Transcribed from the 1830 Hatchard and Son edition by David Price, email
ccx074@pglaf.org
AN ACCOUNT
OF
THE DEATH
OF
PHILIP JOLIN,
WHO WAS EXECUTED
FOR THE
MURDER OF HIS FATHER, IN THE ISLAND OF JERSEY,
OCTOBER 3, 1829.
* * * * *
BY
FRANCIS CUNNINGHAM, A. M.
RECTOR OF PAKEFIELD.
* * * * *
LONDON: HATCHARD AND SON, PICCADILLY;
SEELEY AND SONS, FLEET STREET; AND J. NESBITT,
BERNERS STREET.
* * * * *
1830.
* * * * *
LONDON:
IBOTSON AND PALMER, PRINTERS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND.
ADVERTISEMENT.
To determine the real state of mind in a criminal manifesting, for the
first time, when under sentence of death, signs of repentance, is plainly
a work of much difficulty. If ever dissimulation may be expected, it
must be in the case of a person probably long habituated, and, in his
present circumstances, additionally excited to it by the fear of death:
and the experience of every minister of religion conversant in such
cases, must teach him that professions of religion, under such
circumstances, are far oftener the language of alarm, than of real
conversion. Every one, therefore, would earnestly covet, with Mr.
Newton, to know rather how the man lived, than how he had died. But here
the life and the death may offer the most conflicting evidence. How
difficult it is then so to decide as not, on the one hand, to make “the
heart of the righteous sad, whom God has not made sad;” upon the other,
to say “peace” to the soul, “when there is no peace.”
Most of the cases of religious communication with dying criminals,
recorded in the public prints, are in the highest degree painful. The
chaplain goes through the forms of instruction, the sermon is preached,
and then, without one proof being assigned of the fitness of the criminal
for that solemn ordinance of religion, the sacrament is administered.
All the requisitions of our church, as to “those who come to the Lord’s
supper,” are passed by. The deep workings of repentance, and longing for
amendment, the exercise of a lively faith in Christ, the thankful
remembrance of his death, the feeling of universal charity so difficult
in such circumstances; in short, every evidence of an awakened and
converted heart is neglected, and the man forced upon a hypocritical
avowal of truth, to which he is in reality utterly a stranger. He dies,
in fact, with “a lie in his right hand”—a lie, the guilt of which is
surely divided between himself and the minister who urges him to the rash
reception of the sacrament.
It is under the deepest conviction of the difficulty of such cases, that
the present tract, recording the events of the last eleven days in the
life of a criminal is presented to the public. His crimes had been
great, but hypocrisy was not amongst their number. His faculties were
not such as to give him any peculiar facility in adopting the truths
presented to him. He had received no previous religious instruction. He
had no uncommon power of utterance. Let the reader judge whether the
words and conduct, both before and after conviction, as recorded in these
pages, do not supply an evidence of the power of God to reclaim the
wanderer even in the eleventh hour; and are not calculated, in the
highest degree, to encourage the often disconsolate visitor of the sick,
the dying, and the criminal. The facts here recorded have been collected
partly by personal communication, partly from letters to the writer from
the Rev. W. C. Hall, and partly from a printed account of the Rev. E.
Durell. The substance of the statement was first inserted in the
Christian Observer, and it is now submitted, with some alteration, to the
public, and with an earnest desire that its perusal may, through the
Divine blessing, tend to the glory of that compassionate Saviour, to
whose service it is dedicated.
THE
LAST DAYS OF PHILIP JOLIN,
LATELY EXECUTED AT ST. HELENS,
FOR
THE MURDER OF HIS FATHER.
THE particulars of the crime of this unfortunate young man may be stated
in a few words. He had long been known in the neighbourhood where he
lived, as an object of disgrace, and the cause of perpetual disturbance.
Not indeed that he was more profligate in character than those with whom
he was immediately connected. His father, as well as his mother-in-law,
lived in habits of drunkenness. She died eight months before the son
committed the crime for which he suffered. Jolin was, with his father,
by trade a blacksmith. His business brought with it some temptation to
drinking; and, in Jersey, where spirits are cheaper even than in England,
this disposition was most easily gratified. So that, with the example of
his parents, and his own circumstances, it is not a matter of
astonishment that he fell into the course of sin which led to his ruin.
The progress of vice was, it is to be presumed, in his case, like that of
other drunkards. The liquor, at first taken as a bodily relief,
unguarded by any restraint, was soon resorted to as an indulgence; till
at last he was enlisted in the number of those of whom the prophet
speaks, “who rise up in the morning that they may follow their drink, and
continue till night, till wine inflames them.” But the abominable
tendency of this particular sin is illustrated almost equally by the
conduct of the father and son.
It appeared on the trial of Jolin, that he had been exposed to the
greatest cruelties on the part of his father. One person deposed, that
he had often seen him beat his son with a hammer, or any thing else,
which might happen to come under his hand, and almost always about the
head; and the scars from these wounds were seen on his head when he was
committed to prison. Another, that she had once heard the prisoner’s
mother cry out for help. She went in, and saw the son down, and the
father striking him with an iron bar, saying at the same time, that he
was going to kill him. Very often he would not give him any food.
Another witness testified, that, going into the house of the father, he
saw him put down a flat iron bar, with which he had just been striking
his son on the head, and his head was covered with blood. He was laid on
his bed, but his father refused to allow any assistance to be tendered to
him. This witness had seen the father kick his son about several parts
of the body. What a contrast is all this to that scene which the
psalmist describes of a household where the Spirit of God dwells—“Behold,
how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity,
for there the Lord commandeth his blessing.” These facts are introduced,
not only in explanation of the subject, but that some light may be thrown
on the appeal which Jolin afterwards made to his judge on his own behalf.
On the morning on which the last crime was committed, as Jolin confessed
to one who attended upon him in prison, he had drank to excess, and
become completely intoxicated. In this state he returned to his own
home—a home of which, he added, “no one knew the wretchedness.” It was
dinner time, but he found no food prepared, and from his father he met
with only that reception which he might expect from such a parent; more
especially when he himself was overcome with drunkenness. He went into
the garden to gather a pear, and about this the fatal quarrel ensued.
The father had come behind, and caught him by the cape of the jacket, and
kicked him about the back and legs. He tore himself from his father, and
was soon seen running out of the house crying, and the father in the act
of pursuing, as if with the intention of striking him. The father said
that he would “settle him when he returned.” The son replied, that he
would “settle him (the father) also.” The son then ran to a heap of
bricks which lay in the street, and taking one which he appears to have
broken in two pieces, he returned to be revenged on his father. He was
remonstrated with by a neighbour, but in vain. In his rage he threw the
brickbats at his father. One of the pieces struck him on the head, and
he immediately fell to the ground. The wretched sufferer swooned from
the violence of the blow and the loss of blood. In this state he appears
to have remained, with very little change, for about an hour, when he
died. It is not stated whether he was enabled to cry for mercy to that
God, into whose presence he was thus awfully hurried; or whether he had
time to reflect upon the state of his son, and his probable punishment.
How awful must have been the change to this wretched man, when he found
himself in a moment lifting up his eyes before the Judge of quick and
dead!
Meanwhile, the son, utterly unconscious of what he had done, or feeling
only satisfaction at what he thought was the suitable punishment for his
father, went out again, and finding his way into a neighbour’s shop, told
the keeper of it that his father had beaten him, and that he had knocked
him down. Here he fell asleep, and slept probably till his fit of
intoxication had passed away. On rising he was about quietly and
unsuspectingly to return to the scene of his crime, when he was arrested
and brought to prison. When, on the way to the prison, he was told that
his conduct might possibly bring him to the gallows, he showed his first
symptom of alarm. He remained in prison till Thursday, September 24,
when he was submitted to his first public examination. The trial,
according to the laws of that country, was repeated on Monday the 28th.
The judges, and two juries, in number together thirty-seven, after the
fullest investigation of the facts, and after hearing the able defence of
his advocate, Mr. Hammond, pronounced his crime to be murder, and
condemned him to death. The court refused even to make application for
the mitigation of punishment, whereupon he was delivered to the execution
of his sentence, which he underwent on Saturday, Oct. 3d.
There were many particulars in this case, in addition to the remarkable
nature of the crime, and indeed the rareness of any crime of such
magnitude in the small district in which it occurred, that made it a
subject of very general notice. One leading circumstance was the
manifest alteration which took place in Jolin’s mind during the period of
his imprisonment. Upon this point there was an entire agreement of
opinion amongst all persons who had any acquaintance with the real state
of the case. Not only ministers, both of the church and the Dissenters,
but persons of other classes, bore testimony to the reality of _a_
change; the _nature_ of which, however, not so many persons could detect,
as its very striking effects. The newspaper spoke of an “alteration”
which took place in him, of his “confession, in the most humble terms, of
his own sinfulness;” of “his forcible admonitions to others to abstain
from evil, and to practise the duties of religion and morality;” but of
the change of heart which this case exhibited, the editor of the paper
seems to have had no real understanding. The case of Jolin, convinced of
his sin, however, is that of a man, not merely convinced of his guilt in
one instance, and anxious to warn others not converted by the Holy Ghost,
acknowledging his total alienation of heart from God, and persuaded that
all his repentance, all his good resolutions, could never expiate his
past sins; but that, as he himself said, “Christ was his only hope; for
HE had paid his ransom, and He would receive him into glory.”
The greater part of persons who have had much experience in visiting the
dying sick, or condemned criminals, have, in general, little confidence
in a repentance which only springs up under the apprehension of immediate
death, whatever flights of sentiment may be exhibited. They have seen in
the backsliding of men who promised every thing in the time of sickness,
how vain, generally speaking, are the convictions of their sincerity. In
the greater part of these cases, there is a want of completeness in the
work of repentance and faith, which the experienced pastoral visitor is
often able to detect; too little of real contrition, or too much of
profession and confidence. But in the case in question, those who
visited Jolin confess themselves to have been impressed, as they might
conceive the spectators to be affected by the case of the thief on the
cross. One and all were led to say, “this is the finger of God.” Under
such circumstances, it cannot surely be wrong to gather together a few
particulars of this history, which will be interesting to those, at
least, who have experienced the power of divine grace in their own change
of heart, and who rejoice in every display of it in the sinner that
repenteth.
Jolin appears in early life to have been sent to school, although he
said, that such had been the irregularity of his father’s house, and such
the hindrances thrown in his way, that he had been more impeded than
encouraged by his parents, in any attempt to attend upon the public means
of religious instruction. How tremendous is the responsibility of such a
father and mother; culpable in their neglect, but awfully so in their
example! And what a case is here presented of the retributive justice of
God! The father trained his child in habits of intoxication, and treated
him with cruel violence; and the son, in a fit of intoxication, by an act
of violence, hurried his father headlong to the bar of God’s judgment.
We are not able, often, so clearly to trace the workings of Almighty
wrath; nor is it to be expected, that, placed as we are in a state in
which we must look for our rewards or punishments beyond the grave, we
should here see any proportionate recompense of crime. Still we know,
that “as a man sows so he shall also reap,” if not in this world, to
bring him to repentance, yet certainly, and how much more awfully! in
that world where a place for repentance is no where found.
This young man, on some occasions previous to his committal to prison,
had read the Bible; for he remarked to one of his attendants, that when
at sea, during his watch, he had done so; but he added, “I then read it
as a sealed book. I had neither eyes given me to see, nor ears to hear,
and this was a just judgment upon me for my sins.” His mode of life had,
indeed, been one of complete dissoluteness. He went to sea, because he
was too bad to remain on land; and he returned to shore, probably because
he was wearied of the restraints at sea. The relations of the family,
disgusted at the scenes of vice in his father’s house, abandoned them.
So that it is not easy to conceive a state of lower degradation than this
young man had reached. No one, as he himself said, could describe the
misery of this state as he had experienced it. What situation could
indeed more completely tend to brutalize the mind, to deaden every
feeling of conscience, to leave the man long habituated to it “without
hope,” and indeed “without God in the world?” The nature of the crime
for which Jolin was committed to prison, was such as to increase the
general horror against him. This was exhibited by the crowd, in the
streets, on the occasion of his trial; so that his various crimes had
made him an outcast from the pity and compassion of his fellow-creatures.
It is true, there were particular circumstances in his case, which, if
generally known, would have lessened the public indignation, and which
might have been a source of secret satisfaction to himself. These were
the exceeding badness of his education, the brutality of his father, the
continual discord of his family, the state of intoxication in which he
was when he unintentionally committed the crime; but these points,
although once alluded to in his appeal to his judges, were scarcely
mentioned by him in his private conversations, so completely was the
conviction established in his mind, that he had fallen into sin by the
wilfulness of his own heart, that he had destroyed himself; and that to a
greater depth of transgression he could scarcely have reached.
After Jolin had been lodged in gaol, he was visited by a very respectable
relative, Mr. Pinel, a member of the Methodist church. He made this
visit, as he himself testified, without the hope of any spiritual
benefit. He, however, desired to relieve his temporal necessities, and
to afford him all the comfort in his power. He found the poor culprit in
a most pitiable state. Overwhelmed and stunned by his situation, he was
lying on a heap of straw, and appeared like one who had no hope to look
to in this world, or the next. Mr. Pinel said to him, “Young man, I
think both your body and your soul are in great danger.” Jolin did not
answer, but sobbed excessively. He then procured for him a bed, and some
comfortable clothing, and put into his hands a French Testament. Soon
after, as there was at that time no chaplain regularly appointed to the
gaol, Jolin was visited by the curate of the parish, M. Falle. After
some days, M. Falle’s great occupation in his ministry led him to
transfer this important and interesting charge to the Rev. W. C. Hall, a
young clergyman residing in the island, who took the more immediate care
of him, watched over, instructed, and finally attended him through the
dark valley of the shadow of death, till he reached, as I doubt not, the
portal of the heavenly abode. Meanwhile the Testament was not neglected
by Jolin. He read it nearly through; but, in the first instance, it
would seem, without understanding the nature of the message which it was
designed to convey. His mind, however, was no doubt gradually preparing
by the Holy Spirit to receive the instruction about to be more fully
imparted. On the 22d of September, about ten days before his execution,
Jolin was visited by Mr. Hall and another clergyman. He was then sitting
in his bed, and looking as wretched as might be expected under the
circumstances in which he was placed; as Mr. Pinel had stated, “without
hope for this world, or the next.” They immediately entered upon the
object of their visit, and spoke to him of the nature of his offence; of
the sin of murder, as condemned by the law of God, and aggravated in his
case, because committed against a parent; of its sentence in the judgment
of men, and its heinousness in the sight of God. They pointed out to
him, that, awful as is man’s sentence against this crime, little
consideration was due to this in comparison with the condemnation which
the law of God pronounced; and that this condemnation had passed upon
him, and that the execution of its sentence of eternal death would be
inflicted if he did not repent, and seek help and pardon through Jesus
Christ. All this was manifest, for it was written in the word of God,
that murderers should have their part in the lake which burneth with fire
and brimstone (Rev. xxi. 8;) that drunkards should not inherit the
kingdom of God, (1 Cor. vi. 10:) and this condemnation, it was also
pointed out, extended not only to these crimes, but to that of the
general sin of the heart, and was the necessary consequence of its
separation and alienation from God. That this condemnation would come
upon all sinners was evident, for it is written, “The wages of sin is
death,” (Rom. vi. 23.) One point appeared particularly to produce the
deepest sensation of pain in this young man’s mind; this was the
representation of the conduct of God towards him in reference to his
father; that whilst that unhappy man had been cut off, and sent almost
without warning, with all his sins upon him, before the Judge who will
deal with every man according to his works, he, the murderer, had been
spared, and brought into a prison, where he had opportunity given him to
reflect upon his state, to seek for pardon, and where salvation was
offered to him, if he would turn and seek it. The cry of, “Oh my father,
my poor father!” mingled with his sobs on that occasion.
Although Jolin’s crime was so palpable, and was confessed by him in the
fullest, yet as it was committed unconsciously, and he had seen no traces
of it, except in what others told him, the whole seemed like a dream; and
the deed itself, with its appalling circumstances, were not likely to
fasten themselves on his mind as if it had been premeditated, or as if he
had been in full possession of his understanding, or as if he, which he
himself wished, had seen his father’s murdered corpse. However, this
circumstance afterwards appeared to turn out to his advantage. It
prevented him from fixing his thoughts exclusively on a particular sin;
and he was thus less hindered in discovering the sinfulness of his nature
and of his general habits, and learning the lesson it is often so
difficult to comprehend, that we are not less condemned by the law of God
for our general alienation from him, than for any one or more scandalous
offences which we may have committed. Not that this state of mind in
Jolin prevented him from coming to the deepest sense of his own
particular offence; for as he learned more thoroughly to understand the
nature of sin in general, his feeling for his peculiar crime more deeply
penetrated his soul. One other subject seemed to produce in him the same
intense state of feeling which the mention of his father had done; this
was the sin of intemperance, which had, as I have before remarked, been
the immediate cause of his crime. Mr. Hall, thinking that he might be
suffering from the cold, confined as he was in a large stone-chamber, of
which the window was usually open, guarded him against seeking a refuge
from his sufferings from drinking. At the mention of this, he went off
again into expressions of horror at the supposed possibility of such an
offence in his tremendous circumstances, and declared that nothing should
again tempt him thus to transgress. Yet, as Mr. Hall observes, were his
resolutions expressed rather as if smarting under the penalty of his
crime, than as if conscious of his own inability to keep the engagement
which he was entering into. He spoke as a man strong in his own
strength, and as yet unacquainted with the perfect weakness of resolution
not formed in dependence upon the power of God.
On the point of again falling into the sins of which he seemed to have
repented, three distinct states were noticed in Jolin’s case before his
execution. At first, as at this visit, he was fully confident that, if
he were once more to be set at liberty, he should never again become
intoxicated. Afterwards, when he came to discover the exceeding weakness
of his nature, he even dreaded the possibility of his life being accorded
to him, lest he should again fall into temptation. And, lastly, he
learned to believe, that having cast himself entirely upon Divine grace,
and, therefore, using those means of watchfulness and prayer which the
word of God prescribes, he needed not fear, if he were called again to
life, the temptation even to those vices to which he had been most
habituated. On the occasion of this visit, the fifty-first Psalm was
pointed out to him. It was in the Prayer-book version, as there was no
Bible at hand. This Psalm, so remarkably calculated to meet the
experience of a man feeling deeply his sins, and more particularly of one
implicated as he was in such a variety of vice, struck his attention very
deeply; and the more so when, the next day, it was read to him in the
Bible translation, and its chief points expounded to him. He learned a
great part of this Psalm by heart; it was nearly the last portion of
Scripture that he repeated; and it became one of the subjects of his
meditation during the long nights in which he was shut up alone.
The next day, the 23d, two or three passages of Scripture were introduced
to his notice; besides which a fuller view was presented to him of the
nature and consequences of sin. On this occasion he was taught in what
manner sin is the defilement of the whole heart; that even the sins of
his youth brought him just as much into condemnation before a holy God as
his one great crime; that eternal death was the wages of every
transgression of the Divine law; and that repentance unto life required
not only a feeling of sorrow for one sin, but for every sin, yea, for sin
itself, as an offence against the Almighty. The promises of God to the
chief of sinners were then pointed out him from Isa. i. 18, that “though
his sins were as scarlet, they might be made white as snow;” and from
Isa. lv. 6, 7, that “if the wicked forsook his way, and returned unto the
Lord, he would have mercy, and abundantly pardon.” The former of these
passages remained fixed in his memory, and was a continual source of
consolation to his mind. He now began to feel that his sins were as
scarlet, and to desire earnestly to be pardoned. Two other passages were
also at that time referred to, and enlarged upon. The first of these was
John iii. 14, 15. “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness,
even so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth on him
should not perish, but have everlasting life.” This type presenting so
remarkable an image of the Lord Jesus Christ lifted up to bear the sins
of his people, and affording a remedy to those who really believe in Him,
was peculiarly calculated to meet his case: and he was further taught
from it, that as this people, if they had rather chosen to trust to other
remedies, or had refused to look at the brazen serpent, or had spent
their time in mourning over their maladies, instead of doing as they were
commanded, would never have been healed; so if the sinner does not look
to Christ, there is no hope for him. One other important lesson was also
gathered from this subject; namely, that “if a serpent had bitten any
man, when he beheld the serpent of brass, he lived;” and in like manner,
“Whosoever believeth on Jesus Christ shall not perish, but have eternal
life.” Jolin was thus instructed in the mode of pardon before God,
through the merits of Jesus Christ; and in the efficacy of this remedy,
the universality of it to all that believe, and the nature of faith, the
means by which it can alone be appropriated.
The last passage referred to was the history of the Scape goat, contained
in Lev. xvi. In this history we find that Aaron, whilst the people
afflicted their souls, (ver. 29,) laid both his hands on the head of the
live goat, and confessed on him all the iniquities of the children of
Israel, and all their transgressions, putting them upon the head of the
goat, and that the goat bore away with him all their iniquities into a
land not inhabited. The illustration of this subject, and its
application to Jolin’s own case, were very obvious. The people
“afflicting their soul,” denoted the state in which every sinner must
present himself before God—for it is the broken and the contrite heart
which God will not despise; the “confession of sin” on the head of the
goat pointed out the first and necessary duty of the returning
penitent—for “if we say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves, and the
truth is not in us; but if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just
to forgive us our sins:” the laying the sins upon the head of the goat
exhibited the act of faith, by which the condemnation of the sinner is
transferred to his atoning sacrifice; and the leading away the goat into
the wilderness, the full, perfect, and eternal pardon promised in the
Gospel, of every sin to every repenting sinner.
Although Jolin was not a person of uncommon capacity, and although these
passages of Scripture seemed to be new to him, yet he apprehended them in
a manner which gave just indication that his heart was under the Divine
teaching. It is said, Isa. liv. 13, “All thy children shall be taught of
the Lord.” This state of teachableness now seemed to have been produced
in this poor young man. The power of God had made his heart _willing_,
Ps. cx. 3; and he came very soon to understand the truths by which he
might be saved. When the will of man is not disposed to submit to God,
every doctrine of the Gospel presents difficulties; one point is
unreasonable, another impossible, a third useless; but when the mind is
taught of God, it is astonishing how soon all these difficulties vanish.
The doctrines of the Gospel, which seem the most hard to understand and
to receive, are at once comprehended. It is like a change from darkness
to light. The passages of Scripture which teach the sinfulness of our
own nature, the worth of a Saviour, the nature of faith, the pleasantness
of religion, the delight attendant upon dwelling with God, are at once
received and adopted; and the whole system of Christianity is discovered
to be one exactly suited to the sinner’s own state. But the willingness
of heart which is necessary to a right reception of religion, we are
every where in Scripture taught, is the gift of the Holy Spirit. It
cometh “not of blood,” that is, from our parents; “nor of the will of the
flesh,” that is, by our own natural inclination; “nor of the will of
man,” that is, by the teaching of others; “but of God.” “The wind
bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst
not tell whence it cometh and whither it goeth: so is every one that is
born of the Spirit.” We see then how necessary it is that, if any man
“lack wisdom,” he should “ask it of God;” and so much the more, as our
Lord himself declares, Luke xi. 13, his desire to give his Holy Spirit to
them that ask him.
The 24th was the day of Jolin’s first trial, at the close of which he was
found guilty. Some of his friends, whom he had asked to go to him, went
after the trial. They expected to find him, on this occasion, in some
degree disturbed and agitated in mind; but it was altogether otherwise.
The irons to which he was sentenced were put on him in their presence.
To this, as the natural consequence of his condemnation, he submitted
almost without notice. Indeed, the trial and the condemnation itself
seem to have made little or no impression upon him; for it was only by
minute and repeated inquiry as to the proceedings of the day, that
visitors could obtain from him any account of them. His mind seemed
absorbed in something else; and what this was, afterwards appeared. His
conduct, during his trial, had been remarked by many of his judges, as
entirely suitable to his awful situation. Indeed, his whole frame of
mind was now beginning to discover the influence of a new principle, and
to show that the great work of regeneration was taking place. In the
early part of his confinement, and indeed very recently, he had wished,
as he might naturally, for his escape; and his cry to his advocate had
been, “Save me from the gallows;” but at this period, the desire that his
life might be spared, seemed to be taken away from him in a most
astonishing degree. It was not so with the very zealous and able
advocate to whom his cause had been committed, and who very properly
continued to the end, to urge every plea, and to encourage his client to
every effort, by which his punishment might be remitted, or even delayed.
His friends too were most kindly anxious on this point; and they even
attempted to prove him insane, that they might effect their purpose. For
a time he was influenced by the same desire. But to those who visited
him about this period, he never once alluded to a desire to escape; but
on the contrary, seemed almost always to refer to his sentence without
apparent emotion; and towards the end, he appeared to long for, and to be
earnest for its completion. This state of mind was no doubt to be
attributed to two causes; in part, to a complete acquaintance with the
state of his own case, and to its final settlement by his judges; but
probably much more to his new state of religious feeling; a sense of his
own spiritual condition had begun to swallow up every other
consideration.
A friend had given him the second chapter of the Ephesians for his
consideration, that he might gain still further views of his state of
guilt and defilement, and that he might more clearly trace both the power
of Divine grace, by which the sinner is quickened, and the bright
prospect placed before those who seek for pardon by the blood of Christ.
The conversation of this day led to the subjects contained in this
chapter; and more particularly to the impossibility of man’s pardon, but
by the grace of God, through Christ Jesus. In the midst of a statement
of the hindrances in the way of salvation, from the evil of our heart,
the weakness of our best endeavours, and the defilement of our services,
Jolin remarked, “I must put off my sins.” It was asked, what he meant by
putting off his sins. His answer manifested at once the simple, but
clear, manner in which he had received the Scripture illustration pointed
out to him the day before, and it was truly gladdening to the feelings of
his visitors: “Did you not tell me yesterday about the live goat on whose
head the sins were laid?” The application of the type of the scape goat
had thus been made by him to his own state; and he had arrived at the
conviction, that, whatever might have been his sins, and whatever were
his hindrances, he was permitted to “put them all off,” upon that
all-sufficient atonement, the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sins of
the world. He had thus been enabled to feel his burden, to bring it to
the cross of Christ; and at once it seemed to have fallen from him at the
feet of his Redeemer.
The nature of faith is illustrated in a very interesting manner, by the
case of Jolin. The sinfulness of his own state he knew, and felt deeply.
He did not, however, seek to excuse himself, or to palliate his offences:
he did not think that past services would be any compensation to God;
that any circumstance of his life or character would skreen him from
Almighty wrath; or that by repentance he might be pardoned through the
mere mercy of his Heavenly Father. In himself, therefore, he had no
ground of hope whatsoever: he was as a debtor who had nothing to pay; as
a sick man whose case was desperate: but he felt an assurance that Christ
was able to pay his debt, and to cure his disease, and that in his own
particular case, he would do it; and he himself did in heart, what the
high priest did with his hands, transfer all his sins to the atonement.
Thus he came to feel, not indeed presumptuously, but with confidence,
that all his sins were laid upon the sacrifice; and he was able to
contemplate the Saviour’s mercies instead of his own merited doom as a
sinner. The ground of this assurance in his mind was an acceptance of
the simple testimony of God, that he would blot out his transgressions.
He believed in this word of promise, and joy in believing was at once
imparted to him. The simplicity with which Jolin received the testimony
of God in this instance characterized his religious experience during the
whole of his remaining course. The Scriptures were as a message of God
to his soul. He received them as feeling there could be no doubt but
every word of them was true. I often, said Mr. Hall, in the after part
of his history, tried to persuade him that it was, naturally speaking, an
incredible thing that God should have come in the flesh and atone for
sin. But he always said that he believed it, because it was so written
in the book which is the truth.
I have before noticed the indifference which Jolin appeared to feel to
outward circumstances. I have yet to observe another point connected
with it, in this day’s visit, which was the brightness and almost
cheerfulness of aspect that his manner and countenance gradually assumed.
In the period before his condemnation, his downcast look and general air
of wretchedness were not unsuited to a state of despair; but now he
lifted up his head, and even his voice seemed to have changed its tone.
This surprising change was observed by others. Mr. Hammond, Jolin’s
advocate, told M. Durell, as he himself has recorded it, that when he saw
the prisoner on the twenty-third of September, he found him “in really a
distracted state, torn by every conflicting passion, and all his
faculties hurried by the unutterable anguish of remorse. The dread of
death was uppermost in his thoughts; and there was nothing to which he
would not have submitted to avoid capital punishment: but when he saw him
again on the evening of the twenty-sixth, he was astonished at the sudden
change which had taken place in him: he was calm, placid, and resigned,
and he had not one wish to live. I then,” continues Mr. Durell,
“mentioned to Mr. Hammond, that I had found him exactly in that state on
my first visit, the twenty-sixth, which had preceded his own only by a
few hours.” He adds, “the opinion of an impartial and enlightened man,
like Mr. Hammond, was certainly very important: but M. de Quetteville,
the mayor of the town, and other laymen of the highest respectability,
who had formerly known the prisoner, had been equally struck with that
great and salutary change. From a comparison of dates,” adds Mr. Durell,
“I am inclined to believe, that his change must not only have been rapid,
but that his heart must have been almost as instantaneously touched as
that of the penitent malefactor in the gospel.” Now how was this
wonderful change to be accounted for? We read in Acts xvi. 34, that when
the keeper of the prison in Philippi had received St. Paul’s message,
“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved;” that he
“took” the apostles “_the same hour of the night_, and washed their
stripes;” and was “baptized,” and rejoiced believing in God. It was
perhaps this very feeling of joy which Jolin now experienced; a joy which
arose from a clear, full, well-grounded belief in the doctrine of
justification by faith. This doctrine, which gives peace with God, is,
when rightly apprehended, attended with an experience of the love of God
shed abroad in the heart by the Holy Ghost, Rev. i. v., and this
necessarily brings joy with it. Thus, the man who has been taught to
look to him that justifieth the ungodly, is able to walk in the light of
God’s countenance, and is “filled with all joy and peace in believing.”
On the 25th, Jolin narrated to his visitor the whole history of his
melancholy life; his difficulties and discomforts, arising, not so much
from others, as from his own sinful, wilful heart. Like many other young
persons, he had chosen the way of dissipation and folly, instead of that
which many circumstances had led him to think was a happier and a safer
course. It is indeed true, that his parents were not in a state to check
him in his proceedings; but he seems to have had at many intervals those
convictions of conscience which were sufficient to have guarded him from
the transgressions into which he fell, and even to have guided him to
seek the paths of religion. His wretched education, however, came in aid
of his natural self-will, and soon confirmed him in those vices which led
to his ruin.
His state had been, as he himself described it, at times truly miserable;
but drinking had quickly expelled every conviction of his own guilt, and
he soon returned again to his mad career. He observed to Mr. Durell,
that since 1823, he had not seen one happy week.—There are two things to
observe on these transient convictions of guilt in a state of
unconversion. Until the Spirit of God has enlightened the heart, sin
does not by any means, in all cases, appear as it had appeared to Jolin,
and as it invariably does to the renewed heart, a grievous burden. The
life of many wretched sinners is one unbroken course of
self-satisfaction. They are described in the seventy-third Psalm, as
often passing from their cradles to their graves without a feeling of
sorrow, or an apprehension of death. The Bible, however, teaches, that
such a state of unmixed prosperity is the most dangerous in which a man
can be placed; that the sinner, when thus left alone of God, is lifted to
that very slippery pinnacle from which he will fall to his eternal ruin.
Ministers cannot, therefore, press upon their ungodly hearers the
universal conviction of the misery attending upon sin as an evidence of
their unconverted state, because sin does not in this life uniformly
bring along with it any such conviction. Their state of self-complacency
is, indeed, a state which comes as short of the real spiritual happiness
of the true Christian, as darkness does of light; but it often affords a
false peace, which perhaps does not leave the sinner till his punishment
begins, and the door of hope is shut against him for ever. Another
observation arising from Jolin’s feeling of wretchedness in his former
state, is, that the pain sometimes connected either with the practice of
sin, or a view of its consequences, will not, unassisted by the Spirit of
God, produce the real repentance which the Gospel requires. It is true,
the compunctions of conscience, like the afflictions of life, are means
often used to prepare the sinner for the doctrines of the Gospel. Yet,
in how many cases do we find men wounded, but not contrite; stunned, but
not really affected by the deepest distresses of life. Thus we learn,
that it is not any mere dispensation of Providence which necessarily
brings men to that knowledge and faith which are needful for salvation.
It is true, that God does bless the endeavours of the willing mind
whenever he sees them; but the mind is not necessarily made willing
because it suffers, any more than a child is necessarily made more
compliant by the punishment which is inflicted. Some substances harden
whilst others melt under the fire. Thus some souls are only confirmed in
sin by the events which are instrumental in recovering others from it.
For this he must be quickened by the power of God, he must have an
entirely different sense imparted to him from the mere feeling of the
misery of an evil course, or the afflictions of life; he must be
convinced of his own desperate state in the sight of God, and of the need
of that sacrifice which the Saviour has wrought out, before that good
work is really begun, which, it is promised, shall be carried on till the
day of Jesus Christ. So far, then, from the common notion, that the
sufferings of our life will atone for its offences, those sufferings have
no connexion whatever with our state hereafter, except as they may have
been a means of bringing us to seek that sacrifice by whom alone any of
our sins can be pardoned.
But to return to Jolin’s history. In the visit of the 25th, he was again
led to a consideration of the only sacrifice for man’s transgression,
particularly as it is exhibited in the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah. In
this portion of Scripture he learnt more exactly the cause for which
Jesus Christ came on the earth, and became a man of sorrows, and
acquainted with grief:—“Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our
sorrows.” “He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our
iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his
stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray: we have
turned everyone to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the
iniquity of us all.” Other passages of Scripture, connected with this
subject, and pointing out the love of God as the first cause of man’s
salvation, were also explained to him, as, Rom. v. 8, “While we were yet
sinners, Christ died for us.” And in connexion with this, Ephes. ii. 4,
5, “God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us
even when we were dead in sin, hath quickened us together with Christ.”
And, Rom. viii. 1, “There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ
Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.” The being in
Christ Jesus, and the nature of faith, by which alone he could apply the
merits and sufferings of the Saviour, were now, as they were continually,
dwelt upon.
The faith of the Gospel, he was more particularly taught, was such a
reception of the truths of Scripture, and more especially of the
engagement of God to pardon every sinner who came to him in Christ Jesus,
as led not only to an entire dependence upon Christ, but to a complete
submission to his will, and a consequent change in our own nature. It
was not merely a reception of the doctrine of faith, which was to be
regarded as faith in the soul, but the creation in the heart of a new and
animated feeling of trust in the Redeemer. The influence of faith in the
soul was like that of food to the body; it imparts a new feeling and
character; gives new nourishment and vigour, and works by love, not only
to the Saviour himself, but to all around us. Faith, therefore, to be a
living principle, must be felt by ourselves, and must be seen by others:
and of both these points the faith of this young man gave ample proof.
It gave confidence to his own mind, and even gladdened his heart; it made
the Bible a new book to him; it cheered the solitude of his prison; it
directed him to be mindful of every practical duty; it gave a new
direction to all his hopes and fears, and enabled him to go onwards in a
spirit of filial dependence to meet the last conflict. It was at this
time, I think, that he made a confession, which served to explain his
previous state of mind, and to show how remarkably his attention was
fixed on one point. “How extraordinary, sir,” said he, “it is, that for
these last two days I have been able to give my mind only to _one_
subject; the thought of my crime and of my death have been taken from me,
and I have scarcely been able to give my attention to either.” The one
subject which occupied all his attention, and shut out every other, was
the love of his Saviour, who had given himself for his sins. This, as he
said, “filled his heart.” His state of mind served to show the absorbing
nature of this Divine principle when it is fully implanted in the soul.
When the mind has suddenly gained a view of its former state of
alienation, and has been brought nigh again to God, it is impossible that
the sense of this vast change should not swallow up every other feeling.
It is difficult at all times to think much of God, and to think of any
thing else; but how much more, when the first conviction of the Divine
presence overwhelms the soul. And, as David, in the fifty-first Psalm,
appears to have comparatively lost sight of his sin against his country,
the family of Uriah, and of all the consequences of it, in the depth of
the feeling which he had of his sin against God; so the love of Christ
took possession of Jolin’s mind; and in its length, and breadth, and
depth, and height, so filled his thoughts, and so absorbed his soul, that
every other subject sank into nothing.
It will be manifest, that, in the explanation of all these subjects,
there was a constant repetition of points before explained, and reference
to many texts which are not noticed. Jolin did not talk much; and indeed
it was chiefly in answer to a question, that he made any observation at
all. When a passage of Scripture was read to him, he would often take
the Bible and read it over slowly to himself, then observe carefully
whether a paper to mark it was so placed, that he might find the place
again, and return the book with some slight expression of his feelings.
In this way did he seem to lay up portions of the Divine word, upon which
he might reflect in his solitary hours. His manner was always calm and
self-possessed; and his answers to questions were such as showed that he
clearly understood the grounds upon which the answer was to be made. He
was never beside the mark in a reply. But it was quite evident that all
the lessons which were taught him, and which had the warrant of
scriptural authority, sank into his heart, and that he found in them that
which corresponded with his own experience.