y the fears of death by a settled faith and hope in Jesus
Christ. When he had a while reflected on the promises made in Scripture
on the nature of repentance itself, and the relation there is between
creatures and their Creator, he became at last better satisfied, and
bore the approach of death with tolerable cheerfulness.

When the day of execution came, he received the Sacrament, as is usual
for persons in his condition. He declared, then, that he heartily
forgave him who had injured him, and particularly the person who, by
giving him hopes of life, had endangered his eternal safety. He
submitted cheerfully to the decrees of Providence and the Law of the
land; being at the time he suffered about thirty-seven years of age.

Richard Scurrier was the son of a blacksmith of the same name, at
Kingston-upon-Thames. He followed for a time his father's business, but
growing totally weary of working honestly for his bread, he left his
relations, and without any just motive or expectation came up to London.
He here betook himself to driving a hackney-coach, which, as he himself
acknowledged, was the first inlet into all his misfortunes, for thereby
he got into loose and extravagant company, living in a continued series
of vice, unenlightened by the grace of God, or any intervals of a
virtuous practice.

Such a road of wickedness soon induced him to take illegal methods for
money to support it. The papers which I have in my hands concerning him,
do not say whether the fact he committed was done at the persuasion of
others, or merely out of his own wicked inclinations; nay, I cannot be
so much as positive whether he had any associates or no; but in the
beginning of his thievish practices, he committed _petit_ larceny, which
was immediately discovered. He thereupon was apprehended and committed
to Newgate. At the next sessions he was tried, and the fact being plain,
he was convicted; but being very young, the Court, through its usual
tenderness, determined to soften his punishment into a private
whipping. But before that was done, he joined with some other desperate
fellows, forced the outward door of the prison as the keeper was going
in and escaped.

He was no sooner at liberty but he fell to his old trade, and was just
as unlucky as he was before; for taking it into his head to rub off with
a firkin of butter, which he saw standing in a cheesemonger's shop, he
was again taken in the fact, and in the space of a few weeks reco