22nd.—About two hours past the last midnight, the men of the same watch,

whose indecent and unlawful doings have been so often already noticed,

being on deck in turn, prepared to avail themselves of an advantage

arising from an injury done to the bars of the prison, at the

fore-hatchway, which had been crushed and displaced by the striking of a

small cask, as it was hoisting from the hold. This damage, which

occurred yesterday, could not then be effectually repaired, and _this

almost paper edifice_ had no protection except the wretched locks upon

the hatchway. Of this I was aware, and remained on the alert in case of

any attack.

At the hour above mentioned I heard the hatchway locks at the grating

distinctly opened and shut, no doubt by means of duplicate keys, and

afterwards a rustling noise was heard as if the fellows were descending.

This noise suddenly ceased,—no attempt further was made, nor any more

annoyance given during the rest of the night. During this affair the

utmost tranquillity prevailed throughout the prison, not one of the

women having stirred; nor does it appear that any of them were aware of

the circumstance.

24th.—At the usual hour I read a sermon in the prison, and have much

cause to bestow commendation on the propriety generally evinced by the

women. In my remarks I adverted to their behaviour latterly, bestowing

merited praise on those who continued to observe the rules of moral and

religious instruction which they had heard so frequently and with such

evident benefit, since the beginning of the voyage, and who had

uniformly testified their love for good conduct by never swerving from

their duty. To those who had unfortunately relapsed, but whose

subsequent contrition had cancelled their offence, I held forth the

language of commiseration and forgiveness, exhorting them never to

confide again in themselves alone to guard against sin, but with fervent

and frequent prayer to entreat the aid of divine grace, when their

reformation could not fail to be perfect, and their peace of mind

ensured.

The sailors in appearance show less hostility than heretofore, and no

further annoyance is offered during the night; the women also seem in no

instance whatever to hold communication with them, even in passing

conversation.

27th.—Matters continue progressively interesting, as the period

approaches when the final separation is to take place between those

intended for the colony at Van Diemen’s Land, and those proceeding

afterwards to Sydney. A thoughtfulness marks every turn and action,

mingled with sadness in some, and resignation in others; whilst many

openly regret the termination of the voyage, as putting an end to

comforts of mind and condition which they had not before enjoyed, and

had not to expect in the place to which they were going. Still, however

rarely, a trace of wild temper breaks in spite of all sincerity of

intention to the contrary. This unhappy tendency of early habit was

shown this morning by one of the younger prisoners, (Ann Farrell,) who

for some very trifling cause quarrelled with and beat one of her

companions. In the fervour of the confusion my presence put an end to

animosity, which was instantly succeeded by tears of sorrow.

A sermon on the immortality of the soul was this day read in the prison

by the Reverend Mr. Reddall. After its conclusion, I drew their

attention forcibly to the subject, by reminding them of a similar

discourse having been addressed to many of them in Newgate by Mrs. FRY.

This allusion to their beloved benefactress called forth a flood of

tears, with the strongest expression of feelings I ever witnessed among

them, the whole exhibiting a scene highly complimentary to the revered

object of their affectionate remembrance, and creditable to the poor

women themselves: the effusion was spontaneous, full, and general; for

most of them had known the lady’s goodness and humane exertions from

their own experience, and the others mingled sympathetic tears with

theirs. One moment such as this, even in the minds of those proud ones

whose disdain for their former offences would spurn the unhappy

wretches, would restore them surely to pity and protection. The

haughtiest contemner of the sinner must, in this genuine display of

gratitude and sorrow blended together, have instantly forgotten the

errors of the past, and have felt confidence in the renovated purity

bespeaking such humble declarations of contrition and fervent affection

towards that bright and happy benevolence, which with sweet persuasion

first led them back from the ways of sin and death, and taught them to

cherish a hope of happy immortality.

28th.—In a former part of this volume I stated my firm belief, that even

convicts are susceptible of gratitude; and in this opinion am I further

confirmed by the feelings of the unfortunate creatures committed to my

care, as expressed in the following letter addressed to me, and

presented by the Reverend Mr. Reddall. The zealous and unwearied

benevolence of this gentleman induced him often to visit them in the

prison, for the humane purpose of giving useful counsel to those who

might be disposed to receive it: on one of those occasions they

solicited him to write this letter, expressive of their sense of

obligation; they afterwards put their names to it, to be delivered to me

before any of them left the ship.

“Morley, at Sea, Aug. 28, 1820.

“HONOURED SIR,

“As the voyage, through Divine Providence, is now near its close,

and feeling as we do, indeed as we ought, the full force of your

good-will towards us, it would ill accord with the impressions on

our minds, fixed there by your faithful performance of every good

office for the promotion of our comfort and our good, did we not

assure you of our gratitude, and offer you our thanks.

“These latter, it is true, are but of little worth; but they are

the offerings of sincerity, and we know you will not despise them:

the former will, we trust, be kept fresh within us to the latest

days of our pilgrimage below, by thinking on your many virtues,

and by the recollection of your truly benevolent and unceasing

attention to our various wants and best interests during the

passage. If, Sir, we consider the numerous cases which required

your professional skill and attendance among us, we are reminded

of your promptitude and attention, whether required by day or by

night.—If we reflect on your zeal for our moral and religious

improvement, we feel how much we owe, and how little we can ever

repay you.—If we place you before us as our protector, your

unshaken firmness in the face of danger,—your rectitude of

conduct, which the virtuous alone possess,—and the great

deprivations of rest and comfort we are grieved to say you are

enduring on our account, entitle you to every good feeling, in

return, of which our hearts are capable.

“Honoured as we have thus been by you, and favoured by your

sympathizing distribution of those comforts tenderly and humanely

provided for us by the Government of our beloved country, the

grief of mind our unhappy cases must naturally have excited within

us has been greatly assuaged; and we trust that, through the grace

of God, your good advice and able instruction in moral virtues and

religious truths will not be lost upon us, but that we shall

benefit by your counsel, when you will be in happier climes: and,

Sir, if through your instrumentality we shall again become worthy

members of society, wherever we may be placed, we shall have

continual cause to bless you, and to offer up our prayers for that

Government which has placed us under your valuable protection.

“Receive then, most respected Sir, our united best wishes for your

every good, temporal and eternal; and permit us to be, with a

grateful sense of our obligation,

“Your faithful and dutiful servants.”

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

“To Thomas Reid, Esq. Surgeon, &c.

From the female Convicts

on board the ship Morley.”

29th.—In the afternoon of yesterday Van Diemen’s Land came in sight; but

the Captain deeming it safest kept the ship laid to, and this morning

again making sail, we arrived with a favourable wind in the Derwent, and

anchored before HOBART-TOWN about half-past three in the afternoon, when

the Naval Officer came on board. Soon after I waited on His Honour the

Lieutenant Governor with dispatches from the Secretary of State for the

Colonial Department, and was informed that a considerable number of the

convicts would be received at this destination. The conduct of the women

since the last date has been highly meritorious, with the exception of a

trifling irregularity charged upon an elderly prisoner, which not having

been sufficiently substantiated deserved no further notice.

30th.—Captain Brown having had occasion to go on shore this morning on

the ship’s concerns, and it being necessary for me to wait upon the

Lieutenant Governor, it appeared best to delay until the Captain’s

return. In the afternoon I went ashore to see the Lieutenant Governor,

who signified his intention of coming on board the Morley to-morrow.

There having been a very heavy fall of snow, which continued the greater

part of the day with sleet and squalls, the women were obliged to remain

below. Nothing in their conduct has occurred to lessen my good opinion

of them. They appear all in excellent disposition, and quite resigned to

their situation. The anxiety of many of them is extreme to ascertain who

are to be left at Hobart-Town; but though I am aware, from conversation

with the Lieutenant Governor, that fifty at least will be required for

this colony, still it seems more prudent to withhold that information,

as they might otherwise feel themselves released from accustomed

restraint, and, if so disposed, might be tempted to give loose to some

irregularities.

However favourable the present state of circumstances be, I shall

continue my nightly watching, until the termination of the affair is

more satisfactorily decided by the removal of such women as are used to

attract the attention of the sailors. The state of the prison is

singularly tranquil, and the conduct of the sailors is remarkably quiet

and reserved.

31st.—Having watched over the conduct of the prisoners throughout the

day, I was detained by various concerns in the prison until half-past

eight last evening, when I retired to my cabin to prepare the necessary

papers for the women who were to go on shore. This did not occupy me

more than one hour and a quarter; and on returning to keep watch for the

night, I found that the sailors had, in my absence, taken four females

out of the prison. Having made immediate search, assisted by Captain

Brown and the chief mate, I discovered three of them in the hammocks of

three of the sailors; the fourth, who was elsewhere concealed with a

sailor, came from her hiding-place;—the four were of course put

immediately in proper restraint.

At an early hour this morning I waited on the Lieutenant Governor, and

laid the whole affair before him, when he entered warmly into the merits

of the case, and promised his full support. This circumstance hastened

His Honour’s determination to come on board, as he had previously

intended. About 11 A. M. the Lieutenant Governor came and inspected the

condition of the prisoners, expressing in strong terms his approbation

of their appearance, and also the satisfaction he felt, and the

conviction he entertained of their moral improvement. Agreeably to

promise, I interested myself in their behalf, and obtained a comfortable

settlement for many of the most deserving, and enabled the others

destined for this dependency to indulge in the most pleasing

expectations as to the same effect.

The Lieutenant Governor having returned, a constable came on board by

order of His Honour, and took into custody the four sailors with whom

the women had been found, also a fifth who was principally concerned in

taking them out of the prison: he was about taking them away, when the

remaining crew, in the most violent and mutinous manner, broke off their

work; three of them forced the constable to take them also as prisoners

along with the other five; to which the constable felt himself compelled

to submit. The rest refused to return to their duty, and to a man went

below. The Police Magistrate, Mr. Humphrey, who was not in town when I

waited on the Lieutenant Governor in the morning, now came off to the

ship, followed by a serjeant with a file of soldiers. On his coming

aboard, the sailors were commanded by Captain Brown, by the advice of

the Magistrate, to go to their duty; but they obstinately refused. The

Magistrate in the most mild and liberal manner advised them to reflect

on their imprudence, and pointed out to them the serious consequences

they incurred by such behaviour. Still they persisted, directing their

whole violence of abuse against me for having, as they said, threatened

to shoot any of them who should come in my way,—with other strange and

unfounded clamours of the same kind. To the remonstrances of the

Magistrate they appeared to pay but little attention, although the

soldiers were drawn up under arms beside them. Upon their alluding to

me, I openly challenged them then or at any other time to advance any

charge they might have against me, as I was perfectly amenable to the

laws, if my conduct were not correct; but, at the same time, I renewed

my warning to them in the most solemn manner, not to be found

trespassing on the precincts of my duty, else, if they did not keep in

recollection this salutary caution, they would with positive certainty

have to repent of their folly. After much silly and vulgar rodomontade,

they suddenly changed their tone, and one by one, in the most ungracious

manner, laid aside their stubbornness and returned to their work.

In the mean time the three sailors who had forced themselves on the

constable, and were conducted to prison, having been humanely

reprimanded by the Lieutenant Governor and sent back, came again on

board and went to work like the rest: the soldiers, however, were

ordered to remain on guard upon deck during the night. The sullen manner

in which the sailors returned to their duty convinced me that they

harboured evil designs, and from information received, I had been

previously assured that they had formed an intention of offering to me

serious personal injury; I have therefore determined to keep watch in

the prison as before, and in the most effective manner to repel their

aggressions.

Nothing can be more plainly demonstrative of the deplorable state of

insubordination existing among sailors in the merchant service, than the

occurrences of this day have proved; for, over such selfish and

ungrateful beings the master can exercise no authority whatever of a

coercive nature, whilst they, acting on an arbitrary code of regulations

formed among themselves, can insult him with impunity, the law allowing

him no redress. In this state of things the voyage must depend for its

comforts, security, and in some measure for its success, on their

capricious combinations.

_September_ 1st.—Last night passed away without further disturbance on

the part of the sailors, and the guard was this morning recalled. Having

to wait on the Lieutenant Governor, by appointment, in the forenoon, I

was obliged to anticipate my usual hour, and shortly after 9 A. M.

assembled the women in the prison, accompanied by the Reverend Mr.

Reddall and Captain Brown, to read to them the following farewell

address prepared for the occasion.

On many former occasions of this kind their behaviour demanded from me

the strongest approbation; but I must confess that on the present the

feeling evolved in the course of this duty was such as would be

creditable to any Christian assembly whatever. Their expressions of

grief and contrition for the errors which had placed them in their

present unhappy situation were poignant in the extreme, and would indeed

be difficult of description. The keen sense of virtue acquired by

fruitful repentance made them look down upon themselves as deeply

degraded by vice, and cast an additional gloom and disgrace over their

punishment. That hour I found indeed full reward for all the pains I had

taken in their improvement, because it showed me that, however frail and

erring some of them might still prove, the far greater number were

sensibly, and I would hope permanently, reformed.

FAREWELL ADMONITION.

Having now arrived at that destination to which many of us have for some

time looked forward with anxious solicitude and uncertainty, I wish to

avail myself of the present opportunity to offer a few reflections which

have at different times occurred to me, respecting your future conduct

and welfare in life. In putting together my thoughts upon this subject,

it has been my aim to frame an advice for the moral guidance of you all,

but more particularly of those whose tender years and inexperience may

unfit them for performing a part on the great theatre of life, to which

they will very soon be introduced. To use this world so as not to abuse

it, is decidedly the most important lesson that either religion or

philosophy inculcates; but it must not be denied, at the same time, that

it is one of considerable difficulty.

It is not my intention to entertain you with a dissertation on

speculative philosophy, or a discussion of theological arguments; I

shall simply, for the sake of perspicuity, endeavour to observe a

certain order in the arrangement of my subject; but my sole object is to

solace your minds by explaining, as well as I can, the pleasing

advantages which every one of you may receive from the doctrines of the

Christian religion.

First, then, let me request your attention to the behaviour of one of

your own sex, in whose situation, as a sinner, many of you, perhaps,

will perceive a strong resemblance to your own. The transaction is

recorded in the Gospel according to St. Luke, 7th chapter 37th and

following verses, in these words: “And, behold, a woman in the city,

which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the

Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at his

feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did

wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed

them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw

it, he spake within himself, saying, This man, if he were a prophet,

would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him:

for she is a sinner. And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I have

somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. There was a

certain creditor which had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence,

and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly

forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most?

Simon answered and said, I suppose that he to whom he forgave most. And

he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged. And he turned to the woman,

and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house,

thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with

tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no

kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my

feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman hath

anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore, I say unto thee, her sins,

which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is

forgiven, the same loveth little. And he said unto her, Thy sins are

forgiven. And they that sat at meat with him began to say within

themselves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And he said to the

woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.”

This interesting little narrative presents to us one of the most

affecting pictures to be met with any where in Scripture. The life of

this woman had been stained by the commission of crimes of the deepest

dye in the sight of Heaven. Her heart was now filled with bitter

anguish, and the keenest remorse, which left no room for hope in her

bosom. She had long endured the wretchedness of a sinful life; the scorn

of the world had often lacerated the finest feelings of her heart; her

sense of shame was intense, and with the most profound humility she fell

at the feet of her Redeemer, but dared not to supplicate or indulge a

hope of mercy: she never ceased to wash the feet of Jesus with her

tears, and to dry them with the hairs of her head; thus showing her

repentance to be sincere: and she found mercy. Jesus did not reject her;

but, with the tenderness of an affectionate father, pronounced those

encouraging words, “Daughter, thy sins are forgiven thee.” Can any of

you imagine the inexpressible joy, the heavenly rapture, that thrilled

upon the heart and illuminated the hitherto darkened soul of this

deluded sinner, when the eternal Son of God signified her pardon? It is

quite certain, that, however greatly we may magnify the idea of her

happiness, we shall fall short, infinitely short, of the delightful

reality; for we are assured by divine authority[21], that “Eye hath not

seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the

things which God hath prepared for them that love him.”

We have every reason to believe that the shame, confusion, and sorrow,

with which this unhappy woman was overpowered, were entirely removed at

the very instant of pronouncing her forgiveness: for these

soul-harrowing feelings belong to guilt; they are the price which must

be paid for sinful pleasures; they are, in short, the only certain fruit

that sin produces. These very feelings were intended by our Maker to

stop us in the career of vice; from which having fairly turned, they

disappear, and give way to that real, inward satisfaction which is the

happy effect of sincere virtue.

I think we shall do well to pause here a moment, and inquire whether

there were any other means by which this woman could have been released

from the bondage of sin, and enabled to break the galling fetters in

which she had long been bound in the slavery of Satan? To this it may be

confidently answered, Undoubtedly not. There is no possibility of our

heavenly Father being reconciled to us while we continue in the practice

of sin. It does not even follow as a natural or necessary consequence,

that our own mere repentance gives us any claim to demand forgiveness;

it is alone to the wonderful goodness of God we are indebted for that

mercy, who has been graciously pleased to promise pardon to the true

penitent, on account of the atonement which Christ made for the sins of

us all by his own sufferings.

Although in my former addresses, the subject of repentance was treated

more at length, and made, I hope, clear to the understanding of you all,

yet I am not aware that it is in my power to render you a more important

service, than again to take here a cursory view of its most important

advantages.

I enter on the consideration of this subject with the greater pleasure,

because I am satisfied that my former arguments were not thrown away,

and that with many of you the great work of repentance is already begun.

If the conviction exist in your minds, that sin is odious, and

destructive to the soul, no matter how alluring soever and deceitful its

appearance may be, what can prevent you from extending your abhorrence

of it a step further, which will bring you to conversion? To render

penitence complete and effectual unto salvation, we must first discover

the nature and enormity of our offences, in a perfect and lowly

consciousness of our own sinfulness. A confused belief that we are not

what our Maker intended we should be, will never produce that change in

our hearts which is necessary to real repentance: we must have a

particular and distinct knowledge of all our vices, and a thorough

conviction of our iniquities. It is not enough that, with frigid soul

and unmoved heart, we acknowledge in general terms that we are

excessively wicked and corrupt,—that there is no good in us, and then to

indulge in transient sorrow for a moment. This mode of action does not

certainly deserve the name of repentance, and in the end, I greatly fear

it will prove worse than useless; for it never fails to harden the

heart, and to conceal from the sinner the true state of his soul.—_In

the Christian religion there is no composition, no arrangement, no

trifling, no fluctuation, no dalliance with duties, no deference to

darling vices: if the eye offend us, we must pluck it out; if the hand

is sinful, we must cut it off. Better to merit Heaven by every

suffering, than eternal punishment by every gratification._

It is no very uncommon thing to see persons deeply affected with sorrow

and contrition for past misconduct, and sincerely resolve to lead a new

life for the future, and yet their resolution fall to nothing in a very

short time. This, I am apt to believe, will always happen whenever the

love of the world predominates over the more sublime desire of

inheriting eternal life. To make repentance sincere and efficacious, we

must have constant recourse to self-examination, and a candid, impartial

inquiry into the state of our own hearts. For this purpose, you must

seek frequent opportunities of retiring from the bustle of the world,

and accustom yourselves to meditate in secret. Should your poverty or

occupation prevent you from setting apart a particular hour in the day

or the week, you can subtract a few minutes from the ordinary time

allowed for sleep, “to commune with your own heart, upon your bed[22].”

Reflect seriously, that another day or week of your life is gone; then

examine how much you have gained by that time. “Have you conquered any

bad passion to which you were addicted? Are you more pure and holy in

your own eyes? Look back on your past life; trace it from youth, and put

to yourselves the question, What have been its happiest moments? Were

they those of quiet and innocence, or those of riot and intrigue? Has

success in almost any instance realized your expectation? Where you

reckoned upon happiness in the highest degree, have you not many times

been disappointed and found least? Wherever sin or guilty pleasure

formed a part of your projected schemes, did they not leave some unhappy

impression on your minds that remained when the gratification was

forgotten? Are you more the children of grace, than you were before you

shed a tear for your transgressions? In a word, do you think you have

made any progress in the journey of salvation?” These are questions of

too much importance to the eternal welfare of every one of you to be

regarded with indifference, or carelessly overlooked, because answers to

them may excite confusion, or cover your cheeks with the blushes of

guilty shame.

There is no dungeon cell so miserable, or no retreat so unsheltered, as

not to afford some corner where prayer and devotion, the exercise of

every duty of religion, may be practised. The sincere penitent will

often be found to select the most humble and retired apartment as the

hallowed spot for devoutly worshiping his Maker; and his earnest

supplications for mercy and forgiveness, will be as acceptable as if

they had issued from the most magnificent palace. Even in the darkest

solitude of prison-gloom the inspiration of religion can be felt, and

its operation on the heart acknowledged by the silent tear of

contrition, and the melting of the soul in grateful adoration of its

beneficent Creator.

That the assistance of the divine spirit is necessary to complete the

work of repentance, and support our virtue, must not be forgotten.

Without God we are utterly incapable of performing any good act. But

this ought by no means to discourage us from undertaking and persevering

in the glorious struggle; for we are assured that we shall not be left

alone, but have the divine spirit always near and ready to assist us. If

our own effort to repent and reform be sincere, we have no reason

whatever to doubt that God will graciously aid our endeavours. “True

repentance produces an entire change of heart and life; of views,

desires and actions; a complete renunciation of all vicious pursuits and

gratifications, with a firm resolution to keep the commandments of the

living God; any degree of it that falls short of this, is not that

repentance to which God has annexed the promise of pardon.”

Were my limits less contracted, I should endeavour to give some little

description of the condition of the hardened sinner, and contrast his

gloomy expectations and distracting fears of eternal punishment with the

glorious hope of salvation, that heavenly sunshine which continually

illumines and cheers the soul of the blessed penitent. Even as it is, a

brief sketch of some of the most prominent features by which these two

characters are distinguished may be allowed.

Here, then, I would beg leave to ask whether any of you really believe

that the life of a wicked person can, under any circumstances, be truly

happy? To this very important question past experience enables you all

to return a direct answer: let me solemnly advise you, my friends, to

put it seriously to your own hearts. Methinks, in the painful conflict

that agitates and confuses your minds, I hear the still small voice of

conscience answering for you, and whispering _No_. Do not, I beseech

you, attempt to stifle these virtuous struggles of conscience to rouse

the spirit within you from the fatal slumber of sin; but regard them as

the warning voice of your merciful Creator and Redeemer.

But to return from this little digression: Let us suppose a bad man

possessed of great affluence, and enjoying good health; let him mix with

the giddy multitude, and drink as deeply as he pleases from the poisoned

streams of sinful gratification, yet could we hear the true language of

his heart, we should know from his own confession that he was far from

being happy; that in the words of the wise king of Israel, “even in

laughter the heart is sorrowful, and the end of that mirth is

heaviness[23].” His mind is perpetually haunted with misgivings and

slavish terrors, because guilt is always attended with suspicious alarm.

He is afraid of his companions in crime, lest they betray him; and of

those on whom he commits depredations lest they detect and punish him on

the spot; and, what is still more cruel, he is afraid of himself. His

conscience, when he does reflect, makes him tremble at the thought of

divine vengeance directed against him for his sins, like the guilty king

Belshazzar, who saw his dreadful doom traced by a hand upon the wall

whilst he was impiously rioting in the midst of worldly pleasures[24].

Such reflections as these, are the certain attendants on a life of sin

whenever the mind is roused into action; and there is no opiate that can

keep the guilty imagination always asleep. There must be periods in the

life of every wicked person, when he or she will be made dreadfully

sensible of their degraded state; when they will be forced to drink to

the dregs the nauseous cup of woe, in which a double portion of

bitterness has been infused by the poisoning influence of sin. It is of

such persons the sacred writer speaks, when he says, “The wicked are

like the troubled sea when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and

dirt. There is no peace, saith my God, for the wicked[25].” To be alone

compelled to brood over this black picture of human misery, would surely

be dreadful punishment in this life; and, O my friends! can any of us

fancy what it will be in that which is to come?

How infinitely more gratifying is the contemplation of the character and

disposition of a truly good man, whose mind has been fortified by

religion against every vicissitude of this uncertain life! His peace is

not at the mercy of the varying circumstances of a world perpetually

changing. He is well acquainted with the nature of true happiness.

Afflictions do not overtake him unprepared; he knew that his Maker

assigned him a particular duty during his pilgrimage on earth, and he is

determined to perform it, whether it be pleasant or disagreeable, for he

is certain that his labour will not be of long duration. He is taught by

divine wisdom to form a true estimate of this world’s gifts, and he

enjoys them with moderation and thankfulness: neither elated by success

nor enervated by sensual indulgence, he meets adversity with the

firmness of a Christian, and the confidence of a son of God.

From the above imperfect outlines, which are rudely and hastily traced,

some idea may be gathered of the comparative condition of the hardened

sinner, and the sorrowing penitent; and it is for yourselves to say

which of them you prefer;—whether you will choose to exist for ever

under the avenging displeasure of your omnipotent Father, surrounded by

devils and infernal spirits, writhing under the most agonizing torture

which you are assured will never end; or inherit a glorious crown of

eternal salvation, and live for everlasting in the refulgent beams of

heavenly favour, in company with the saints and angels, and the souls of

the righteous purified and made perfect.

Is it possible that any of you can hesitate which of these conditions

you would wish to be your own, at the awful hour of death, and the still

more awful day of judgement? The question does not admit of a moment’s

doubt. _Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us

shall dwell with everlasting burnings?_ Let me once more advise you, my

dear friends, to persevere in the godly work you have so happily begun,

that you may at the last day hear the Saviour of the world pronounce

those ecstatic words, Daughter, thy sins are forgiven thee.

The next subject to which I am desirous of directing your attention, is

the manner in which you ought to conduct yourselves towards your

superiors; and the way in which your leisure hours can be most usefully

employed: on both these points my observations must necessarily be

brief. Moral government was ordained by God to maintain good order, and

promote happiness among his creatures upon earth; and the end of society

is mutual convenience and safety. The existence of society can only be

preserved by judicious arrangement of its members, by assigning to each

some necessary employment for the performance of which he may be better

qualified than his neighbour, while he, on the other hand, engages in

some useful service which the former did not understand, or was unable

to perform. In this manner the business of life is executed, by one

working and another instructing and directing.

Mankind has ever been disposed to pay respect to superior knowledge or

wisdom; hence arose the distinction of rank, which it is our duty still

to respect, for without it society would soon degenerate, and present

nothing but confusion, or superiority secured by ferocious wickedness.

Respect to our superiors implies obedience to the lawful commands of

those who are placed over us. This duty is enjoined by the express

direction of our Saviour himself. In the first epistle of Peter, chap.

ii. verse 17, he says, “_Fear God, honour the King_;” and in the next

verse, “_Servants, be subject to your masters, with all fear; not only

to the good and gentle, but also to the froward_.” Seeing then that it

is our duty to submit to the divine will, let us do it without

murmuring, and resolve cheerfully and faithfully to perform our allotted

part. To oppose the decrees of God we know is useless; and although

providence may have given us an humble station in this world, let it be

our consolation that in the next all earthly distinctions will be

destroyed.

With respect to the employment of your time, very little need be said;

indeed all I wish to urge might be comprised in the single gospel

advice, “Be not weary in well doing[26]:” and to this you have all shown

a disposition during the voyage that does you infinite credit, and

affords me inexpressible pleasure. The materials you had to work on were

scanty; yet you managed to be seldom idle. Idleness is the bane of every

social virtue; it corrodes the soul, poisons every innocent joy, and is

the polluted fountain whence the foulest crimes are continually

springing. Were we all to scrutinize our past conduct, there is not one

of us but would be compelled to acknowledge that the hours of idleness

were those in which we first meditated a departure from the peaceful

paths of virtue. Whatever has occurred once, is liable to happen again:

therefore our only security against temptation in future, will be honest

employment. It was commanded by the Apostle Paul, that, “if any would

not work, neither should he be allowed to eat[27].” If we do not

contribute our part to promote the good of society, we cannot reasonably

expect to be allowed a share of its privileges and advantages. Any

occupation that is not absolutely vicious is preferable to idleness. I

shall close my remarks on this head with the testimony of Solomon, who

says, “In all labour there is profit, but the soul of the sluggard

desireth, and hath nothing[28].”

I think a few moments may here be profitably spent in considering the

sabbath, and meditating on the important duties we are called on to

perform on that hallowed day of rest. To every one whom Providence in

its infinite wisdom has placed in situations that require labour, it

must be gratifying to reflect, that one day in seven is, in all

Christian countries, fixed for them to rest from their daily employment,

and in some degree to be on a level with those of more elevated rank and

fortune, by furnishing to both an opportunity to supplicate the throne

of mercy for pardon of their transgressions, and of uniting their voices

in pious adoration of the divine Author of Nature.

Public worship holds out so many inducements and advantages,

particularly to the lower classes of society, that it has always been

matter of great surprise to me that they should ever be absent when they

have it in their power to attend. In the tabernacle of the Lord, the

high and the low, the prince and the pauper, the captive and the free,

meet to perform the same labour, to discharge the same duty, and with

the hope of receiving the same reward. God is no respecter of persons.

That the public worship of the Almighty is an indispensable duty, no one

dares deny who has not the hardihood to deny the Scriptures, and all

divine authority. In 10th chapter 25th verse of the Hebrews we are

expressly commanded “not to forsake the assembling of ourselves

together:” and in Deuteronomy, 31st chapter 12th verse, is said, “Gather

the people together, men, and women, and children, and the stranger that

is within thy gates, that they may hear, and that they may learn, and

fear the Lord your God, and observe to do all the words of this law.”

Some careless and unhappy persons, who, at the risk of eternal misery,

trifle away their lives and spend the Lord’s day in frivolous, indecent,

or sinful amusements, endeavour to patch up some lame excuse, such as,

If they were to go to church they could learn nothing, for they already

know all that would be said; and with respect to their amusements, If

they were not engaged in that way, they should be doing something much

worse. The conscience must be very dull and wretched indeed, that can be

satisfied with such flimsy apologies. God will not pardon crimes merely

because we might have committed still greater ones. Suppose a man were

accused of robbery, and the crime clearly proved, would a judge and jury

be satisfied of his innocence, and acquit him, because he did not also

commit murder? Such arguments are too absurd to require serious

refutation.

God himself has commanded a particular regard to the sabbath, and

enjoined strict attention to public worship, and it is highly criminal

in us to question his authority, or disobey his mandates. We may,

however, be very regular attendants at divine worship, and yet be very

bad Christians. It is not hearing a sermon, or muttering a few words as

prayers, that will obtain for us the blessing of God. It is only the

prayer of the heart truly pious, and the effusion of devout contrition,

that can reach the throne of grace.

The object of religious institutions is to have our souls awakened and

impressed with a just sense of our own unworthiness; to subdue the

influence of bad passions; to have our minds stimulated to acts of

charity, and our virtue strengthened against the temptations of the

world and the flesh. I am firmly persuaded that none of you will ever be

so impious as to make light or turn into ridicule the ordinances of

religion and the attributes of your Creator; you may however meet with

hardened wretches who will endeavour to destroy the last refuge of the

miserable, their hope of salvation, by scoffs and jeers; let me counsel

you against hearkening to such enemies. What can they offer that will

compensate for the eternal destruction of your souls? Show the

profligate scoffers that you defy their sneers,—that you are not such

fools as to be cheated out of happiness by coarse jokes, or profane

ribaldry. Prove to the world, that although you were deceived into

error, in an unguarded hour, still the seeds of virtue are alive in your

hearts, and that your greatest, your first, your last desire is to be

reconciled to your heavenly Father.

All these salutary ends would be greatly promoted by acts of private

devotion at regular and stated periods. I would therefore advise you

never to retire to sleep without humbling yourselves before your Maker

in prayer and thanksgiving for having preserved you through the day, and

the first thing every morning to implore his blessing and protection. I

am indeed more anxious to promote your welfare than I can possibly

express, and the only return I expect for the care I have taken of you

during the voyage is, that you will all continue attentive to religious

duty; in which case you must all be happy.

I regret that time will only allow me to make a few superficial

admonitory remarks on the propensity for drinking intoxicating liquors.

The effects of this evil are so pernicious to society, so destructive of

human happiness, and so entirely subversive of moral order and social

virtue, that I deem it of the first importance to warn you explicitly

against its poisonous and seducing influence. Were human beings desirous

of degrading themselves below the level of the most grovelling animal

that crawls on the earth, it would be impossible for them to adopt a

plan so ready as that of drowning their faculties in stupifying spirits.

Drunkenness may very justly be termed the prolific parent of every vice

and crime that can corrupt the soul, or disgrace the dignity of man; for

in fits of inebriety what horrid deeds and hellish debaucheries have not

been committed?—robbery, murder, incest, treason, and others still more

shocking, by persons who in cooler moments, in a sober state, would have

shuddered at the bare mention of such wicked and abandoned turpitude! It

is not necessary that the bacchanalian votary should carry his

extravagance the length of brutal, deadly drunkenness, to produce all

the mischiefs I wish you to avoid. Long ere it gains this disgusting

pitch, the worst passions of our nature will become inflamed to

madness,—a state more dangerous to virtue than even confirmed

sottishness. In proof of this, it need only be observed that the one is

an incentive to every species of criminality by which the peace of

society is disturbed, while the evils of the other are confined

principally to the debased individual who gives himself up to such

disgraceful practices. Who is there among you that has not experienced,

either in her own person or some of her acquaintances, the ruinous

effects of indulgence in this odious vice? Can one half of you lay your

hands upon your hearts, and say, that indulging in this very propensity

was not the cause of all the errors and misfortunes for which you have

been dragged from the bosoms of your parents, husbands, and families,

and for which you are now forced to seek refuge among strangers, far

from the land that gave you birth?

Drunkenness in a man is so disgraceful that it can neither be defended

nor excused; but in a woman it is always associated with abandonment and

detestation. If I may be allowed to express my own feelings, I declare

to you truly and candidly, that I would as soon see an infernal imp as a

woman deprived of her reason by means of this deluding poison. It is

hardly necessary to adduce proofs that this vice is forbidden by the

command of God. In Ephesians, 5th chapter, 18th verse, St. Paul says,

“Be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess;” and in 1st Corinthians, 6th

chapter, 9th and 10th verses, “Be not deceived: neither fornicators nor

drunkards shall inherit the kingdom of God.”

Those persons who abandon themselves to strong drink suffer, from spasms

of the stomach, a degree of torture that cannot be borne, and to relieve

which they must have recourse to a larger quantity, and this must be

repeated and increased at stated periods, until the frail machine sinks

under the constant stimulus, the infatuated victim having in fact

committed self-murder. Of the innumerable mischievous effects and deadly

consequences which every moment arise from drunkenness, I shall only

mention two, namely, swearing and prostitution. On each of these sins I

intend to offer a few brief observations, without any further reference

to the iniquitous source in which they originate.

Persons who indulge in the vulgar habit of cursing and swearing, cannot,

it is true, be accused of interested or selfish motives; they volunteer

to drudge hard in the service of the devil, without fee or reward;

without the least prospect of a moment’s satisfaction in this life or

pleasure in the next. Could the common-place excuses of pleasure,

profit, or any other temptation, be urged, there might be some shadow to

obscure the reason for an instant: but here a sin is wantonly committed,

which will powerfully assist to seal the condemnation of the wretch

before his Maker, and can only render him despicable in the eyes of all

who witness his impiety.

In the discourses which I have hitherto prepared for your use and

instruction, I have been anxious that none of the opinions I advanced

should rest on my own authority alone, which will account for the

Scripture quotations with which they are every where interspersed. In

obedience to this rule, I need only refer you to the 3rd article of the

Decalogue, to prove the enormity of profaning God’s holy name: “Thou

shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain, for the Lord will

not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.” This sacred

prohibition of the third commandment was recognised by our Saviour in

the sermon he delivered on the mount, wherein he says, “I say unto you,

Swear not at all; neither by heaven; for it is God’s throne: nor by the

earth; for it is his footstool: neither by Jerusalem; for it is the city

of the great king. Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou

canst not make one hair white or black[29].” Is it not shocking to see

creatures formed after the image of God, and endowed with reasoning

faculties, venting their insignificant rage in curses upon those around

them, as well as on themselves;—often consigning their organs to the

devil, and hideously imploring damnation upon their own souls?

Suppose God were pleased always to punish execration by granting the

prayer of the wicked, how many wretches should we see with limbs and

other members rotting off; with eyes melting out of their heads, and

every other part essential to life, withering and consuming at their own

unhallowed request! Could any be astonished if the earth were to open,

and swallow up those depraved beings, who dare thus to provoke the

vengeance of Heaven, and wantonly defy the majesty of God, as it did

formerly upon Kora, Dathan, and Abiram, with all their followers? I

recommend every one of you to read this interesting account; you will

find it, I think, in the 16th chapter of the book of Numbers.

The next and last subject for our consideration is prostitution, which

is more intimately connected with the text than any of those which I

have attempted to discuss in the foregoing observations. Your behaviour

on board has been so excellent, and in this particular so very

exemplary, with scarcely even the shadow of suspicion, that it may seem

cruel and unjust to touch upon it again. I confess to you candidly it

has this appearance to myself; and were it not for the temptations to

which I know many of you will be exposed, and the infamous arts which

brutal sensual men will employ to seduce you from the pure paths of

virtue and honour, into the devious ways of sin and death, I should not

now awaken in your minds those agonizing feelings, which I hope and

believe have long been tranquillized by the soothing influence of

sincere repentance.

Believe me, my friends, I would most willingly spare any remark that can

tend to excite a painful thought in any of your minds, could I in any

other way strengthen your virtuous intentions, and the resolutions you

have formed to resist every approach of vice, how alluring soever the

appearance may be in which it can present itself. I am much more

disposed to reprobate the atrocious artifices which designing men

wickedly employ to ensnare innocent young girls into their hellish

grasp, than to condemn the unsuspecting confidence which is too often

reposed in their most serious promises and solemn oaths, and which has

proved the ruin of many a well inclined and really virtuous woman. In

the ill-advised steps which led to your present situation, and now cover

you with shame and sorrow, have not many of you to accuse some foul

seducer, some partner in your guilt, some false friend who deceived you

with promises of pleasure and wealth, perverting your understanding, and

blinding your judgement with idle dreams of ambition and happiness? And

did not this deceitful monster, after he attained his own vile purpose,

and plunged you into an abyss of misery, desert you? Nay, worse; have

not the very men to whom you sacrificed your honour, been often the

first to turn your enemies and open accusers? I am well assured that

they have done so, and your present confusion corroborates the unhappy

statement.

Such are the enemies by whom you may expect again to be assailed, to be

again betrayed. If you value honour and happiness in this life, if you

love virtue, if ever you expect to meet a just God in judgement, I

conjure you, by every thing sacred, listen not to their artful tales,—be

not entangled in their destructive net, for hell is open to receive

every wretch whom they make captive.

I believe there are very few of you who have not pondered over your

crimes; and your reflections, I doubt not, have given life to feelings

of the deepest sorrow;—your tears have flowed,—tears of unfeigned

penitence will ever be precious in the sight of your Maker;—I hope they

will obtain for you mercy, forgiveness, and grace.

Are any of you acquainted with the indescribable sorrows to which

unfortunate females are exposed? Yes; some, I fear many of you are; and

can any of you think of following a life so accursed, without

shuddering? It is impossible for those who happily are unacquainted with

this worst and lowest species of infamy, to form any adequate idea of

the misery of prostitutes—driven forth by an abominable procuress into

the streets, where they are obliged to endure the pelting of the storm,

and, while they shiver under the inclemency of a frosty atmosphere, are

compelled to affect a smile of happiness which their hearts cannot feel,

and to solicit the unhallowed embrace of a beast whom their souls abhor.

The dismal receptacles to which they retire, after the weary and worse

than slavish hardships of their nocturnal excursions are ended, are not

less forbidding. They are forced by necessity to herd with loathsome

wretches to procure a little morbid warmth, tainted perhaps with noxious

effluvia, on a miserable uncovered pallet, where they lie crowded

together, ghastly with hunger, stupified with poisonous spirits, rotting

with loathsome disease, and nauseous with accumulated filth.

This is not an imaginary picture. Professional avocations have often

made it necessary for me to witness scenes if possible more shocking.

Many a time has my heart bled while contemplating the ravages of disease

on young creatures withered in the spring of life, who once were lovely,

and cheerful, and innocent, and good. I have a better opinion of you

all, than to believe that your minds are so degenerate, that your souls

are so truly base, as to wish to spin out a wretched existence, and die

the most hopeless of all deaths in such polluted charnels. Would any of

you wish a younger sister, or a beloved innocent daughter, brought up in

a school so detestable? I am sure you would not. If there be any one

present with feelings so unnatural, I hope God will give her a new

heart. Are your own souls, then, less precious than those of your

friends? Why should you strive to bring down that damnation on your own

heads, that you could not wish to fall on your worst enemy?

Let me advise you, my friends, to give the foregoing thoughts some

portion of reflection; they merit at least your attention, for they have

been arranged entirely for your use, and put together under

circumstances of considerable difficulty. Look back on your past lives,

from which you may learn an excellent lesson, and then cast a glance on

that portion of time which you may yet be permitted to enjoy; whether it

shall be long or short, God only knows. What part will you then wish

that you had acted? Not that of idleness and profligacy, assuredly.

It has been observed to you, by my good friend Mr. Reddall, that by good

behaviour in the colony you may make reparation for the injury done to

society, and benefit those of your fellow creatures who may have the

misfortune to be similarly situated with yourselves, by securing to them

the blessings which you have so happily enjoyed. If it can be

satisfactorily proved that religious instruction is capable of working

an entire and permanent reform in those ill-fated mortals who have

forfeited the protection of their country’s laws, the attention of

Government, and of the Nation generally, will be directed to the

investigation of means to lessen the hardships they have hitherto been

doomed to suffer; and the demonstration of a fact so desirable would

give infinite delight to those benefactresses who take so much interest

in your welfare. Can your minds be so depraved, as ever to lose the

remembrance of the noble exertions used by these amiable ladies,

particularly Mrs. Fry and Mrs. Pryor, to restore your peace of mind in

this life, and secure your happiness in the next? Can any of you be

insensible to that benevolent zeal which induced Mrs. Fry to visit you

in this ship at times when several of her nearest relations were on

their death-bed? Perhaps at this very moment she is supplicating Heaven

that you may become thoroughly reformed, and, although the morning of

your lives has been clouded by guilt, that joy and gladness may surround

your setting sun. Perhaps also, at this very time, some of you have a

parent, brother, sister, or some dear friend, lamenting your folly, and

in secret silence offering the unavailing tribute of heart-rending and

corroding tears over your sacrificed virtue. Are your souls so hardened

that you will not do your best to dry up their tears? or will you by

vicious practices infuse new bitterness into the cup of misery, and

bring down their grey hairs with sorrow to the grave?

During my stay in the colony I shall have opportunities of hearing how

you behave, of which, as well as of your behaviour during the voyage, I

promise you I will make a faithful report to your friends in England, if

God be pleased to allow me life to return thither. Virtue is now calling

on you to walk in her salutary paths, and I beseech you, my friends, do

not reject her heavenly invitation. Listen to the divine promise in 2nd

Corinthians, 6th chapter, 17th and 18th verses, “Come out from among

them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord; and touch not the unclean

thing; and I will raise you, and will be a Father unto you, and ye shall

be my daughters, saith the Lord Almighty.”

In the foregoing observations it has been my wish to avoid deep or

abstracted argument, and I have urged no doctrine that is not supported

by gospel authority or moral deduction. I thought myself bound, before

we part, to give you such wholesome counsel as the promises of God hold

out to repentant sinners, and my knowledge of the world enables me to

lay before you. From the hour you came under my care, I have considered

it as much my duty to protect your morals as to preserve your health;

and I do not think that any of you are now sorry for the restraints that

I deemed it necessary to impose on your actions. In the 3d chapter of

Ezekiel, 18th and 19th verses, you will find the following solemn

declaration: “When I say unto the wicked, Thou shalt surely die; and

thou givest him not warning, nor speakest to warn the wicked from his

wicked way, to save his life; the same wicked man shall die in his

iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand. Yet if thou warn

the wicked, and he turn not from his wickedness, nor from his wicked

way, he shall die in his iniquity; but thou hast delivered thy soul.”

On every man to whom the charge of many souls is confided, the above

declaration imposes an awful responsibility, which if faithfully

discharged gives him a claim to their gratitude. If any of you think

yourselves benefited by my humble services, you can in no way show your

gratitude so well, nor oblige me so much, as by making the substance of

this discourse the rule of your future lives. Believe me, it will be of

more intrinsic value to you than all this world’s riches.

It only remains for me to speak of the promise I made to you at the

commencement of the voyage, that an impartial account of your conduct,

while under my direction, would be given to the proper authorities under

which you are to be placed.

A few there are who have, in some instances, transgressed against my

directions; but by their unaffected sorrow, and subsequent good

behaviour, I think atonement has been made. I have therefore the

pleasure to say, that not one of you will be sent out of the ship _at

this place_ with an incorrigibly bad character. In making this report,

favourable to you all generally, it is gratifying to myself

particularly, since neither the feelings of my own conscience, nor the

strictest truth, will be violated in the slightest degree. Some of you

will be particularly recommended as meritorious characters: and if,

during my stay in the colony, it may be in my power to be further useful

to you, I desire every one of you to come to me, and make known your

wishes; you will always find me most willing and anxious to contribute

to your welfare to the utmost of my power.

I have trespassed a great deal too long upon your patience, and yet, I

feel a painful reluctance to bid you farewell. In all human probability,

this is the last time I shall have an opportunity of offering you,

collectively, advice. I hope in God you will not stand in need of

it.—That you may set an example worthy to be imitated by those who are

to come after you, is, believe me, the most anxious wish of my heart.

And now, my dear friends, I must bid you farewell. May the Almighty God

bless and defend you from every evil: and, although it is likely that I

shall soon be far removed from you, I beg you to believe that I shall

often think of you, and offer my humble but sincere prayer to Heaven for

your prosperity here, and your happiness hereafter.

* * * * *

After the reading of the address, I waited on the Lieutenant Governor

with a number of the women whom he had selected as servants for his own

family, and at my particular recommendation also for his friends: this

gave me the gratification of seeing thirty-six of them comfortably

provided with situations, and the remainder, making in all the number of

fifty, in a fair way of being soon disposed of to their advantage. On

this as well as on every other occasion I was deeply impressed with the

urbanity of the Lieutenant Governor, and his uncommon attention to the

most minute circumstance connected with the comforts of the prisoners,

reconciling them to their situation, and urging them to honest and

industrious pursuits. In the several interviews I had with His Honour, I

could not but observe that quickness of intelligence, and soundness of

understanding, which contribute so much to the happiness and prosperity

of the infant colony over which he so advantageously presides, and to

whose interests he appears so deeply devoted.

About 2 P. M. Mr. Humphrey came on board and examined Mrs. Josephson, a

free passenger to Sydney, who had heard the denunciation of the sailors

to take away my life; when her deposition was taken accordingly.

2nd.—The last night, like the former, passed in tranquillity, the

sailors having made no further attempt:—this my constant watching in the

prison every night affords me personally the best opportunity of

knowing. The early hours this forenoon were given to necessary

preparations for the removal of the women ashore, agreeably to an

arrangement previously made: in order to prevent the prisoners from

meeting any interruption, or conversing with improper characters, on the

way, they were removed in small parties under proper guard of His

Honour’s confidential officers: by this careful proceeding they were all

safely landed about three in the afternoon.

I had frequently endeavoured to impress on the minds of the prisoners,

how little reliance could be placed in the promises of any man whose

baseness of heart could allow him to seduce a returning penitent from

the path of virtue: to-day I had a plain proof of that cowardly deceit

which generally attends the commission of crime. My deposition

complaining of those men who had stolen the women from the prison and

threatened my life, had already been taken; but it was necessary for me

to appear before the Bench of Magistrates, where the five sailors were

also brought. Those men could not deny having the women in their

company, but asserted, with contemptible baseness, that the women were

common prostitutes, and had come unsolicited to them. Thus would they,

without remorse, consign to infamy and every degree of punishment the

unhappy creatures to whom, I am well assured, they held out at the time

the most extravagant promises, in order to screen themselves from the

consequences that might result.

Throughout the day I had frequent communication from the Lieutenant

Governor, who in the most kind and earnest manner exerted himself

personally in behalf of the unfortunate exiles, arranging their several

assignments. Having thus provided for no less a number than forty-four

in the first instance, and with the most humane and almost paternal

care, the six remaining were placed in a safe lodging, furnished with

comfortable accommodation, until proper places could be procured in

which to employ them. Even poor Sidney Williams had a large share in his

generous solicitude; more out of concern for her unhappy failings, than

her demerit in point of character. His Honour favoured me with a

gratifying testimonial of his sentiments regarding the state of the

convicts in the certificate given of their having been landed; a copy of

which is here inserted, as more fully expressive of the real

circumstances on their departure from the Morley, than the bare recital

of a journal may be calculated to convey.

“VAN DIEMEN’S LAND,

Government House, Hobart Town,

September 2, 1820.

“I do hereby certify, that fifty female convicts have been landed

in this settlement from the ship Morley, the whole being in the

best state of health and order.

“I visited the ship Morley after her arrival, prior to the landing

of any of the prisoners, and saw the whole number, as well those

destined for Port Jackson as for this settlement, and I was

equally surprised and gratified at their healthy appearance and

their becoming and grateful demeanour.

“It appeared to me impossible to carry the branch of service,

which has been intrusted to Mr. Surgeon Superintendent Reid, to

higher perfection: I consider the admirable condition, both moral

and physical, in which these unfortunate females have been brought

out, to reflect the highest credit on the humanity, attention, and

judgement of that officer.”

(Signed) “WM. SORELL,

Lieutenant-Governor, Van Diemen’s Land.”

About 4 P. M. there arrived on board seven female convicts belonging

lately to the _Janus_, who had been landed at Hobart Town from that ship

by a colonial trader, and whom the Lieutenant-Governor ordered to be

conveyed to the factory at Parramatta. The document accompanying those

women was very unfavourable as to character; I therefore addressed to

them a few brief observations relative to their conduct, and placed them

separately in the hospital, with a view to prevent their communicating

with the other prisoners.

3rd.—A young child belonging to one of the remaining women, which had

long been ill with diseased lungs, died since coming into harbour, and

the body was this day interred ashore, the service being performed by

the Reverend Mr. Knopwood. This gentleman’s health requiring indulgence,

the Reverend Mr. Reddall took on himself the duty of the day (Sunday) on

shore, and addressed a numerous congregation of more than five hundred

persons, from one of his own discourses, adapted to the occasion at a

short notice, and directed with a truly powerful effect to the

circumstances of the infant colony. A rapid and luminous review of its

rise and advancement, led to a very handsome and justly merited eulogium

on the local government of this new and prosperous settlement; whilst at

the same time the unfortunate victims of British justice were taught to

feel for their delinquency, and value to the full the blessings they

were permitted to enjoy in this favoured land. Having paid my respects

to the Lieutenant-Governor, I read to the prisoners as usually. The

seven women received yesterday were present, and showed the most

respectful attention to the discourse. If circumstances do not greatly

deceive, these women are likely to be entitled to a share of good

opinion.

Captain Brown, having arranged his ship concerns, weighed anchor this

afternoon, and made sail for Port Jackson, two men having been

previously embarked by the Lieutenant-Governor’s order to work the ship

in place of the others who remain at Hobart Town, until they can be sent

to Sydney by the first conveyance. Circumstances not having tended to

excite greater confidence than before, I proceed to keep my accustomed

watch in the prison.

7th.—The weather during the last day or two has been delightfully fine,

and the tranquillity of my little community has not experienced any

further disturbance. At noon this day I proceeded to the prison with the

Reverend Mr. Reddall, and read a sermon of Dr. Blair’s, “on the

misfortunes of men chargeable to themselves;” after which Mr. Reddall

made some explanatory observations, placing their situation in a light

so clear, and in a manner so impressive, yet so consoling, that not one

present could withhold the tribute of a painfully joyous tear. The good

man himself was not unmoved;—hard indeed must be the heart that could be

insensible to a scene so affecting. I viewed with peculiar pleasure the

seven females received at Hobart Town mingling their tears with the

rest. On visiting them within half an hour afterwards in the hospital, I

found that the impression had not been momentary or transient;—they were

still in tears, which their efforts to hide from me left little doubt of

believing unfeigned.

Throughout the whole of this voyage I have uniformly found good effects

to result from conferring some mark of approbation on every meritorious

action the moment it came under my notice:—in addition to some little

necessary articles, such as needles, thread, scissors, and the like,

which I distributed amongst the seven, I permitted them to walk on deck

some hours, and had no cause to be displeased with their behaviour. This

morning I served out to the women the remainder of a small quantity of

thread put on board for their use by order of Government.

10th.—Contrary winds and calms, since leaving Van Diemen’s Land, have

protracted the voyage beyond expectation; but the same cause has given

me additional opportunities of witnessing the most satisfactory conduct

in the women destined for the settlement at Sydney and its

neighbourhood. Although a great number of those left at Hobart Town were

of exemplary character, besides those of a less steady description, yet

those now proceeding with me behave themselves in a manner so discreet

and quiet, that one would suppose there were not more than ten women in

the ship;—no noise,—no romping, nor any trace of indiscretion

observable. Even the seven recently received have in a great degree

coalesced in the discipline established: the four offenders also remain

in strict confinement, overwhelmed with shame and sorrow, appearing more

afflicted by their own sense of bad conduct, than the restraint imposed

on them by forbidding every communication with their fellow prisoners.

According to custom, the women were assembled this day; and at my

request the Reverend Mr. Reddall read to them a select discourse, to

which I added some remarks on their future conduct in the situations to

which they were destined; endeavouring to impress on their minds as

strongly as possible, that their hope of happiness here and hereafter

could repose only upon virtuous conduct, which if they ever kept

sacredly in view, they would most assuredly enjoy in a degree far beyond

any thing they had ever yet known. It was moving to observe how strongly

their feelings testified a love for the influence of virtue; whilst

tears, the evidence of sincerity, because excited from internal

conviction, abundantly made known what was passing in their minds.

A veneration for truth, a love of order, peace, and simplicity of heart,

appear to be the objects of their constant concern and feeling: from a

knowledge of such being truly their state of mind, the best future

behaviour may reasonably be anticipated from every one of them; and,

being allowed to express my own individual opinion, I cannot hesitate to

declare my conviction, that, if duly protected, and not exposed to more

than common temptation, they will realize the most favourable

expectations, and even for ever set an example of propriety to others in

their situation.

This tedious delay in our approach to Sydney protracts my keeping watch

as before; but although little cause now appears to exist for an

absolute necessity of persevering in this duty, some of the most daring

of the sailors having been removed, still an inextinguishable impulse

compels me to proceed in that course which alone can afford me the

certain assurance of its due success,—as, in case of any further

attempts being made upon the prison, I am fully persuaded that even my

individual resistance, such is the dastardly spirit of these licentious

knaves, would be sufficient to defeat them. They know I am on the watch

every night,—for they see me going regularly to my post;—they are also

well aware of my means of defence, and only in consequence are unwilling

to try any experiment of the kind.

12th.—In the afternoon of yesterday, the wind coming favourable, the

Morley ran down the coast freely, and in the evening entered the Heads

of Port Jackson in fine weather, and proceeded towards Sydney with a

light breeze;—all, under divine Providence, being in the best possible

state of health. At half past 5 P. M. the Naval Officer came on board,

and received the dispatches.

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

14th.—At the usual hour this day I read a sermon to the prisoners,

adding a brief advice for their guidance generally, and endeavoured as

much as possible to impress upon their minds a due regard of their

future duties. The sailors offer no annoyance further, at least in any

way which can be directly noticed.

15th.—This morning His Excellency the Governor, accompanied by the

Honourable the Commissioner of Inquiry, came on board to inspect the

prisoners, in pursuance of a polite note from the Commissioner, to that

effect, sent me the preceding evening. The state of the prison, and

every circumstance concerning the health, morals, comfort, and

_security_ of the prisoners, was minutely investigated: whilst the

condition of the women called forth unqualified approval, the structural

defects of the prison excited no ordinary surprise. His Excellency

expressed himself much pleased with the appearance of the prisoners; and

their humble, respectful, and decent demeanour obtained his peculiar

notice. The Governor signified his intention to have them landed early

in the ensuing week.

17th.—This being the sabbath, I read a sermon to the women, and

afterwards explained the absolute necessity there was for guarding with

the utmost vigilance against the numerous snares which seductive

villainy would again and again lay around their every step;—that on

virtue alone, firm and persevering, could their hope of happiness be

placed. I explained to them also the dangers and difficulties which

surrounded their new state of life, but carefully avoided to excite any

unnecessary alarm, whatever might be the foreboding which at that moment

I entertained on their account.

It was then that they tasted in _full bitterness_ the consequences of

their unfortunate departure from honest and virtuous life; every little

circumstance appeared in anticipation an aggravation of their unhappy

lot, and filled them with awful fears. My heart bled for their

affliction;—their grief was suppressed and silent, but its silence was

truly and painfully expressive. Who possessing even the common feelings

of humanity could be present on such an occasion, and remain insensible?

It was indeed distressingly affecting to see so many defenceless

females, recently reclaimed from the very worst state of vice and

criminality, and from a thorough sense of repentance abhorring

wickedness of every kind, now about to be sent adrift among an abandoned

and dissolute male population, and amidst others of their own sex, who

rarely, if ever, felt a blush for those misdeeds which had deprived them

of early home, and in their banishment have rather, it is feared,

cherished than renounced their former vicious propensities.

18th.—At 10 A. M. this day the Secretary to Government, accompanied by

Lieutenant-Governor Colonel Erskine, came on board and mustered the

prisoners. Their general appearance was decent and modestly reserved.

Their dresses were slightly objected to, as being rather fine for their

condition; but this was by no means unusual, arising from a habit of

cleanliness, which was constantly maintained throughout the voyage, with

a view both to the preservation of health, and to encourage them to

cultivate a proper respect for themselves,—it being invariably known

from experience, that a slovenly disposition tends to the injury of

health, and the deterioration of moral sensibility.

19th.—At 9 this morning, according to a Government order received last

evening, the prisoners were landed and conducted to the gaol, in the

yard of which, as the weather was remarkably fine, His Excellency the

Governor inspected them; and having given them much excellent advice,

and admonished them impressively on the necessity of maintaining, by the

strictest propriety of conduct, the very high characters with which they

came before him, gave directions for the disposal of such as had got

situations at Sydney, and ordered proper care to be taken of the rest

until they could be removed to the Factory at Parramatta.

OF THE SCHOOL ON BOARD.

It was stated at the commencement of this journal, that a school was to

be formed on board for the children of the convicts, as also for those

of the free passengers; and that the Committee of Ladies had provided at

their own expense a school-mistress to have charge of them under my

immediate direction. It now remains to give some account of the manner

in which this undertaking was conducted, and to explain the motives

which induced me to defer noticing its progress among the daily

occurrences in my journal of the voyage.

Some weeks after the formation of the school, the Reverend Mr. Reddall

with his family embarked in the vessel for a passage to New South Wales,

whither he was proceeding with the very laudable intention of

introducing Dr. Bell’s system of education into that colony. This

gentleman recommended that system to be adopted on board, and most

obligingly offered to demonstrate it himself. Availing myself of this

kind proposal, I had his suggestions strictly enforced, and his

assistance proved of very great benefit to every one old enough to admit

of their receiving instruction, as soon became evident from the

proficiency made by many of them under this admirable system, which far

exceeded any expectation that could have been reasonably indulged.

It was really delightful to witness the eagerness with which the

children applied, and the rapidly corresponding progress they

made,—several of them having become acquainted with the rudiments of

spelling and reading before they could distinctly articulate the words.

In proportion as their proficiency in the principles was ascertained,

their moral instruction was attended to by making them familiar with

easy hymns, and also teaching them to commit to memory psalms, and

chapters from the New Testament, to an extent almost surpassing

credibility. Memorial lessons of this description have been recited to

myself, to the number of two hundred and thirty-eight in all, during the

voyage, by children _every one of whom was under ten years of age, and

some not quite five_.

My approbation of their diligence was always accompanied by some small

present, such as a hymn or tract; and some of those interesting young

creatures evinced an emulation to be thus distinguished, in a degree

scarcely to be expected from children more than twice their age, bred up

under much greater advantages and in circumstances far more favourable.

Many of them, indeed, exhibited marks of intellect, which, under proper

cultivation, promised to make them distinguished in future life.

Several of the prisoners too, influenced by the example and improvement

of the children, respectfully requested to be furnished with elementary

books, which were immediately issued; and the use made of them may be

estimated from the very gratifying fact, that nine or ten of the number

thus supplied had learned to read more or less before they landed in the

colony. It is to be observed, however, that they did not join the

school, but were taught in the prison by their companions: nor should it

pass without note, that of those who thus exerted themselves to acquire

a little instruction, _all but one were from Newgate_.

I cannot dismiss this subject without expressing the deep sense of

obligation I entertain for the zealous exertions and friendly

co-operation shown by Mr. Reddall in his devoted attentions to the

children, as well as on every other occasion when his ready services

could be available. It is but justice also to state, that Mrs.

Josephson, to whom the care of the school was intrusted, discharged that

duty in a manner highly creditable, having been uniformly decent,

orderly, and attentive.

-----

Footnote 6:

It is due to those charitable donors to state, that after the convicts

had been abundantly supplied, a good many remained, which I committed

to the care of the Honourable Judge Advocate WYLDE, who most

obligingly offered to distribute them to such persons as, from his

very extensive acquaintance with the state of the population in the

colony, he knew would be most likely to benefit by them.

Footnote 7:

Where any intermission of regular dates may appear in this journal, it

is to be understood that nothing of importance occurred during the

time of which no mention is made.

Footnote 8:

John, chap. vi. 37th verse.

Footnote 9:

Matthew, chap. xviii. 35th verse.

Footnote 10:

Isaiah, chap. i. 18th verse.

Footnote 11:

Ezekiel, chap. xxxiii. 11th verse.

Footnote 12:

Romans, chap. viii. 18th verse.

Footnote 13:

Matthew, chap. xv. 19th verse.

Footnote 14:

1 Corinthians, chap. vi. 9th verse.

Footnote 15:

The illness alluded to was excited by excessive exertion to suppress

riot and quarrels among the prisoners, occasioned by the clandestine

introduction of spirits, as may be seen on reference to the journal of

the 20th of the preceding month.

Footnote 16:

Hebrews, chapter ix. verse 27.

Footnote 17:

Luke, chap. xvi. 31st verse.

Footnote 18:

Mark, chap. ix. 44th verse.

Footnote 19:

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

Footnote 20:

Chapter v. 39th verse.

Footnote 21:

1 Corinth, chap. ii. verse 9.

Footnote 22:

Psalm iv. 4th verse.

Footnote 23:

Proverbs.

Footnote 24:

Daniel, chap. v. verse 5.

Footnote 25:

Isaiah, chap. lvii. verses 20, 21.

Footnote 26:

Galat. chap. vi. verse. 9.

Footnote 27:

2 Thess. chap. iii. verse 10.

Footnote 28:

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

Footnote 29:

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