded 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 attempt- 
 ing to convince her, that if God should punish any 
 person according to his deserts, he would be com- 
 pletely 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 turn- 
 ed 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 resent- 
 ed !) and that she must be everlastingly miserable, if 
 God did not impute the perfect righteousness of 
 Christ to her, through faith in his name. These 
 were hard doctrines, but if they are not blessed of 
 3 # 
 
30 
 
 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 liimself unjust, and accepted as pure, 
 on account of the obedience and sufferings of Christ, 
 while in himself impure, was a new doctrine to her, 
 which she has yet to learn. Her attention was so 
 far gained to these subjects, that she earnestly en- 
 treated me to Call again. 
 
 This morning I have also prayed with Mrs. B. B. 
 in the Hospital. She declines in body ; but from fear, 
 or some other principle, she spends the greater part 
 of her days and nights in ejaculatory prayer. The 
 unfortunate Miss L**** 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 Almshouse was 
 again my church. All were attentive. Many on 
 each side of me were on beds of sickness, and se- 
 veral were near the close of life. Who would not 
 have been affected at such a sight? Many have fre- 
 quented 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 feelings are somewhat blunted. Instead of ob- 
 taining relief by the free perspiration of grief, my 
 heart swells and burns with an unremitting fever. 
 After public worship was concluded, a warm debate 
 arose about the nomination of the ward where I 
 should next preach. Seven or eight aged women 
 
31 
 
 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 receive messages, entreaties, and gentle remon- 
 strances. What can I do but serve them all in ro- 
 tation? 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 pa- 
 tient," was the reply; 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 hear- 
 ers feeling their way down the stairs. One of them, 
 a girl of seventeen, born blind, was pressed away 
 from the balustrade by the crowd, and was necessi- 
 tated 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 apart- 
 ments. 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. 
 
32 
 
 January 19th. 
 
 u 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 ; 
 M Nor known to him the wretches were, nor dear ; 
 " He felt as man, and dropped a human tear." 
 
 Langhorue. 
 
 THE distinction frequently made between the 
 power of sympathy, and the 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 ar- 
 dent, but faithless lover. Represent misery to the 
 man who makes gold his idol, and you may not un- 
 frequently excite a violent commotion in his soul be- 
 tween the passions of avarice and sympathy. These 
 same men, however, will produce and continue 
 the misery, at the representation of which they felt 
 commisseration for the unhappy. 
 
 The man of feeling, without religion, when the 
 ether of his imagination pours liquid fire through his 
 veins, rushes on, heedless of consequences; and 
 shame, poverty, disease, and even hell, are phan- 
 toms to him. He is an unrestrained 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 ani- 
 mal excites in a brute companion, is the sole excite- 
 
33 
 
 ment to his charity. Benevolence, which becomes 
 a rational being, and which God will approve, is a 
 consistent, habitual regard for the welfare of others, 
 which is manifested by corresponding actions. Sym- 
 pathy is natural and amiable ; but benevolence, when 
 exercised by a fallen man, is supernatural and holy. 
 Would to God that the two were united in every hu- 
 man 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 are able to provide for themselves, 
 and one or two can give some assistance to the mo- 
 ther, 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 reli . ion ; and more, she 
 is pious. Her children are neat and industrious. 
 For a single room she pays twenty -five dollars, yearly 
 rent ; and earns a part of this by sewing nankeen 
 pantaloons and common shirts, for the 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 themselves, must be content with 
 one shilling, while the purchasers pay many shil- 
 lings for the same work. AH 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 chil- 
 dren attend that benevolent Institution, " The New- 
 York Free School,'' and if the Lord shall spare 
 
34 
 
 them, I doubt not will make useful mechanics. When 
 this widow was in her most destitute condition, be- 
 fore she could gather something to begin the world 
 anew, with her fatherless children, a young man of 
 generous, native feelings, who never saw her, sent 
 five dollars for her relief. This same man of ten- 
 derness, however, gave that for which he was indebt- 
 ed, and soon after defrauded many of his friends. 
 Alas ! alas ! why had not this youth benevolence, as 
 well as sympathy ! Another young man, who is poor 
 indeed, but whom providence has hitherto protected, 
 has more than once divided with the family, when 
 almost destitute of wood and bread, his last dollar. 
 The pride of doing good, or sympathy, or something 
 else, may have actuated him. God searches his 
 heart ! 
 
 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 Almshouse, when they are almost driven into 
 it by want, are the proper objects for pecuniary as- 
 sistance. 
 
 The wind blew the piercing cold from the north ; 
 but the southern sun illuminated the abode of the wi- 
 dow. 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 
 
35 
 
 wretchedness which it could not dispel. It encou- 
 raged me to take a missionary tour through some of 
 the wards in the Almshouse. 
 
 Here I saw one of my aged friends, to whom mi?ht 
 be applied Milton's description of honourable old 
 
 " So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop 
 
 '* Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease 
 
 w Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd, for Death mature. 
 
 *' This is old age ; but then thou must outlive 
 
 " Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change 
 
 " To wither'd, 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 will reign 
 
 " A melancholy damp of cold and dry, 
 
 " To weigh thy spirits down. n 
 
 At my request, she repeated thirty or forty stanzas 
 of different hymns, which she learned in child- 
 hood and youth. 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 loner, she does not remember how 
 long-, before the revolutionary war. Her maiden 
 name was Christiana Ritchie, but she is now the wi- 
 dow 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 se- 
 cond time ?" She answered, with a smile, that she 
 was old when her husband died ; that they had al- 
 
36 
 
 ways lived in peace ; and that she was Ci afraid t« 
 try another, 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 intermediate things, saving 
 the general remembrance of God's love, have vanish- 
 ed from her mind. To the remark, " You appear 
 still to love God," she replied, " Aye ! whom have 
 I to love better than hi rri ! I would not be without 
 his love, and love to him, for a thousand worlds !" 
 She delights in religious conversation, and public 
 worship. When her nurse told her that I was to 
 preach in her room to-morrow, she said, " TJ ell, I 
 am very glad, Sir ; and may God give you instruc- 
 tion, 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 exhibition of a merciful Saviour ; but 
 when men expect death in less than a week, and 
 their sins arise in horrible array against them, it is 
 difficult to distinguish filial fear from the slavish 
 dread of God. The one is a saving grace of the 
 Holy Spirit ; and the other, an actual infliction cf a 
 part of the wrath and curse of God due to sin. Ter- 
 rors 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?" 
 
37 
 
 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 en- 
 abled to present the patients with some Hymn Books, 
 to be detained in the Institution, which were receiv- 
 ed and used with great pleasure. It was a matter of 
 regret, that I could not present more of the excel- 
 lent « 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 knees ; and the man of colour bow- 
 ed his head in awful depression. Both of them ap- 
 peared to feel, that their last sabbath had dawned on 
 them, and expressed a desire to remember past pri- 
 vileges, and improve the present moment, by sing- 
 ing 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, bumble sinner, in whose breast 
 
 " A thousand thoughts revolve ; 
 u Come, with your guilt and fear opprest, 
 
 " And make this last resolve : 
 
 " I'll go to Testis, though my sia 
 
 *' Hath like a mountain rose ; 
 *' I ki : ow his courts, I'll enter in, 
 
 " "\Vnatever may oppose.'' 
 
 During public worship in the Almshouse this after- 
 noon, the woman of 103 years sat before me, and 
 4 
 
33 
 
 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 dif- 
 fers 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 stran- 
 ger might ask, " will it be to him?" While he owns 
 it, he will have the satisfaction which all desire, of 
 calling something his property. 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 sold. 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 for him a Chris- 
 tian can beg, without deeming it a degradation. 
 
 When leaving the room, I said to Mary L ## ^* f 
 a blind woman, " well, Mary, I hope it was some con- 
 
39 
 
 eolation for you to /tear ; for faith cometh by hear- 
 ing" She replied in an instant, " it is better to 
 believe than to see; but I hope to see in the next 
 world ; and among others, since I have been com- 
 forted 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 manifesta- 
 tion of his benevolence. 
 
 In addition to the other employments of this day, 
 I have enjoyed the communion of saints, and inflict- 
 ed 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 cir«< 
 cumstance that Christians of different sections of 
 the Presbyterian Church, 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 
 defiance of the warfare waged by names. 
 
 The church in Cedar-street, and the third Asso- 
 ciate Reformed church, with many individuals of 
 other sections of the Christian community, deserve 
 the thanks of the whole church, for the discovery, 
 that the word Scotch is not the test of religious fel- 
 lowship ; and that the members of the same mystical 
 body, who are born of the spirit, may descend, ac- 
 cording to the flesh, from Highland, Lowland, En- 
 
40 
 
 glish, Irish, Dutch, French, German, or American 
 ancestry. Long live this friendly intercourse be^ 
 tween children of the same family and the same 
 faith ! Multitudes may enter heaven with whom the 
 churches ought not to commune, lest they should 
 encourage the errors of the saints ; but where the 
 same Gospel is supported, 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 
 doctrines, so that the whole fraternity of heretics 
 may find as many difficulties to impede the erec- 
 tion of their system, as obstructed the building of its 
 prototype, Babel. 
 
 The infidel, whom I attacked in the evening, de- 
 served 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 visit- 
 ed 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 know- 
 ledge, which is contained in the primer of infidelity, 
 " The Age of Reason ;" and if it is honourable for 
 a Debt to commence hostilities, it is not dishonour- 
 abla 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 birtb* 
 • The glorious truth ? who struggle to he brutes ? 
 
41 
 
 ** Who through this hosom-barrier burst their way ; 
 
 " And, with reverst ambition, strive to sink ? 
 
 " Who labour downwards through the opposing powers 
 
 rt Of instinct, reason, and the world against them, 
 
 " To dismal hopes, and shelter in the shock 
 
 " Of endless night ? *» 
 
 Samson Occmn, the Indian preacher, after a long 
 contest with an universalist, terminated the contro- 
 versy, 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 applied to the 
 argumentation between the friends and the ene- 
 mies 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 consolation in death, by shaking his faith in the 
 system of Christianity. 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 aiFords 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 mo- 
 ther, who desired her son to restore to her, on the 
 bed of sickness, the consolations of which he had 
 deprived her, by making her a sceptic. After this 
 severe, but gentle, reproof was given, our conversa- 
 tion was terminated. This bold and ferocious fel- 
 low, who could worry a lamb, would not even defend 
 himself against an equal. He heard the whole, dis- 
 covered considerable agitation, attempted to divert 
 the course ©f conversation, but opened not his mouth 
 4 # 
 
42 
 
 hi favour of his own opinions. Impudence and cow- 
 ardice often co-exist in the same breast. 
 
 Of the truth of this remark, I have additional evi* 
 dence. Not long since, I called on a friend, who, 
 from great urbanity, 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 their 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 shuddered in youth, have become familiar by 
 practice. To quiet their consciences, they have 
 concluded, very philosophically, 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 dessert. It was the time for 
 every man to expose his whole heart. After deny- 
 ing the divine institution of the sabbath, and the in- 
 spiration of the Scriptures, one of these mighty men 
 of the plantation turned to me, and said, " Christian* 
 ity has made more damned rascals, than all other 
 religions under heaven." With indignation, I 
 arose to leave the room, and said, " It is false ! it is 
 false, Sir !" He arose too, in terrible wrath, exclaim- 
 ing, M I demand explanation, Sir, or satisfaction \ 
 
43 
 
 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, M a gentleman of refined education 
 and manners, to tell 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. H — , who had remained silent, upon 
 
 this disclosure took his departure ; but having enter- 
 ed the lists, I felt constrained to add, " I shall affirm 
 that your assertion is false, until you show some doc- 
 trine, precept, or promise in the Gospel, which coun- 
 tenances deception 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 builet-bag. My friend, 
 the Elder, was unfortunately so deaf, that he did not 
 distinctly understand the conversation ; and of course, 
 
 the Rev. Mr. H being absent, no one offered 
 
 his services as my armour-bearer in the dreadful con- 
 flict. My answer was, 
 
 " lain ready to meet you, Sir, and shall meet you 
 jioiv, with no other weapons than those of truth 
 
44 
 
 and conscience. I did not say that you was a liar, 
 but that your assertion was false. Every He is a 
 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 disposition 
 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 Christian* 
 ity 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. 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 Christians, 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 offered me his hand, and I left him, with the ex- 
 pression of my desire that he might feel the influ- 
 ences 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 remark which I made in my own 
 mind, after leaving the company, I would propose as 
 a moral to my kindred according to the flesh. 
 
 When a young man discards the pious customs of 
 his native place, and the faith of his Christian an- 
 
45 
 
 cestors, he commonly becomes one of the vilest of 
 (he vile. 
 
 January 24th. 
 
 THERE is a woman of colour, row in the Hos- 
 pital, who has been dreadfully mangled by her hus- 
 band. He had been often deranged in mind, by the 
 stimulant effect 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 se- 
 veral 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 with her hands on the wounds, and 
 the floor wet with blood. Her reason for not making 
 more complaint was, a conviction that her htisband 
 knew not what he did ; and a fear that he would be 
 executed, while an impenitent sinner. She now dis- 
 covers great concern for the soul of her husband ; 
 and while she knows that the physicians despair of 
 her life, is anxious that prayer should be offer- 
 ed for his pardon, rather than for her own recover}". 
 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 affluent. 
 
 With the criminals I found many persons, who 
 appear to have more disposition than ability to 
 
43 
 
 teach ; for many good men are poorly qualified to 
 indoctrinate the ignorant. With one consent, exer- 
 tion 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 persuasion 
 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 John- 
 son and Sinclair, it was my endeavour seriously and 
 rationally to convince them from the word of God, 
 of their own sin, of the righteousness which 13 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 Almshouse 
 this morning, it was an unfeigned pleasure to give se- 
 veral more hymn-books for the use of the destitute 
 wards. 
 
 January 25th, 
 THE EXECUTION. 
 
 " 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. * 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 THE cell of the murderers was this morning open- 
 ed 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 de- 
 
47 
 
 nominations. Two German ministers devoted them- 
 selves to their unhappy countryman, who confessed 
 perhaps ail 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 
 lie was converted, that all his sins were unquestion- 
 ably pardoned, 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, be- 
 cause 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 
 Hallelujah, he frequently turned to me, and asked, 
 *' How shall I pray ? What shall be my last prayer V* 
 JIaving explained the nature of sin, and of Christ's 
 satisfaction for transgression, the hope was expressed 
 that he would die with the prayer of the publican in 
 his heart. When the singing men gave a short in- 
 termission, 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 con- 
 fession and petition, to confident declarations of his 
 own sincerity. 
 
 At the appointed hour, spectators withdrew from 
 the celi; the chains were taken off; the prisoners 
 
48 
 
 were arrayed 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 approached him, and gave 
 the last embrace. The family of the keeper also 
 approached, with much tenderness, and bade them 
 farewell. When the prisoners had descended to the 
 yard, I designed to have left Johnson among his 
 friends, who were particularly desirous of walking- 
 with him, while the German brethren led Sinclair ; 
 but when the cart which contained the scaffold and 
 the coffins appeared, the black man turned and in- 
 quired for me with anxiety. His entreaty that I 
 would not leave him, induced me to see the consum- 
 mation 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 ma- 
 ny, who incessantly sUng as we marched, with mili- 
 tary escort, but he seemed to regard songs as now in-, 
 appropriate to his circumstances. Again and again 
 he entreated me to teach him how to pray; and 
 when I dictated suitable expressions, he would re- 
 peat them with great fervour. He had no heart for 
 any thing but the revelation of the grace of our 
 Lord 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 
 
49 
 
 vernacular tongue. The German protested his in- 
 nocence to the last. Johnson confessed; and shak- 
 ing hands, while they looked up to heaven, they re- 
 ciprocally greeted eaeh other, saying, " God bless 
 you : farewell." In an instant after this, Johnson 
 perceiving the cartman about to drive, exclaimed, 
 w stop! stop! one minute longer; let me pray one 
 breath more! God be merciful to me a sinner;" 
 when they were suspended together, 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 
 Lin*," would ask, as he did, " what shall we do to be 
 saved ?" 
 
 If either of these unhappy men is now assured 
 of- bis salvation, the assurance has come as soon as, 
 in -der their circumstances, it could be expected : and 
 if now he sings " alleluia to the Lamb ; doubts have 
 fled, fear is extinguished, 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 religious expe- 
 rience, if not derived from a considerable course of 
 consistent piety, is presumption, if not damning 
 
 DELUSION* 
 
50 
 
 January 26th. 
 
 " Let us consider one another, to provoke tinto love, and to good 
 ■works." Paul. 
 
 LAST evening a member of the Widow's So- 
 ciety made me promise, without delay, to visit the 
 poor woman whom I saw on the 17th irtst. 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, pro- 
 voked 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, misery, and 
 death. Many pious instructions had she received 
 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 believes to salvation, 
 must be left with the Searcher of hearts. 
 
 January 27th. 
 LAST week five patients died in the Hospital, 
 and while speaking there, this morning, in the pre- 
 sence 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 fractured, in the line 
 of his daily business, his wife could not endure the 
 thoughts of parting with him : but her feeble attend- 
 
51 
 
 ance on him, surrounded by poverty and sickness 
 was insufficient, and he became delirious. He lias 
 left, I .arn 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 So- 
 ciety. 
 
 Afternoon. After speaking in one room, I visited 
 another in the Almshouse, which is full of sick per- 
 sons. Their misery makes me sick at heart ; espe- 
 cially 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 intem- 
 perance, was greatly moved by the word of God. 
 His attention has been increasing for some weeks. O 
 may God bless my poor labours to the salvation of 
 his trembling soul ! 
 
 Evening. The widow whom I visited yesterday, 
 is gone. Her departure I did not imagine to be so 
 very near. Thanks to Mrs. J. E — C — , who urged 
 my last attentions to the dying fellow-sinner ! To re- 
 ciprocate her kindness, I presented the card of the 
 lately bereaved mother of five babes, which she ac- 
 cepted with an assurance of affording the most im- 
 mediate relief within her power. 
 
 January 31st. 
 WHEN I first saw blind Sally, I went at the re- 
 quest of an elder of the Dutch church, to converse 
 with her upon the concerns of her soul. She was 
 greatly troubled, by res-on of spiritual darkness; 
 
52 
 
 and was the first person who besought me to preach 
 in the Almshouse. 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 marvellous 
 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 immediately re- 
 plied, " 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 displeased with a discourse ; for all ser- 
 mons are not alike to him, nor is the last sermon al- 
 ways the best. He has already 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 after 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 ap- 
 plications were made by old and young, for similar 
 books, with which, on account of my inability to gra- 
 tify their wishes, I was almost as much troubled as 
 pleased. 
 
 It was gratifying to see another aged blind wo- 
 man very attentive, who formerly, when a gentleman, 
 Mr. B. who accompanied me, said in her hearing, 
 " perhaps many of these persons are more blind in 
 spirit, than in their bodily organs," discovered con- 
 
63 
 
 siderable resentment, and leaving the room, exclaim- 
 ed, " perhaps we are not so blind, neither !" Soon 
 after this I took occasion to deliver 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 
 u 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 remembrance, that some of them are orphans, 
 some fatherless, some motherless, and ethers not ac- 
 knowledged by any earthly parent, was calculated 
 to excite melancholy feelings. Some of them, how- 
 ever, 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 ; 
 
 r * Behind a frowning providence 
 ° He hides a smiln.g face. 
 
 5 # 
 
54 
 
 " His purposes will ripen fust, 
 " Unfolding ev'17 hour; 
 
 "' The bud may have a bitter taste, 
 r * But sweet will be the flowV." 
 
 February 2nd. 
 
 MY journal is of necessity the record of wretch- 
 edness. The unfortunate Miss L^^ # '^ is more fran- 
 tic, and there is very little reason to 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 putrefac- 
 tion. She exhibits an example of patience and for- 
 giveness, which is worthy of imitation. 
 
 Another sufferer lies in the Hospital, bereft of rea- 
 son, 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 crea- 
 ture. 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. 
 
S5 
 
 February 3rd. 
 
 IN the ward of the Almshouse in which I preach- 
 ed this morning, were ten bed-rid 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-day renewed his application with 
 great ardour. He was very respectful, but very im- 
 portunate. I doubted his ability to read, but he 
 soon convinced me of my mistake. Two books were 
 all I had ; and since several little boys were watch- 
 ing the success of their companion, I presented 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 weep- 
 ing. 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 P* 
 
 " I'm going there to live : I'll not be seen here 
 
58 
 
 again, Sir, very soon, if they use me well at the 
 factory." 
 
 The book was his ; and mine the pleasure of his 
 promise, 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, be- 
 ing an heir of glory, to learn patience, and have an 
 opportunity of imitating Christ in his humiliation, 
 tends a cotton-machine, for a scanty subsistence. 
 
 In the afternoon, my audience at the Hospital was 
 unusually 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 resembles a guide-post 
 indeed; for he stands beside a public road, multi- 
 tudes 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, 
 which are taught in this place, may be carried in the 
 minds of the seamen to distant lands. Some mari- 
 ner may remember a discourse about the blessed 
 Saviour in a storm ; and some forlorn female, thought- 
 lessly returning to her former abode, may find ar- 
 rows of truth fastened in the mind, of which she 
 
0? 
 
 was insensible, and which may eventually give her 
 no peace, until her polluted conscience 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 so the Hospital by her father, who 
 has two other daughters beside this, who have been 
 patients in this Institution. The eldest sister led 
 the way ; the younger sisters followed. In eatly 
 childhood they were all left motherless ; and the fa- 
 ther, as is commonly the case with labouring men, 
 had no time to stand sentinel over the chastity of 
 three fair daughters. 
 
 February llh. 
 
 IN the course of the last week, several blind peo- 
 ple 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. Seme of the aged men, who baAe been 
 without God, appear to be awakened from their stu- 
 pidity, and requested 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 nurse3 of 
 those rooms are pious. They have contributed 
 much to my comfort, by making their rooms clean 
 for my reception. Some unusual exertion, which 
 
58 
 
 was much needed, has uniformly been made to puri- 
 fy the apartments where our assemblies have been 
 convened. If no other purification should result 
 from our coming together, this will be no trivial be- 
 Hefit to the poor. 
 
 February 10th. 
 
 AN aged man presensed nie the petition of a blind 
 boy, who desired a hymn-book. The boy was born 
 blind, but could sing, as 1 before had learned, many 
 sacred son?s. He can commit to memory any com- 
 mon 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 in the 16th page 
 of this journal. She expressed great gratitude to 
 God for giving her this holy day, and said she hoped 
 He would five me something good to give them. 
 During the service, she was much affected; and 
 after it, bathing my hand with her tears, she said, 
 " O what a coot Cot I have ! He give me all things. 
 Ho could my plessed Saviour stoop so low as me, 
 as pick up me, poor sinner ! He cover my naked- 
 ness, 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 under- 
 stand you when you read the English Bible ; as my 
 
59 
 
 prother, the minister, said, he will never leave mc. 
 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 pre* 
 sent 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 serious while a fever racres in 
 their blood, who, with returning health, return to 
 their former stupidity. This unfortunate I design 
 to trace, if possible, in her future course. It cannot 
 be a long one ; unless God should reclaim her by the 
 power of the Gospel. Should she evince a disposi- 
 tion to live a moral life in future, must she be turned 
 out again upon the world, to encounter strong temp- 
 tation ? 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 
 
GO 
 
 worthless father's house, where she will find the sis* 
 ters 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 mis- 
 tress. M— - 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 pro- 
 vide himself food and drink. By what profession, 
 then, could they live ; hy what art could they adorn 
 their persons? Under such circumstances, where 
 there is no fear of God, an effectual repulsion of in* 
 sidious approaches, a persevering struggle against 
 temptation, need not be expected. It will never be 
 found. 
 
 At present M-— professes to detest her past man- 
 ner 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 which she tasted, 
 that will perpetually irritate insatiable desire. 
 
 In such a city as this, in which are not less tlfan 
 seven thousand females of this description^ it is de* 
 voutly to be desired, that some retreat should be 
 afforded to those, who, from any cause, ar? 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 prostituting 
 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 humble 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 
 Gospel. The man of science will find, on his deaths 
 bed, that this is enviable " foolishness.'* 
 
 February 1 4th. 
 
 H Now also, when I am old and gray-headed, 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 capa- 
 cious than any I have 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 conceive of ve- 
 nerable 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. 
 6 
 
62 
 
 Bo long have they stood, that the younger trees, 
 which grew after them, have mouldered into cUist* 
 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 shivered hy the lurid lightning's hlast, 
 " The dying fir, late monarch of the grove, 
 
 f 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, for^ 
 sake 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 desire 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 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 mart 
 feels." 
 
63 
 
 " "Well, child, you must hear v» hat Christ says : 
 believe in him, love him ; for he died for sinners ; 
 and then you will see him in a better world." 
 
 When I was going down stairs, the man, " whose 
 countenance 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 in- 
 tention to have made the application privately, that 
 he might not have rivals ; but two or three aged wo- 
 men heard him, and expressed their hope that I 
 should not forget them. The books already distri- 
 buted, I see at least twice a week, and find that they 
 are devoted to a proper use. Shall this man, ap- 
 parently under deep conviction, a shoe-maker for 
 paupers, be denied his request? The books cost 
 about fifty cents each. It is a small sum, indeed, but 
 it may accomplish much good. 
 
 February 17 th. 
 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 Almshouse, 
 and was enabled to preach in both places, to many 
 more grievously afflicted than myself. All very so- 
 licitously inquired after my health; and without 
 
 tor ttiV re- 
 
 doubt, many sincere Dravers were offered fa 
 covery. beorge 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 
 
64 
 
 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 passages of pe* 
 culiar interest to them, by more than one hundred 
 different shreds of calico. Until the Bible Society, 
 composed of young men, began a distribution in the 
 Almshouse, 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 21st. 
 
 W. R — , who is without father, without mother, 
 and without relative, or, at least, without any person 
 who recognizes relation either by blood or affinity, 
 repeated seven stanzas which he had committed to 
 memory since the last sabbath. 
 
 To the poor old creatures I gave neither silver nor 
 gold ; but what may be of more use to them, a ser- 
 mon, and some sacred songs. When the ignorant 
 are anxious to learn, to teach them what relates to 
 their everlasting peace, affords higher gratification, 
 
 '" ine young men msi suiiffiii uiu uic tuiwc *v,«w/ t uicy marw 
 not ,- and since that time, the poor in the Hospital and Almshouse 
 have been honourably supplied by the two Bible Societies in this 
 city. The Bibles have been uniformly preserred with great care. 
 
65 
 
 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 pro- 
 per means are not used to reform those, who have de- 
 parted 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 proffered protection? What 
 female has sought to convince one of the miserable 
 of her own sex, that the door of mercy 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 pos- 
 sibly might have been saved. Legion is the name 
 of that Unhappy class of persons, who, in the fond- 
 ness of expectation, in the security of promise, in 
 the ardour of youth, and madness of blood, have once 
 yielded to the strong allurements of pleasure, hut who 
 would never have yielded to a second deceiver, had 
 not the scorn of cruel relatives forced them to the 
 6 * 
 
66 
 
 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 re- 
 putation, or could we bear unjust reproach for Christ's 
 sake, we might visit, with hearts of mercy, and hands 
 of beneficence, the most notorious offenders. 
 
 The writer has to-day witnessed one laudable at- 
 tempt. Two ladies, on Wednesday last, read what 
 of my journal was then written, and felt such an in- 
 terest in the girl of fifteen, M. D — , that they re- 
 solved to invite her return from perdition. One of 
 these pious persons accompanied me to the Hospi- 
 tal, 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 must have employed the attention of her fa- 
 ther ? 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 pa- 
 rents of this description, who ought to sustain the 
 double office of father and mother to their daughters, 
 must render a most solemn account in the general 
 judgment. How many must confess that they have 
 
f>7 
 
 been the indirect causes of the prostitution of their 
 families ! " If thou sayest, < behold, we 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 24th. 
 Dr. M — delivered an excellent discourse in the 
 Hospital this morning, to a very attentive audience ; 
 and expressed his full conviction, that it is as im- 
 portant 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. 
 
 — o*c»— 
 
 February 28th. 
 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 facility; which astonishes 
 me ; because when others learn to repeat what 
 is written, they are greatly assisted by recollect- 
 ing the place which 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, 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 caD repeat more sacred 
 
poetry and passages of inspiration, than all the other 
 inhabitants of the Almshouse. W. R— repeated 
 another hymn. He can always tell me the number 
 of the hymn, and the page. 
 
 In singing, my blind musician, very unexpectedly, 
 repeated, and repeated again, the second line of the 
 fourth stanza, of the 86th hymn ; 
 
 " Midst outward afflictions shall feel Christ within j" 
 
 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 honour- 
 ed the judgment of this eccentric singer. The 
 crowd of hearers was so great, that many were 
 obliged to stand, and some on crutches too ; so that 
 every square foot of room was occupied, except im- 
 mediately 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 
 atmosphere, before a warm fire, amidst (he sick, who 
 are attentive, 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 need- 
 lessly, 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. Go4 bkss 
 the poor. 
 
69 
 
 March 3rd. 
 
 ** He answered, and said, * I will not ;' but afterward he repented 
 and went." Matt. xxi. 29. 
 
 IN the Hospital these words commanded atten- 
 tion ; and every eye was fixed, from the beginning 
 to the end of the discourse. 
 
 Three times, weekly, I have an audience, more 
 Fesembling that which Christ commonly addressed, 
 than can be found in any place not devoted to the 
 poor and wretched. May I but tread in the steps of 
 my divine Master, blessed will be my ministry. 
 Deeply do I regret, however, 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 Almshouse 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 interrupted 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. 
 
70 
 
 March 7th. 
 
 W. R — , the blind lad, repeated several hymns. 
 I hav r e heard him read a chapter in the Bible. He 
 must 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 omis- 
 sion of only a few words. The person who first 
 paid attention to this child deserves high praise. It 
 was Mrs. ff*.****, 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 ig- 
 norant as the beasts which perish. She began to 
 cultivate his mind ; and by the assistance of " the 
 Friendly Union Society," in catechising 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 ins companions in years who enjoy the 
 light. 
 
 March 9th. 
 
 tl Cast thy bread upon the waters : for thou shall find it after 
 
 many days."* 
 '■ He that hath pity on the poor lendeth unto the Lord; and that 
 
 which he hath given will He pay him again." 
 
 TKE 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 un- 
 doubtedly fulfilled. Who ever perished witb hun- 
 
It 
 
 ger, that so trusted in the Lord as to be an heir of 
 this promise, " verily thou shalfc be fed ?" W ho 
 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 an 
 horrible pit, out of the miry clay, audsetmy feet up- 
 on a rock, and established my goings ?" I am young, 
 and have seen many promises fulfilled. There are 
 jnany who can declare, " we are old ; 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 neces- 
 sary 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 parents of the vagabond, like Eli and Sa- 
 muel, were defective in family government. The 
 promise which is subjoined to the command, " train 
 up a child in the way he siould go," is not un- 
 frequently thought to be abrogated, because many 
 pious heads of families have the reputation of com- 
 manding (heir 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 wa& cast upon the waters. 
 
 In the war, which separated the United States 
 from the crown of England, a family was much re- 
 duced, by the death of one of the heads, and the 
 
72 
 
 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 benevolent atten- 
 tion. For six weeks they watched the wavering 
 flame of life, with the tenderness of sisters, and ex- 
 pected 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 at- 
 tendants knew it. They did not expect remunera- 
 tion ; 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 lodg- 
 ing. So soon as ? his health would permit, he shoul- 
 dered 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. 
 
 The widow and the fatherless cast their bread up- 
 on the waters : they had pity upon the poor soldier. 
 The 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 resur- 
 rection, to walk with the Captain of their salvation in 
 the pure robes of righteousness. The two daughters 
 
73 
 
 survive. The widow and the son of the departed 
 soldier are also in the land of the living. The son is 
 in Europe ; but his wife and mother are in this city. 
 A few days since, they knew not that any of the fa- 
 mily 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 daughter-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, it was 
 her husband of whom the poor women spake. 
 
 It was a remarkable providence, which brought 
 this young 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 cir- 
 cumstances, 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 adversity ? Remember the poor, visit the wi- 
 dow, comfort the fatherless ; aixl when you are re- 
 duced 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 " it is more bless- 
 ed to give than to receive." 
 
?4 
 
 March 10th. 
 
 ON the 24th of the last month, the writer preach 
 ed in the ward of the Almshouse in which he held 
 public worship this morning: but the room was al- 
 most 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 turn, 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 chronical complaints, or when the 
 Hospital is full, they are brought to the Almshouse, 
 to die and be buried at the public expense. Ser- 
 vants and labourers, who have not been sufficiently 
 prudent or successful, to make provision for a linger- 
 ing 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 re- 
 moval 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 be- 
 nevolence 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 any place in a decent fa* 
 mily, where it is proper that she should reside. The 
 situation of these women in the Hospital is unfavour- 
 
75 
 
 able to reformation ; for it is impossible to exclude 
 them from all intercourse with wicked men. Possi- 
 bly, 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 apart- 
 ments, 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 not expedient, to 
 confine in work-houses some of the clamorous and 
 diseased persons, 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 corrupted, and their health de- 
 stroyed, by the allurements of those, who walk at li- 
 berty, spreading the pestilence in all their way. 
 " At the window of my house," every man of ob- 
 servation 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 : 
 
 * These Institutions in London are exclusively devoted to out 
 cast females. The first heals them ; the second protects aad 
 provides for them. 
 
76 
 
 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 
 } r ears going " after her straightway, as an ox goeth 
 to the slaughter, 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 
 bis 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 Almshouse, which was deaf, dumb, 
 and lame. It was sewed up in a blanket ; and since 
 no one acknowledged it, the Institution humanely 
 received it. It is one of the effects of Christianity, 
 that such Asylums are provided 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, they would have 
 brought him openly, and claimed support. 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 Cru- 
 soe's man, he has been called by that name. From 
 his appearance, 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 
 
77 
 
 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 articulate sounds, 
 from compulsion, without understanding their mean- 
 ing. In every respect, Friday, erect like a man, is 
 inferior to most animals. Would any of our race 
 bave exhibited such a spectacle, had not sin, defor- 
 mity, imbecility, mental disorder, and idiotism, enter- 
 ed the world by the first transgression ? 
 
 March 13th. 
 
 " Should the world frown, and ail its pleasures fir, 
 
 " Should every earthly comfort disappear, 
 
 " And all the charms 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 that universal nature bcasts.' , 
 
 Mas. Steele. 
 THOSE sick and dying persons, who belong to 
 no clergyman'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 hearu habitually, 
 have sent me a request to come and pray with them, 
 -and seem to think that I am exclusively their proper- 
 ty, because they are poor, or because they have been 
 so wicked as formerly to slight all religious ordi- 
 nances. 
 
 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 
 7 * 
 
78 
 
 to be about twenty-three years of age. He was So- 
 emn, and deeply anxious about the salvation of his 
 soul. The law had performed its appropriate work 
 of alarming, terrifying, and convincing him ; yea, of 
 killing every hope of salvation by his personal obe- 
 dience. By familiar comparisons, I attempted to il- 
 lustrate the doctrine of a sinner's justification, on ac- 
 count of that work which was performed, without 
 man's pro-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 
 appeared to dawn on the visage of death. The young 
 man was much affected ; desired prayers ; and ear- 
 nestly entreated me to call again. 
 
 From this place I went to the abode of those maid- 
 en females, who befriended the sick soldier. I rais- 
 ed 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 enter- 
 ing 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 cali- 
 co, and that defective here and there, 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 behold her visitor. 
 
 " What! are you here alone?" 
 
 " Yes, alone ; but not alone neither." She stretch- 
 ed forth her hand, and after a few convulsive strug- 
 gles with the enemy at her vitals, said, " I am glad 
 
79 
 
 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 dan- 
 gerously sick, she should be deserted ; but she re- 
 plied, 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 af- 
 flicted 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 linger- 
 ing 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 compas- 
 sionate, she suffered fr©m the want of many of the 
 necessaries of life ; but now " she is quite comfort- 
 able." 
 
 Lastly, I visited the widow and the fatherless, to 
 learn their present situation. A few days ago I w* 
 at the abode of the same woman, and her little son 
 was dangerously sick. She watched with him in- 
 cessantly, which made me apprehensive that I should 
 fbd her ill ; and I was not disappointed. The little 
 boy saw me coming, and welcomed me with a smile; 
 but the mother was almost insensible ; was confined 
 to the bed ; had se?:t for no physician ; ai.d had no 
 other nurse than her half-recovered child. This wo- 
 man, I positively know, has been industrious, and po- 
 
80 
 
 verty in her case is not her fault ; unless it is a crime 
 to find needles and silk, to close and bind Morocco 
 ghoes 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. 
 B — and Mrs. P — , 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 in- 
 to the lacerated heart the balm of Gospel peace. 
 There are many such pious women in this city, and 
 God reward them a thousand fold. 
 
 March Uth. 
 
 THIS evening was devoted to public worship, 
 private conversation, and the hearing of hymns re- 
 peated, in the Almshouse. The usual solemnity pre- 
 vailed, and many were affected at the inquiry, " will 
 ye also go away V 9 After the discourse, some of the 
 blind stood around me to be instructed, and express- 
 ed 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, 
 that half, or even a fourth part of the thousand peo- 
 ple 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 of 
 a more polite audience, and some never wish te see a 
 
81 
 
 minister, until they think death ready to plunge them 
 into hell. 
 
 March \Wu 
 
 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 hi 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 per- 
 son, who being free from debt, and at peace with 
 mankind, can wrap himself in his mantle, saying, " 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, ex- 
 cept a little bird, 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 
 
 * Tins aged woman, in the spring of 1812, became quite in- 
 firm. 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 apparent under all vircumstaneea. 
 
tsa 
 
 into knots by the rheumatism, and she cannot leave 
 her bed; but other persons under similar confine- 
 ment earnestly contend for their turns, and I must 
 preach in eight or ten wards before she can be grati- 
 fied. 
 
 The Hospital, with the approach of warmer wea- 
 ther, 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 addressed 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 regular pro- 
 gression to " all the region round about" her. 
 
 So long as sin reigns, and this city exists a com- 
 mercial mart, the two Institutions in which I labour, 
 will abound with miserable offenders, who must pe- 
 rish, 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 20th. 
 
 Miss L*#*# is numbered with the dead. She 
 was restored 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 permitted 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, 
 
83 
 
 that of insanity is the most dreadful ; because, in 
 almost every instance, it puts the patient beyond the 
 reach of the Gospel. In two hundred cases, I have 
 known only two persons who were benefited by reli- 
 gious instruction. In one of these, a young man, 
 who was on the recovery, but deeply concerned for 
 the salvation of his soul, apparently derived consola- 
 tion 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 men- 
 ial anguish, than the razor, which had stained his 
 hand with his own blood. 
 
 March 21 st 
 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 employment than I found in the Almshouse. 
 The ward of blind people was crowded, and many, 
 who sought to enter, were unable. The room was 
 warm, and the atmosphere odious; but since our 
 Master stooped to the meanest condition ; yea, en- 
 dured the hardest fare, how could ministers retreat, 
 until they had delivered their message ? The singing 
 was animated, and the attention of the hearers com- 
 pensated for the want of wholesome air* When the 
 weather is warm, it is impossible to be comfortable, 
 where are twenty beds, and more than one hundred 
 people, respiring the atmosphere of a single room, 
 
84 
 
 again and again. After the sermon, I was sufficient- 
 ly 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 auditors, and sings broken 
 English with George very devoutly. 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. 
 " Oh! I remember," she said, " the passage of 
 Scripture ;" and convinced me that she was well ac- 
 quainted with the context ; which one of her com- 
 panions promised immediately to read for her ; and 
 I departed to the bed of an aiieu man, a soldier in 
 the revolution, who is grievously afflicted with an in- 
 flammation of the head. He has served as a gover- 
 nor 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 
 constable or tithing man among the noisy little ones, 
 I do not know. Alas I almost every old soldier, when 
 the toils of war are over, will drink too freely. It is 
 
85 
 
 the case with this* 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 misera- 
 ble in appearance, listened to my speech, and on my 
 departure, offered me their hands with many bless- 
 ings. 
 
 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 witn prayer. Her anxiety of mind 
 is great, and her sickness dangerous. Such instruc- 
 tion 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 prepar- 
 ed to receive the Gospel. The room was full of old 
 and young, sick and well, good and bad. 
 
 On the generol management of the A!:nshouse, I 
 feel constrained to make a few remarks. I do not 
 censure the corporation of the city, or the present 
 superintendent, for he cannot be every where, to 
 manage every thing ; and he certainly attends to his 
 dnty with fidelity. The plan of the house is radi- 
 cally wrong. AH 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 dif- 
 ferent 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) yei many are allowed to ramble thron h 
 alt the apartments^ and many live entirely y> ith old 
 I 
 
8G 
 
 people. In some rooms, husbands and wives, with 
 children, and even unmarried persons sleep together. 
 Marriage is permitted in the Institution, because it 
 cannot be prevented, under existing circumstances, 
 to procreate a future race of paupers. 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 
 present ; and instead of one immense pile of build- 
 ings, there should be at least four, in as many sepa- 
 rate 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 connexion 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 department, 
 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 de- 
 cent 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 cf this 
 second Sodom. Every good man must pray, " Oh 
 
87 
 
 God ! If poverty be my lot, assign me not a resi- 
 dence 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 13th of 
 the present 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 com- 
 municated on a former visit ; for he wished more 
 perfectly to understand the ground of justification, 
 and the way of life. Again was proclaimed the sin- 
 ner's Hope ; again the glassy eyes, almost closed in 
 death, shed the full tear ; again we prayed, and again 
 he entreated me to renew my visit. But death will 
 come first. Whether he is to be saved or lost, is be- 
 yond human ken ; but where the Gospel is heard with 
 attention, and apparent faith in it, we may entertain 
 the fond persuasion, that it is the power of God unto 
 salvation. 
 
 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 become, now, so accustomed 
 to this confusion of dialecfs, that it does not disturb 
 my devotion. Nine persons are dangerously sick in 
 
€8 
 
 the room where I preached this morning. One Bf 
 them was well last Thursday evening, attended ser- 
 vice 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 sermon. 
 She is now burning with a fever. She i3 a widow of 
 good report, of amiable countenance, and of exem- 
 plary deportment. She has one little daughter of 
 about eight years of age. The poor-house has be- 
 come her home, in consequence of a " white swell- 
 ing' ' on one of her limbs, which is incurable, 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 hira 
 again. His knees bowed at his bed-side, while we 
 offered up such petitions as were deemed most ap- 
 propriate. 
 
 From him I turned to a Scotchman, in the same 
 room, who on the fourth day of this month com- 
 menced 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, *f the force of Solo- 
 mon's expressions, concerning i 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 liUle trifle, must have become a burthen." 
 
89 
 
 " Few and evil," he replied, " have the 3-ears of 
 my lite been." The old man was well acquainted 
 with the system of Christianity; and, indeed, 
 where will you find a native of Scotland, that U 
 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 be- 
 ing in Christ by faith ; and I trust it will be well 
 with you, when this time-eaten garment shall be laid 
 aside." 
 
 " 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, however." When I left him, he 
 thanked me for a little attention to " an auld mo:i." 
 While I was coming out, two other persons of seven- 
 ty years arose to pay their respects to me. One 
 was a taD, pale, hoary-headed man ; and the other 
 was blind. W r hen 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 diffi- 
 cult 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 de- 
 scending, and crossing the yard, I met not less tha-i 
 one hundred little children, without any one to re- 
 strain them, playing all manner of gambols, aikl 
 roaring like the young bears of the wilderness. 
 8 * 
 
90 
 
 Some of the older ones are catechized on the sab- 
 bath, by pious individuals, and the members of the 
 " Friendly Union Society," but these were under 
 five years of age ; and have become expert in mis- 
 chief. 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 afflu- 
 ent 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, 
 \hat 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 Richard Monday to the woi'k-house sent. 
 
 •' There was he pinch'd and pitied, thurap'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 way to all things base, 
 
 " He knew no shame, he dreaded no disgrace ; 
 
 " It seems so well his passions he supprest, 
 
 11 No feeling stirr'd his ever torpid breast ; 
 
 M 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, 
 
 u They us'd, on all occasions, Richard's hands." 
 
 In the afternoon, 1 had the pleasure of a clean 
 room in the Hospital, and attentive hearers. Many 
 of them are dying men, and under such circumstan- 
 ces, who would not be attentive ? It is a subject of 
 no small gratitude with me, that this Institution is 
 well managed ; that the superintendent, under the 
 
91 
 
 honourable governors, keeps his numerous family 
 in subjection ; and, so far a*j he is able, promotes the 
 spiritual, as well as temporal welfare of the patients. 
 In the Hospital, we are most deficient in that im- 
 portant part of worship, the singing of psalms and 
 hymns. I want such a clerk here as I have in the 
 Almshouse ; but since there is no such patient a3 
 George, I am happy to express my gratitude to Mr. 
 Henrf Crocker, for repeatedly leading in our 
 sacred songs. He has kindly volunteered his ser- 
 vices in many instances, and I trust the Lord will re- 
 ward him for his exertions to help the devotion of 
 the poor. 
 
 April 5th, 1812. 
 
 SINCE my last date, I have performed my usual 
 services to the poor, and wish it to.be understood, 
 that I shall regularly preach in the Almshouse 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 cer- 
 tainly are not devoid of commiseration, 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 
 purpose, visited the town cf E n, in the state of 
 
92 
 
 New- York, in the character, and as the vulgar would 
 think, in the attire of a fashionable lady. By ap- 
 pearances and professions, she imposed on the sim- 
 ple. She found a poor, ignorant widow, who had 
 many children, whom it was difficult for her to sup- 
 port ; 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 zjine lady ; and consented to part with 
 her child, that the deceiver might make her a city 
 chambermaid of distinction. The daughter was pro- 
 mised high wages, kind treatment, and easy service. 
 The mother was deluded ; the deceiver triumphed ; 
 the child was ruined. 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 A — W — 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 mo- 
 ther, absolutely locked her into her chamber, and by 
 force made her drunk with cordials. 
 
 Now the poor, miserable, seduced beh?g, is Iti the 
 Hospital, and apparently nigh to the grave. No mo- 
 ther is near to comfort her. She cannot read ihe 
 Bible. She has, however, and I bless God for ihe 
 
S3 
 
 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 be- 
 fore, 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 animat- 
 ing 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 to such wretches as 
 inhabit charitable Institutions. Let those, who are 
 ignorant of the efficacy of the living word and blood 
 of Christ, and who nevertheless deem, themselves 
 Christians, know assuredly, that there is mere 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 
 
 * Common use has rendered this name descriptive of a de- 
 graded female ; hut 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 he2d of Jesus. 
 
94 
 
 human. Lazarus, who probably knew nothing of the 
 modern demand for mercury, and the sores it pro- 
 duces, was not more afflicted than this woman. For 
 years past she has made merchandize of many, many 
 female boarders, but seeing the grief of A — W — , 
 and being affected at the situation of the country girl, 
 she said to me, " I am drawing near to the eternal 
 world ; but although I have encouraged many to con- 
 tinue 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 
 consolation, 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." 
 
 April 6th. 
 A — W — continues in the same state of body 
 and mind. She was convulsed with emotion ; wept 
 while I prayed for her; thanked me for my atten- 
 tion ; and seemed to think herself too vile to excite 
 even a fellow-sinner's commiseration. 
 
 April llh. 
 HOW it might have affected others I know not, 
 but to me it was an interesting sight to see a tall re- 
 spectable female of about fifty-five years brought in- 
 to our assembly in the Almshouse, by a compassion- 
 ate man, ihat she might hear the word of God. The 
 pbeuniatism has prevented the use of her limbs ; so 
 
9j 
 
 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*. 
 
 April 21s/. 
 THE most pitiable object, whom I have seen of 
 late, is an Irish woman, who is dangerously sick of a 
 fever in the Almshouse. She was a good mother, 
 and wife, before her husband deserted her ; and she 
 is a good mother still. From every one, who has 
 known her, I learn a favourable account of her mo- 
 ral 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 were cry- 
 
 * Tliis man had been visited with the palsy, but was now in the 
 possession of his usual strength. After the above date he fre- 
 quently performed the same service for the same pious woman. 
 Sometime in the winter of 1812 he was taken sick, with a second 
 attack of his 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 of- 
 fered to his acceptance, and after prayer 1 left liim weeping. A 
 few days after, he requested to see me, when I had been preach- 
 ing 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 were present to pray for him. This is the only instance in 
 which I have excused myself from any unpleasant 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 iu devotion. 
 
9& 
 
 ing 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 ! that drunkenness should, in this coun- 
 try, transform a generous and wildly enthusiastic son 
 of Erin into something worse than a brute ! In Hi- 
 bernia, it is probable that this same fellow would have 
 divided, his last potatoe with his superannuated 
 grandmother ; or would have shed his blood in de- 
 fence of his wife and children ; but here, where ar- 
 dent spirits are sold for six shillings by the gallon, 
 wife, children, relatives, and friends, may all go to 
 the Almshouse, or even to " potter's field," for a glass 
 of grog*. 
 
 April 25th. 
 AGAIN I have seen, beside many other sick pef* 
 Sons, the deserted Irish woman. She was found with 
 three children in one bed, in a room where were ma- 
 ny widows, or deserted females, in the same predica- 
 ment. 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 pre- 
 served from the putrid fever, it will astonish me. 
 For them she wept, and prayed to live> while seve- 
 ral of her acquaintance sobbed in unison. If any 
 situation can be imagined) which requires much 
 grace to enable one to resign life without a murmur, 
 
 * It is said thai a newly naturalized cii.izen t to induce some of 
 Lis countrymen to immigrate to this country, wrote to his fri< udg 
 " that in America & 0U& might get drunk twice for sixpence !'* 
 This is too true ! 
 
91 
 
 it is that of a deserted wife, who has little babes 
 gauging about her parched lips and panting bosom. 
 What will become of them, in this busy world, where 
 thousands might say in truth, " I looked oi; 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 16th. 
 SINCE the last introduction of the name of W— 
 R — 9 the blind boy, he has repeated, weekly, a 
 hymn ; and this evening more little children propos- 
 ed to follow his example than the writer could pa- 
 tiently hear. They had the promise of being at- 
 tended to at our next meeting, and were promised a 
 
 little book ; for the Rev. Mr. (now Dr.) P 1, had 
 
 presented a bundle of tracts, with Owen on the 
 130th Psalm, for the benefit of the poor. This re- 
 verend gentleman I have never seen, but 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, gratuitous y and 
 otherwise, a cheap edition of a book, which clearly 
 illustrates the doctrine of pardon. 
 
 May 19th. 
 
 " Thus must foul earth be purified by fire ! 
 
 11 Her guilty hosts in burning seas expire ! 
 
 " Thus must her dust, which drank her Maker*s blood ; 
 
 " Be wash'd 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 
 9 
 
98 
 
 oven ; in which all things in it shall be consumed 1 
 T\ bile on my way to the Almshouse, on the morning 
 of this^holy day, the cry of fire resounded from a 
 thousand tongues. The wind was unusually bois- 
 terous for a clear day, and the buildings in the vici- 
 nity of the fire were of wood. In a few moments, 
 many houses were enveloped in the general conflagra- 
 tion, 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 dreadful. 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 buildings took fire, and 
 for some time half of the city seemed to wait a fiery 
 doom. In the midst of this distress, I entered the 
 Almshouse. In the blind ward, one of my pious 
 
 hearers, blind P , was in a fit, and her room-mates 
 
 were crying aloud for her, 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 ! Oh ! 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 ex- 
 claimed, " our friend has come," who felt for me, and 
 hung 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. Din 
 ring the violence of the conflagration, I visited seve- 
 ral wards, and attempted to make use of the scene- 
 
99 
 
 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 fer- 
 vent heat. Before twelve o'clock they were suffi- 
 ciently composed to attend to a discourse, in which 
 they were taught to seek the best things, even du- 
 rable riches and righteousness. 
 
 Ten persons were confined to their beds in the 
 room in the Hospital which was this afternoon visit- 
 ed by the word of the Lord ; and one of them, who 
 seemed unusually tender upon religious subjects, told 
 rac In ^nnvprsation, that many had been the troubles 
 of his life, " but they are not worthy to be named . 
 for Pve deserved them all, and I think that they have 
 been for my good." He was born in England, bred 
 a brewer, and for some time past, had been a jour- 
 neyman at his trade in this city. On the first of May, 
 a time when half of the poor remove from one shed 
 to another, he was left houseless for the night. The 
 room which he had occupied, had been let to an., 
 other, 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 seat- 
 ed 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 which he found some money ; but could not make 
 good his retreat, without arousing his plundered 
 neighbour. The brewer gave him chase, and follow- 
 
100 
 
 ed him into a cellar. This is the last that he re- 
 members of the events of the night, but in the morn- 
 ing he was found alone, with a bruised head and a 
 broken leg. « It is all well, however," said he, 
 concluding his tale with a sigh, "for the suffer- 
 ings 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 sub- 
 urbs, 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 kU 
 discourses in a school room. At that time he preach- 
 ed under the patronage of the " Friendly Union So- 
 ciety," 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 wor-*& 
 ship in any place ; but have since given abundant tI 
 evidence, that they love all the ordinances of Christ's V 
 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 fur- 
 nish lights, and prepare for our reception ? He had 
 
101 
 
 cpened the gate before he had answered this ques- 
 tion, and would have drawn back to make some pre- 
 vious 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 deno- 
 mination, who love our Lord Jesus Christ." He 
 asked the question, it afterwards appeared, because 
 he and the owner of the property were of the num- 
 ber of those lately proscribed beings, praying Church- 
 men. 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 co- 
 vers, 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, butblesset be God, I'm alive," 
 9 * 
 
102 
 
 " 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 o' things : but dis blesset 
 book is wort more as all de rest. It make me feel 
 better as all de rest. So long as I keep dis, I con- 
 tent." 
 
 With all the animation of Uncle Toby, when he 
 said of the sick soldier, " he sha'n't die ;" but with- 
 out 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, putting his hand into the 
 pocket, " you sha'n't be houseless." She replied, 
 «< O a sister in the church has promised to 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 enteA 
 
 * I have since had the pleasure to learn, that the discourse which 
 was then delivered, was not without fruit in the hearts of others, 
 
103 
 
 May 24th. 
 
 THE fire has greatly increased the population in 
 my dominions. This evening the doors were open 
 into three wards in the Almshouse, so that many 
 more than usual listened to my discourse. It was a 
 solemn evening to many, and God grant that the per- 
 sons burned out of home, may derive some spiritual 
 advantage from the affliction. 
 
 May 26th. 
 
 IT is not unusual in this world for men to get out 
 of one unpleasant situation into another. At the in- 
 stigation of several paupers, who could not find seats 
 at our last meeting in the Almshouse, I consented to 
 preach this morning in the school-room of the Insti- 
 tution. It is situated in the yard ; and I had enter- 
 tained 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 a new 
 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 without top and brim, and 
 his feet were bare. Designing that he should assist 
 me at the Hospital, I had thought it necessary to 
 beg him a hat, from a young man, a blue broadcloth 
 
104 
 
 coat, of middle age, from W — S — , and to furnish 
 him with pantaloons, a vest, and shirts. His appear- 
 ance now corresponds very well with the profession of 
 clerk to the stated preacher to the poor. He sung 
 more cheerfully than ever. The Irish woman, whose 
 case I stated on the fi 1st of April, was present, with 
 her babe in her arms, to dve thanks for her recove- 
 ry, and beg a catechism, that she might 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 over, many surrounded him, and he 
 sung solemn songs for the space of an hour. The 
 stolen country girl, A. W. attended my discourse 
 with many tears. She lives, beyond the^ expecta- 
 tion of all who know her case. One of her com- 
 panions, P , who is now recovering the second 
 
 time, has for months regarded religious instructions 
 with a lively interest ; and seemed to be quite de- 
 lighted 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 1 9th inst. ap- 
 plication was made for the use of the Irish Church 
 on sabbath evenings, 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 satis- 
 faction of a yery attentive audience. 
 
105 
 
 May 30th. 
 
 ON returning from the Churchman's lecture 
 worn this evening, a very judicious woman informed 
 the writer, that one of her acquaintance turned in to 
 hear his discourse in the Irish church, who had ne- 
 ver 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 
 
 olio -rf»ll Lv»., 1 —.fj n^ vuiiuutroo w mcatfl 
 
 within her reach." If one such heedless sinner 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 
 ether imperious circumstances will permit. May 
 God speed his own word. 
 
 May 31st 
 Again I have proclaimed salvation to the poor in 
 the Almshouse, 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 complain. He has afflicted me for good." She 
 
106 
 
 is destitute of near relates. Her only child, a 
 
 dutiful sou, the last of her kindred, died suddenly 
 
 in a fit, not long before she entered the Almshouse, 
 
 and with him fell every earthly confidence. God 
 
 has been her support ; Christ her refuge. 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 
 
 circumstances, but who has good hope through 
 
 grace, should desire heaven, is equally natural. 
 
 Grace becomes so much a part of the renewed man, 
 thai irom a new nature, ne veij uauu-*uiy aesires iu 
 
 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 Ca- 
 naan, launch into the dusky Jordan, 
 
 Jane 2nd. 
 Instead of delivering a regular discourse in the 
 Hospital to-day, I visited eight wards, gave a short 
 exhortation in each, and prayed with the patients. 
 Miserable and sinful as most of these beings are, 
 they are not the most insensible of the human fami- 
 ly. 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 enter- 
 ed the ward of forlorn hope, and no male 
 
 hearers were present to stimulate them to impu- 
 dence, by way of defence against their own sensa- 
 tion of shame, they were as attentive as any audi- 
 
107 
 
 ence 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 youno, emales have frequented my lectures 
 in the Almshouse, who belong to the city. Who 
 they are I know not ; but I have observed for some 
 months past, that the same faces are present. 
 There is reason to believe, that they are ashamed 
 to appear in any other congregation 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 without 
 the walls of the Institution, from want of a more 
 convenient 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 8th. 
 A short narration of my future visits may give a 
 specimen of my past conduct, for I thi:k, in defi- 
 ance of censure, 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 
 said, what he did on the last sabbath, that he desir- 
 ed nothing so much as this life ; and the third, a ve- 
 ry intelligent man, thought his case hopeless. Once 
 he thought he knew the Lord, but now he appre- 
 hends that there remaineth no more sacrifice for his 
 sins, because he has trodden under foot the blood of 
 the Son of God. 
 
108 
 
 Four wards in the Almshouse have also been 
 visited with instruction and prayer. Particularly I 
 sought some, who had been sent from the Hospital, 
 irod r the dreadful sentence of " incurable cases." 
 I found two. One, M — B — , so soon as she saw 
 me, caKed me by name, and put forth her withered 
 hand, which one, who remembered 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 ha3 lived twelve years in notorious licentious- 
 ness. 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 confesses that she has 
 been well instructed, was of a good family, has re- 
 sisted great light, and abused all divine mercies. 
 For three months past, she thinks that the eyes of 
 her mind have been open to behold the light of 
 truth. Prayer is her delight. ,Her greatest pre- 
 sent trouble, not excepting absolute confinement t© 
 her bed, arises from her belief that she does not 
 feel so deeply her own vileness as she ought. She 
 has no expectation of recovery; and she wishes 
 that God may never permit her to arise again, un- 
 less 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 per- 
 son, whom I found, was A— W — , in an adjoining 
 
109 
 
 room. She lay in the middle of it, surrounded by 
 about thirty as miserable as herself. She was glad 
 to sf e 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 in- 
 describable. 
 
 June 9th, 
 
 My brethren, who have polite congregations, find 
 no difficulty in gaining assistance from transient 
 ministers; and to-day I have succeeded for the 
 fourth time in obtaining " a labour of love." Of 
 course I had to preach only twice on the present 
 sabbath. The man whose chief desire 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 
 cannot retard his advancing steps. This man must 
 die, and to-morrow will present him before the tri- 
 bunal of God. 
 
 J B , the person who yesterday thought 
 
 his case hopeless, does not doubt the truth of di\;ne 
 promises, but their application to his case. This is 
 a common temptation in the Christian family. 
 When I asked him what be would pray for, might 
 he offer two petitions with the assurance of being 
 heard, he said, " I would first pray to be received 
 into the kingdom of heaven, and then, to be restor- 
 ed to health." 
 
 10 
 
110 
 
 June 10th. 
 
 Early this morning, he who clung to life was 
 compelled to relinquish his hold. Even so expires 
 a drowning 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 mo- 
 ment ?" 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 pro- 
 claimed Jesus Christ, the Savionr. In my presence 
 were three persons, whom I have known to be bed- 
 rid ever since I first visited the Almshouse. Two 
 pious women were brought in the arms of some com- 
 passionate men. A fine little boy repeated a hymn, 
 and having received a cent, thought it ample com- 
 pensation 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 edifica- 
 tion. She is lingering on the verge of time, is full 
 of humble confidence in Christ, and by faith looks 
 steadfastly into the eternal world. 
 
 After public worship was concluded, I visited 
 twelve persons, who are old and full of pains. One 
 was an Irishman, of excellent understanding, who 
 
Ill 
 
 is well acquainted with the doctrines of the Gospel, 
 and apparently with Jesus crucified ; but the most 
 
 affecting object was one W 1, 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 I know that I am vile. I have 
 ruined myself. I have been, besides committing 
 other sins, a drunken carman for nineteen years." 
 
 " Do you know how you can be saved ?" 
 
 " If I should live, I hope God will enable me io 
 reform, and lead a better life." 
 
 " But should you die to-night, what would be- 
 come of your soul ? Do you know of any way in 
 which a rebel man can be justified, and saved from 
 hell?" 
 
 " No; I should have no hope; but upon my 
 word and honour I ivant 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 followed me with great exer- 
 tion and emotion. Sometimes he faltered, then 
 
112 
 
 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- 
 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 
 expressive gesticulation that he desired prayers. 
 Once or twice he attempted to repeat the words of 
 my address, but I could only distinguish, in a whis- 
 per, 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 ac- 
 knowledge, which makes me shrink back from disa- 
 greeable duties, and desire, in a moment of gloom, 
 to depart from a world in which I have found abun- 
 dant sin, disappointment, and misery ; but whether 
 this poor woman's resignation is of the right kind or 
 not, I will not pretend to determine. 
 
113 
 
 June 11th. 
 
 Today, W — t and B — e, have appeared before 
 God. 
 
 This afternoon I have visited two wards of the 
 Hospital, 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 convinced that it is safe to trust him- 
 self anew to Christ for pardon and salvation. 
 Those who have not received lucid instructions 
 upon the doctrise of justification, who have not 
 been taught a thousand times, that the sole ground 
 of their salvation is without them, are liable to per- 
 petual 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 attempt- 
 ing to make his imperfect personal righteousness an- 
 swer that purpose for which the righteousness of 
 Christ alone is sufficient. No sinner ever ought to 
 perform a commanded duty, or desire the lively ex- 
 ercise of any Christian grace, with the expectation 
 or design of securing heaven, even in part, by his 
 obedience. He must be pious from some other mo 
 tive, or he will dishonour the mediatorial work of 
 Jesus Christ, 
 
 10 # 
 
114 
 
 J B continues to spit blood, and must 
 
 soon die. He knows it too, and discovered that so- 
 licitude 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 con- 
 solation, with that repentance which is unto life, but 
 when I came to that part which speaks of the re- 
 moval of the healing plant, and the death of the 
 toad, from the sting of the spider, he exclaimed, 
 " and that will be my case !" It was in vain I told 
 him, 
 
 ■' 'Tis here the happy difference lies, 
 
 " My Saviour reigns above the skies, 
 
 " Yet to my soul is always near, 
 
 " For he is God and every where. 
 
 vt His blood a sovereign balm is found 
 
 •* For every grief and every wound ; 
 
 i( 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, 
 
 * f Become the source of endless nisrht ; 
 
 f* And ruin spread from pole to pole, 
 
 M Than Jesus fail the tempted soul.'' 
 
 One man, C — O — , 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 
 Ions; 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 
 
113 
 
 taught to repeat those words ; but no man ever pray- 
 ed for mercy, 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 question was proposed, " do you doubt of the 
 truth of the Bible ?" 
 
 He assured me that he did not ; but thought it 
 very difficult for any one to know that he possessed 
 true religion. He was " brought up" in the fami- 
 ly of the late Rev. Mr. Little, of his native place, 
 " to a religious life," and thought, until lately, that 
 he had " a good deal of religion ;" but now he doubt- 
 ed whether he hrd ever possessed 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 country. 
 In all the places where 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 reli- 
 gious society, 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. 
 
116 
 
 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 
 hone. The Lord Jesus Christ is the only founda- 
 tien 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 evi- 
 dence of such vital union, by faith, to the Lord Je- 
 sus Christ, as ensures salvation ; but it is in no case 
 the reason why we are united to the Redeemer, and 
 justified through his blood ; for then it must have in- 
 fluence before its existence, and supplant the merito- 
 rious services of the Saviour." 
 
 It was stated to the sick man, that his late defec- 
 tion was calculated to make him seriously question 
 the genuineness 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 follow- 
 ed by contrition, godly fear, and diligence in the per- 
 formance of religious duties, is vain. 
 
 The stated preacher has invariably insisted on the 
 necessity of repentance, as well as faith, in all his in* 
 tercourse 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 savingly believes the testimony of God, con- 
 cerning 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," 
 
117 
 
 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 in- 
 habitants of his native town, he asked if several of 
 his early acquaintance had become persons of reli- 
 gious character. When he was answered in the af- 
 firmative, concerning many of them, it appeared to 
 afford him g;reat 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 the sincerity of his faith, the 
 transforming efficacy of the love of Christ. 
 
 June 1 4th. 
 
 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 coversation with J — J — , who is thirty years 
 of age, according 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. 
 
118 
 
 " Has no one ever instructed you in religion?'* 
 
 He had heard people say that men could be sav- 
 ed, but he could not think how. This lead me to 
 preach Christ to him ; and since he had been a sai- 
 lor, to explain familiarly the doctrine of substitution. 
 I asked if he had ever seen one man tied up to the 
 shrouds for another ? " That I have seen ; and known 
 him flogged too !" 
 
 " Yet it was by his own consent." 
 
 " O 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." 
 "£H1 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 peace ; 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, because Christ was punished in 
 their place" 
 
 " That is true ; but do you think that any one 
 who trusts in Christ for salvation from sin, would con- 
 sent to sin, because Jesus had suffered death for 
 him ?" He thought " that would not stand to rea- 
 son." 
 
 Then I told him the consequence of knowing the 
 way of life, only to reject it. 
 
 He confessed, that he had always been very wick- 
 ed, and asserted that no one had ever " taught him 
 
119 
 
 about religion," but row he thought that he should 
 " attend to it with his might ; for such a thing 
 ougfU 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 Almshouse, to a 
 
 crowded 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 residence here below, 
 and perhaps exchange it for one eternal in the hea- 
 vens. 
 
 June 16th. 
 AFTER public worship in the Almshouse, I vi« 
 sited four wards, gave an exhortation in each, and 
 prayed with the sick in three of them. My gra- 
 cious God, what a scene of misery do thine eyee 
 behold ! How great must be the wickedness of a 
 fallen world, which the Heavenly Father chas- 
 tises with so much wretchedness, as even I discern I 
 
 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 speak ; but made me understand that 
 he desired to unite in prayer. He has ever been a 
 
120 
 
 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 up- 
 on 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 adverj 
 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 females. 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 A — W- — . 
 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 letters A. W. which 
 have apparently been made since the first. She told 
 me that she could not expect to recover; 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 fee! 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 
 
121 
 
 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 ask- 
 ed M — if I should pray with them, this poor thing, 
 who had been listening, cried out with great earnest- 
 ness, "Odo! do, Sir!" After prayer, I turned my 
 attention to her; and her cheeks were of scarlet; 
 her lips were pale ; she trembled ; but closed her 
 eyes as in the sleep of death, and could not be per- 
 suaded to answer a word. 
 
 I went into one of the Hospital rooms, w here Mrs. 
 B — , the nurse, is a mother to the sick ; and where 
 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 clays. So soon as she perceived 
 me, she stretched out both hands, and called to me, 
 with the overflowing of tearful joy. 
 
 " How came you here ?" was the first question 
 which 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 wonderfully supported me. My 
 sister is still living where yon saw her, and trying 
 io support herself" 
 
 " So your sister stili lives in the cellar ; but do 
 U 
 
122 
 
 those ladies who assisted you last winter know where 
 you are ?" 
 
 They were ignorant, she said, of her present si- 
 tuation ; and they had helped her so long, that she 
 was willing they should remain ignorant. 
 
 " My blessed Saviour," said the weeping sha- 
 dow, 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 be- 
 stow such grace as will support me under all circum- 
 stances. 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 10th 
 instant. At first she thought me the attending phy- 
 sician, 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 perceived that she was draw- 
 
123 
 
 ing near the close of this life, and expressed my per- 
 suasion that she would soon be gone. " O yes, Sir, 
 I be glad, should my blessed Lord, come soon and 
 fetch me 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 brothers, and sisters.'' The writer 
 asked if she spake of her relatives. 
 
 She replied, " u O ! all of them in heaven are my 
 friends and relatives. I should be glad to be there ; 
 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 de- 
 light. 
 
 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 important lesson, of do- 
 ing much good at a little expense. She comes to the 
 Almshouse, 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 
 answer^ I will give you one cent ; and when you 
 
124 
 
 have learned five more, I will give you another cent ; 
 whkb will buy the book.'* 
 
 The lad consents ; she calls again to hear him re- 
 peat 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 religious book, to a circle 
 of old women, who were much gratified by her 
 enunciation in that broad dialect, which was na- 
 tural to them, but which I could scarcely understand. 
 
 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, follow- 
 ed me from room to room, until, in the last, I turned 
 my attention particularly to him ; but even then he 
 remained in solemn silence. 
 
 In the last ward which I visited, I found one J— - 
 B — , aged fifty-four years, who had been attending 
 my lectures, and who appeared to be deeply impress- 
 ed. I found him, as I found many in this well-regu- 
 lated 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 ?" 
 
1'20 
 
 " No Sir, for whosoever beUevethon him shall not 
 be ashamed. If it was not for that I should sink 
 into despair, for I have been examining, and find 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 anger produce every in- 
 stance of murder which actually exists." 
 
 " / have broken tliat commandment in that sense, 
 but I never really wished to kill any man" 
 
 " Wei!, do you know how a sinner can be sav- 
 ed?" He had the Bible open at the 10th chapter 
 of Romans, and said, " / 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, " trou- 
 bles me ; the scriptures 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 mc 
 that judicious 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. 
 
 J R arose and walked the room, saying 
 
 with great emotion, " O if I could mourn for my 
 11 * 
 
126 
 
 sins as I 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 accept you." 
 
 " True Sir, I should merit nothing, if I should 
 be in agony all the rest of my life, but I feel that I 
 ought to mourn." 
 
 In this manner he mourned that he could not 
 mourn ; but, alas ! 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 ISth. 
 THIS evening I preached in the Almshouse, 
 heard two children repeat hymns, visited old Mr. 
 L — se, and received from one of the poor, helpless 
 women, a bunch of roses, which was all that she 
 could give in testimony of her gratitude. To have 
 rejected it, would have been unkind indeed. Dur- 
 ing service, which was in the blind room, a blind 
 methodist preacher offered one of the prayers. 
 His language was proper, and I trust his heart sin- 
 cere, but I lamented that he was so vociferous as re- 
 ally to pain my auditory nerves. Why cannot 
 Ihese good people use the natural language of fervour 
 and respect, without unnatural vociferation ? Is 
 their God afar off? Or is he deaf? Or is he 
 moved by such excessive noise as indicates almost 
 every thing but respect ? 
 
127 
 
 June 19th. 
 
 To-day I have visited seven wards in the Hospi- 
 tal. Some with eager looks followed me from room 
 to room, that they might hear of Jesus, crucified for 
 the sins of men. 
 
 C — O — says that when he is full of pain, he 
 desires to die for two reasons ; first, from a desire to 
 be free from pair., and secondly, from fear that such 
 a poor sinner as he is, will never be better prepared. 
 
 With J R I conversed again. Taking 
 
 off his hat, and looking up with the deepest rever- 
 ence, he said, " I declare Sir, in the presence of 
 God, who I think hears me, that I think I am the 
 vilest sinner in this Hospital." 
 
 This R 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 pro- 
 gress in the knowledge of the scriptures is certainly 
 wonderful. 
 
 With one Wm. H — on, who is far £one in the 
 consumption, 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 new I found him anxious about 
 the salvation of his soul. He tells me that his at- 
 tention was first excited the other day, by my con- 
 
128 
 
 versing and praying with H — on. Now the young 
 man feels that he is a sinner, and bewails it bitterly* 
 In shprt, I have considerable hope concerning five 
 or six, who are now patients in this place. But, alas ? 
 the greater part, will hear from respect to me, who 
 care not a rush for Christ. 
 
 With a Roman Catholic patient I reasoned. He 
 was ready to confess his sins, he said ; and demand- 
 ed of me, "what follows ?" " If you truly and hum- 
 bly confess your sins to God, pardon follows, as 
 God's free gift. 11 
 
 " I confess my sins to my priest" said he, " and 
 when I confess to him I confess to God." 
 
 This is a Catholic of more than ordinary informa- 
 tion ; but the other day 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 Jar- 
 vis, who has experienced many reverses of fortune, 
 as the world is pleased to say ; but who, two years 
 ago, after he was seventy year3 of age, was found 
 hy 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 v/ill 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," 
 
129 
 
 June 21st. 
 
 THIS morning I have visited four wards of the 
 Hospital, and could, had I time, relate much inter- 
 esting conversation. Captain Jarvis talks, and ap- 
 pears 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 any place : but in another room I said to 
 the dying K — 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." 
 
 " Well, I hope your sickness will be sanctified to 
 rou." 
 
 " Sir," said the sick man, roughly, " when I 
 want a priest I will send for one. We are of differ- 
 ent religions. " 
 
 This is the first open repulse, that I ever receiv- 
 ed from any one of the patients. I assured him, 
 that I claimed no risht 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 re- 
 pentance toward God, and faith in the Lord Jesus 
 Christ. With these words I left him; but he 
 •;ould not help railing at me, for saying to another, 
 
130 
 
 without a thought of hurting the feelings of any one, 
 " that all the men on earth could not forgive a sin- 
 gle sin." 
 
 June 22nd. 
 
 To-day Captain Jarvis went home. The Catho- 
 lic who was well disposed, and who thought yester- 
 day 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 Almshouse, in 
 the hearing of the soldier's friend, and many other 
 afflicted persons. 
 
 June 23rd. 
 
 Many of the inhabitants of the Almshouse fol- 
 lowed 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 tempora- 
 ry absence, which has been announced 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 ser- 
 vice 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 evening. The nurses and patients 
 treat him with great attention, and seem pleased to 
 give him a portion of their good things. They 
 ought, truly, to communicate to him of their food, 
 
131 
 
 for one says, " George, will you sing this hymn? 5 ' 
 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 conso- 
 lation of the sick ; and not unfrequentiy 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 de- 
 part, for a season, is a matter of reluctance, because 
 many will probaby die without instruction. When 
 one sick man is addressed, many listen ; and in the 
 course of a few days, not unfrequentiy some one of 
 them desires " that minister" to be called, who late- 
 ly visited his companions. In this manner, new ap- 
 plicants for spiritual treasures are procured, who 
 would otherwise, most commonly, die in stupidity. 
 
 Even so died, annually, not less than two hun- 
 dred persons, in these two Institutions, before there 
 was any establishment of a stated ministry for their 
 benefit. 
 
 " But are our efforts only to be directed to the 
 heathen ? Do they alone need our aid ? From dif- 
 ferent parts of our city cries reach us in the lan- 
 guage of the man of Macedonia, < 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 providence 
 have been deprived of them. They feel their 
 wants the more sensibly, because they know from 
 
132 
 
 past experience the value of divine ordinances. 
 Their case is painful; 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 ce- 
 lestials minister, and who are fellow-heirs with Christ 
 in glory. I state the facts : I use no arguments : I 
 leave the result with your consciences, your hearts, 
 and your Godf." 
 
 Were Christians solicitous as they should be to 
 evince their faith to the world by their works, were 
 they mindful 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. 
 
 " 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, 
 
 fr Dr. Homeyn's Sermon before the Committee of Missions. 
 [' Dr. Ma30n's Sermon on Living Fail!', 
 
133 
 
 " 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. Steell. 
 
 Lord's Day, July 23/fc. 
 
 ON Thursday last I returned to this city, after 
 having been absent four sabbaths, and on Friday vi- 
 sited both the institutions in which I labour. 
 
 Were a representation of the lively joy which was 
 manifested on this occasion to be attempted, I should 
 undoubtedly 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 recep- 
 tion. 
 
 In the morning of this day I preached in the 
 Almshouse 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, fol- 
 lowed 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, sometimes 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 
 Almshouse excepting the blind clerk and his leader. 
 - An English blood was one of the hearers in the 
 Hospital, who was brought in to have a broken knee 
 12 
 
134 
 
 made whole. He has a fine countenance, and one 
 who was ignorant 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 
 pecuniary resourced, and completely devoid of prin- 
 ciple. 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. Unw r orthiness 
 is often discovered, when the heart says, " it is too 
 late !" and when the dev elopement of character pre- 
 sents a feeble obstruction to the indulgence of that 
 passion which has become dominant in the soul. 
 This young woman must have imagined her pretend- 
 ed lover worthy, when she first indulged a partiality 
 for him ; and perhaps she thought that his face 
 could not be the index of dishonourable character. 
 
 When she arrived in America, (according to pre- 
 concert between them, I believe,) she had property 
 and he had none; and being disposed to secure a 
 little fortune, with little trouble, he was united to her 
 in the solemn bands of wedlock, by a Reverend 
 gentleman, who can attest the fact. 
 
 It might have been expected, that from this day, 
 according 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 pro- 
 perty, before the night of the day of their marriage, 
 sailed on a mercantile expedition to one of the 
 southern islands, where he contrived to squander 
 the four or five thousand dollars, which he had ob- 
 tained by a sort of connubial swindling. 
 
135 
 
 After some time lie returned to this city, anil 
 avoided seeing the woman whom he had deeply in- 
 jured. He boarded in a respectable family, and 
 sought to gain the affections of another young lady, 
 whom he persuaded himself that he loved to despe- 
 ration. 
 
 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 denied ; 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 promised, by all that was sa- 
 cred, to ride with his keeper peaceably to the place 
 of destination. Behold, now, the value of this ex- 
 clamation, " 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 fugi- 
 tive 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 
 
136 
 
 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 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 V 1 
 
 Falconer. 
 
 August 1st, 
 EIGHT wards of the Hospital have been visited 
 to-day, in such a parochial way, as I suppose all 
 faithful pastors visit the families of their congrega- 
 tions. My own motives I shall not presume to state, 
 for my readers would be dependent on the testimo- 
 ny of one person concerning himself; but this may 
 be asserted, and I trust accredited, that more appa- 
 rent good has resulted from personal conversations, 
 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 important 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." 
 
137 
 
 When a few personal questions are proposed to a 
 patient, he feels like that man, who was the only au- 
 ditor of a clergyman on a rainy sabbath, that the 
 doctrine must be intended for himself, and not for 
 others. The circumstance 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. 
 
 In one of the wards, an aged woman, whom all 
 denominate " grandmother," was yet alive, while a 
 sweet little child, which the Almoners of the Dor- 
 cas Society found half starved in a garret, clothed, 
 and placed in the Hospital, was dead. This So- 
 ciety is of modern origin; and has already done 
 much good. The members of it deserve an honour- 
 able 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. Frcni 
 unfeigned respect to the ladies of this charity, the 
 writer begs then* 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. 
 
 * Several previous parts of this journal were published in the 
 Christians' Magazine, and these lines Avere, by the politeness of 
 Mr Lewis, at a later date, inserted in " the Commercial Ad- 
 vertiser." 
 
 12 # 
 
138 
 
 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 mad 
 
 To perish with the cold. 
 
 When the first pair of human race 
 
 Knew exigence by sin, 
 A sacrifice prefigur'd grace,- 
 
 And coats were made of skin. 
 
 He makes the flaxen herbage grow ; 
 
 lie 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. 
 
139 
 
 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 mooi% 
 
 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 searching 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 sick man, 
 whose wife supported her husband's head on the 
 next couch. What I said to this person was as 
 much designed for the Englishman as himself ; but 
 I avoided the appearance of knowing any thing 
 about the latter. When I was turning 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 utter- 
 ed in a soft tone, and with a pleasingly pensive coun- 
 tenance. 
 
140 
 
 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 therefore do not imagine that I 
 reproach you, from any disposition to say, ' God, I 
 thank thee, that 1 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 base- 
 
 ness 
 
 " 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 tmbark'd upon the deep.'* 
 
 " You appear to be of my age, and I presume, 
 in relation to worldly prospects, have seen better 
 days.. May your latter end be better than the be- 
 ginning 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, which lieth in wickedness.' I 
 have tasted of the Litter cup of disappointment, 
 vexation, sorrow, and anguish, because, through my 
 whole life, I have been a sinner. Let me tejl you, 
 friend, that all your troubles are the effects afcd due 
 punishments of your own wickedness." 
 
141 
 
 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 yield- 
 ed to almost every temptation. 
 
 " Now, then, you have time for reflection. c 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 sufferings will be of 
 no use, and all, even the soul, will be lost for ever." 
 
 After much confusion of face he recovered confi- 
 dence, and diverted the discourse from personal ap- 
 plications of truth, to doctrinal discussion. He 
 proposed many questions about the nature of re- 
 pentance, the certainty of divine forgiveness, and 
 the evidences of a future judgment. 
 
 Repentance, in general, was stated to be such a 
 change in a person's perceptions as is inseparably 
 connected with regret for past conduct and a deter- 
 mination to pursue a different course in future. 
 Repentance relates to our own actions ; for I may 
 lament the misconduct of others, but can never re- 
 pent for their transgressions. Evangelical, or sav- 
 ing repentance, is such a change in a person's per- 
 ceptions of evangelical truth, as is inseparably con- 
 nected with regret for past sin, hatred of it, and so- 
 lemn purpose of new obedience. From an appre- 
 hension of the mercy of God in Christ, the penitent 
 feels the complex emotion of hatred against all un- 
 belief, and of earnest desire to live a life of faith 
 on the Son of God. This change of mind will 
 produce a corresponding alteration in the external 
 conduct. 
 
142 
 
 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 scrip- 
 tures. 
 
 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 Governor of the universe ac- 
 cording 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 right- 
 eousness." 
 
 The same young man argued in favour of a state 
 of insensibility between death and the resurrection, 
 w because," he said, " none can be miserable until 
 they are condemned." He had forgotten that un- 
 believers " are condemned already," that the whole 
 family of Adam is subjected to partial punishment in 
 the present life, in consequence of the universal con- 
 demnation, and that future sufferings will be nothing 
 more than the protracted vengeance of the original 
 curse. The day of final judgment will rather wit- 
 ness 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 assured that they shall remain " filthy still," 
 and " go away into everlasting punishment." If it 
 remains sfJll to be decided, whether men shall come 
 under the sentence of condemnation, why do they 
 
143 
 
 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 ? 
 
 Many of the common arguments against the slum- 
 ber 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, 
 pleasing manners, and many personal accomplish- 
 ments, should marry Jo 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 mo- 
 ment, and traduce his lawful wife, by saying that he 
 had, during courtship, kept her as his mistress, ex- 
 hibits in strong colours the odious depravity of un- 
 sanctified human nature. 
 
 I next visited the room where I was accustomed 
 to see the old sailor, J — R — . 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, the renewed man might 
 not, when tempted, and in a measure deserted, per- 
 petrate. With much solemnity he wished to know 
 what was the sin of blasphemy against the Holy 
 
141 
 
 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 the Holy Ghost; in which a person desirous 
 of destroying experimental religion, imputes, contra- 
 ry to the dictates of his own conscience, the divine 
 operations in the performance of miracles, or in con- 
 vincing, converting, and sanctifying sinners to the 
 devil, or some devilish priestcraft. 
 
 This sin R — thought that he had not committed, 
 but said, with tears streaming from his eyes, " I sin 
 so enormously and so repeatedly, that I fear there is 
 no mercy for me. When I hear you preach I be- 
 lieve what you say, and last Sunday I wanted to 
 hide myself, and cry my fill ; 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 great- 
 ness of your sin cannot exclude, you from heaven, if 
 you truly believe and repent." 
 
 " Sir, I confess," said R — , falling on his knees, 
 — " confess not to me, for I am a sinner !" — " Sir, 
 I confess to God, that I am the vilest, hell-deserving 
 sinner, and I pray God to lake away my sius." 
 
 His attitude, his tears, his unaffected agony of 
 soul, accompanied with the conviction, that in spite 
 of the terrors of the Lord he would yield to the 
 dominion of ardent spirits, made me tremblingly ask 
 
145 
 
 myself, " Lord, what is man V* Were it not for the 
 habit of intemperance, might not this sinner enter 
 the kingdom of heaven ? 
 
 J — R— was now gone, not to the grave as most 
 seamen do, before they have floated half the number 
 of his days, but to the city, and I fear will soon ar- 
 rive at one world of spirits, which will prove an aw- 
 ful prelude to the other. In his place, I found a 
 respectable, white-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 his language was this. 
 
 " I am an old man : I have travelled much ; and 
 particularly in the Southern part of our country. 
 There people call me a fatalist, because I maintain 
 that God convinces of sin, God works faith, God 
 pardons, God justifies, 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 1 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 consolation is, that if God intends 
 to save me, he will not suffer me to sin, so as firmly 
 to fall away. The reason why people call me a fa- 
 blist is because they are Arminians," 
 13 
 
146 
 
 With much similar doctrine and language the old 
 man spake for nearly half an hour, and then fell 
 hack 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 founda- 
 tion of the new Almshouse. The corner-stone was 
 {aid Gn this 1st day of August, A. D. 1811. 
 
 The new building will be erected a few miles from 
 the city, in an airy situation, near the east river. It 
 Is to be much larger than the present, and divided 
 in such a manner as to prevent all improper inter- 
 course between the paupers. It will also contain a 
 chapel for public worship, in which I hope some one, 
 or many, will preach the Gospel of salvation to the 
 poor. 
 
 The honourable corporation of this city have de- 
 served the applause of their fellow-citizens for lay- 
 ing the corner-stone of an edifice, which will, in the 
 opinion of every benevolent man, be a more distin- 
 guished ornament of this metropolis than the beauti- 
 ful marble hall of justice. The latter is the finest 
 structure in our country ; 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 
 antograph of some venerable clergyman. 
 
 " What is our world but an Alsmhouse and an 
 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 T 
 
147 
 
 Who from the heavens poureth down daily bom: 
 ties 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 boun- 
 ties to the use and ornament of man ? Who hath 
 ordained to us life, and health, and friendships, and 
 employments, and profits, and riches ? Are not all 
 these, in measure and sort best suited to our condi- 
 tion, poured out from the store-house of God's infi- 
 nite fulness ? Do they not fall as alms upon impo- 
 tent, impoverished, and needy mortals here below ? 
 Surely we are all receivers of alms. God is the 
 Grand Almoner of the universe. Angels 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 spar- 
 kle 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 re- 
 cipients of alms. They deserved them not, they 
 
148 
 
 procured them not, they retained them not. Can 
 less be said of your congregation at the Almshouse ? 
 They are only stripped of what once they were, 
 from the free bounty of heaven. They have lived 
 upon the Almshouse from their birth ; and so have 
 we, and so has every man. If you are ashamed to 
 preach at the Almshouse 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 
 fulness, astonished at thy goodness, and are hum- 
 bled at the sight of our emptiness ! 
 
 " Your Almshouse then is an epitome of the Uni- 
 verse ! All dependent, all needy, all provided for 1 
 What then is the Hospital ? It is a commentary on 
 the Almshouse. 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 in- 
 habitants 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, 
 
149 
 
 healing the sick, and promoting the happiness of 
 needy mortals. 
 
 August 2nd. 
 
 THIS afternoon was devoted to the visiting of 
 six wards in the Almshouse. 
 
 The guardian of the sick soldier has revived a lit- 
 tle, and has left the institution. From the room, in 
 which she lay, several have lately been carried to 
 the grave. In another ward I found A — TV — still 
 alive, but more emaciated 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 ; for she appears 
 to be a friend to Jesus. It was M — B — , who has 
 gained considerable flesh, and who has new some 
 hope of restoration to health ; but who gives as much 
 evidence 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 nc- 
 tice in my record of Jan. 1st, exclaimed, " there 
 comes my Christian friend again. O Sir, stop, I 
 want to hear you talk ; j 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 nay, that lie 
 had died/or her particularly and personally; and 
 asked how she knew it. 
 
 " By the spirit he has given me ; ,J was her reply, 
 H for if God had' n't given his Son to die for me, he 
 WotddVt have given me such faith and hope, and 
 13 * 
 
150 
 
 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 po- 
 verty, and bodily pain." 
 
 Had I talked to this woman about Christ's dying 
 for sin in gereral, and not particularly to redeem the 
 persons of believers, I think she would not have un* 
 derstood me. 
 
 In the blind ward I found Wm. Mc D — , an old 
 man, blind ever since his remembrance, turning out 
 button-moulds. Commonly he is found at this busi- 
 ness ; for he is allowed the profits of his labour. He 
 purchases huck-bones of the cooks, splits them with 
 a hatchet, and prepares them by boiling, to come un- 
 der the operation of his turning machine. He can 
 make two gross in a day ; 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 cutting walnut skew- 
 ers for the butchers to give a bloated consistency to 
 their meat. She was contented with her employ- 
 ment, and said that her first wish was to know and 
 please God. S::ch 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 God! 
 
 August 4tk. 
 THE room was more than full this morning at the 
 Almshouse ; and one person who was never present 
 
151 
 
 before, was arrested by the truth ; so that before 
 the close of service he wept like a child. Besides 
 him, a middle-aged woman, 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 
 almost chided me for not preaching in their presence 
 more 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 reconciliation." 
 
 " It is my comfort," she said ; " and I am impa- 
 tient that you do not come, for you help me to un- 
 derstand it." 
 
 In the afternoon I exchanged with Dr. R ? 
 
 who went to the Hospital, preached to my audi- 
 ence, and assures me, that he was newer more deep- 
 ly affected in any place of public worship, than at 
 the attention of the affiicted patients 
 
August Sih. 
 
 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 subterranean regions. He has 
 not long resided in his native country. During the 
 whole of this summer season, sickness h s prevent- 
 ed him from labouring more than two or three 
 days. 
 
 For the space of several weeks before he came 
 to this institution he was insane : but when reason 
 returned, he proposed to take up his residence in 
 this temple of charity, that his wife might have op- 
 portunity to maintain their children. 
 
 Now he is afflicted with the dysentery ; but is 
 patient in tribulation. When he first went to Eng- 
 land, about twenty-three years ago, he thinks that 
 he was converted under the preach tg of Mr. John 
 Wesley. For a few years he 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 my- 
 self," said he, " every one else is whole. I know 
 that I am the chief of sinners ; but still I hope, be- 
 cause God has spoken peace, through Jesus Christ." 
 He declared that the situation of his wife and chil- 
 dren was the only thing; which made him desire 
 life. 
 
153 
 
 " There is, Sir," lie affirmed, " such a thing as 
 a willingness 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 naturally and necessarily, without any superna- 
 tural influence, make men better." This is the 
 judgment of all who know but little of the sad de- 
 pravity of the human heart. Experience has long 
 since decided, that if sickness and tribulations are 
 not sanctified by some extraneous agency, they are 
 of no personal advantage. 
 
 With Mr. T. S. C, the aged traveller, 
 
 considerable time was spent ; and our conversation 
 gained the attention of all the patients in the room. 
 His principal fault, which is discoverable, is a pole- 
 mic spirit, which savours a little too much of bitter- 
 ness. Still he thinks many erroneous persons sin- 
 cere Christians. In doctrine he thinks all the 
 churches are Arminian in the United States, ex- 
 cept the different denominations of Presbyterians 
 and Baptists. To a long hymn of thirteen stanzas, 
 which he composed in the Hospital, and which con- 
 tain much sound doctrine, but no poetry, he has 
 subjoined the following 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 " These lines go to show the impropriety of de- 
 pending 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 imperfec- 
 
154 
 
 / 
 tion in God, and give the preference to the devil. 
 Tiie Arminians work by faith without grace, and 
 the Predestinarians through faith by grace. The 
 Arminians say, after God converts and declares the 
 soul an heir of heaven, that the devil can revoke the 
 decree, and damn the creature at last ; but the Pre- 
 destinarians urge, that when God does the work, it if? 
 eternally done, independent of hell itself." 
 
 August 10th. 
 
 ** Yet shalt thou know, nor is the difference nice, 
 
 " The casual fall, from impudence of vice. 
 
 ** Abanden'd guilt by active laws restrain, 
 
 •* But pause if virtue's slightest spark remain." 
 
 Langhohke, 
 
 SIX wards in the Hospital I have visited to-day, 
 and prayed with many in the closing scenes of life. 
 No object interested my feelings more, than the 
 young person, whom 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 from her, by some of the persons in 
 the Hospital, at different times, which may be 
 partially true, wholly true, or entirely false. So 
 many romantic tales are told by the patients of this 
 sort, that kw of them can be trusted. 
 
155 
 
 According to her account, she was born in G — 11, 
 in the State of Vermont. She has a father and 
 mother living, who have been divorced* All the 
 children continued with their mother. One of her 
 brothers and a sister 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 distance of a few 
 miles from her mother's residence, where she be- 
 came acquainted with a fascinating young man. 
 For three months, this young stranger, who had bu- 
 siness 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 relatives in P— — , where the ordi- 
 nance of marriage was to be administered. 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 appre- 
 hensions. 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 soli- 
 citations, that he consorted with others, and when 
 he vanquished, he contaminated his prey; She 
 
156 
 
 Was far from friends, without money, in a strange 
 city, under the protection of one whom she crimi- 
 nally 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 retreat in the Hospital. 
 
 She wept abundantly, to-day, and assured me of 
 her serious intention of returning to her mother, 
 and of departing from iniquity. Vigorous exertions 
 to snatch her from perdition, shall be made if I 
 live ; 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 Almshouse this 
 evening, four dying persons surrounded me, whose 
 bodies were in such a putrescent state, that I loath- 
 ed my necessary breath. Although the nurse burn- 
 ed, occasionally, some linen, and fumigated the room 
 with acetous evaporation, yet the effluvia, had I not 
 been provided with some aromatics, would have 
 caused vomition. In another room I visited a dying 
 woman, who was perfectly 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, beckon- 
 ed to me to bow my head, and whispered, " pray* 
 pray for me." Her request being complied with, 
 she took my hand again, gave it a gentle pressure, 
 turned to hoaven the aspect of gratitude* and clos- 
 ed her eyes on all messengers of the gospel for ever, 
 and ever 
 
157 
 
 August 15th, 
 
 TWO Irishmen are now in the Hospital, who ex- 
 cite the mingled emotion of pleasure and commise- 
 ration. One has lately arrived in this city, and 
 Would have gone immediately to his relatives, who 
 preceded him to the western part of Pennsylvania, 
 and now expect him to follow, hut 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 grfltiefid" 
 
 " But if he allows you to wither here, what then ? 
 Does he any injustice V 9 
 
 " No, I could not complain, for he deals kindly 
 TVilh 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 di- 
 vinity of Christ. Death he apprehends must be 
 the result of his present sickness; but still assures 
 me, that his inability to read the bible, from optical 
 weakness, is his greatest present trial. 
 
 This young man is fairer and more gentle than 
 
 any of his countrymen, whom I have seen. If he 
 
 sons of Hibernia were generally to resemble bim, 
 
 and I were a native of that country, in the posses- 
 
 14 
 
158 
 
 sion of civil ancf 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 a 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 religion. When he 
 left home, the sailor's wardrobe, a silken handker- 
 chief, 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 him ; he some- 
 times read it by way of compensation for past ne- 
 glect; and eventually it proved powerful. For a 
 few of the last years of his life it has been the in- 
 strument of his consolation. It has taught him 
 that he is a sinner ; that God has provided salva- 
 tion 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 it ; 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 business, I 
 thought he could preserve me there ; and so he did. 
 
159 
 
 for every man of us thirteen was killed, but one mau 
 and myself." 
 
 Some antipathy this sailor has, but such as is ve- 
 ry reasonable, against those persons who, for office, 
 make a profession of religion, and partake of the 
 Lord's supper. He could not respect a petty ofiL 
 cer 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 many oaths, but never the oath of a baptized 
 midshipman, whose profane lips are imbued with sa- 
 cramental wine. The chaplain of the ship was 
 equally contemptible, in the opinion of the Irish- 
 man, because, to use his own words, " he did not 
 preach about spiritual thing3, and after sermon, 
 would spend the sabbath in playing cards, in fishing, 
 or, if near the shore, in hunting, with the other offi- 
 cers. 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 on us was not like the yoke Bonaparte 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 
 contemptuous treatment?" 
 
160 
 
 " No, Sir ; for the officers knew that the chap- 
 lair: 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 thunder, and storms of chain-shot ; but 
 in the form of noxious vapour, which unseen, per- 
 vades the vitals and mingles deadly ,miasma with the 
 purple streams of life. Ojrc might as well plunge a 
 dag er into the bosom of a ghost, as contend with 
 this enemy. 
 
 His greatest present sorrow arises, if I may be- 
 lieve him, from the remembrance of the profanity of 
 his youth, and the sins < X his riper years. 
 
 The sorrows of a mother, on her death-bed, 
 
 claim peculiar respect. Mrs. M S 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 chil- 
 dren baptized there, and with many tears expresses 
 her maternal apprehension, that should she die, they 
 would not " 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 de- 
 serted by an intemperate husband. 
 
 She united with me in prayer, in a tearful and 
 very devout manner ; yea, when I left the room, her 
 hands and eyes were still directed to heaven in hum* 
 ble supplication. 
 
161 
 
 August nth. 
 
 •' The downcast eye, the tear that flows amain, 
 •* As if to ask her innocence again ; 
 " 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 terminates in the ruin of domestic 
 peace, and the loss of that which makes life desira- 
 ble 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 origin- 
 al righteousness which he possessed, and what they 
 inherit is corruption ; but some have more damning 
 ingredients put into their composition than others. 
 Some are born tigers, and some lions, and some 
 foxes, and some like the timid deer, or the " shorn 
 lamb," to which God tempers the storm. 
 
 The amiable sort of men would be moved at the 
 sight of seventeen females, withering in one room, 
 hi the morning of life; and the Christian, would 
 speak to them, with something of that meekness and 
 tender concern, which characterized his divine Mas- 
 ter. 
 
 Caroline was one of the number. I found and 
 feft her m tears. Her mother, her " poor mother," 
 was the theme of her discourse, and the remem- 
 14 * 
 
162 
 
 brance 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 endure the thought of letting her parent 
 know her circumstances. 
 
 " You hav 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 
 »ins." 
 
 " In that manner you must go to a forgiving God; 
 for he alone can reform your heart and life. Be- 
 fore 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. WeH 
 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, De Witt Clinton, 
 in the performance of his official duty, passed sen- 
 tence on about thirty culprits, for their respective 
 offences against the laws of the country. In the 
 company, which stood at the bar of judgment, was a 
 young man, of reputable appearance, on whom lean- 
 ed 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 Mas»ii-< 
 
163 
 
 ehusetts, and, by his gentlemanly address, personal 
 attractions, professions of love, or something 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 
 European fled with his prize to New- York ; and 
 here, being in want of money, thought to gain a sup- 
 ply 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 partner. 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, industrious dis- 
 position, and at the same time proffered all necessa- 
 ry assistance for her journey. Should this man, 
 said the judge, retrieve his character, he might then 
 visit, and claim his wedded companion. In conse- 
 quence of her youth and unprotected condition, the 
 criminal was sentenced to imprisonment in Bride- 
 well for no more than thirty days. The firmness 
 and justice of His Honour, for which he is deservedly 
 celebrated on the bench, were tempered with mer- 
 cy ; with such mercy as it is consistent with civil 
 law to grant. 
 
ie4 
 
 August 19th. 
 
 YESTERDAY, which was the sabbath, I perform- 
 ed 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 shock- 
 ing 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 of this dying man, I conversed with 
 J — R — , 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, with so little affectation of humiliation, that 
 he was the chief of sinners. R— - lives under the 
 terrors of the law, reads his bible in an agony, and 
 gets drunk the first opportunity which presents it- 
 self; " 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. Fts 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 loag 
 
165 
 
 prayed, but it will not break : 'tis hard as rock. I 
 doVt know that I ever prayed aright." This mar) 
 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 # ." 
 
 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 ap- 
 pear. 
 
 Among the people of colour, I found Richard 
 !Neal, a native of Delaware, aged twenty-eight years, 
 who is blasted with the rheumatism. He lived, in 
 childhood, in a family which paid decent attentioa 
 to religion, and in which he obtained some specula- 
 tive knowledge of the way of salvation. " At that 
 time," he said, " I knew something, but felt 
 'nothing." He has been sick two years, and with 
 tears in his eyes blesses God that he did not cut him 
 off in health ; that he has severely afflicted him, 
 and made him acquainted with Jesus Christ. Had 
 
 * Not long after the above date, J — R — begged me to give 
 him a Hymn-Book. He committed many of them to memory, 
 and continued in the $nrae frame of mind until he left the Hospi- 
 tal. Since that time, 1 have not seen him, hut a respectable Cap- 
 tain informs me that R— keeps the Hymn-Book and Bible always 
 with him, reads them when sober, " and will not part with them 
 when drunk for love nor money." Some have attempted to pur- 
 chase them of him, but every application enrages him <:ven to 
 profanity. After imprecating misery, he will read, cry, and pray 
 again ! 
 
166 
 
 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 ?" 
 
 " By the glorious approbation of God's love, 
 which he has put into my heart. He makes me feel 
 that he is the forgiving God. I know that I am a 
 vile sinner, but God would never lutve done this for 
 me, had not Christ died for me. I can truly, Sir, 
 declare, that I have had more luippiness since I have 
 been sick, than I ever had in my whole life before" 
 
 a Were you now to appear before God, what do 
 you think would be your first business T" 
 
 " / would bless and praise his holy name for his 
 miration ?" 
 
 " 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 Chris- 
 tian 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 ! 
 
J67 
 
 August 20th. 
 
 SIX wards # in the Almshouse have heen 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 prayed, and with some convers- 
 ed. One man, who has been confined with a fractur- 
 ed limb six weeks, has in that time read Owen on 
 the CXXX Psalm> and committed to memory 
 twenty-six hymns. 
 
 August 24itu 
 CAROLINE appears to be more concerned for 
 herself than 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 hypo- 
 crite 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 
 
 * fly examining 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, 
 
168 
 
 ©f 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 com- 
 fort 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 discovered any feeling before, and the oppor- 
 tunity was improved of pressing divine truth home 
 upon her mind. 
 
 Almost every day, I exclaim, " Oh ! for a Mag- 
 dalen Hospital!" An institution of this name was 
 opened in London, August 10th, 1753, and previous- 
 ly to January 3rd, 1811, admitted four thousand 
 one hundred and twenty-eight 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 
 discharged for improper behaviour ; and 2732 had 
 been reconciled to friends, placed in service, or pro- 
 vided with reputable occupations. The Report for 
 April 24th, 1311, states that, "of the number re- 
 conciled to friends, or placed in service, some, un- 
 doubtedly, have relapsed into their former errors ; 
 but many who left the house at their own request, 
 have since behaved well ; and several of those dis- 
 charged for improper behaviour in the house have* 
 to the certain knowledge of the committee, never 
 returned to evil courses. In the year 1791, g;reat 
 pains were taken to trace out the situation of all 
 
169 
 
 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 ac- 
 curacy, 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 be- 
 having ill, 4 insane in confinement ; and the situation 
 of 10 was unknown. " The women, when discharg- 
 ed from the house, are, for the most part, under 
 twenty years of age; and it is an invariable 
 rule not to dismiss any woman, (unless at her own 
 desire or for misconduct,) without some means be- 
 ing provided, by which she may obtain a livelihood 
 in an honest manner." 
 
 A chapel is provided for the persons in this Hos- 
 pital, in which the founders, and friends of the cha- 
 rity have often heard the most grateful music from 
 the choir of protected females. One of their 
 hymns is peculiarly appropriate and beautiful. 
 
 I shall transcribe it, with the hope that some who 
 read it, may hear it sung in a similar Hospital m 
 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* 
 IS 
 
170 
 
 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 this, 
 
 A better house prepare ; 
 Receive them to thy heav'nly bliss ; 
 
 And may we meet them there ! 
 
 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.'* 
 
 August 27th. 
 
 A SERVANT of an excellent family is now sick 
 in the Hospital. Servants of colour can be more 
 faithfully attended in this house, than in almost any 
 private dwelling; and when their masters support 
 them, it should not be considered unkind to trans- 
 mit them to the care of ever-watchful nurses and 
 physicians. 
 
 To this man the preacher said, f f how great was 
 the condescension of Christ in coming down from 
 heaven to save sinners !" 
 
171 
 
 The patient rolled over in bed, rubbed the large 
 plaister on his breast in extreme agony, and lifting 
 his hands and eyes to heaven, said, " O God, for- 
 give ! 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 ines- 
 timable blessing. This person was taught the way 
 of life through the example and counsel particular- 
 ly of his mistress. 
 
 Mr. T. S. C — , has lately begun to read the bi- 
 ble in one of the wards of black people, and it is 
 said that his hearers are very attentive to the aged 
 lay-preacher. Caroline looks miserably. She has 
 seasons of weeping, which not unfrequently 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 call ; the patient repli- 
 ed, " I have always belonged to the Episcopal 
 church, but I do not care who comes, or what is his 
 denomination, if he is a good man and can pray." 
 He made an attempt to speak to the writer ; but af- 
 ter 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 
 
172 
 
 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, how- 
 ever, that the sinner 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 re- 
 quested another visit. 
 
 Another man was the object of peculiar attention, 
 because 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 resig- 
 nation. He is confident 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, dissatisfac- 
 tion with divine providence, is impiety ; and all such 
 religion worse than vain. 
 
 Mrs. M S , who is bloated with the 
 
 dropsy, discovered so much concern for her young- 
 est son, that a young man went in search of him, to 
 procure him a lodging in the Almshouse. The lad 
 was found with a family, which resides in a cellar, 
 and is supported by selling vegetables and making 
 coarse shoes. The shoemaker had protected the 
 
173 
 
 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 young gen- 
 tleman, taking the boy by the hand, " I will get you 
 a birth in the Almshouse, 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. 
 cc It is more blessed to give than to receive." 
 
 U * 
 
174 
 
 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 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, Prtfsbyteriauism, 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 sentiments. 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 neigh- 
 bours, while others were running 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 
 ©f his guilt, could die with composure." 
 
 He rejoined, "01 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 
 
175 
 
 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 ap- 
 pear 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 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 P- . 
 
 R- • He trembled with emotion when he con- 
 fessed himself guilty before God ; and after prayer 
 said, like one whose soul was going out in faith to 
 meet the Desire of nations, " he is a precious Je« 
 
ire 
 
 September 2nc?, 
 
 MANY circumstances conspire to render Car©* 
 line's return 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 iEsculapius for his sister, than is 
 done for this young woman. The attempt is now 
 faithfully making to restore the fallen. The atten- 
 tions which she receives appear to excite gratitude. 
 In answer to some examination into the state of her 
 soul, she said, " I think I may say with Joseph con- 
 cerning the enemies of my peace, that they meant U 
 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 happen, 
 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 con- 
 tinues to feel so anxious about her mother, that the 
 writer insisted on addressing a letter to her. This 
 
 he had frequently done, but C was unwilling to 
 
 have her situation known, until she could appear in 
 person before her parent. 
 
177 
 
 September 2rd, 
 
 " 3IY sins against man," said the weeping C -, 
 
 " I feel to be comparatively nothing, but it i« 
 against God that I have sinnecl, and now that is the 
 thing which troubles me most. I hope he will 
 forgive me ; but if not, I would wish to live a re- 
 ligious life." 
 
 A letter was exhibited to her, of which the fol 
 lowing h a 
 
 COPY. 
 
 " Nerv-York, September 3rd, 1311. 
 
 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 bride ; and here, as it be- 
 came a deliberate villain, in a strange land, at the 
 distance of some hundred miles from her friends, at- 
 tempted to destroy his victim. She was in the 
 power of one, whom she loved before she discover- 
 ed his treacherous designs, and without the means of 
 escape, when, under the most insidious excuses, and 
 with ail 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 
 fo this place, and this situation with her own know- 
 
m 
 
 ledge 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, inces- 
 santly flowing, were troublesome to his adamantine 
 bosom, for a continual dropping will produce some 
 effect on the most obdurate substance. He there- 
 fore 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 support, without money to return to you, 
 and with a broken heart. But the Lord was pleas- 
 ed to provide. In her sickness, her affecting case 
 was made known to the benevolent, and she is now 
 under the care of one, who faithfully acts the part 
 of a mother, in counsel and care. Who this per- 
 son is, that even weeps with Caroline in her sorrows, 
 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 spi- 
 rit. 
 
 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, conmied to her bed, but is in a 
 state of convalescence. Tell me, would you gladly 
 and kindly receive your child ? Please to return 
 an answer to the writer, and she shall be made ac- 
 quainted with it. 
 
179 
 
 In the course of six or seven weeks, you maj -, 
 possibly, receive your daughter, through the bene- 
 volence of Christian friends, to the embraces of 
 that bosom which supported her in infancy. She 
 wishes now to go to you on foot over all the rugged 
 miles. Be contented then, for the present, to know, 
 that she is duteous in affection to her absent mo- 
 ther." 
 
 After Caroline had perused the letter, the writer 
 demanded 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 G II, where I was 
 
 born." Of course the writer forwarded the letter 
 to Mrs. M S 11, the family name of Caro- 
 line, and expects a favourable answer. 
 
 September 6th. 
 
 ONE ward of the Almshouse, in which I preach- 
 ed a few days ago, has lost four of its tenants since 
 that time, and to-day, some of my feeble, but con- 
 stant 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 com- 
 plaint ; afflicted, but not cast away ; in sorrow, but 
 
180 
 
 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 mercy of God. 
 Fve nothing to plead, but my own guilt, and Christ's 
 righteousness." 
 
 No sooner had I darkened the door of that room, 
 which is the receptacle of the skeletons of lost fe- 
 males, 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 familiar to 
 me ; but I could neither rememher 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." 
 
 " You have seen me in the Hospital, Sir, and 
 there I have heard you preach" 
 
 " Can it be possible that you are the once beauti- 
 ful girl of fifteen ? Was it you who made many 
 promises of reformation 1 Is your name M 
 D ?" 
 
 She wept an affirmative answer* 
 
181 
 
 " How different ! how fallen, from what you 
 then was ! Then you was neat ; now you are cover- 
 ed 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 ema- 
 ciated that I did not know you. Do you remember 
 my warnings ?" " O yes, Sir," she sobbed out, 
 " with shame 1 remember." 
 
 " And in spite of all remonstrances you have 
 pursued your old course, only to find renewed expe- 
 rience, of what you well knew before, that the way 
 of transgressors is hard ; for now your flesh and 
 health, which might have been preserved, seem to 
 be entirely gone. Do not think that I delight to 
 tfeproach you. I pity you, for you are not seven, 
 teen years of age ; 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 afford to part 
 with any of its vital fluid, even for the blush of 
 shame *i 
 
 In a room contmiou* 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 spirits ; some w T ere covered with 
 sores; scire had lost the use of their eyes, and 
 some had met with that too common calamity, the 
 loss of the nose. Would to God, that the inconB;- 
 
 * See pages st. 59^aticl 65. 
 16 
 
18'2 
 
 derate would reflect, for one moment, that libidinous 
 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 affected, 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 tak- 
 ing the leap into that abyss whence few return. 
 
 After I had conversed with M B , who 
 
 affords 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 tender 
 est strains, to the " mountain daisy ;" 
 
 " Such is the fate of artless maid, 
 Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade ! 
 By love's simplicity betray'd, 
 
 In guileless 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 ; he can wash the foulest, and make it clean.' ' 
 
 " Oh ! but I fear he rvill not. I know he can, 
 but I have been so vile, that her will not. He will 
 leave me to perish in my sins. My heart will not 
 submit ; I cannot bear to die !" 
 
183 
 
 u Does the hope of worldly pleasure make you 
 wish to continue on the earth 1" 
 
 " Oh, no ! no ! hut since I have devoted the morn- 
 ing 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 ex- 
 traction ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir, and I have more to answer for than 
 those who surround me, because I have been well 
 instructed. I was accustomed to attend Dr. Mc 
 
 L '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 ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I am a thousand times worse than I can 
 think. I cannot tell you how I feel. My heart 
 rejects, and buffets, and hates the Lord Jesus Christ ; 
 but O, I wish that he would break it." 
 
 Such anguish of spirit I never witnessed before, 
 nor is it easy to conceive of stronger convictions of 
 the obduracy of the human heart than she manifest- 
 ed. " / am nothing but pollution from the be- 
 ginning, 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 re- 
 minded, that those who doubt the divine disposition 
 and ability to save, account God a liar. Mercy 
 was renewedly proffered, but she would not be com- 
 forted. The knowledge which this person, A 
 
 T , possesses, in religious matters, is truly sur- 
 
184 
 
 prising. She seems to have been a systematic 
 theologist from her childhood. The confessions of 
 sin, which are 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, 1 feel that I am one of the great- 
 est hypocrites in the world." With a countenance 
 almost as much disfigured as her own, the minister 
 replied, " so you are, good woman f whereupon she 
 turned away, saying in a tone of exasperation, " you 
 
 He, I aVt !" The confessions of A T - 
 
 are not of this description. 
 
 The young man who disowns his wife has so far 
 recovered as to have been carried from the Hospi- 
 tal 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 re- 
 warded 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. 26. 28. 
 
 The deist, whose case was stated on the 30th of 
 August last, is probably sealed unto perdition. He 
 lold 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 12th. 
 
 " 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. Nevertheless, a door-keeper of a church of 
 God is compelled, by poverty, to take up his resi- 
 dence 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 long hair, 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 wondered at finding him in an institution of pub- 
 lic charity. The truth was found to be, that hav- 
 ing 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 expense to himself. 
 The church to which he belongs is rather embarrass- 
 ed 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. 
 It rarely contains, however, such a combination of 
 dignity, poverty, and piety as are found in this 
 Irishman. 
 
 A — T — remains in the same state of body and 
 ajind. Her mental anguish is unutterable, 31 — . 
 16 * 
 
386 
 
 B — and M — D — were seated on a bed together, 
 beside their agonizing companion* The first 1 ex- 
 horted to instruct the second ; 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 con- 
 duct 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 gone ; she returned to the practice 
 of Corinth, and multiplied abominations, more than 
 her sisters Samaria and Sodom. Extreme sickness 
 was the result ; and having lodged for a few nights 
 m a cellar with blacks, she was brought to the Alms- 
 house. The way of lewdness is the shortest way to 
 hell. 
 
 September 13th. 
 MRS. M — S — , who was introduced to the rea- 
 der's acquaintance on the 160th page of this work, has 
 rapidly declined for several days past ; and at length 
 has fallen asleep. Her eldest child, a daughter, is 
 at service, and maintains her youngest sister, who 
 cannot be more than three years of age. The se- 
 cond daughter was taken under the care of the ma- 
 
187 
 
 Iron of the Hospital, who has procured 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 bad 
 promised to be a guardian to each of her helpless, 
 orphans. In addition to this, she obtained a pro- 
 mise 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 bed ; for there is something pleas- 
 ing to most persons, in the thought of having their 
 dust gathered to the ashes of their fathers. At any 
 rate, if this be a weakness, it is not censurable, and 
 Rebecca gave her mother the promise, which she 
 punctually fulfilled. With composure, with hope, 
 the fond mother went to rest, where the wicked 
 cease from troubling. 
 
 September 14th. 
 
 FOR three or four days and nights Caroline has 
 wept almost incessantly. Something gives her 
 great uneasiness, when any one speaks of her mo- 
 ther. If her grief should continue, she will never 
 meet her forsaken parent. 
 
 The young man, who promised to protect an un- 
 guarded boy, to-day sought his charge, at the poor 
 cobbler's cellar, but could not find him. Last night 
 
188 
 
 he was there, but where he was when his guardian 
 sought him none could say ; for how could a labour- 
 ing man watch a playful child 1 He was sought in 
 the streets, but could not be found. Night and 
 hunger will probably bring him home ; for these re- 
 gulate hundreds, who experience no other govern- 
 ment. 
 
 At the request of Mrs. P- — R — , 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 ase, and can afford con- 
 siderable assistance. About three months ago, a 
 son of seven years was taken sick with the small- 
 pox. For seven weeks the widow paid such atten- 
 tion 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 immediately confined to her bed, from which 
 she may never arise. When I entered, the break- 
 fast-table with its scanty furniture was standing be- 
 side her bed, and the daughter was preparing some 
 tea. She insisted on having the table removed, for 
 the present, saying that " to hear religious conversa- 
 tion and unite in prayer is better than daily food." 
 The only chair in the room afforded me a seat be- 
 side 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, " un- 
 til 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." 
 
189 
 
 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 church, and should 
 think herself happy if she coidd get even to the near- 
 est r 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 willing to save, and that none who 
 come to him shall be rejected." 
 
 " TJiat I know, Sir, and in that I rejoice, for the 
 word of God teaches me. Christ is all the hope of 
 my poor heart. That 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, Vve got a bible, Sir, Mr, & — * 
 brought it to me. It is a fine book I" 
 
 " May the reading do the young man good." " O y 
 Sir" she rejoined, " / 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. 
 
 * Mr. W— S— , who gave a book to W— R— , and whose - - 
 »ame is introduced on the 104th page. 
 
190 
 
 September 15th. 
 
 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. Mc Donald, who was 
 committed for horse-stealing, first became an exempla- 
 ry man, and lodged in the room with one Johnson. 
 This man was committed for forgery, and after a 
 long confinement, attempted to make his escape by 
 leaping from the wall. Previously to this attempt, 
 he had conducted like an altered man ; and even a 
 Christian might be induced to believe, 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. Sensi- 
 ble of the near approach of death, he desired to 
 speak with his old room-mate. The keeper brought 
 Mc D — into his presence, when the dying man 
 said, with tender familiarity, " Well, Mac, I am go- 
 ing to die, and I wanted to discharge a debt of grati- 
 tude. 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 wish- 
 ed that you would hold your tongue, and often, when 
 
191 
 
 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 comfort. I bless God for 
 your instructions, with my dying breath." After 
 this he spoke in sublime strains of the pleasures of 
 pardoned sin, prayed in a loud voice with the keep- 
 er and Mc. D , and immediately died. He was 
 
 thirty-seven years of age ; and not long after, in his 
 forty-first year, followed Mc Donald, whose death 
 was tranquil, and even triumphant. 
 
 The reader will be gratified with some of this 
 last person's writing. With a few slight alterations 
 in a few words, but none in the sense, I shall pre 
 sent 
 
 A COPV 
 
 Of some poetry, written by Mc Donald* while in 
 Prison. 
 
 John 1.17.& 8.32. & 14 6.PfoVo23.23. Ye busy minds, that seek for trutb, 
 
 James 5. 1 — 6. Must own that pleasure, pelf, or pain, 
 
 Luke 12. 20. & 21. Are sure rewards in early youth , 
 
 Eeclesiastes 2. 1 — 12 And all that man in life can gain; 
 
 1 Cor. 1. 21 — 30. Colossians 2 3. U-Iess to wisdom he should cry, 
 
 James 4. 8. Should by the Spirit strive to move, 
 
 Matt. 7. 7. And call the blest Redpemer nigh, 
 
 Gal. 5. 6. John 14. J 3 8s 94. To grant that faith which works by love 
 
 * Mc D 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, th?t many 
 swerve from the scriptures of trutb, ''which cdntain the divine 
 mysteries of God.'' 
 
192 
 
 Prov. 8. 9. The Bible's precepts all are plain, 
 
 2 Cor. 4. 3. Aid rit,'ht, to them that knowledge find; 
 
 1 Cor. 2 14. But. nat'ral ton u^s can ne'er explaiiij 
 
 Horn. 12. 2. Eph« 4. 23. Col 3. 10. Unless the Lonl renew the mind. 
 
 1 Cor. 3. 13. B.come a Tool, /'you'll be wise, 
 
 James 1. 5 & ft. And wisdom seek from God ^bove : 
 
 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. 
 
 5Tom. 5.1. Ps. 110. 165. Phil. 4. 6 & 7. O then, sweet peace, to conscience dear, 
 
 I-aiali 2ft. 3, 4. Will make her kir;d abode with thee, 
 
 1 Cor. 10. 13. Prov. 3. 21—25. Ami-through this rugged path w 11 steer 
 
 Isaiah 58. 11. Luke I. 79. Thy bark from ev'ry flanker free. 
 
 Col. 1, 2. 7. No doubts shall in thy br.som rise, 
 
 John. 8. 32 & 36. Gal. 5. 1. For God in Christ ha male thee free, 
 
 ilsa. 25. 7. 2 Cor. 3. 13—18. The vail has taken fro.n thine eyes, 
 
 Horn. 8. i & 21. To walk in gospel liberty. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Matt. 5. 6. If any thirst for righteousness, 
 
 Luke 6. 21* Or hunger fo- th<> bread of life, 
 
 oohn 4. 10, 14. & 6. 35. & 7. 37, 38. Cbiirt fills their souls with happiness : 
 
 Isa» 58. 4* N'<r shall they drink Ungodly strife. 
 
 John 1. 12. All, who believe span Ms name, 
 
 1 John 3. 1 & 2. Ar- justly styl'd the sons of God : 
 
 Titus 2.. 13 & 14. Heb. 12. 2. By faith and hope th"y tru«t in him, 
 
 1 Pet. !■ 19. Who made atonement with his blood. 
 
 V. 
 
 John 6. 1 29; C rist says this is the wo^k of God, 
 
 John 3. 14—18 T' believe on Mm whom God hath <ent ; 
 
 Jo'in 6. 35—53. To eat his tl^h, and d-m'-- his blood. 
 
 Isa. 33. 15 8c 16. Rev. 2. 17. Byfaith you'll see what bread he meant: 
 The w iters are the '.v< -d o." Ciod, 
 
 Enh. 5. 26. To san t'<;y •»<«! cleanse tb <e 1 ; fword, 
 
 John 1. 1. Col. 2. Q. And scripture proves that Chrst's Uie 
 
 Rev. 19. 13. Eph. 3. 14—20. Which truly comprehends the whole. 
 
 Luke 13. 24. James 4. 3. Heb. 11. 6 Then let Us strive and long endure, 
 
 Rom. 5. 1. Eph. 2. 13 8t IB. By r aitl. to make our peace with God, 
 
 2 Pet 1. 10. Our callmg an<i 1« ctio 1 '. sure, 
 
 Rev. 6. 16 & 17. Heb. 2, 3. 12 25. A . ' thus escape hi> wrathful rod. 
 
 Tsa. 45. 21. John 14. 27. The Lor i" just. Tn Christ th -re's peac°, 
 
 Luke 2. 3—33 A<*ts 4. i?. And that salvation which we praise : 
 
 Rom. 10. 17. Eph 3. 17. O may our faith and fore increase, 
 
 2 Cor 9. 15. Heb. 13. i2. And God recei/e the song", we raise. 
 
193 
 
 On the back of the paper, which contains the 
 foregoing performance, the author has said, " who- 
 soever will peruse 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 Benefactor, whose mercy 
 endureth to all generations." 
 
 AN ELEGY, 
 
 By the same Prisoner, who conceived himself to 
 have been convicted 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 ; 
 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 pase> 
 17 
 
194 
 
 Like Pharaoh's butler, one did say, 
 " Alas ! I have you long forgot, 
 " And do recall my fault this day y y 
 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 relieve ; 
 Well knowing that the arm of man, 
 Though bound by oaths in solemn trust, 
 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 monarch? on me frown. 
 
193 
 
 September 16th. 
 
 MAN, who cannot search the heart, must often be 
 influenced in his conduct by the outward appear- 
 ance. Judging from what the human eye can dis- 
 cover, there has been more reason to indulge the 
 hope of reclaiming Caroline, than any one o f her com- 
 panions. She has, there fore,. received more atten- 
 tion in the Hospital than any one of her class ever 
 enjoyed there before. All persons concerned in the 
 immediate care of the patients seem to have conspir- 
 ed 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 pe- 
 rusal. 
 
 copr. 
 
 « New-York, September 16th, A. D. 1811. 
 
 CAROLINE, 
 
 Your situation is indeed a trying one. You need 
 consolation, and I regret that the malevolence of 
 those unhappy women, with whom you are confined, 
 should render it necessary for me to speak to you in 
 particular, less frequently than I could wish. Their 
 ©pinion of my attention 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 society ; but if 
 
196 
 
 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 unkindness, that the unrenewed heart is even 
 opposed to the merciful Redeemer. An abandoned 
 woman is neither willing to enter the kingdom of hea- 
 ven herself, nor pleased that others should be saved. 
 Let your wicked room-mates continue to say that 
 " you will soon elope with the parson or doctor," be- 
 cause we seek your salvation. Regard them not, 
 except it be to pray for their conviction and conver- 
 sion. Were they disposed to receive assistance, we 
 should as gladly proffer it to them as to you. Re- 
 ceive from us this assurance, that so long as you con- 
 tinue to maintain the humility, penitence, and spirit 
 of new obedience, 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 occupation 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 indebted for all those 
 circumstances which elevate you above many of your 
 fallen fellow-sinners. If you are truly penitent, it is 
 God who has pierced your soul with arrows of con- 
 viction ; 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 
 
197 
 
 covenant 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 
 country post-offices, to expect a letter from your mo- 
 ther ; but so soon as I receive one you shall know its 
 contents. In the mean time, seek to compose your 
 mind by the consideration that Jesus died to save sin- 
 ners. Do not read too much, for your mind becomes 
 confused, and you derive no advantage. Young 
 persons, when anxious to know the way of life, com- 
 monly fall into this error. They read much, and 
 think little. It is as much your duty, at proper sea- 
 sons, to compose yourself for sleep, as at other times 
 to pray. Above all things, receive the testimony 
 of God, concerning Jiis Son, that he sent him into 
 the world to save the chief of sinners. Not to be- 
 lieve this, so as to trust in God for pardon and ac- 
 ceptance 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 seneral discourse in your ward, you need not 
 fear to express your wish to one, who feels his own 
 need of pardon. May God bless you ; 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 benevolence do honour to his understanding and 
 heart # . 
 
 * In this place the writer begs leave to tender his gratitude to 
 Messrs. Tappen and I.vberwick of the Hospital, and Mr: 
 Anderson of the Almshouse, not onlv for their polite atten- 
 17 * 
 
19* 
 
 September Wh. 
 
 THROUGH the compassion and instrumentality 
 of Mrs. B — , some necessary articles of dress for 
 Caroline, were procured from the wardrobe of the 
 Dorcas Society. 
 
 On the 16th instant, the son of Mrs M 
 
 S was found by the young man who was en- 
 gaged to do the best he could for the child, and led 
 to the Almshouse. 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 wick* 
 edness than his mother's death. 
 
 To-day the boy called on his guardian, and request- 
 ed him to visit Rebecca. The dutiful daughter, who 
 had per brined the task of a hired servant by day, 
 and watched with her dying mother by night, was 
 found in the kitchen of a porter-house, making, or 
 
 tions to him ; but for their fidelity to the sick under their care. 
 These young practitioners in the healing art are gentlemen of ex- 
 cellent understanding, amiable manners, and moral principle, who 
 promise to be thf future ornaments of their profes&ioD, and somt 
 of the most useful members of society. 
 
199 
 
 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 huag on her sister's skirt. 
 
 " Well, Rebecca, 1 suppose you have some re* 
 quest 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 little brother came home dissatisfied with hit 
 situation. For two nights past he had been put into 
 a bed which contained five boys besides himself. 
 They considered him a stranger, and kicked him 
 out. The boys used profane language, were lousy, 
 and he could not endv.r? tie thought of living there. 
 %i 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 
 present. What did the funeral of your mother cost 
 )rou?" The fees for the ground, the sexton's services, 
 &c. amounted to ten dollars ; of which she had paid 
 five, and was now working to discharge the remain- 
 der of the debt. 
 
 " It is enouih for you to provide for yourself and 
 little sister." The young man paid the five dollan 
 which were due ; as an Episcopal perquisite ; and 
 
 the body of 3VI S sleeps in peace, while her 
 
 spirit rests in hope of a glorious resurrection. 
 
 The reader will undoubtedly agree with the writ 
 er in opinion, that each Christian Church ought to 
 bury the bodies of her poor members, the Bishop's 
 
200 
 
 salary to the contrary notwithstanding ; besides af- 
 fording support to the orphan children which have 
 been baptized within her temples*. 
 
 Had the present Assistant Bishop known their 
 circumstances, it is certain, from the benevolence of 
 his character, that he would have given assistance to 
 the fatherless. May it not be presumed, that in fu- 
 ture the large funds of the Trinity Church will af- 
 ford a grave for those at least, who are in full commu- 
 nion with her, and die in poverty ? Before she builds 
 any more churches abroad, will she not make provi- 
 sion for the guardianship of all her helpless children ? 
 I am persuaded that Bishop Hob art 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 Episcopa- 
 lians will not blush to take an example from their 
 Presbyterian neighbours. 
 
 • It is understood, that this lad received assistance, when al- 
 most naked, and without shoes, in the frosty weather of October 
 following, from the president of the Dorcas Society, Mrs. J. B, 
 II — and Mrs. P. W , who delight in doing good to the poor 
 
 of every denomination. She who gives a cup of cold water to the 
 thirsty, lrom love to Jesus, shall in no wise lose her reward. 
 
201 
 
 September 22nd. 
 
 IN descending the stairs of the Almshouse, the Irish 
 froman met me, of whom I have given some account 
 on the 95th. page of this journal. She had in her hands 
 two pails of water, which her feeble frame could scarce- 
 ly support; for she is still pale, thin, neat, and humble. 
 Setting them down, she said in a manner which in* 
 vited condolence, " Ah, Sir ! and I have lost my lit- 
 tle child ; the youngest one." 
 
 " Possibly," said the writer, " God may have tak- 
 en 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 presumptive evidence, for Jesus 
 said, ' of such is the kingdom of heaven ;' and again, 
 * it is not the will of your Father which is in hea- 
 ven, that one of these little ones should perish.' 
 These sentences were uttered when little children were 
 in Christ's presence, and although the last compre- 
 hends all persons who become, from conversion, like 
 little children, yet there is reason to suppose that he in- 
 tended to be literally understood. * The kingdom of 
 God,' of which infants are said to be members, must 
 imply, 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 
 
202 
 
 they will not, when taken away in infancy, fail of 
 eternal life. 
 
 " David comforted himself, when he said concern- 
 ing 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." 
 
 She 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 be- 
 side her. All of them were sickly, in appearance, 
 like the plants which suffer for the want 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 ob- 
 tain of him half his pay, that she might leave the 
 Almshouse, and support her children. " Could we 
 live," said the woman, " in the fresh air, we should 
 be well again." The husband came not ; and weak- 
 ness with hunger drove her back to languish with 
 the multitude. 
 
 Before I commenced the public worship of the 
 evening, an aged woman said, with weeping, which 
 continued during the whole service, " the conflicts 
 of a poor sinner are very many and great in this life ; 
 
203 
 
 and especially'those which arise from olir own wick- 
 edness." N 
 
 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 man : God 
 sen you to me ; God pless you, dear man. He do 
 pless you : he pless you to de soul of poor sinmr." 
 If this is the truth, (and when I think of the divine 
 power and grace I cannot doubt it,) it is the preach- 
 er 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 24th. 
 
 A DUPLICATE of the letter to Mrs. M — - 
 
 S 11 was to-day forwarded, with a note to the 
 
 post-master in G 11, which entreated him to 
 
 ascertain if any such person as Was addressed could 
 be found in the vicinity of his office. She must be 
 dead, or has removed, or there is some deception in 
 the affair. 
 
 Yesterday died in the Almshouse, A T , 
 
 the well-informed Scotch-Irish girl, who said to her 
 miserable 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. 
 
204 
 
 September 27th. 
 
 IN the Almshouse, a female of only fifteen years 
 of age, a native of Ireland, who has lately heard the 
 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 de- 
 ceived. Not twelve months ago, she and her pa- 
 rents arrived in this country, and were sold for their 
 passage. This child, then thoughtless, was purchas- 
 ed by a young countryman, who pretended to love 
 her, and finally deserted her, 
 
 •* push'd her from shore, 
 
 " And launchM 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 question 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 6fteen, and the other only thir- 
 teen suns. 
 
205 T 
 
 September 29th. 
 
 THIS morning Richard Neal, of whom some 
 account is given on the 165th page, departed this 
 life for a better. He possessed but little knowledge, 
 yet it was of the right kind, it was evangelical, it 
 was practical. Extreme pain of body, long continu- 
 ed, he bore without repining, with truly Christian 
 fortitude. Concerning this black man, the mighty 
 might say, the honourable and the affluent might 
 say, " let us die the death of the justified person, 
 and let our last end be like his." 
 
 The young mother listened to the word of God, 
 with much apparent contrition, and profound atten- 
 tion. 
 
 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: I am on the verge of time and eternity: but 
 my conscience is at peace with God> and I am per- 
 fectly quiet about myself" 
 
 " Do you think then," it was demanded, " that you 
 have no sin?" 
 
 "No>,no! that's not my meaning; but God has 
 pardoned me, and given me peace through the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, and that's the reason I say ray con- 
 science is quiet. I'm going to the eternal world, and 
 I wish your prayers. I wish the prayers of all God's 
 people" 
 
 is 
 
206 
 
 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, un- 
 til I was leaving him ; when, 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, 
 kk viilany 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 concludes with these words: " now, 
 fellow-citizens, I am thankful to you for all the hospi- 
 table institutions that you have provided for all them 
 that labour under distressing circumstances, but I 
 have to regret that I have been swindled out of my 
 property, and kept out of it until this time, being 
 September 17th, 1811, which renders me an object 
 for the Almshouse." 
 
 Gratitude may occupy a mind, partially deranged ; 
 and if piety exists previously to insanity, we ought not 
 to suppose that the severe judgment warrants any 
 unfavourable conclusion concerning the soul's condi- 
 tion in the future life. 
 
•207 
 
 October 5th. 
 
 CAROLINE is afflicted with a new, but not dis- 
 graceful complaint, which requires surgical assistance. 
 She cannot 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 pro- 
 duced 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 mov- 
 ed. 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 inter- 
 course with the young sailor who was excited to re- 
 ligious inquiry, by my conversation with H — on *. 
 Now he is almost white as a sheet, and the writer 
 said, u friend, you cannot regain your wonted colour." 
 
 " No, Sir : and I fear I never shall, for I grow 
 Weaker. But still I hope to recover" 
 
 * See the 127 Ui page. 
 
208 
 
 " You must be prepared for death at all times, for 
 It will come when God sends it." 
 
 " It is my daily prayer, that I may be ready; and 
 I want to hear you preach again, but my cough pre- 
 vents me from hearing, and would disturb others." 
 
 " Then you must read the Bible, for that contains 
 the gospel." 
 
 " J did till lately : but 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 wil- 
 ling to pray : but I asked one of the patients below, 
 if he prayed, and he ." 
 
 "Aye, §ir! all the sick will tell you that they 
 pray, and I hope they do, but if they do'tft 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, 
 &c. but I wish I was. If I could be really a Chris- 
 Han, 'fkn'f I that would keer what they say." 
 
209 
 
 October 20th. 
 
 tt 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 sooner than his companious in the 
 focus of divine wrath ; and a man whom I have often 
 reproved, has told me repeatedly and with solemnity, 
 too, " that he expected to go to hell ; but this was 
 his consolation, that he could endure 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 infect- 
 ed, but says that " she has been seven years in the 
 professional 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 Las been 
 sick, and our psalmody indifferent ; but to-day he 
 resumed his office. During his fever I frequent- 
 ly visited and assisted him ; and now he has arisen 
 to reward me, by affording pleasure to the congrega- 
 tion of the poor. 
 
 18 * 
 
210 
 
 October 28th. 
 
 WHILE I was speaking to one of the lost fe* 
 
 males of the Hospital, another said, " Mr. E , 
 
 Mr. E ) 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 wrinkles, and looked horribly grim. 
 She could not weep, for the fountains were all dry. 
 Before I left her, she said, " O pray, pray for " 
 
 " For what shall I pray ?" 
 
 " TJiat God would bring me into his everlasting 
 salvation. 99 
 
 October 20tk. 
 
 YESTERDAY I visited again the dying prosti- 
 tute, and every individual of her room seemed af- 
 flicted by her distress. Her body is literally con- 
 sumed, while her life remains. To-day Dr. P 
 
 went with me to the Hospital, and offered prayers in 
 four rooms. We saw the same young woman again, 
 and this dialogue followed. 
 
 Dr. P. " Have you any hope ?" 
 
 Pros. " Some feeble hope, Sir." 
 
211 
 
 Dr. P. u Well, and what is the ground of you* 
 hope?" 
 
 Pros. " 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, and interceding for perishing sia- 
 ners." 
 
 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 added many similar quotations, 
 to her great encouragement. 
 
 November 3d. 
 
 REBECCA, who buried her mother, has lately 
 been married to a young and reputable man, a cur- 
 rier, to whom she was engaged before the death of 
 her parent. 
 
 In one ward of the Almshouse several have lately 
 died of the typhus fever. Soon after I preached 
 ihere 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 re- 
 main in the room, full of sick persons, until Monday. 
 On the day of its removal, the nurse, a faithful at- 
 tendant on the diseased, and a pious woman, was 
 seized with the same malady. It was painful indeed 
 to see one laid low, who had been serviceable to mul- 
 titudes; and affecting to behold the most respectable 
 
212 
 
 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, Sir; I shall go soon,"- was her reply, " but 
 " I cannot hasten the time. Sometimes I am almost 
 impatient 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 con- 
 stant hearers. After sermon I went ; but one was 
 dead, and her coffin, half full of pine shavings, for 
 her bed, was on the floor beside the lifeless body. 
 
 The girl with whom Dr. P conversed has en- 
 tered 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 last in my presence, while I com- 
 mented upon the scene, and sought to prepare the 
 beholders for the exchange of worlds. A man was 
 the preacher, but God made an immediate, practical 
 application of the discourse. 
 
213 
 
 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 G 11, which states, that the 
 
 letters to Mrs. M S 11 have been duly ad- 
 vertised, that diligent inquiries for such a person 
 have been made, and that no such person resides 
 either in that town or its vicinity. This letter was 
 inclosed and presented to Caroline, with another, of 
 which the following is a 
 
 COPY. 
 
 « New-York, Nov. 7th, 1811. 
 
 CAROLINE, 
 
 You must know that I feel deeply interested in* 
 your temporal and eternal welfare. You have re- 
 ceived 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 
 expecting a letter from your mother gave you pain. 
 You have deceived me ; but remember that I can 
 forgive, and forget. Yea, I could plead some extenua- 
 tion of your crime, for it was with reluctance that you 
 consented to my addressing your mother. Believe 
 
214 
 
 me still your friend, 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 woman too well 
 instructed, not to know your mother's name, and 
 the town, county, and state of her residence. I 
 beseech 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 j-our 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 par- 
 don of every sin ! 
 
 " Your friend, who, under Christ, would be your 
 preserver from misery and hell," 
 
21j 
 
 November 9 th. 
 
 THE matron of the Hospital sent me word, that 
 notwithstanding all her remonstrances, Caroline was 
 determined to leave the Hospital before she was 
 sufficiently restored to quit the city. My remon- 
 strances 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 
 destitute 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 Hospital, she said, but was firm- 
 ly resolved never to return to past iniquity. This 
 testimony concerning her resolutions could not be 
 accredited by any one, in case of her departure ; and 
 I told her that I should consider her discharge from 
 the Hospital, a voluntary plunge into the pit of des- 
 truction. 
 
216 
 
 November 10 th. 
 
 YESTERDAY, in the afternoon, crying and 
 trembling, the foolish Caroline left her safe aslyum. 
 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* 
 
 P *, a poor girl, who has been in the Hos- 
 pital many months, and who has conducted with 
 perfect propriety, says, " O that I could have simi- 
 lar proposals of protection.'* For months she has 
 dreaded nothing so much as the thought of being 
 discharged from the Hospital without the means of 
 subsistence. 
 
 An assurance that she should not be compelled 
 to return to a house of bad fame, while I could com- 
 mand a dollar, she received with a courtesy, a tear ? 
 and the declaration* that she felt herself unworthy 
 of such kindness. 
 
 * See page 104. 
 
21 
 
 November 14 th. 
 
 EARLY on Monday morning, the 11th instant, 
 I went to Long-Island, and did not return until this 
 evening. Immediately on my arrival my brother 
 invited me to go with him and see a sick woman. 
 Reluctantly I went a mile, and whom should I see 
 but Caroline ! Never did I expect to see her face 
 again ; but now I found her in a decent house, un- 
 der the care of a worthy woman, whose husband was 
 present. The circumstances which led to this meet 
 icg were these. 
 
 My brother, lately returned from England, had 
 accompanied me to the Hospital, on the sabbath, at 
 different times, and there had seen Caroline in tears. 
 What I supposed to be her history I had told him ; 
 and on the I Oth made him acquainted with her de- 
 parture, 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 abandoned in principle. He re- 
 quested to see her alone. She refused, saying that 
 she had been vile, but she would hereafter see no 
 gentleman alone. Her female companions entreated 
 her to comply, alleging that she was in want of mo- 
 ney, and had earned nothing since her return. She 
 absolutely refused to speak with him, in any other 
 19 
 
218 
 
 place than before company. He had now gained 
 the information which he desired, and presented to 
 her his card. 
 
 iC Are you his brother V 
 « Yes." 
 
 w And have you come to assist me?" 
 
 He assured her that he had come for that pur- 
 pose alone, and would seek her decent lodgings if 
 she would prefer them to her present abode. She 
 had returned to the house whence she went, when 
 received at the Hospital ; but she protested that she 
 had not returned from any disposition to live dis- 
 honestly. 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 gover- 
 nors 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 de- 
 ceived him ; for her mother's name was Martha, and 
 she did live in G — 11. " He concluded that my 
 mother's name was S — 11, because I went by that 
 surname." She then made my brother acquainted 
 with her own and her parent's real name, and pre- 
 sent 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 repent- 
 ance for her misconduct, my brother determined to 
 seek for her a better home. After several imsuc- 
 
219 
 
 cessful attempts, he met Mr. Joseph George, and 
 stated the whole affair. This young gentleman pro- 
 cured for her, whom I shall still call Caroline, her 
 present asylum, and went Avith my brother to re- 
 move 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 deceived. She expected, moreover, 
 that the patients, who were always threatening her 
 with the Almshouse, would reproach her more bit- 
 terly than ever. This did not excuse her from cen- 
 sure, mingled, nevertheless, with exhortation and 
 compassion,, 
 
 November 16th. 
 
 MR. GEORGE, and many others, have long 
 been revolving in their minds the plan of a Magda- 
 len Asylum; 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 necessary 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. Os- 
 borne, one of the Physicians of the Hospital, very 
 humanely attends upon her without money and with- 
 out price. 
 
220 
 
 December Mth. 
 
 SINCE others have taken the charge of Caroline, 
 I have gladly witnessed their exertions, and, to en- 
 courage 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 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 descend- 
 ed, 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, which proceeded from a log-house. This I 
 entered, and saw some children, naked almost as 
 they were born, sleeping in the ashes. Of the mo- 
 ther I demanded if she knew the family which I 
 sought to find. She did ; 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 direc- 
 tions, that the next morning, before it was light, I 
 galloped away many miles from the house of my 
 honourable friend; and before the sun had arisen 
 from the mountains I saw ihe mother of Caroline. 
 
221 
 
 The resemblance in their features assured me thai 
 there could be no mistake. The mother was card- 
 ing cotton in an old-fashioned farm-house ; and had 
 every appearance of the decent poverty of one who 
 had seen happier days. 
 
 Before I discovered my business, she told me the 
 number, 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? 5 ' 
 
 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 
 discovered 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 beginning of the, 
 year 1812, "the Magdalen Society of New- York" 
 was organized, of which Peter Wilson, L. L. D is 
 President, John Murray, Jun. Vice-President, Tho- 
 mas L. Ogden, Secretary, John dsfiinzvall, Treasurer ; 
 and Divie Bethune, Abraham Russel, John Cauld- 
 19 * 
 
222 
 
 December 12tk. 
 
 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 unknown. He is an American, who 
 
 well, Leonard Bleeker, J. E. Caldwell, Robert Gos- 
 man, Thomas Harvey, James Bleeker, Nicholas 
 Fish, John Withington, Jacob Delamontagne, Sam- 
 uel Harris, Zechaiiah Lewis, Samuel Boyd, Joseph 
 Smith, Nathan Comstock, and J. P. Mumford, are 
 Managers, The standing Committee, 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 institution from which she 
 fled. 
 
 About the beginning of June, 1812, a woman, ad- 
 vanced in life, appeared on the sabbath at the gate 
 of the Hospital, and requested admittance Visit* 
 ers on the sabbath are excluded, and she was there- 
 fore denied. She entreated that she might at least 
 see the preacher. He went to the gate, knew her 
 face, and understood, without any explanation, 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 »" 
 
223 
 
 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 middle age, who seems to have been seriously 
 aroused from spiritual lethargy, while in the Hos- 
 pital 
 
 " After 1 have heard you preach," she said, <v I 
 should be glad to learn of you " 
 
 " Yes, yes, you shall see the person," the preach- 
 er 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 sud- 
 den and unexpected. They wept together ; and 
 when the preacher commenced public worship, 
 the poor old woman was still bending over her weep- 
 ing child. Yea, during the whole service, the mo- 
 ther 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 
 restored to soundness, and has returned to her afflict- 
 ed parent. 
 
 What will become of this miserably seduced per- 
 son, 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 
 
224 
 
 December 13$, 
 
 THIS evening the suicide became furious against 
 himself; said he might as well die now as confess 
 his sins to 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 16th. 
 A YOUNG man, who has heard me preach for 
 many weeks in the Hospital, who was convalescing 
 in the Almshouse, but who now has a fever, request- 
 ed that I would come and see him once more before 
 his death. Poor fellow ! he could not converse ; he 
 
 all the future, should it be known to the writer, it 
 will be best to draw the vail of night. It is suffi- 
 cient, that the influence of her history in giving rise 
 to the Magdalen Society, has already been exhibited. 
 Should that Institution be conducted on the princi- 
 ples of similar charities in Europe, it will undoubt- 
 edly be productive of much good It has already 
 received P— «, and some ethers. Should the mem- 
 bers merely save an individual annually, their la- 
 bours would not be without an adequate reward in 
 the present life. Let it never be forgotten, that Je- 
 sus kindly instructed the woman of Samaria, who 
 was living in an illicit connexion ; and that publi- 
 cans and harlots enter the kingdom of heaven 5 
 while multitudes of the censorious are excluded. 
 
225 
 
 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 bu- 
 sy mortals ? 
 
 December 17th. 
 
 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 thun- 
 ders. 
 
 It is seriously to be apprehended, that compara- 
 tively 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. According to his statement, he was born in 
 Salem, Massachusetts, and has been for many years 
 a bold, profane, rampant tar. Until two years ago 
 he was the chief of bullies ; would defy every man ; 
 and when on shore, found the highest gratification 
 in a riot. His mother and grandmother 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 hio heart this question r « how can I ever expect 
 
226 
 
 to meet that pious relative V s 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 contemplative, 
 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 be- 
 ing 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 re- 
 ceive a hundred dollars. " 
 
 December 13//t. 
 P — G — , dying with the rapid consumption, is 
 still solicitous 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 
 smanuens is, one of his fellow-patients, he dictated 
 the following 
 
 LETTER. 
 
 « New-York Hospital, ISth Dec. 1311. 
 
 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 1 am very sick 
 in the New- York Hospital, and to all appearance 
 near to the end of my life. And as I am destitute 
 
227 
 
 of money, and wish to be buried in some decent 
 manner, which cannot be done without it, I there- 
 fore 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 unmolested. 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 my- 
 self 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, be- 
 fore I die. I am a great sinner ; 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." 
 
228 
 
 December 19th. 
 
 IN one ward of the Almshouse, in which I pray- 
 ed, 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 im- 
 mortal souls. Two of these persons were M. B. 
 and A. W. 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. 
 
 December 23rd. 
 THIS evening P — G — died, with a composed 
 spirit. When he felt himself near the eternal world, 
 he was unconcerned 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 % 
 
 * The letters which were forwarded to the friends of P — G-= 
 were not received until long after his death. Immediately on the. 
 reception, the father directed a very affecting letter to roe, in. 
 which he inquires after his son j snd proffers him, if living, ail 
 suitable assistance. 
 
229 
 
 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 gratitude to this gentleman in a poeti- 
 cal address, of which the following is 
 
 AN EXTRACT. 
 
 " To soothe 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* 
 
 thai most of the ministers of the gospel, who preach 
 
 in rotation at the prison, give only the service of 
 
 ba!i the sabbath, because it is inconvenient to desert 
 
 20 
 
230 
 
 their respective churches ; while Mr. S — — -, 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 address to Mr. Stanford in the Lathi language, 
 which he translated, and presented to the superin- 
 tendent in a letter, which for elegance and delicacy 
 of compliment has rarely been surpassed by any 
 pen. The following is 
 
 A COPY OF THE LETTER. 
 
 " To Nicholas Roome, Esq. 
 Indulgent Sir, 
 
 Permit me, through the medium of yourself, to 
 present the Rev. Mr. Stanford with a new-year s gift. 
 The friendly and disinterested manner in which he 
 has so frequently addressed us, has impressed me, 
 and, I sincerely believe, many others, with a deep 
 sense of our obligations. I am not authorized to ad- 
 dress him in behdf of the prisoners, though indi- 
 viduals cordially assent, but beg leave, in the com- 
 mencement of the new year, to give him a small to- 
 ken of our gratitude. The mode may appear novel. 
 I have written it in Latin* not with a view to exhi- 
 bit a specimen of an imperfect and much impaired 
 education, but merely to pay a just compliment to 
 Mr. Stanford's superior understanding. For your 
 own personal convenience, I have annexed to this a 
 translation, as literal as the peculiar idioms of the 
 two languages would permit. There are, undoubt- 
 edly, many imperfections ; but Mr. Stanford's well 
 
231 
 
 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 an equal claim. For the numerous instances 
 of your past kindness, I wish you, on this occasion, 
 a restoration of your health. May you liberally en- 
 joy 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 
 ©Id age. 
 
 " With sentiments of gratitude I subscribe my- 
 self the unfortunate, 
 
 O— - P » 
 
 A Copy of the inclosed translation. 
 "a new year's gift, 
 ** With diffidence addressed to the most reverend John 
 Stanford, Master of Arts, Doctor of Divini- 
 ty, and the friend of man*. 
 " If it be proper for me, a wretch, confined in a 
 prison and clothed with disgrace, to greet you ; con- 
 templating the events of the past year, and your 
 numerous endeavours to instruct our ignorant minds, 
 I wish you the blessings of heaven. Your labours, 
 in consoling the wretched and drawing souls to the 
 
 * The English reader will remember, that this is the UStfal 
 ityle of address, which was used among the polite Romans', 
 
232 
 
 Saviour of sinners, demand our thanks. I hare 
 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 humon'ty of the speaker. 
 While the body languishes through grief, you nour- 
 ish the soul by gospel food. 
 
 " As hard wax is rendered soft by fire, so by 
 your discourses stubborn hearts are prepared to re- 
 ceive the impressions of divine truth; and, while 
 the mind wanders in errour, you point out the way 
 which leads to eternal happiness. 
 
 « For your kind services, with which we have 
 so frequently been favoured, I pray that your pros- 
 perity may be increased, this year ; that you may 
 live long here below ; and when you quit this mor- 
 tal 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, 
 
 O P ." 
 
 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 an- 
 swer for the State's Prison," has forgotten that fools 
 lire never rogues. Perhaps six hundred hearers, 
 who possess equal acuteness with the prisoners, can- 
 not easily be assembled in any church. They very 
 
soon discover what they think of the talent and 
 feeling 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 ordinances, 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 28^. 
 ON Thursday last, I visited fifty sick persons in 
 the Almshouse ; on Friday, four wards in the Hos- 
 pital ; and to-day, five poor families. In one, to 
 
 which I went at the 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 
 inscription, and exquisitely tender. 
 
 December 30/ft, 
 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 m . e me to declare that I am confi- 
 dent of pardon, but I cannot, I will not say any 
 such thing. I cw* only s y, that I submit myself 
 to the will of God, having some feeble hope that he 
 20 * 
 
•234 
 
 will accept me as righteous for the sake of Christ, 
 and make me happy in heaven." 
 
 The history of this man is short. He was bom 
 in Scotland, was a baker by profession, and remov* 
 ed to this country with his wife. She became in 
 temperate in the use of ardent spirits, and squander- 
 ed his earnings. They quarrelled, and he forsook 
 her. A shock of the palsy disabled him, and then, 
 for his maintenance, he began to peddle small books, 
 songs, and pictures. He took a housekeeper, with 
 whom he lived unlawfully, who was a drunkard, no 
 less titan 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 neighbour- 
 ing 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 insensi- 
 ble beside him. In his fury he arose, " half drunk- 
 en, 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 p inter, with a picture 
 of the same gallows to which the law's of God and 
 his country require him to come. 
 
 " — — — — Around the bed of loose desire, 
 For ever hover wild, tumultuous dreams ; 
 Some vengeful brother wills the duel dire, 
 The ghost of some Uefloured woman screams : 
 
235 
 
 Some chaste "Lucina, butcher'd, bleeding lies, 
 "While angry Justice whets her fiaming sword ; 
 By treachery stabb'd some worthier rival dies, 
 And the grim hangman knots the shameful cord." 
 
 W. M. Johnson 
 
 December 31st- 
 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. 
 
 tl That might with Hebe's or Hvgeia's vie ; 
 
 " Content and pleasure made that breast their home 
 
 " That now, so bare and purple, braves the sky.'* 
 
 W. M. Johnson's M S. 
 
 HAVING brought my journal to the last day of 
 the year, I propose to conclude it, by giving a short 
 history of several insane persons, whom I have 
 seen, in different situations. Where I have seen 
 them, will not always be said ; nor can it be a mat- 
 ter of much consequence to the reader ; but upon 
 the fidelity of my representations may be placed 
 firm reliance. What I have seen J must believe, 
 and what I shall write from the testimony of others, 
 is from such credible 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 pro- 
 duced his insanity ? To give a medical dissertation 
 on this subject, were it in my power, would not 
 
236 
 
 be my province ; but to treat of several mora! 
 causes of mental derangement, may subserve the in- 
 terests 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 soldi, 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, exposes his rational facul- 
 ties. Avarice, lust, infidelity, and imprudence, are 
 the prolific causes of more than half that disorder 
 which bears various names, under its different ap- 
 pearances, from a wild imagination to family. 
 
 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, after a few days of anxiety on the sub. 
 ject, 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 bedlamite for 
 such a paltry consideration ? Yet this young wo- 
 man 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'r; guilt, to reach the glittering prize ?" 
 
 Pjtt, 
 
 The love of country is commendable, but when 
 Unrestrained, it is madness. From this cause I have 
 
237 
 
 seen a German, who 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 apprised of their an- 
 swers. 
 
 Another man I know, who marches up to every 
 stranger, whom he is permitted to see, with the 
 brim of his hat folded 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 tremble, but 
 there is no danger ; for the young man, tall and ma- 
 jestic, even in rags and filth, is one of 
 
 " Rough nature's children, humorous as she.'' 
 
 He was 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 particular- 
 ly, 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 
 returned to it, and left nothing but the erect animal 
 in America. 
 
 Let us learn then, not to love the place of our na- 
 
238 
 
 iivity 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 con- 
 dition. His family he left behind, because he could 
 pay for only one passage, and knew not how he 
 should succeed in America. Here he found con- 
 stant employment, and resolved to remove his fami- 
 ly, so soon as he could send them sufficient 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 seven- 
 ty, to deliver to a captain, who bad engaged to bring 
 him his partner and child. He was on his way to 
 the ship, with all his property in hi3 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-shcp ; and he 
 in his prosperity began to treat them. In return 
 they made him drink. The social whisky went 
 round, and round again, until the unfortunate young 
 
239 
 
 mail sunk down in slumber on the floor, In the 
 morning he awoke, chiding himself for his folly; 
 and here his misery commenced. He felt in his 
 pockets for his money ; but it was in vain. His se- 
 "ducers and his money 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 medi- 
 cine cured his raving, but left him in a state of fatu- 
 ity. Now he cares nothing for the friends he once 
 loved, nothing for bis wife, nothing for his child ; and 
 will probably die in stupidity. Such were the re- 
 sults 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 hos- 
 pitality here, command nothing more than the hard, 
 but welcome fare of Erin, it would be productive of 
 little evil ; but in America, one who would give his 
 guest a potatoe 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 dependent on alms for subsistence. Once, 
 she had friends and possessions, leased several hous- 
 es, and lived in affluence. She was single, and, in 
 middle age, avarice became her predominant passion. 
 After an ominous course of extortion, a quarter-day 
 arrived, on which she sallied forth to collect rente. 
 
240 
 
 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 
 been hitherto punctual in payments ; and would now 
 have been had she not been subject to unusual ex- 
 penditures. When the griping landlady called, the 
 poor woman was unable to leave her bed. 
 
 " Pay me that thou owest," said the maiden lady. 
 
 u Wait a little while, and I will pay thee all," 
 said the tenant, and plead the peculiarity of her ch> 
 cumstances, 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 mother to sell 
 it at auction, the child of sorrow, the mother in an- 
 guish 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 per- 
 son 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. Suit- 
 able clothing is offered her, but she will not receive 
 it, because she was " not accustomed to such attired* 
 
241 
 
 I have seen her bare-foot in the midst of winter, be 
 cause she could not obtain kid shoes and silk stocks 
 ings ; and she is always bare-headed in the rain and 
 sunshine, because she wants a tasty bonnet. 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 woolen garments. 
 
 " ■ — — — — — 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 
 excite 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 
 demon ; it pervades the life ; and is likely to be 
 lasting as futurity, 
 
 DISAPPOINTMENTS. 
 
 A young lady, the daughter of a judge, had high 
 expectations 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 
 21 
 
242 
 
 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. 
 1 have seen her seated in a window, where she would 
 remain silent the livelong day ; and, unless charity 
 had forbidden, would have remained the livelong 
 night. Her large blue eyes were intensely fixed ou 
 nothing visible to rational beings, and she refused to 
 speak. Sad, indeed, was her love of splendour and 
 affluence ! The change which she experienced was 
 mortifying to vanity ; but more humbling to humani- 
 ty was the effect of disappointment. 
 
 A similar instance of insanity I have seen, in a 
 young man, who, for several years, was particular in 
 his attentions to one of the most pleasing maids of 
 his native village. She apparently reciprocated his 
 fondness ; but before his financial concerns would 
 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 mar- 
 ried 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 confirmed, he got off his brother's vessel 
 from the wharf, and was going out to sea ^ith the 
 
tide. The pilots came along side of him, anjj de- 
 manded what hands were on board. He said lie 
 had a mate below. They insisted on seeing him, 
 and behold, the maniac brought up on deck his cat, 
 which w r as his mate, and the only companion of his 
 intended voyage. To prevent him from performing 
 similar actions, his friends have put him into a stale 
 of confinement, where he has all the blessings which 
 one in his condition is able to receive. 
 
 A third case of disappointment, which I shall slate, 
 is that of a blooming young woman, who married 
 an aged man, from the hope of enjoying his afflu- 
 ence. After marriage she found the scrutoire lock- 
 ed against her, and instead of indulging herself in the 
 elegancies of society, she was forced to live economi- 
 cally. 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 parsimony, she 
 would sand her 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 ten or 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 
 91 May rush to wealthy marriage toe, 
 
 " And make a world of love.'* 
 
 Watts. 
 
 None but fools despise money ; but matrimony 
 requires some other foundation. 
 
 A fourth instance of insanity, from disappoint- 
 
L'44 
 
 ment, may be found in the person of a stately French*, 
 man ; who was a planter in one of the West-Indian 
 Islands. He was in affluence,, but lost his estate by 
 the misconduct of a commercial 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 de- 
 jected. 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 
 npon it, by painting the word white, before his 
 name. This however did not obviate the difficulty, 
 for, according to his imagination, every person still 
 thought him black. His delirium increased, and he 
 forsook his shop to rove the sire ts. All the scraps 
 of w r aste paper which he could find he thought were 
 checks, or bank notes. With these he frequented 
 the custom-house and banks of the city ; until the 
 clerks, to be rid of this troublesome merchant, allow- 
 ed 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. Property 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 
 hatred of those, who had defrauded him, or of those 
 who thought him black. I have seen him in the 
 
245 
 
 streets, loaded with paper, and swollen with rage. 
 To cure him if possible 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 
 manners, presents a fifth case. In childhood she was 
 first among her school-mates, and although her pa- 
 rents were poor, yet they were reputable, and asso- 
 ciated 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 ad- 
 dresses of some of the most flourishing young far- 
 mers of the neighbourhood. Several offers of mar- 
 riage were so flattering to her vanity, that she pre- 
 sumed to think, that she could command any alli- 
 ance, (an imagination very common to the gay and 
 prosperous,) and therefore the young men of her vil- 
 lage were allowed tp 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 <nrJ was 
 made," said he, " for something more than a seam- 
 stress." 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 
 21 * 
 
246 
 
 made than accepted. 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 gratified ; but her head was not 
 in a right condition for calculations. She could more 
 easily count the profits of a day's labour, than the 
 loss and gain upon a box of golden ornaments. She 
 became a bankrupt ; and in consequence of the cha- 
 grin and vexation which she experienced, a lunatic. 
 Her uncle could not manage her, for she had now be- 
 come 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 the mistress of 
 coaches, castles, and palaces. Her form is still erect, 
 •*nd her manner studiously dignified. She is in con- 
 iinement ; but her abode is her palace, and all the 
 maniacs are her servants. For a long time she re- 
 fused to do any manner of work, and would go na- 
 ked 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 
 forgotten the use of her needle. 
 
 A gentleman saw her making a shirt, and said, 
 " are you at work, then ?" 
 
 « O no, Sir," was her reply, " J was sewing a 
 little fine work to absorb the perspiration of my fin- 
 gers" 
 
 Every thing is said and done by her in the same 
 
 style. Had she a few thousands, yearly, possibly 
 
 i^ht net conduct more like an insane person 
 
247 
 
 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 sattin trimm'd 
 
 * With lace, and hat with splendid ribband bound, 
 
 t{ A serving maid 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, 
 
 4C Would oft anticipate his glad return, 
 
 " And dream of transports she was not to know. 
 
 *' She heard the doleful tidings of his death, 
 
 " And never smil'd 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 pre- 
 vented a match. This disappointment made the 
 young maid insane. She has left raving ; but stupi- 
 dity 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 even- 
 ing Her eye is black, her hair dark, and the up- 
 per 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 from the nose down, there is nothing, 
 but the yellow Scotch ornament. 
 
 All she desires, is, " to go home ; for then some- 
 body who came to see somebody, would come again 
 
248 
 
 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 friend* 
 and relatives not to interfere, when young persons 
 are disposed prudently to 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 practice, that we 
 accord with the divine opinion, which decides, 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 seems the part of wisdom, and no sin 
 
 " Against the law of love, to measure lots 
 
 u With less distinguish'd than ourselves ; that thus 
 
 " We may with patience bear our mod'rate ills, 
 
 " And sympathise with others, sufFring more." 
 
 Thus the exquisite poet Cowper sung, who loved- 
 in early life. one of humble circumstances, and possi- 
 bly might have been saved from long years of mad- 
 ness, had not the pride of his relatives interfered with 
 Ms 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. 
 
249 
 
 DRUNKENNESS. 
 
 MORE than half of the persons whom I have 
 seen insane, were brought into that state by an in- 
 temperate use of ardent spirits. It will be sufficient, 
 under this head, to state one instance. 
 
 J. P , an Englishman, a dresser of mo- 
 
 Focco-leather, had been accustomed to malt liquors in 
 his native country ; but in America found ardent 
 spirits cheap and much in fashion. He was indus- 
 trious, and, it is said, more skilful in his line of busi- 
 ness 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 continued 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 misconduct, and solemnly warned him 
 to drink no more spirits. Admonition, and sad ex- 
 perience, 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 ob- 
 ject. A second time he was cured, and very wisely 
 took his departure from tins country for the land of 
 good malt liquor. 
 
2.50 
 
 NOVELS. 
 
 NOT for the sake of disquisition on romance, ab- 
 surdity, and the favourite books of many gentlemen, 
 as well as ladies of little thought, is this article intro- 
 duced ; but to state a fact, which may prove a salu- 
 tary warning to such persons as cannot read the 
 scriptures for an hour, but having perused a novel 
 all day, carry it to bed for their entertainment by 
 night. 
 
 I have seen a young lady, whose eyes seem to 
 flash fire, and whuse tongue is never silent. She 
 sings songs with enthusiasm, and can scarcely be 
 dissuaded by any thing, but a desire to give and re- 
 ceive compliments, from giving twenty love-ditties 
 in succession. Her animation" increases until the 
 soft voice becomes a savage yell; and the eye, 
 which sparkled with delight, is suffused with an un- 
 meaning tear. The exertion creates an increased 
 action 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 disposition, of her maniac compan- 
 ions, to make her quiet ; for mad persons rarely re- 
 gard the fancies of one another. I have often ob- 
 served that those, who are anxious for conversation 
 with rational visitants, will not deign to speak to 
 their miserable associates? because, forsooth, « they 
 
251 
 
 =are crazy f" I have been led about by a crazy 
 young man, of liberal education, amongst a host 
 of lunatics, 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 confin'd 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 
 attachment to novels. She read them incessantly, 
 and rejoiced at pleasures, which were never experi- 
 enced ; or wept for griefs, which were never endur- 
 ed. What once was called sensibility in her, be- 
 came 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, un- 
 less 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 stranger entered, but her 
 whole attention was absorded 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, a^d 
 captivating admirers, as easily as the knight of La 
 - 
 
252 
 
 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 singing, dancing, and 
 wild excess, he was reduced to composure. The 
 powers of his mind have suffered 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, in many cases, is either a physical evil pro- 
 duced by the previous treatment, or it results from 
 the loss of that mental discernment and caution 
 which kept them from too free indulsnence 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 
 children, who, m a fit of industry, read by the light 
 of a fire. To read in the twilight, before it is suffi- 
 ciently dark to require a lamp, is injurious ; for those 
 who have attempted it must know, that it requires a 
 
253 
 
 painful effort, not only of the optical organs, but oi* 
 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*;-, 
 
 11 For merchants rich in cargoes of despair, 
 
 " Who drive a loathsome traffic, gage and span, 
 
 " And buy, the muscles and the hones of man ? 
 
 " The tender ties-of father, husband, friend, 
 
 •* All bonds of nature in that moment end ; 
 
 " And each eudures, 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 ex- 
 pected. 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 brother 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, aud under constant fear of 
 being pursued by his owner. The dread of being 
 again reduced to hard servitude operated so powerful- 
 ly on his mind as to produce insanity. After a confine 
 
-254 
 
 uient of many months, he has become tolerably ra- 
 tional, loves to be trusted, and performs any confi- 
 dential 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 derangement, he would assist in re- 
 ducing a white maniac to obedience, 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. 
 
 w 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 re- 
 cognize his own features in the lines of this memoir, 
 feel some shame for his iniquity, when he finds his 
 baseness made public, I shall not repent the dis- 
 closure. 
 
 The young woman, of whom I speak, was a Cre- 
 ole, of that mixed complexion, which is very com- 
 mon in the southern section 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, and 
 paid her such kind attentions as a sensualist may, 
 to pamper his own insatiable concupiscence. Igno- 
 rant of all religious principles as himself, she felt 
 no compunction, but rather rejoiced in her exalte- 
 
256 
 
 tion above the lot of common servants. The plan 
 ter, not long since removed 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 ad- 
 mit of his familiarity with a Creole slave. There 
 are fashions in lust ; and the honourable monster in 
 society must live as the fashions direct. Far to the 
 south, fashion admits of a downright black for a 
 concubine ; but in the north, he may openly mam- 
 tain, 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 
 maintain the morality of northern bloods, and there* 
 fore concluded to put away his favourite. What to 
 do he could not easily decide, but finally he com- 
 municated 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 ac- 
 customed, 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. 
 
 t( IWf slav'ry ! — virtue dreads it a3 her grave : 
 
 " Patience itself is meanness in a slave. 
 
 f § Or, if the will and sov'reignty of God 
 
 M Bid suffer it awhile, and kiss the rod, 
 
 " Wait for the dawning of a brighter day, 
 
 vf ^ And snap the chain the moment when you may. 
 
 " Nature imprints upon whate'er we see, 
 
 v< That has a heart and life in it— Be free I" 
 
256 
 
 INCONTINENCE! 
 
 TVo instances of insanity which have come under 
 iny observation, have been caused by the inconti- 
 nence of husbands. 
 
 An honest, sober, industrious Irish woman, with 
 her husband, came to this country, and, by selling 
 • he milk of a few cows, obtained comfortable suste- 
 nance. 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 en- 
 chantress, 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 ! She went 
 mad. 
 
 It was no consolation to her, that she had a com- 
 panion of similar sorrows, in the person of a bloom- 
 ing young woman, who married a son of Neptune. 
 She was enterprising, 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 imme- 
 diate cause of the madness of this female was a vio- 
 lation 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 
 
257 
 
 destruction. This dispersed the family, and from 
 grief of heart the married sister became insane. 
 
 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 woman. — For by means 
 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 in- 
 continence of the guilty person. She was seduced 
 and went to London to make merchandize of herself, 
 with more readiness than in any other place. Here 
 she kept a house of ill fame ; and after having been 
 in New-gate 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 vo- 
 luntarily 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 
 excesive lewdness produced madness. She admits 
 that she has been " out of her head, in consequence 
 of jealousy. " Her complaint has been of long con- 
 22 * 
 
258 
 
 trnuance. For months she has thought herself the 
 blessed Trinity, all things past, present, and to come, 
 and at the same time, the devil. These imagina- 
 tions gave her inconceivable distress. After she had 
 told me all this, with great agony, and with utter ab- 
 horrence of all who doubted the truth of her asser- 
 tions, she affirmed, that she proceeded from the 
 Father, 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 conceived 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 im- 
 mortal. 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 
 Ihe 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 things are supported by her prayers : 
 
 A wretched female, who was once beautiful ; who liv- 
 ed in splendour ; who has become more insensible than 
 the brutes ; but who was once the mistress of that 
 fallen man, whose hands still bear the stain of mur- 
 der : 
 
 A more miserable French girl ;.more miserable be- 
 cause now rational, but unhappy, whom I have heard 
 sing with the sweetest voice, while she played a melt- 
 
259 
 
 ing air upon her guitar, with all the soul of melan- 
 choly, in the cool of evening : 
 
 But I for bear. Sad victim of seduction ! 
 
 " She sat beneath the birchen tree, 
 ." Her elbow resting on her knee ; 
 " She had withdrawn the fatal shaft, 
 " And gaz'd on- it, and feebly laugh'd." 
 
 Had it been possible, the feeling heart would have 
 given assistance, and gladly would have restored per- 
 manent tranquillity. 
 
 " Stranger, it i« in vain !" she cried. 
 " This hour of death has given me more 
 ■* Of reason's power than years before ; 
 " For as these ebbing veins decay 
 " My frenzied visions fade away. 
 ** A helpless injured wretch I die V" 
 
 Scott. 
 
 THE MANIAC'S CREED. 
 
 One of whom I had heard, called to see me in & 
 chamber where I was writing. I did not know his 
 person, and therefore when a stranger, respectable in 
 appearance, of light complexion and pleasant coun- 
 tenance, made his appearance, I thrust aside my pa- 
 per, 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 deliberation of two 
 philosophers we entered into conversation, and he 
 soon made some observations, which induced me to 
 resume the pen, that I might render permanent the 
 maniac's creed. He was rot displeased at it, but 
 said, " you are welcome to record the past, but I 
 
26f 
 
 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 
 scriptures inform us, that Cain killed Abel many 
 thousand years ago, 
 
 " Oh ! the Bible has committed many such mis- 
 takes, as I know by my own experience ; for I am that 
 identical Abel, and his brother only apparently kill- 
 ed him. After that affair, I appeared under the form 
 of Joseph the son of Jacob, but was Abel and Jo- 
 seph too." 
 
 " Did your brethren," I asked, " sell you ; and was 
 you actually sold in Egypt ?" 
 
 " Oh ! no ! there the Bible is in an error again ; 
 for I was only confined awhile in the iron mines in 
 Scotland. Joseph's brethren never did sell him in- 
 to Egypt : I know they did not, for I am that Jo- 
 seph, and should not I know ?" 
 
 " Joseph, however, died in Egypt." 
 
 " Ah ! I appeared to die ; but did not, for I was 
 afterwards 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 nie> where was you born?" 
 
261 
 
 "Why, I have had different bodily forms ; but my 
 present 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 conscious- 
 ness and memory. He has a wife and several chil- 
 dren. He had propertv, but was defrauded by wick- 
 ed neighbours, and this calamity, together with his 
 deism, reduced him to his present condition. I told 
 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 
 Trhity 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 no body, 
 is as good a job as he can do for his soul." 
 
 Here I desired to know what he intended by pay- 
 ing 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 
 
262 
 
 all these righteous persons will be happy. The wick 
 ed 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 ser- 
 vice of everlasting vanity. That will be their pun- 
 ishment. 
 
 " Finally, I belive that my wife will go to heaven, 
 because 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 constant 
 !y affirms. 
 
 This creed is humbly submitted to the Arian and 
 Socinian teachers in America. Relinquishing in fa- 
 vour 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 
 
 L I , of reputable family, and of 
 
 Presbyterian parentage. In childhood he was re- 
 ligiously educated, and in youth was moral in his 
 habits. When he became a young man he read the 
 productions of Voltaire and other infidel writers. 
 
263 
 
 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 pecuniary transactions, and 
 as a neighbour was highly respected by the inhabit- 
 ants 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 traffick^to advantage. Previous to one of 
 
 his voyages, he visited a Mrs. C 11, at R — y, who 
 
 who is unusually pious. He was frequently a visitor 
 at the house of this good woman ; but on this visit, 
 which was in the summer, he was 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 u 
 
 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. 
 
264 
 
 and shuddered at the thought of meeting a holy 
 God in judgment. He expressed his great anxiety, 
 and in a^ony of mind renounced his delusions. 
 
 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 de- 
 sire 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 disputed, 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 is not for me to account for such mental 
 
 impressions as I have no doufyt H n actually 
 
 felt*. Let me simply state the fact. On his arrival 
 
 • On the 9th of June, 1812, that classical schplar, that elo- 
 quent orator, and that amiable man, the Rev. Joseph S. Buckmin- 
 ster, of Boston, died. On this same day, the Rev. Dr. Buckmin- 
 stei', who had not heard of his son's sickness, and who could not 
 have had any communication by human means, said to hi»*wife, 
 " my dear, Joseph is dead." She replied that he could not know 
 £hat, and his persuasion must have arisen from his fond anxiety. 
 
265 
 
 at home he found his mother dead. lie told his 
 friends what had been his presentiment ; and at 
 what hour he thought she breathed her last breath. 
 It proved, so nearly as the family could remember, 
 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 mother 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 
 
 habitually gloomy. He felt himself guilty and 
 wretched, but did not believe in Christ, the way to 
 pardon, peace of conscience, consolation in tribula- 
 tion, 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 ap- 
 prehensive 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, disco- 
 vered by one,'who held him up, until he was deli- 
 vered from the rope. Once he hung himself to a 
 
 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 ef 
 the Lord Jesii3 Christ, entered into his eternal rest. Many simi- 
 lar cases might be supported by indisputable evidence. Cannot 
 he who formed the mind communicate directly information, with- 
 out the intervention of the senses ? 
 
 23 
 
2S6 
 
 hook in the ceiling, but that having become rust}-, 
 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 pro- 
 truded by involuntary struggling, before suffocation 
 took place. Finally he was brought to a benevolent 
 Institution with his throat cut ; and was prevented, 
 for a time, from intruding into the presence of his 
 Judge. 
 
 After his wounds were perfectly healed, I convers- 
 ed with him on religious subjects, and he was per- 
 fectly rational, until the principles, to which he had 
 assented, were applied to his own case. 
 
 " God is able and willing to save unto the utter- 
 most all who come unto him." 
 
 " That is unquestionable,' 5 he would answer. 
 
 " Then he is able and willing to save you." 
 
 <c Oh! no! there are exceptions to all general 
 rules ; 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 
 iris thought, and he appeared to court misery, be- 
 cause 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 pos- 
 sessed that grace ; but it was only in a state of in- 
 sanity, and indescribable misery. To perform his 
 duty, he refused to shave, and for a long time en- 
 deavoured to starve himself. Finally he became 
 quite resigned, and said he would permit the Lord 
 
: 267 
 
 ^j puiiisii him, as much as he pleased, without in- 
 creasing the torment by his own abstemiousness and 
 self-denying inventions. The black man, who as- 
 sisted in putting him into the shower bath, he con- 
 ceived to be the devil ; and imagined that he was to 
 stand naked, and have cold drops of water fafl 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 something which he did not understand. Then 
 he would ask explanations of his keeper, and if his 
 remarks were unsatisfactory, would cast down the 
 book with indignation, beause it was incomprehensi- 
 ble. 
 
 Sometimes H — n would indulge himself for a few 
 moments in cheerful conversation, and then sudden- 
 ly check himself, and revert to his gloom, saying. 
 " but this is not suitable for one who to-morrow must 
 commence a perpetuity of torment." 
 
 Not long previous to his death, a brother, who 
 had been confirmed by him in unbelief, came to pay 
 him a visit. The conversation was deeply interest- 
 ing and solemn. 
 
 " Ben, you see the state I am now in ; and you 
 know how I was brought to this condition. My pre- 
 sent agonies are unutterable, and what must dam- 
 nation be to a guilty sinner?" 
 
 M O fudge ! fudge, John ! Cheer up ; doVt make 
 a fool of yourself! WJiy should you trouble your- 
 self about religion, and be gloomy?" 
 
268 
 
 " Yes, Ben, I have made a fool of myself by lead- 
 ing those accursed books, and despising the Bible. 
 You cannot 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 witness. 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 w y of 
 thinking ; for your present plan will not answer." 
 
 In this strain H — n conversed wrh his brothel' 
 for more than an hour ; but after all, Ben departed, 
 saying, " Oh ! poh ! John, doVt make a fool of your- 
 self!"' 
 
 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. 
 
 K. " A man must be in great agony, I think, and 
 must be very bold, to enter uncalled the eternal 
 world." 
 
 H. " 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 suffer- 
 ing. 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 
 lie condemned. But his sufferings he deemed unlike 
 those of other men. His were the agonies of one a! 
 
239 
 
 ready damned, who must suffer, or the eternal Judg^ 
 would suffer. He thought God was in misery so 
 long as he was out of hell. In an hour, therefore, 
 when nothing was apprehended, he made fast hi? 
 cravat to the grates of his window, 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 hard > 
 eneth himself, can escape everlasting burnings ? 
 Must we not say concerning many who imagine that 
 they choose the most favourable alternative, " in pre- 
 fering 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 Listing pain 
 
 c< Torments him. ." 
 
70 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 THE mind of the reader has now been conduct- 
 ed through many scenes of poverty, misery, and 
 madness ; and if some statements should be deemed 
 obnoxious to delicacy, the writer makes this apolo- 
 gy, that some persons may be warned by the record 
 of horrible facts, who would be unmoved at common 
 occurrences. There are many persons, whose feel- 
 ings are of a coarse texture, who require different 
 treatment from that which would be adapted to gen- 
 tle 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 attempt- 
 ed 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; 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 infor- 
 mation, may congratulate himself, that he has been a 
 witness of solemn scenes, without experiencing the 
 actual inconveniencies of one, who has been person- 
 ally 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. 
 
271 
 
 Since he has ceased to record the occurrences of 
 the day, the usual services of the stated preacher 
 have been performed. Many new cases of convic- 
 tion, and apparent penitence, have presented them- 
 selves ; and it is probable that the Journal of one 
 year, with few alteratious, would describe the moral 
 state of the Hospital and Almshouse for every year, 
 in which the same religious services should be per- 
 formed. 
 
 To those who have contributed to the support of 
 the author, he presents his thanks ; for they have 
 made him their almoner. It is his intention to 
 perform in future, so far as it is possible, the same 
 sort of service to the Hospital and Almshouse; 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 demand- 
 ed. 
 
 He cannot refrain from expressing a firm hope 
 that when God in his providence shall restore pros- 
 perity to our country, if not before, something will 
 be done to render the maintenance of some succes- 
 sor in his office permanent. 
 
 The instability of temporal property should make 
 those who 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 pub- 
 lic Hospitals and Almshouses of Europe, and of 
 
27i! 
 
 many cities in the United States, had their chap- 
 lains ; 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 poor 1 
 
 What father, or mother, can affirm, that the chil- 
 dren of the tenderest affections and most fond pa- 
 rental 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 miserably afflicted beings 
 with whom I have had ministerial intercourse, 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 in- 
 sanity, particularly, might be rendered useful. That 
 some appKcation of that part of the journal may be 
 made, I shall conclude this little volume, with 
 
273 
 
 THE MANIAC; 
 
 A SERMON, 
 
 Delivered at the Thursday Lecture, in Boston', 
 On the 1 4th of September, A. D. 1809*, 
 
 " Thou art beside thyself." Acts 26. 24. 
 
 THE learned Paul was esteemed a maniac. 
 
 Not, however, while he trusted in pharisaical mo- 
 rality 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 coun- 
 trymen, was wisdom, moderation and Catholicism. 
 
 The charge of madness was brought against Paul 
 for delivering a sensible, interesting end solemn ad- 
 dress ; for manifesting that same spirit which induc- 
 ed Stephen to promulgate Christianity, seal the 
 
 * Immediately after this Sermon was delivered, a copy of it for 
 the press was requested by many reverend gentlemen. The au. 
 thor's late observations on maniacs have more completely con= 
 vtneed him of the accuracy of his sentiments, which he then de- 
 livered ; and he is happy now to oblige many friends, by present- 
 ing them with the discourse, in connexion with the preceding- 
 ?ccount of insane persons 
 
274 
 
 truth with his blood, pray for his enemies, and com 
 mit his departing soul to the Lord Jesus, his omni- 
 present and Almighty Saviour. 
 
 The history connected with our text, and neces- 
 sary 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 af- 
 flicted 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 hea- 
 then to forsake the law of Moses. The ancient 
 ecclesiastical establishments they thought to be en- 
 dangered by the foundation of a new Church^. In- 
 stigated by resentment, and a zeal contrary to know- 
 ledge, the Scribes, Pharisees, and friends of a right- 
 eousness without faith in Christ, came upon the apos- 
 tle in the temple, and would have assassinated 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 castle, near the temple, quelled the tumult, 
 and delivered Paul from the tribunal of an enraged 
 populace. 
 
 * Great opposition was made at this time against the erection of 
 a certain new Church in Boston. 
 
275 
 
 Unwilling, "however, that the apostle should es* 
 Cape from their tender mercies, the multitude follow- 
 ed the soldiers, who were conducting him to the cas- 
 tle, and exclaimed, " away with him : but he for- 
 gave and pitied them ; he obtained liberty of speech, 
 and made his defence, in hope of their conviction. 
 Paul declared his manner of life, his early educa- 
 tion, 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 hea- 
 then, the Jews were wrought up to madness, and 
 exclaimed with the malevolence and fury of fiends, 
 * : Away with this fellow 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 
 iwo principal 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 Csesarea. 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, tem- 
 perance, and the future judgment, with such effica- 
 
276 
 
 cy, 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 fa- 
 thers, concerning the Messiah ; and to reveal his ex- 
 pectation of a future resurrection, when Jesus shall 
 judge the world in righteousness. He relates the 
 history of his miraculous conversion, and proves 
 himself to have been commissioned by Jesus Christ, 
 who personally appeared to him, after his crucifixion, 
 buryal, re-animation, and ascension. 
 
 Hear the conclusion of his eloquent defence. 
 
 " Whereupon, O king Agrippa, I was not diso- 
 " bedient to the heavenly vision ; but showed first 
 u unto them of Damascus, 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, 
 Kl 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 pro- 
 s' phets 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.' , 
 
27* 
 
 What was irrational in this discourse ? In what 
 respect did Paul conduct like a maniac ? He had 
 no sooner uttered these words, than Festus exclaim* 
 «d, with a loud voice, " Paul, thou art beside thy- 
 self: much learning doth make thee mad." 
 
 Passion did not dictate the reply; " I am not 
 mad, most noble Festus ; but speak forth the wordr 
 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 Avhat he said, in such persuasive and con- 
 vincing language, that the proud monarch, forget- 
 ting the prejudices of Judaism, confessed to the 
 prisoner, arraigned at his bar, " almost thou per suad- 
 est me to be a Christian." He was almost 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 insani- 
 
 Paul, my hearers, is not the only Christian, who 
 has been charged with madness, for a firm and spi- 
 rited adherence 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, ac- 
 tive believers are beside themselves. If any one is 
 anxious to know the way of salvation, and mourns 
 in spirit for his past transgressions, 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 frore 
 the pulpit, or in the private circle, as sincere person?, 
 
^?3 
 
 who befieve religion to be a matter of infinite con- 
 sequence, 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 
 tool, or a babbler employed by some self-created 
 pope*," who dares to assert, that God was in Christ, 
 manifest in the flesh ; that Jesus died, to save sin- 
 ners by his blood; that sinners must be renewed in 
 disposition by the Spirit of God; that the finally 
 impenitent shall die accursed ; and that every be- 
 liever shall be " kept, by the power of God, through 
 faith unto salvationf ." So absurd is the language of 
 the perfect teacher, sent from God, now esteemed, 
 that he is accounted mad, who preaches, that, 
 &i except a man be bom agcdn% he cannot enter in- 
 to the kingdom of God.'* In shorty every profess- 
 edly candid theologist, who contends for liberty of 
 conscience, which was never denied him, and em- 
 braces all errors in his unbounded charity, excepting 
 the error of maintaining with christian zeal the pure 
 doctrines of Christianity, will say to the spirit of 
 every departed Christian father, who opposed damn- 
 ing 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." 
 
 ■> * la the audience was a clergyman, who had lately used this 
 language against all Calvinists. 
 
 t 1 Pet. 1—5. 
 
 ± A Rev. Dr. was present who had pronounced this expres- 
 sion too indelicate for the pulpit. 
 
279 
 
 Paul was no maniac. It was Festus who was mad. 
 
 Those who scorn the lifeless morality of formal- 
 ists, 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 Jesu- 
 Christ," are not deprived of understanding. They 
 neither ask the pity of their opponents, nor deserve 
 their contempt*". 
 
 Truth constrains me to retort the charge of insa- 
 nity. 
 
 Those who lightly esteem the Rock of our salva- 
 tion, 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 believers, and even 
 Christian ministers, are chargeable with lunacy* 
 Every impenitent sinner is beside himself. 
 
 * When this sentence was uttered a Rev. Chauncean and So* 
 einian Universalist was seated in the same pulpit with the author . 
 Not lung previous to the delivery of this discourse, this gentleman 
 
 dined in company with Dr. K , a Calvinist, and with many 
 
 Socinian Teachers. Dr. K was too polite to commence & 
 
 controversy at the social board ; but the Socinian gentlemen gave 
 him many thrusts, which he did not attempt to parry, because u 
 Calvinist does not delight to draw his s;vord against those, who 
 attack him with bodkin*. Finally the Universalist said, " Wei:. 
 
 Dr- K , I sincerely pity the poor Calviniets : they have no" 
 
 tiling to say for themselves." 
 
 On hearing this the Calvinistic Doctor laid down his knife and 
 
 fork, saying, " Mr. , the Culvinists neither ask your pity, nor 
 
 deserve your contempt. You had much better reserve them for 
 
 your friends." From this text. Dr. K — :-roce<. 
 
 Christ to the whole circle, 
 
2S0 
 
 ^ It is an easy thing, 1 " you' will say, " for the 
 preacher to make bold assertions. It is of little 
 avail to call hard names." We grant this : and 
 <vish it to be considered as equally true, when the 
 defender of what we deem heresy calls sound doc- 
 trine 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 in- 
 troduce the testimony of God as conclusive upofi 
 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 " creat- 
 ed anew in Christ Jesus." Do you object to the 
 divine declaration, (for some have such impudence !) 
 and still say, <* assertion is not evidence 1" 
 
 Come then, self-styled friends of reason, and let 
 us trace an analogy between natural maniacs, and 
 those who renounce the Lord Jesus Christ. You 
 profess that you will listen to reason, while you dis- 
 pute against the word of life. 
 
 L Maniacs are much given to false imaginations : 
 and so are all the enemies of the cross. Beggars, 
 deranged in intellect, have thought themselves no- 
 blemen and kings, and in consequence of such false 
 ideas, have imagined that they ought to receive the 
 respect due to noble personages. 
 
 Others, bereft of their senses, have conceived 
 rheir best friends to be enemies, or have thought 
 themselves poor, wretched, and disconsolate, while 
 
281 
 
 # 
 
 surrounded by affluence, luxuries, and comforters. 
 Some lunatics have imagined that they could see 
 spirits in the air, or converse with the dead ; 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 conse- 
 quence of this delusion, took unceasing pains to 
 preserve their limbs from accidents, common to that 
 brittle substance. In fine, lunatics generally ima- 
 gine themselves and others to he, what they are ncl. 
 This is precisely the case with impenitent, unbe- 
 lieving, unrenewed sinners. They have false ima- 
 ginations concerning themselves, god, christ. 
 and the adversary of souls. They flatter them- 
 selves that ail these beings are, what they are not. 
 
 Often the wicked imagine themselves the chil- 
 dren of God, while they are sons of perdition. 
 They think to be Christians, without having that be- 
 lief of the heart, which is essential to every other 
 christian grace. 
 
 They are holy, and prepared for heaven, without 
 regeneration, sanctification, or one single exercise of 
 holiness. 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 of Jesus, while 
 they know not his voice, while they refuse to ac- 
 cept him as their prophet to instruct, their priest 
 24 *• 
 
282 
 
 to atone, and their sovereign to rule and defend ; 
 while he is constantly saying in his word, " I ac- 
 knowledge 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 
 »vhorn they hate : and now, again, too good to punish 
 themselves, everlastingly, for any of their crimes. 
 To suit their present purpose, they consider him as 
 axbritrary ; and to please another fancy, they will de- 
 ny that he created and governs the universe by pre- 
 ileterminate counsel. Jehovah saith, "my counsel 
 shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure," but they 
 eply, "decree is fate ; why then find fault? Thy 
 counsel is contingency; or human agency is con- 
 straint, and divine justice, all a farce." They con- 
 less that they have never experienced the washing 
 of regeneration, 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 him- 
 self a " God of vengeance," who will prove a " con- 
 suming fire." 
 
 Concerning Christ their imaginations are equally 
 wild. Some of the impenitent deem him an im- 
 postor, and denying the Holy Ghost to have had 
 supernatural influence in his conception, impiously 
 cdl him the illegitimate child of Mary. Others, of 
 almost equal audacity, afnrm, contrary to the word 
 of God, that he was the actual descendant of Jo- 
 
283 
 
 seph. 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 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 " the 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 ? 
 
 What seems to be a still stronger proof of insa- 
 nity, is the mutual coalescence between these opposers 
 of the true character of Christ. They agree to re- 
 ceive each other as the friends of Jesus, and enter- 
 tain complacency in the heresy of every co-partner. 
 They deem it passing strange, that those who wor- 
 ship 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 ?" 
 4i For many deceivers are entered into the world, 
 H who confess not that Jesus Christ is come in the 
 
 *< flesh. Whosoever transgresseth, and abideth 
 
 ;i not in the doctrine of Christ, hath not God. He 
 ' that abideth in the doctrine of Christ, he hath 
 if both the Father and the Son. If there come any 
 
-2U 
 
 * ttnto 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, seeking whom he may devour, unbelievers en- 
 tertain false imaginations. By some wonderful ma- 
 gic they have deprived Satan cf his disposition and 
 power to do injury. The murderer, from the be- 
 ginning, 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 at- 
 tempt to deliver an excommunicated person to Sa- 
 tan, that he might learn not to blaspheme, he would 
 deliver him to a large black picture in the child's 
 " hieroglyphical bible ;" for other devils, according 
 to mo dern 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 
 princfples ; and so do the enemies of Christianity. 
 Falsehood is often the foundation of ingenious specu- 
 lation. 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 digni* 
 
286 
 
 xy. Were his first principle true, his inference 
 would be just. The deluded person, who thought 
 himself glass, argued rationally, that great care was 
 necessary to pre?ent 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 unsanctified children of wrath, have by nature 
 very evangelical minds*, and are prepared for the 
 enjoyment of a holy God in heaven. All impeni- 
 tent sinners do not reason from the same principles ; 
 but like natural maniacs, each has his peculiar chain 
 of argumentation ; each, his own vein of madness. 
 One takes it for granted, that the everlasting pun- 
 ishment of the wicked is inconsistent with the di- 
 vine attributes ; and consequently deduces this in- 
 ference, 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 threatenings ; and so merciful, that 
 he cannot pardon one rebel, without teaching, that 
 the law never had a penalty, and that " iisli's broad 
 path leads round to heaven's doorf ." 
 
 A second person, who is beside himself, receives 
 it as an established truth, that God has never made 
 a revelation to man ; and therefore infers, that all 
 
 * A young clergyman was present, who preteuds that he was 
 once a Calvinist. He was asked if his wife was hopefully pi- 
 ous, and his answer was, " why, she always had by nature a 
 very evangelical mind." 
 
 f Triumph of Infidelity, 
 
the promises, denunciations, precepts, parables and 
 histories of the Bible, constitute " a tale of other 
 times.' ' 
 
 A thirt: madman is confident, that there is no fu- 
 ture state of existence, and hence argues that he 
 has nothing 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 en- 
 joy myself to-day ; to-morrow I die : and let eterni- 
 ty 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 foundation; 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 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 him- 
 self, that he is in a state of peace, safety, and felici- 
 ty. He deceives himself. He loves the delusion. 
 Is not this person beside himself? 
 
 III. Maniacs are often supremely attached to 
 trifles ; and so are all unbelievers. You, who have 
 been personally acquainted with the unhappy beings, 
 who are deranged 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 
 
287 
 
 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 cabi- 
 net of curiosities, 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 forhids, 
 
 " The livelong night.'' ■ 
 
 -t* ______ ___ — ———————— 
 
 44 She begs an idle pin of all she meets, 
 ** And hoards them in her sleeve ; hut needful food, 
 " Though press'd with hunger oft, or comelier clothes, 
 " Though pinch'd with cold, asks never."— 
 
 Copper, 
 
 In like manner, -the wicked are madly fond of 
 pebble stones and shells. They love dress, houses, 
 gardens, equipages, entertainments, and the fashion- 
 able amusements of the metropolis, more than the 
 immortal soul. They ask an " idle pin," a little 
 temporal pleasure, of all they meet ; but never pray, 
 " Lord, give us everlasting life." " "Who will 
 show us any worldly good V s is their cry ; and not 
 this, " Lord, lift upon us the light of thy count/ • 
 
286 
 
 Impenitent sinners ! your daily conversation and 
 conduct prove you guilty of this delirium. You 
 rave against the cheat, who defrauds you of a shil- 
 ling ; but feel no indignation against that aggregate 
 of iniquity, which made it necessary for the Son of 
 God to die. The Scriptures demand, " ought not 
 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 imperfec- 
 tions, incidental to humanity. We trust a little dis- 
 cipline will reclaim and rectify him: and prepare 
 him to enjoy a holy heaven, a holy God !" Should 
 any one touch your property, or lift up his little 
 iinger against your fame, you would swell with re- 
 sentment ; but let any one soothe your disturbed 
 conscience by bland expressions, or by some pleas- 
 ing illusion beguile you of heaven, and with a lunat- 
 ic's good nature, you bless the destroying, the ac- 
 cursed companion. "You love to have your atten- 
 tion fixed to your favourite toys : you smile, if any 
 one counts the number of your brass pins, or ad- 
 mires the elegance of your mansion : but if any 
 faithful friend urges you to be clothed with Christ's 
 righteousness ; to be fed with the bread of life, in- 
 stead of starving on husks ; to be comforted with 
 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 beer; 
 set on heavenly things. They are given to phsuv 
 
£89 
 
 toms. You retire to rest with a novel for your 
 prayer-book, or awake and consult your ledger as 
 the oracle of God. 
 
 IV. Maniacs are commonly their own worst ene- 
 mies ; 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 foaming with madness ? His own 
 imagination. Look at the demoniac 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 plea- 
 sure in the death of the sinner." It is not the 
 adversary ; for he can only tempt and accuse. 
 He has not the power of compulsion. " O Israel, 
 thou hast destroyed thyself." " They that ob- 
 serve 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 be- 
 side thyself. 
 
 V. Maniacs are insensible to imminent danger ; 
 and so are the enemies of the cross of Christ. 
 They will laugh while exposed to shipwreck, sleep 
 on a precipice, or cast stones at the lightnings of 
 
 25 
 
290 
 
 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. Altnough 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 judg- 
 ment, 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 fuD 
 persuasion that he shall awake in season, command 
 the winds and waves to obey him, and instantly ar- 
 rive 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* ;'* 
 
 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" 
 
 * Falcgppr* 
 
291 
 
 He feels secure ; but when mercy no longer 
 pleads forbear, he will sink into the bottomless abyss, 
 and find that vengeance belongs to the character of 
 a benevolent Deity. 
 
 Lastly. Maniacs cannot be convinced that they 
 are beside themselves. Neither can the impenitent. 
 Indeed, nothing enrages a madman more, than to 
 tell him seriously, and affectionately, that he is un- 
 der the guidance of a distempered mind. In a rage 
 too, impenitent sinners accuse the ministers, people, 
 and word of God, of madness. Who was he that 
 said, " Because I tell you the truth, ye believe me 
 not ?" It was the God who dwelt among us. " S6 
 then, I have become your enemy," exclaimed 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 combinM ; 
 " And none but a believer 
 u The least relief can find." 
 
 To those, who confess the insanity of sin and the 
 madness of unbelief, God has given the spirit of 
 power, and of love, and of a sound mind. Other 
 persons are prevented by their delirium of sic* 
 from perceiving that they are poor, miserable, blind 
 and naked ; and that they take the most effectual 
 measures to exclude relief. 
 
 * Macknight's Translation. 
 
292 
 
 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 persons they are the most danger- 
 ous 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 !" 
 
 It should be had in everlasting remembrance, 
 that concerning some it is written, because they re- 
 ceive not the love of the truth, " for this cause God 
 shall send them strong delusion, that they should be» 
 lieve a lie : that they all might be damned who be- 
 lieved not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteous* 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A p *€e 
 
 ACTORS of a tragical farce, 24 
 
 Address, New- Year's, of a prisoner, 231 
 
 Agony of a dying widow, 21 
 
 Almshouse, preacher's introduction to, 14. 52 
 
 general observations on the, 85, 86. 131 
 
 extract of a letter on the, 146 
 
 foundation of the new, 146 
 
 Atmosphere of the Almshouse odious, 83. 85 
 
 Assistance by Mrs. J. B. R. and Mrs. P. W. 200 
 Aslyum for lunatics, 23 
 
 for outcast females, 75 
 
 A T , a Scotch girl, 183, 184, 185. 203 
 
 A W , a stolen country girl, 91. 94. 104. 
 
 103. 120. 149 
 Avarice, the curse of, 239 
 
 B 
 
 B B Mrs. account of, 22. 27. 30 
 
 B e, Mr. account of, 112, 113 
 
 B Mrs. clothes procured by, 193 
 
 Bedrid hearers of the gospel, 30. 55. 99 
 
 Beggars, street, not objects of charity, 34 
 
 Benevole?ice distinguished from sympathy, 33, 34 
 Bible, anecdote concerning the, 101 
 
 Bibles distributed to the poor, 64 
 
 * 25 
 
294 
 
 Blind persons descending the stairs, 31 
 
 Blind Mary L^^'s desire to see, 38 
 
 Blind woman offended with Mr. B. 52 
 
 Boy, a defenceless, 187.198 
 
 Boys in the Almshouse, 53. 89. 90 
 
 Bridewell, two convicts visited in, 25. 36, 37. 45 
 
 too narrow for its inhahitants, 75 
 
 another convict visited in, 233 
 
 C 
 CATHOLIC, Roman, visited, 128, 129, 130 
 
 Caroline, 139. 154. 161. 167. 171. 176. 187. 195. 
 
 214. 216, 217. 221, 222 
 Child deserted at the gate, 76 
 
 C O account of, 1 14. 127 
 
 Clinton, De Witt, passing sentence, 162 
 
 Commencement of preaching in the Hospital, 13 
 Communion of saints of different denominations, 39 
 Conclusion, 270 
 
 Consumption, a sailor sick with the, 207 
 
 Consolation of an old procuress, 94 
 
 Contentions among the poor, for the word, 30 
 
 Convictions renewed in an aged woman, 1 6 
 
 Crabbe's account of Richard Monday, 90 
 
 Crocker, M Henry, gratitude to, 91 
 
 Curse of avarice, 239 
 
 D 
 Daughters of faithful Sarah, 80 
 
 Death of an Episcopalian, 20. 171. 186 
 
 of a Spaniard, 164 
 
 a daily visitor at the H. and A. 74. 21 1 
 
 Deserted Irish mother, 95, 96. 201 
 
 - girl and babe, 204 
 
295 
 
 £)##%, death of a drunkard, 22 
 
 Discarded female of family, 26 
 
 the death of a, 28 
 
 Despondency, the common cause of, 113 
 
 Door-keeper of a Church, 185 
 
 Dorcas Society, account of, 137 
 
 Drunkard, horrible death of a, 22. 111. 113 
 
 Drunkenness produces insanity, 249 
 
 E 
 
 E C , Mrs. account of, 151 
 
 E C r, Mrs. 179 
 
 Emotions of visitors at the Almshouse, 30 
 
 rendered obtuse by repetition, 30 
 
 English Blood, who forsook his wife, 133. 139. 153 
 Exchange without profit, 103 
 
 Execution of convicts, 46 
 
 F 
 FAMILIES, severally visited, 29. 50. 77. 80. 188. 
 
 233 
 Falsehood distinguished from a lie, 44 
 
 Feeling without religion, 33 
 
 Filial fear and slavish dread, 36 
 
 Fire, great, on the 19th of May, 97. 103 
 
 Fluctuation of the audience in the H. and A. 56 
 Friday, an idiot deserted, 76 
 
 Frost, death occasioned by, 21 
 
 G 
 GEORGE, Blind, account of, 27. 52. 63. 67. 104. 
 
 130 
 
 presented with a book, 38 
 
 furnished with a suitable dress, 103 
 
 — — — sick, and restored to health, 209 
 
•296 
 
 George, Mr. Joseph, his exertion?, 219 
 
 Gospel, when another is advocated, 40 
 
 . , gratitude of the poor for the, 14. 63. 133 
 
 G*****, Mrs. an aged Dorcas, 70 
 
 H 
 HEARERS brought into the preacher's pre- 
 sence, 95 
 Hospital neat and well managed, 90 
 Hume's mother, anecdote of, 41 
 Hymn Books distributed, 37. 46. 58. 63 
 
 for the Dorcas society, 137 
 
 — ~ sung in the Magdalen Hospital, 1 67 
 Hymns committed to memory, 80. 97. 110. 123 
 
 I 
 
 INCONTINENCE the cause of madness, 256 
 
 Inducement to immigrate to America, 96 
 
 Infants, their death considered, 201 
 
 Iiifidels, anecdotes of, 40, 41, 42. 172. 174. 184. 
 
 259. 262 
 
 Insane persons rarely capable of instruction, 83 
 
 Insanity, several causes of, 235 
 
 of an Irish Farmer, 217 
 
 by the loss of twenty dollars, 236 
 
 occasioned by vicious company, 238 
 
 . the curse of avarice, 239 
 
 caused by disappointment, 241 
 
 ■ caused by drunkenness, 249 
 
 — produced by novels, 250 
 
 by reading by a fire, 252 
 
 ■ by slavery, 253 
 
 ■ by incontinence, 256 
 
 by infidelity, 259. 262 
 
29 7 
 
 Intemperance, death by, 
 Irish Church, lectures in, 
 Irishmen, two amiable, 
 Irish mother very young, 
 
 wife deserted to poverty, 
 
 J 
 JARVIS, Captain, 
 J B a man in despair, 
 
 J - j. J a man of colour, 
 
 Journey to find Caroline's mother, 
 
 J R an old sailor, 124. 127 
 
 Justification, some account of, 
 Judgment, the general, 
 
 L 
 LETTER to Nicholas Roome, Esq, 
 
 m> Rev. John Stanford, 
 
 — Mrs. M S 11, 
 
 Caroline, 
 
 — from P — G — a dying sailor 
 
 22 
 
 in 
 
 105, 
 
 , 130 
 
 
 157 
 
 
 204 
 
 95, 
 
 , 201 
 
 128, 129. 
 
 , 130 
 
 1£7. 109. 
 
 113. 
 
 117. 
 
 124 
 
 
 117 
 
 
 220 
 
 . 143. 164, 
 
 ,165 
 
 29. 
 
 11» 
 
 
 142 
 
 
 230 
 
 
 231 
 
 177. 
 
 203 
 
 195. 
 
 213 
 
 ; sailor, 
 
 226 
 
 Lecture room of the Churchman, 100. 104, 105 
 
 L se, old Mr. account of, 119. 126 
 
 L#*##, Miss, account of, 23, 24. 30. 54. 82 
 
 Lock hospital for females, 75 
 
 M 
 MAGDALEN Hospital of London, 75. 168 
 
 the name of, abused, 93 
 
 Asylum desired, 75.91.168 
 
 Society of New-York founded, 221 
 
 M B account of, 108. 120. 149. 182. 186 
 
 Mc. Donald, a prisoner, 1 90 
 
 - "■ ■'""■ ' ■ copy of his poetry, 1 9 1 . 1 93; 
 
298 
 
 Maniac's Creed, ^59 
 
 M D , account of, 57. 59. 65. 74. 149 
 
 180. 186 
 Memory of an aged woman, 35. 38 
 
 Men, several aged, frl 
 
 M 's, Dr. sermon and opinion, 67 
 
 M Mrs. a German woman, 110 
 
 M S Mrs, an Episcopalian, 160. 172 
 
 168. 198. 
 Mutual obligation and provocation, 50, 51 
 
 N 
 NEAL, Richard, man of colour, 165. 205 
 
 Novels dangerous to weak mi, ids, 250 
 
 Number of services performed, 91. 167. 228 
 
 Nurses, several pious and attentive, 57- 211 
 
 O 
 OBSERVATIONS on Charity Schools, 208 
 
 . — on the Almshouse, 85. 131 
 
 Occum, Samson, anecdote of, 41 
 
 O-^ P 's address, 231 
 
 Osborne, Dr. J. C's. kindness, 219 
 
 P 
 PAUPER, a crazy one, dying, 205 
 
 Perseverance in seeking for a book, 55. 57, 
 
 P , twice fallen into, 104. 216 
 
 P G account of, 223. 226, 227, 228 
 
 Premonitions of death, 264 
 
 Prices of job-work, 33 
 
 Prostitutes, multitudes of, 75 
 
 Progression to an awful pitch in sin, 209 
 
 P ■ tj Dr. donation, conversation, &c. 97. 210 
 
 211, 212 
 
291 
 
 Punishment of infidelity, 262 
 
 P — ■ W Mrs. assistance by, 200 
 
 R 
 
 READING, imprudent, the effect of, 250. 252 
 
 R Dr. exchange with, 151 
 
 Rebecca, some account of, 187. 198, 199. 211 
 
 Rheumatism, widow afflicted with, 105 
 
 Reluctance at entering the Almshouse, 1 9 
 
 Repentance, evangelical, defined, 141 
 
 S 
 
 SAILOR, insane, who cut his throat, 222. 224 
 
 , from Salem, Massachusetts, 225 
 
 Sally, Blind, account of, 51 
 Scotch girl seduced, 182. 185. 203 
 
 Scotchman, conversation with a, 88 
 
 Servant of Mr. P R > 170. 1 75 
 
 Sermon on maniacs, 273 
 
 Shoemaker, the benevolence of a poor, 173 
 
 Slavery, the cause of madness, 253 
 
 Smoaking offensive to a young man, 15 
 
 Sofa, a blind German woman, 84. 203 
 Soldier, sick, female friends of a, 70, 71. 78. 121. 
 
 203 
 
 Speechless man, death of, 1 8 
 
 woman, ■ , 156 
 
 Stanford, Rev. John, lines to, 229 
 
 Substitution explained, 117 
 
 Sympathy, the power of, 32 
 
 T 
 
 T APPEN, Inderwick and Anderson, 1 97 
 
 Tiger, a man injured by a, 54 
 
 T b J— — s, a miner, 152 
 
800 
 
 Tithing man of great service, &c. 84 
 
 T. S. C an old traveller, 145. 153. 171 
 
 T T the plundered brewer, 99 
 
 U 
 UTILITY of parochial visits, 136 
 
 V 
 
 VACATION in the preacher's services, 
 
 131 
 
 Vicious cempany dangerous, 
 
 
 238 
 
 Visit, a very pretty one from, 
 
 
 29 
 
 Visits to the respective wards, 106, 
 
 107. 
 
 167. 22S 
 
 W 
 
 
 
 WEAK preachers unfit for prisons, 
 
 
 233 
 
 Welsh woman, account of, 
 
 
 17. 58 
 
 Widow, pious, on crutches, 
 
 
 21 
 
 — , visited by the Rev. Mr. — — 
 
 
 29. 50 
 
 -, industrious with 1 children, 33 
 
 -, having a white swelling, 88 
 
 -, Webb, aged 103 years, 35. 37. 81 
 
 ., visited at the request of Mrs. P. R. 188 
 
 - Mrs. B— n, 233 
 
 Widow's Society, a member of, 28. 50, 51 
 
 _ •* bounty rewarded, 72, 73 
 
 "Wm. H on account of. 127, 129^ 
 
 Wm. Mc. D blind, 150 
 
 Woman of colour mangled, 45. 54. 61 
 
 W R a blind boy, t59. 62. 64. 68