_Written in the Condemned Cells, Newgate, by Captain Lee, the night
previous to his execution, being convicted of forging a bill of exchange
for 15l. on the Ordnance Office._
_Newgate, March_ 3, 1784.
My Dear Sir,--Before this reaches you, the head that dictates and the
hand that traces these lines shall be no more. Earthly cares shall all
be swallowed up, and the death of an unthinking man shall have atoned
for the trespass he has committed against the laws of his country. But
ere the curtain be for ever dropped, or remembrance leave this tortured
breast, let me take this last and solemn leave of one with whom I have
passed so many social and instructive hours, whose conversation I fondly
cultivated, and whose friendship for me I hope will remain, even after
the clay-cold hand of death has closed my eyes in everlasting darkness.
I cannot think you will view this letter with stoic coolness, or with
listless indifference. Absorbed as the generality of men are in the
pursuits of pleasure or the avocations of business, there are times when
the mind looks inward upon itself, when a review of past follies induces
us to future amendment, and when a consciousness of having acted wrong
leads us to resolutions of doing right. In one of those fortunate
moments may you receive these last admonitions! Shun but the rock on
which I have struck, and you will be sure to avoid the shipwreck I have
suffered. Initiated in the army at an early period of life, I soon
anticipated not only the follies, but even the vices of my companions.
Before, however, I could share with undisturbed repose in the wickedness
of others, it was necessary to remove from myself what the infidel terms
the prejudices of a Christian education. In this I unfortunately
succeeded; and conceiving from my tenderest years a taste for reading,
my sentiments were confirmed, not by the flimsy effusions of empty
libertines, but by the specious sophistry of modern philosophers. It
must be owned that at first I was rather pleased with the elegance of
their language than the force of their reasoning; as, however, we are
apt to believe what we eagerly wish to be true, in a short time I soon
became a professed deist. My favourite author was the late celebrated
David Hume. I constantly urged his exemplary behaviour in private as a
strong argument in favour of his doctrines, forgetting that his literary
life was uniformly employed in diffusing his pernicious tenets, and his
utmost endeavours were constantly exerted in extending the baneful
influence of his philosophical principles. Happy for me had I always
been actuated by the considerations which fill my bosom at this moment,
and which I hope will animate me in that awful part to-morrow's sun
shall see me perform. But the die is cast, and I leave to the world this
mournful memento, "that however much a man may be favoured by personal
qualifications, or distinguished by mental endowments, genius will be
useless, and abilities avail but little, unless accompanied by a sense
of religion, and attended by the practice of virtue; destitute of these,
he will only be mounted on the wings of folly, that he may fall with
greater force into the dark abyss of endless despair."
On my returning to a belief of the truths of Christianity, I have been
very much assisted by the pious exhortations of the ordinary, as well as
by the book he has put into my hands; and I feel a comfort which I am
unable to express by this his charitable and benevolent attention to me.
I believe there is no passion more prevalent in the human breast than
the wish that our memory should be held in remembrance. I shudder at the
thought lest my name should be branded with infamy, when I lie
mouldering in the dust, as I know well that the tongue of malice is ever
loud against the failings of the unfortunate. When, however, my
character is insulted, and my poor reputation attacked, extenuate, I
beseech you, the enormity of my crime, by relating the hardships of my
sufferings. Tell to the giddy and affluent, that, strangers to the
severity of want, they know not the pain of withstanding the almost
irresistible calls of nature. The poor will, I trust, commiserate my
misfortunes, and shed a sympathetic tear at the mournful tale of my
miserable fate. I can say no more. Heaven have mercy on us all!
Adieu for ever. J. LEE.
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