This man could say from his own experience, that the way of the
transgressor is hard, his whole life having been an alternation of
crime and punishment. When out of prison he was ever in the act of, or
in the preparation for, some violation of the law, but when in prison,
he was orderly and submissive, and therefore deserved well of his
keepers.
As sin had ruined his moral nature, so had intemperance his physical,
and when his last sickness came upon him, his pain was as severe as
humanity can suffer. His groans and shrieks echoed through the prison
like the wailings of a lost spirit, but in vain was it that he begged
for medicine; nor could he obtain a place in the hospital till a few
hours before he died. The night before his death he mentioned a remedy
which he had used in time past with effect, and desired to have it
obtained for him, but could not prevail. After much importunity,
however, the Warden promised him that he should have it on Monday.
"But," said the dying man, "I cannot live till then, unless I obtain
relief." This was on Saturday night, I think, and, on the evening
after he was a corpse.
After his death, the chaplain was instructed that the death was sudden
and unexpected; and he accordingly preached a sermon the following
Sabbath, grounded on that information, and wove into his remarks a
great deal of mercy which he said the dead man had experienced, in his
last hours. I reflect not on the Chaplain, for he was so informed; but
may God have mercy on that unfeeling tyrant, who denied medicine to a
dying man; and pardon that hypocrisy which led him to cover his
cruelty with the disguise of compassion. I wish him no greater
suffering, than the recollection of _Noble_ will one day give to his
soul.