An account of the Death of Philip Jolin.

by Francis Cunningham.

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 circ.u.mstances, 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 ill.u.s.trated 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 a.s.sistance 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d, 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 pa.s.sed 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, p.r.o.nounced 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 Sat.u.r.day, 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 circ.u.mstance 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 cla.s.ses, 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d." Under such circ.u.mstances, 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 G.o.d! 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 G.o.d'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 sh.o.r.e, 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 G.o.d 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 compa.s.sion of his fellow-creatures.

It is true, there were particular circ.u.mstances 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 circ.u.mstances 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d. 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 G.o.d p.r.o.nounced; and that this condemnation had pa.s.sed 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d, (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 G.o.d. 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 G.o.d 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 circ.u.mstances, 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 circ.u.mstance 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 G.o.d 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 circ.u.mstances, 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 G.o.d.

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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.sages 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.sages 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 pa.s.sages 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 bra.s.s, 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 G.o.d, 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 pa.s.sage 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 ill.u.s.tration 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 G.o.d-for it is the broken and the contrite heart which G.o.d 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 pa.s.sages 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d, every doctrine of the Gospel presents difficulties; one point is unreasonable, another impossible, a third useless; but when the mind is taught of G.o.d, 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 pa.s.sages 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d." "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 G.o.d;" 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 G.o.d, 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 ill.u.s.tration 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 G.o.d, 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 ill.u.s.trated 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 G.o.d; that any circ.u.mstance 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 a.s.surance 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 a.s.surance in his mind was an acceptance of the simple testimony of G.o.d, 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 G.o.d in this instance characterized his religious experience during the whole of his remaining course. The Scriptures were as a message of G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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 circ.u.mstances. 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 a.s.sumed.

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 pa.s.sion, 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 G.o.d. 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 G.o.d, is, when rightly apprehended, attended with an experience of the love of G.o.d 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 unG.o.dly, is able to walk in the light of G.o.d'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 circ.u.mstances 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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.sing 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 G.o.d, is lifted to that very slippery pinnacle from which he will fall to his eternal ruin.

Ministers cannot, therefore, press upon their unG.o.dly 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, una.s.sisted by the Spirit of G.o.d, 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d, 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 chastis.e.m.e.nt 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 pa.s.sages of Scripture, connected with this subject, and pointing out the love of G.o.d 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, "G.o.d, 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d; 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 repet.i.tion 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 pa.s.sage 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.

The next day, the 26th, he was visited by Mr. Dallas, one of the chaplains of the Bishop of Winchester, and by Mr. Durell, the rector of St. Saviour's parish. These two clergymen have each given public and repeated testimony to the state of mind in which they found Jolin. The visit of Mr. Dallas was chiefly occupied in an endeavour to search out the reality of the foundation upon which the hope of the penitent rested, and he viewed it as most satisfactory. Mr. Durell visited Jolin at the request of the Dean of Jersey, in whose parish the prison is situated.

Mr. Durell says in his little work, "I came to perform a difficult and unpleasant duty, which, indeed, I could not refuse. I mention this indifference," he adds, "to show, that when I first repaired to this poor man's dungeon, there must have been something very powerful to have affected me to such a degree." He at first brought Dodd's Prison Thoughts with him to read to Jolin; but, on the suggestion of a friend, he changed this book for the Bible. Mr. Durell visited Jolin many times: and he has published an account of each visit. His remarks are candid, kind, and very clear as to his belief of the real change of Jolin's character. The facts which he narrates are some of them in the highest degree interesting. "I have sympathised," he says, "in Jolin's cell, in all the horrors of his situation. I have shuddered at his nefarious parricide; I have rejoiced in his unfeigned repentance; and I have been soothed by his delightful antic.i.p.ations of a blessed immortality." He adds, on one occasion, "I never saw a man more free from enthusiasm. All his religion centred in the atonement of Christ." On another, "I never heard him complain of the evidence against him, nor of his sentence; never did an expression of murmur or of invective escape from him." He says again, "This visit lasted three hours; than which none ever made a deeper impression on me, or will perhaps be more conducive to my own spiritual improvement." He adds again, "It may, perhaps, be supposed, that it was the dread of death which had excited his religious fervour; on the contrary, those apprehensions ceased from the moment that holy principle originated in his heart: neither was it that instinctive fear of dying that drove him into religious inquiries and self-examination.

That fear may, indeed, have caused a wicked man to be sorry for his sin; but the growth in knowledge, in grace, and in so many gifts of the Spirit, was so extraordinary and so unprecedented, that I cannot account for it as having been the result of natural causes operating on an ardent and distracted mind. I am not only impartial, but am conscious that I am as free from superst.i.tion and enthusiasm as any man; yet I feel inwardly convinced, that Jolin's conversation had something in it more than human; and that Providence a.s.sisted him with an imperceptible, though equally miraculous, working of the Holy Spirit; to the end that his edifying repentance might operate like a distinguished example to open the bosom of many an infidel to an examination of the sacred truths of Christianity, and to persuade the thoughtless and profligate, that, unless they abandon their dangerous course, they will be doomed to certain destruction."

But it may be interesting to lay before your readers the last communication of this kind friend, when Jolin was about to be executed.

It was in a letter to one of the ministers then with him in the prison.

St. Saviour's, Oct. 3, 1829, 9 o'clock in the morning.

"Sir,-The deep, the Christian interest, which I feel for our departing brother, induces me to write you a short note. Tell him that I pray that the strength which is imparted from on high may not fail him in his last hour, and that the sufferings of the Saviour may inspire him with religious courage to bear his sufferings. Tell him also, that since we are not to meet again on earth, he departs with my blessing and my prayers; and that, I trust, we shall meet again where every tear shall be dried from every eye. The sixteenth chapter of St. John is most particularly adapted to his awful situation. The thirty-third verse is a glorious precept and example for him: 'These things have I spoken to you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but, be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.'

"I am, sir, yours truly, "E. DURELL."

On the last Sunday of his life, Jolin had many visitors. His mind seemed gradually to ripen for eternity. He gained every day clearer views of his sinful nature, of the power of Divine grace, of the nature of faith, of the immensity of the love of Christ, and of the offer of a free salvation made to himself. He could now trace very distinctly, in the various events of his life, the manifestations of the great mercy of G.o.d in his favour. The returning prodigal (Luke xv.) he felt more and more to represent himself and his own case. He saw his heavenly Father waiting to be gracious to him. He had scarcely time to offer up his supplications, when he found, that before he called, G.o.d had answered, and while he was yet speaking, He had heard. There was one circ.u.mstance connected with the visit of this day which is, in itself, striking. The last trial was to take place on the morrow. He had, under the direction of his legal adviser, prepared a paper, which was to be read to the jury.

There was still, therefore, a possibility of his escape from the punishment of death. This latter circ.u.mstance became a subject of conversation, and an earnest hope was expressed on the part of his visitor, that, if he was set at liberty, he would be supported by Divine grace, and that he would be enabled to live to the glory of G.o.d. His answer to this observation clearly showed how well he understood the power of the grace of G.o.d, and how entirely his heart was stayed upon that as his only support in every emergency of his life, whether he were to escape from prison, or be led to the scaffold. He observed, "Sir, the man that is fit to _die_, is fit to _live_. I have known what it is to have a heart as hard as a diamond; but I now feel I have a heart of flesh." His persuasion was thus very clearly expressed, that the same power which had changed his heart from stone to flesh, could and would keep him on his way; and that, depending upon Divine grace, he need not fear whether life or death were presented to him. In this calm and confiding posture of mind, he seemed continually to rest. All his hope and trust were grounded on his Saviour. He had come to the full experience of the psalmist-"It is good for me to draw near to G.o.d."

A hymn of Cowper's, which had been given to him, seemed very much to have arrested his attention this day. It is on the subject of the fountain opened for sin, and for uncleanness. (Zech. xiii. 1.)