A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE AND CONVERSION OF ALEXANDER WHITE, Aet. 23. WHO WAS EXECUTED AT CAMBRIDGE, NOVEMBER 18, 1784, FOR THE MURDER OF A CAPTAIN WHITE, AT SEA. Containing extracts from his manuscripts, and some letters written by him a short time before his execution.
Printed and published, BY POWARS AND WILLIS, IN BOSTON.
The following is the account that ALEXANDER WHITE gave of himself to a person who visited him, a short time before his death.
THAT he was born in Ireland; had not been favoured with a religious education. —That he early gave himself up to a sea-faring life.—Had never been guilty of any vices but such as are common to sailors.—That he had enjoyed a good degree of reputation, and had been employed both as a mate and master of a vessel; in which stations he had conducted himself in such a manner, as to obtain the approbation of his employers.—That he had fallen in love with a young woman of some family and property (whose name he prudently chose to conceal) but that whenever he thought of his own poverty, he felt mortified. —That in his PRIDE, the horrid temptation that proved his disgrace and ruin, and that cost an innocent man his life, took rise.—That he had the promise of a mate's birth on board a vessel then gone to the West-Indies:—And that as her time of arrival was uncertain, he concluded to step on board the schooner in which he committed the murder, that he might pass away the time, and do some little matter for himself.—That when he was off Long-Island, and never before▪ did the temptation [Page 4] to kill the Captain and a passenger, seize him. He thought with himself that if he could kill those two men, who were all the people on board, himself excepted, and possess their property, he should be able to look the young woman and her friends in the face.—He was asked, Whether he was not shocked at the idea of murder?—No, replied he, I was as fixed and determined as it was possible to be, 'till I had done it.—How did you accomplish it? With a sigh and tears in his eyes he answered, I knocked him over board.— Did you kill him with the blow, or did he drown? I believe he drowned, said he.— —How did you feel when you had killed him? —My determination was, replied he, to kill the passenger, and then possess the vessel.— What prevented you putting your purpose into execution?—As soon as the passenger began to struggle with me, I found myself, said he, as feeble as a child, and he bound me with ease.—What were your feelings after you found yourself confined?—I feared, said he, that I should lose my life for it: but I formed a story that would have saved me, provided I had abode by it: which was this that the man who bound me was the murderer: and as there were but two of us on board who could say it was not so?—Why should the passenger's word be taken before mine?—How could a jury on the trial, determine which of us was guilty?
[Page 5]In this state of mind he was when he first arrived in Plymouth goal; as appears by the following extract of a letter written by the Rev. Mr. Robbins of Plymouth to the Rev. Mr. Stillman.—"With respect to White's state of mind when he first arrived here, he appeared to be extremely stupid; obstinately, and with great pertinacity denying the whole affair of the murder, with wicked and frequent appeals to heaven. I perceived no traces of knowledge, or the sense of the things of God and religion in him.—I verily think he was exceedingly ignorant, and which also accords with his account of his manner of education."
In this ignorant and stupid condition he confessed that he remained, 'till a certain person visited him, and put some plain and most important questions to him; which God was pleased so to impress on his mind, that he became alarmed with a sense of his sins in general, and the crime of murder in particular to such a degree, that he could no longer rest in his then present situation.
The following is the account of his views and exercises of mind, written by himself during his imprisonment, and transcribed from his manuscripts by the gentleman, whose name you will find at the end. These extracts contain the substance of the conversation which the person mentioned in the introduction, had with him in the goal at Cambridge.
An extract from Alexander White's papers, written by himself, while imprisoned in Plymouth goal, on a charge of Murder, Sept. 5, 1784. Taken from the originals, as follows.
"I Will proceed to assure you, that all that is set forth here, is the truth, and nothing but the truth, and what I have experienced of late.
"Some days after I came to Plymouth, there came a particular person to me, and enquired into the state of my soul, and whether I thought I was fit to depart this life or not. I answered, that I could not tell, but I hoped that I was, and if I was not, that God would prepare me for it, and in particular asked if I had passed the great change of conversion? I did not understand what the meaning of that was. But when I came to consider the words that our Savior had expressed to Nicodemus, John iii. chapter, 3d and 5th verses. "Verily, I say unto you, except a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God," these words pierced my very heart, and I could not get over it. I strove many times to banish those thoughts from troubling my mind, but it was all in vain; I could not help thinking of my danger of hell. It was almost as bitter as death to me to think that I was so near hell. But God opened my eyes to see there was no doubt [Page 7] that must be my reward, if I died in the state I was in. I made it my business to look over the law of God, and I found that it required perfect obedience upon pain of eternal damnation. This increased my misery, and caused me to wish I never had been born. I found my heart was hardened in sin, and I could not forsake it. Then I made it my study to search into my heart—but, alas, the more I saw of it, the more it encreased my misery. I found there was nothing in my heart but hypocrisy and deceitfulness. O! is this my heart! that I once thought was true to God and man!— I was affraid to look into it any further. I was affraid to trust in my heart. Oh how I felt! I have many times prayed to God to give me a new heart. But alas, I found that my prayers were all from a deceitful and from a bad heart. I often went to God with the Bible in my hand, and pointing my finger to the words where he promised to take away the stony heart, and give a heart of flesh, I begged that he would make his word good to me.— But what grieved me was, I could not be EARNEST in prayer to God. I was expecting every day, I should grow better. But alas, the longer I lived I grew the worse, and more hardened. It was remarked in Mr. Wilson's writings, that if I slighted the free offer of Christ, how Turks, Jews and Pagans would unbraid me forever. This wounded my very heart and soul, to think I should be on the [Page 8] same class with those folks. I found many times I was ready to start back to my old hope, and that I had as good die with a false hope, as to die in despair. O, I felt the heart of an infidel, and was affraid to look up to heaven, for fear that God should pour out his wrath, and consume me in a moment. For sometimes I thought that the law of God was too strict for any creature to abound in all things in it. It requires perfect obedience in all things. How can this be? I was born in sin, and must I be punished with everlasting damnation for that sin? Can this be right? But when I come to think, that the Son of God died to answer the demands of this law, I was greatly shocked and confounded. I thought it must be right, or not believe the scriptures. I seemed as if I was lost. I knew not what to do. It seemed to give me a little comfort to think that others had been in the same extremity, and got relief. Though I had but little thought that I should get any relief or deserved any. I found I was weak and feeble, in flesh and spirit. My thoughts was [were] always wandering. I knew not what to do. I really found myself on the brink of that dismal and dark pit of destruction, that there was nothing that was good in me, nor ever to be expected of me. But when I come to think of the words of our Saviour, that " he came to seek and to save that which was lost," but I feared I was not one of his flock. O [Page 9] this fear terrified my very heart and soul.— On a certain night as I lay on my bed, bewailing my miserable condition, I was ready to yield that all the laws of God was [were] right and just. But I found an inclination to quarrel with God for charging me with original sin, which I thought I was not guilty of. But I thought, that if all the law was right, that this must be also right. Oh how I felt, when I found I was condemned by the law of God, self-condemned, and my mouth stopped in all things, and I become guilty before an angry Judge. I seemed as if I was lost in a barren wilderness in a dark, stormy night, and had tried many paths, but could not find the right. I seemed helpless, heart broken, and condemned, seeing myself helpless, without the least spark of merit in all my life, I found, that necessity must cause me to yield myself into the hands of God, and wait for his pleasure. If he pleased to have mercy on me, that it was more than I deserved. I had not long yielded myself into the hands of God, when I had a glorious view of the excellency of the divine perfections of a most holy and merciful God. Next came in view the most glorious sweetness of Christ's person and his unspeakable love towards human souls. And the heavenly sweetness of the love my soul bore towards him and to all his perfections, that so overwhelmed the soul with the most perfect joy and pleasure imaginable, that I remained [Page 10] powerless for some time, in this glorious sweetness of soul, that so over come me with joy, that I stretched forth my arms to receive my Savior into my heart, and seemed as if the heavenly beams of glorious light shined upon my soul with such sweetness, that it is too much for me to attempt to mention. Next, came in view, a clear sense of the holiness and amiableness of the gospel, and all its perfections, and the infinite justice and glory that proceeded from it, in every degree. The divine perfection, holiness, justice and goodness of the divine law of God—it was impossible for my heart and soul to avoid loving it in every degree. O I thought, if I was condemned by it, I wished for all heaven and all the earth to praise and adore it forever and ever. If I am destroyed, it is just, by the law of God. When I come to see that Christ stood with open arms to receive the vilest and chiefest breakers of this holy law, Oh how it increased my love! The soul being strongly drawn to God and to Christ, and to the holiness of their perfections, that it seemed as if the soul would depart from the body and ascend into heaven. When I thought the object that I loved so much, died for my sake, O how it increased my love! And when I looked back to my former sinful life, and see how I had abused his free gift of grace, I mortally abhorred my proceedings, and reflected on my abominable spent life in misery and darkness of soul.
Further extracts from Alexander White's papers—written to a friend while in Plymouth goal.
"I will inform you of some of the most particular of my feelings, since I passed through those glorious tokens of the workings of Almighty Power in this deceitful heart, and this immortal soul.—I have mentioned to you the exercises of joys, when my soul was illuminated with that marvellous light which shined with the brightest beams imaginable in my heart; and which set the whole spirit and even body in a kind of heavenly transport, with the effects of that consolation, whilst I enjoyed that happiness of soul—which continued for several hours—and indeed for some days, but not to such a great degree. My tongue could not find expressions to glorify the great Worker of this excellent, precious and glorious work in such a wicked sinner. It seemed to me, as if I could scarcely wish to enjoy such a happiness, when I came to a reflection on my abominable spent life, and see the evil nature of sin, and the sovereign, great Being it is committed against. I cannot say that it was on account of the punishment that was threatened against it, so much but what grieved me was—seeing I had so much abused all the offers of the gospel, and slighted all the works of his divine power—and that I had been an enemy to him—hated him and all his ways. The devil can do no more than he has power [Page 12] to do, and I have done all that lay in my power; yea I exerted all my strength and power, with the greatest vigor against heaven, and did the greatest piece of service to satan, that lay in my power, and if I had more power, I should not have been backward to exert it. Which caused me to think, that it was almost too much for me to expect such a favour from my enemy, whom I have abused so much, and befriended his adversary. It caused me to think, that I had no right to any blessing, that he could bestow on such an unworthy member of satan's diabolical, rebellious, bloodthirsty train.—Oh, if Christ had not interceeded, could ever my eyes have looked to heaven for mercy, or ever expected any thing but the punishment that the wrath of God could issue against such an offender and breaker of his holy law!—
Whilst I enjoyed these heavenly blessings, I should have been rejoiced to see the messenger of God come, and say, Prepare for death! I should made answer, I was all ready to answer his demand.
Sometime after this, great fears entered my mind, knowing the deceitfulness of my heart. I found a great darkness of mind and oppression of spirits, which caused great thoughts of unbelief to rise from my wicked heart, and caused a great many sinful thoughts in my mind. Sometimes I would reflect on myself for having any doubt of the works of God, [Page 13] which I found so clearly performed in my soul. But all this would not satisfy my disconsolate mind, in any respect. All this discontentment seemed different from what I had experienced before. For now, I enjoyed strong hope in Jesus Christ, and I am convinced now that he is both able and willing to save the chiefest of sinners, if they are willing to be saved and to accept of him as a Savior. Those thoughts caused me to be more attentive to prayer than I ever had been before. And after continuing sometime in this sad condition, I found that God gave me a more clear view of his excellency, in a great many things than I ever had before. And confirmed the truth of all his supreme power, and the freeness of his divine grace and mercy towards rebellious sinners—which gave me a full assurance that he had bestowed his blessing on me, without any manner of doubt—which caused great consolation in my soul, and spiritually strengthened me, and increased my love towards Jesus Christ and all his perfections, when I had seen his kindness towards me, who had been such a faithful servant of the devil and such an enemy to God and all his holy laws. —Job was a man of great patience. But what was that when compared to the patience of God? For had he not unspeakable patience, would he not consume us in our wickedness, and destroy us without mercy! Would he not pour out his wrath and sink us into eternal [Page 14] damnation and unredeemable misery?—But blessed be his holy name, he waits with patience, while we are running our race of wickedness, and then he convinces us of his ability to save—and of our own inability. He shows us that we are helpless and hopeless, and unless he interposes, we are miserable and undone forever.—Oftentimes it has caused me to wonder how presumptuous sinners dare have the assurance to affront and abuse him before his eyes, who seeth all things and knoweth the secrets of all hearts. How can we expect to escape his righteous judgment—and if not found in Christ, his eternal punishment hereafter.—If any sinner is doubtful of the ability and power of God, and of his obligation to him, how just and right would it be for him to show his ability, and make him know his power by punishing of him. Our thoughts will be but a poor excuse before God at that great day that is a coming.
Another extract—written to a christian friend, who had been very conversant with him, and acquainted with the religious exercises of his mind, dated in Plymouth prison.
"Dear friend, you will excuse my short answer to your last, it was for want of opportunity. Last evening I was greatly distressed for some time. But when I came to reflect, I found that it was not amiss to be humbled to the lowest degree imaginable, that it was no [Page 15] more than my duty, even to lay myself down in the streets to be trod upon, even by the brutes of the earth. Oh wretched creature that I am, how can I think to face God Almighty, after abusing his holy law as I have done. O what an amazing thing it is to think of the mercy and patience of such a mighty power! O why does he not sink the world in a moment! Why does he not destroy ME without mercy! Can I presume to think that Christ will ever be reconciled with such an unthanful one as me. I am very sorry that such a thankless object as I am, should be any trouble to me. But I hope that God will comfort you.
Extract, &c. to his christian friend, wrote while in Plymouth goal.
"There is nothing gives me more pleasure them to rejoice in Christ Jesus, in your agreeable company; but since the weather [stormy] does not permit you to come—must submit to God's will. I have spent this day in great pleasure rejoicing in the mighty works and glory of the most great and glorious God and Saviour, and I hope you enjoy the same happiness. Although we are at a distance, I hope our hearts are joined together in Christ, where it is impossible that rain or wind should break [Page 16] the union. I have cause to reflect on myself for not being humble and thankful to God for his mercy.
Extract of another letter, &c. written in Cambridge goal, just after his trial and condemnation, to a friend in Plymouth, viz.
"The bearer can give you an account of all that passed in the Court. But blessed be God he enabled me to declare the truth, and to prefer it before life; knowing that he that saves his life shall lose it. Thank God I enjoy the presence of Christ▪ although in this situation, of being condemned to die by the law of man. Send the inclosed to the congregation the first sabbath after you receive it. Let all my christian friends know, that I don't forget them, and beg their prayers, alongst with yours, and praise God for his great name's sake.—No more at present, but hope to meet you in glory, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Copy of Alexander White's letter to the Rev. C. Robbins—written a day or 2 before his execution—viz.
"My trembling hand I set to paper, to set forth the sentiments of my heart, and to point out where the ground of my hope lies. My hope is fixed on that rock that is in Zion, the sure foundation that God has laid, for the redemption of sinners.—Blessed be God my mountain stands strong, and the thoughts of death cannot remove it, nor nothing can be a terror to me.—But—O the thoughts of my dear Redeemer!—Dear Sir, excuse the shortness of my observations to you.—I am under great obligation to you for the favour of your letter. It is now growing dark, and opportunity will not permit me to say any more, so I remain your dying friend.
Extract of another letter, wrote by A. White, to a person who had greatly befriended his spiritual interest, while in Plymouth goal.
"You request me, in your last letter, to send you a particular account of the workings of my heart since I have condemned myself, by making an open confession of my abominable sin [Page 18] which I have committed against God and my own soul. I do not reflect on my conduct (in confessing the crime) blessed be God that my hope is grounded on the sure foundation that is laid in Zion. My anchor is within the veil, and 'tis utterly impossible for it to be removed by the hands of man, or the ingenuity of devils—Nothing can remove my hope. Altho' the time draws near and death approaches me, God also draws near, and stifles the pangs of death and gives me an over coming triumph over the grave. Blessed be God, I have the privilege of going to meeting, and have the advice of sundry faithful ministers of the gospel. And blessed be God that I am very well supplied with the necessaries of life.—I have not time nor opportunity to write to all my friends with you, now—the time draws near that I am to be no more—yet what remains of my heart that is not engaged with God, I leave with them, and I hope they have but a small share.
"My dear friend, there are two malefactors along with me, who are under sentence of death —and when this comes to hand I, with their consent, would solicit you for your prayers in their behalf.—My feeble hand, bound with cold iron will not allow me to write so long a letter as I would wish. So I conclude, and remain your dying friend,
☞ BY the preceding papers the reader is informed what the state of White's mind was when he was first imprisoned at Plymouth, viz. ignorant of God and religion:—The means that God made use of to awaken his attention to his eternal interest, viz. The conversation of a person who visited him from a tender concern for his salvation.—The view he had of his sinful condition, which reduced him for many days nearly to a state of despair—The manner in which he was delivered from his fears of deserved wrath, viz. By a manifestation of the divine glory, and of the grace of the gospel to the chief of sinners, through Jesus Christ; which was followed with the warmest expressions of love [Page 20] to God, to Christ and the divine law. To which may be added, That his tempers and life ever after his professed acquaintance with religion, were such as became the gospel. For the truth of which an appeal may safely be made to all who knew him in his confinement both at Plymouth and Cambridge.
The Honourable the Court, before whom he was arraigned know with what humility and frankness he behaved on his trial. At once confessing his horrid crime, and refusing to have any one to plead for him; saying, That he was the murderer, that he deserved to die, and was willing to die. And though brought forth the second day before the Court [Page 21] he declared his guilt as before, and condemned himself, because, said he, I dare not tell a lie to save my life, knowing that I should thereby offend God.
He maintained a surprising tranquility of mind to the last minute, and took his leave of the Reverend Gentleman who kindly attended him to the place of execution, with a countenance that bespoke his inward peace in Christ Jesus.
Upon the whole, though unspeakably horrid was his crime, may he not charitably be viewed as a brand plucked out of the burning? or as a monument of free and sovereign grace? Let that God be magnified, who is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and plenteous in pardon!
[Page 22]N. B. That the authenticity of the preceding Narrative may not be doubted, the Printers have permission to insert the following paragraph of a letter, written by the Rev. Gentleman who transcribed it from White's papers, to his friend in this town.
"I have faithfully transcribed what I send you, from the originals, written with his own hand—I have not in any instance, made the least alteration in a single sentiment. The only liberty I have taken is, to rectify words that were spelt wrong, or a sentence that was not expressed quite grammatically; though even here I have not always been very [Page 23] careful, as I chose, if published, it should go in its proper dress."