À VISIT TO A CONVICT HULK.

THERE are many who have seen, perhaps, a criminal at the bar of justice convicted of the crime alleged against him, and sentenced to a period of transportation; or who, having read of trials and convictions, may be curious to know something of the lot which befalls those unhappy men, who, when sentence has been pronounced against them, are removed from the eye of the world.

Some time usually elapses between the conviction and final act of transportation to a penal settlement; this is spent partly at some model prison, such as Pentonville, or some similar establishment, and partly on board the hulks,—a visit to one of which gave us an opportunity of learning much on a subject of no small interest. For who are these criminals, thus separated from all social intercourse with the rest of the world, and branded with the mark of infamy, but fellow men,-some of them, it may be, once known to us, or from our neighbourhood,—all at any rate objects of sorrowful interest when viewed as degraded members of society, but awakening thoughts still deeper and sadder when regarded as fallen brothers of the Christian family.

It was not without something of awe that I ascended the side of one of those gloomy and dismal looking prison-ships that lie side by side in Portsmouth Harbour, telling so mournful a tale of man's captivity to sin. In their very appearance, their heavy moorings, monotonous position,-never changing with the ebb or flow of the tide, but always presenting the same dull, sullen aspect, -they are very types in themselves of the dark and hardened indifference of the sin-steeped heart.

Far differently were they freighted once. These ships are old men-of-war of a very large class, which have served their country in their day in a nobler service, and have borne the meteor flag' of England ''mid the battle and the breeze;' but now stripped of their rigging, guns, and every warlike equipment, they are fitted with the furniture of the prison. The two lower decks, which are appropriated to the convicts, are partitioned off into iron cages, each containing from twenty to thirty men; in the gangways between these guards are continually pacing, maintaining order, and keeping careful watch and ward. Inside these cages the men sleep in hammocks suspended from the ceiling, which during the day are removed. A further classification takes place during meal times, when the men are divided into messes of eight, each mess taking its food at a separate table. Their meals are cooked and distributed by those convicts who, by their good behaviour, have earned this privilege of comparative freedom and honourable occupation.

By day the men are taken out in parties to work either in the dockyard or ramparts, where they may be seen yoked like beasts, toiling in their harness, slowly dragging their lumbering carts, and attended by a warder and guard of soldiers. An escape is not often attempted.

During sickness, which is very prevalent, owing doubtless to their former depraved habits and close confinement, they are well cared for in a hospital ship; but the mortality among them is large, as might be expected. And this leads to the consideration of their moral and religious state, and the opportunities given them for being reconciled with that GOD they have so deeply sinned against. Education is not forgotten; there is an efficient staff of schoolmasters at work upon the intellects of the men, who are regularly instructed in class, and among whom, doubtless, many apt pupils are discovered, whose faculties are sharpened by that peculiar quickness, which is stimulated by previous habits of dishonesty.

Besides this reformatory engine of education, a Chaplain has the spiritual oversight of about one thousand convicts, whose duties, according to the regulations, mainly consist in saying prayer daily, with occasional addresses, but who is also enabled to see privately any convict who may express his wish to consult the Chaplain, by entering his name in a book kept for that purpose the day previously. So far it is well; but the great, the crying evil of their religious position is, the total absence of all classification. The novice and the hardened in crime, the penitent and the impenitent, the broken-hearted and the bold blasphemer,-all are mingled together; the evil and the good in close contact and unavoidable companionship. Dark tales of horror and crime are narrated by foul lips, and eagerly drunk in by those whom perhaps one only offence seduced into sin. New crimes are conceived, and the tradition of successful enterprises in sin handed down to younger aspirants to a felon's notoriety; and thus crime breeds crime even in the very stronghold where offended justice is avenging her broken laws.

And yet there are some in whom conscience is not stifled, nor grace entirely dead; who have moments of compunction and sorrow; whose hearts would fain fly from such a polluted company, and seek to breathe a purer air. But where can such go? where can they on bended knee pour out, unseen by men, the confession of their sins, with tears and groanings in the presence of GOD alone? They have no refuge from the oath, the blasphemous and obscene tongue; a flood of ribaldry and scorn would drown any attempts at prayer. How little, then, of spiritual improvement can be expected here! What can a Chaplain's care effect sufficient to counteract such contaminating influences? Truly, GOD alone is sufficient for these things, and to His merciful care

for His fallen children must alone be the praise given, that notwithstanding all drawbacks, some penitents are reconciled and blessed, and some souls rescued from the tempter's power.

But in truth it must be said that no provision is made for penitent convicts, because repentance in its full sense is not considered in the penal system. Felons are confined in the hulks as a punishment, and subject to strict watch and irksome bondage; and as part repayment to the country for their expenses, they are made to undergo, in some cases, severe labour, but this done, the round of discipline is completed.. True, a convict is taught better things than he may have had an opportunity of acquiring before; but though some efforts are made to lead him into righteous paths, no opportunity is given him for walking in them, no drawbacks to holiness are removed, and no endeavour made to mitigate the terrorism of his degraded fellows.

The similarity of food and treatment, and the continual interchange of the same ideas, seems to stamp their countenances with a peculiar expression,-a detestable family likeness; they have mostly the same pale faces, and scowling brows, and sullen aspect. The once happy and intelligent face is soon reduced to the same low level of indifference and cunning which are the predominating characteristics of the class.

Wretched as their lot is, it is but seldom that desperate attempts are made to escape, although they have much intercourse with the shore, where they meet confederates, by whom they are clandestinely supplied with tobacco, and other forbidden luxuries. A newspaper, too, at times is discovered among them; and on one occasion, when a convict was condemned to death for the murder of a warden who interposed when he was endeavouring to escape, on the morning of his execution at Winchester, although all communication with the shore had been for some time strictly prohibited, the convicts belonging to the murderer's hulk, informed of their comrade's fate, appeared each with a piece of crape tied round his arm! Such concert among them shows the necessity for the strictest vigilance, to prevent an outbreak; and severe corporal punishment is sometimes found necessary, to repress ebullitions of insubordination.

Such, then, is a brief account of the convicts' position when confined in a hulk. A better system, it is believed, prevails in other penal establishments; and a large prison on Dartmoor, occupied during the last war by the French prisoners, has lately been fitted up with more regard to their permanent well-being. Yet the hulks still remain; their wretched inmates are still subject to the same contamination; and if the Church be hindered at present from bringing more powerful influences of good to bear upon her unhappy, degraded children, we at least individually can do our

parts, by remembering at the throne of grace the souls of these our brother Christians, and by including them in our supplications, when in the Litany we pray our heavenly FATHER to show His "pity upon all prisoners and captives."

R. J. H.

THE CHRISTIAN WARRIOR'S PRAYER.

BY RICHARD TOMLINS, M.A.

"We receive this child into the congregation of CHRIST's flock, and do sign him with the sign of the Cross, in token that hereafter he shall not be ashamed to confess the faith of CHRIST Crucified, and manfully to fight under His banner against sin, the world, and the devil; and to continue CHRIST's faithful soldier and servant unto his life's end. Amen."-Baptismal Service.

O MAY I, on the world's dark face,
That strait and narrow pathway trace,
Mark'd out by tears, and tears of gore,
Plough'd by the Cross my SAVIOUR bore;
Nor faintly pause, nor idly view,

But bear my cross, and follow too.

May every blast of misery,

That sweeps along this world's dark sky,

But spread the fuller to my sight

The banner under which I fight:

That I a faithful soldier be,

And live to Him Who died for me.

My only peace, to war within,

Against the devil, world, and sin :

My only triumph, to lay down

To Him Who won for me my crown:-
My only life, life's close to see,

And die to Him Who lives for me.*

SELFISHNESS; OR, SEED TIME AND HARVEST.

CHAPTER VII.

"PERSUADE papa to buy Colonel Strutford's pony, Sturdy." "Me, sir! and how ever am I to persuade him, sir?”

Sturdy cultivated the habit of introducing sir' at the end of every dozen words, because, in his experience, he had found it covered many delinquencies.

"You know how to persuade him; just tell him all about the pony, he fancies I don't understand horses. I should think you

*These verses were printed for private circulation in 1844.

such a nice fellow, Sturdy, if you would only just take the trouble to do this."

“What ever can make him fancy you don't understand horses ?" "I don't know, but I believe he does fancy so. Now, that pony is just the thing for me; it is such a capital pony. That old creature of Mrs. Brown's, that mamma has been talking about, won't suit me at all,-nasty, stupid, little beast; it goes at the rate of about five miles an hour. I must have Colonel Strutford's pony. When do you think you shall be able to talk to papa about it? because I would rather have it directly."

"My mistress told me to see about Mrs. Brown's." "I shan't and won't have it; I hate Mrs. Brown's pony. You may ride it, if you like; I shan't. Mamma likes it because it is cheap,-cheap and stupid, that's what it is. I heard her say it was not worth while to give much for a pony, because I should not be at home long. Now, I don't believe papa cares what he gives!"

"Well, sir, I'll just bring the colonel's pony round to the door, for master to see; but he must take his own pleasure about buying it that is just as he may be pleased to determine upon," said Sturdy, reckoning the pony his own.

It was a light, well-formed animal, about thirteen hands high. Sturdy made some few, quiet, suggestive remarks, as to its good points. Mr. Sydenham admired it very much, but feared it was rather too fresh for a child.

"Too fresh, sir! how-"

66

'Why does Colonel Strutford want to sell him? I want to know that."

"O, because he can't ride at all; he is grown so old and so cowardly, it's quite ridiculous! I see him looking out for the stones-doesn't he look out for the stones, Sturdy?"

"O yes, I've seen him many a time. I think, sir, please sir, the old gentleman is grown very timorous, and since he had that last attack, sir, he has not been able to ride scarce at all, sir, please, sir."

Sturdy put a straight finger to the brim of his hat, in delivering this piece of information, and proceeded,-" This pony is as quiet as a dog. If they are worth anything at all, they will be a leetle fresh at times, 'specially when they have been lying by in the stable, as I have known this one to have done."

"And you see, papa, I shall not allow him to lie by in the stable; I mean to ride him every day, and if I cannot, Sturdy will, won't you, Sturdy?"

Sturdy was standing before the pony's head, and contemplating his master's countenance out of the corner of his eye, and made no reply.

To Cecil's infinite delight, the black pony was purchased. En