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.
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 anticipations 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 superstition and enthusiasm as any man; yet I feel inwardly convinced, that Jolin’s conversation had something in it more than human; and that Providence assisted 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 God 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, God had answered, and while he was yet speaking, He had heard. There was one circumstance 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 circumstance 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 God. His answer to this observation clearly showed how well he understood the power of the grace of God, 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 God.”
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.)
“There is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
And there have I, though vile as he,
Wash’d all my sins away.E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.Then, in a nobler, sweeter song,
I’ll sing thy power to save,
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave.Lord, I believe thou hast prepared
(Unworthy though I be)
For me a blood-bought free reward,
A golden harp for me.’Tis strung and tuned for endless years,
And formed by power divine,
To sound in God the Father’s ears,
No other name but thine.”