angry!
_W.A._ What! will my wicked life hinder you from believing in God! Whata dreadful creature am I! And what a sad truth is it, that the horridlives of Christians hinder the conversion of heathens!
_Wife._ Now me tink you have great much God up there, (_she points up toheaven_) and yet no do well, no do good ting? Can he tell? Sure he notell what you do.
_W.A._ Yes, yes, he knows and seen all things; he hears us speak, seeswhat we do, knows what we think, though we do not speak.
_Wife_ What! he no hear you swear, curse, speak the great damn?
_W.A._ Yes, yes, he hears it all.
_Wife._ Where be then the muchee great power strong?
_W.A._ He is merciful; that is all we can say for it; and this proveshim to be the true God: he is God, and not man; and therefore we arenot consumed.
[Here Will Atkins told us he was struck with horror to think how he could tell his wife so clearly that God sees, and hears, and knows the secret thoughts of the heart, and all that we do; and yet that he had dared to do all the vile things he had done.]
_Wife._ Merciful! what you call dat?
_W.A._ He is our father and maker; and he pities and spares us.
_Wife._ So then he never makee kill, never angry when you do wicked;then he no good himself, or no great able.
_W.A._ Yes, yes, my dear; he is infinitely good, and infinitely great,and able to punish too; and some times, to shew his justice andvengeance, he lets fly his anger to destroy sinners and make examples;many are cut off in their sins.
_Wife._ But no makee kill you yet; then he tell you, may be, that he nomakee you kill, so you make de bargain with him, you do bad ting, he nobe angry at you, when he be angry at other mans?
_W.A._ No, indeed, my sins are all presumptions upon his goodness; andhe would be infinitely just if he destroyed me as he has done other men.
_Wife._ Well, and yet no kill, no makee you dead! What you say to himfor that? You no tell him tankee for all that too!
_W.A._ I am an unthankful, ungrateful dog, that is true.
_Wife._ Why he no makee you much good better? You say he makee you.
_W.A._. He made me as he made all the world; 'tis I have deformedmyself, and abused his goodness, and have made myself anabominable wretch.
_Wife._ I wish you makee God know me; I no makee him angry; I no do badwicked ting.
[Here Will Atkins said his heart sunk within him, to hear a poor, untaught creature desire to be taught to know God, and he such a wicked wretch that he could not say one word to her about God, but what the reproach of his own carriage would make most irrational to her to believe; nay, that already she could not believe in God, because he that was so wicked was not destroyed.]
_W.A._ My dear, you mean you wish I could teach you to know God, not Godto know you, for he knows you already, and every thought in your heart.
_Wife._ Why then he know what I say to you now; he know me wish to knowhim; how shall me know who makee me?
_W.A._ Poor creature, he must teach thee, I cannot teach thee; I'll prayto him to teach thee to know him; and to forgive me that I am unworthyto teach thee.
[The poor fellow was in such an agony at her desiring him to make her know God, and her wishing to know him, that he said he fell down on his knees before her, and prayed to God to enlighten her mind with the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, and to pardon his sins, and accept of his being the unworthy instrument of instructing her in the principles of religion; after which he sat down by her again, and their dialogue went on.]
N.B. This was the time when we saw him kneel down and lift up his hands.
_Wife._ What you put down the knee for? What you hold up the hand for?What you say? Who you speak to? What is that?
_W.A._ My dear, I bow my knees in token of my submission to Him thatmade me: I said O to him, as you call it, and as you say your old men doto their idol Benamuckee; that is, I prayed to him.
_Wife._ What you say O to him for?
_W.A._ I prayed to him to open your eyes and your understanding, thatyou may know him, and be accepted by him.
_Wife._ Can he do that too?
_W.A._ Yes, he can; he can do all things.
_Wife._ But he no hear what you say?
_W.A._ Yes, he has bid us pray to him; and promised to hear us.
_Wife._ Bid you pray? When he bid you? How he bid you? What you hear himspeak?
_W.A._ No, we do not hear him speak; but he has revealed himself manyways to us.
[Here he was at a great loss to make her understand that God had revealed himself to us by his word; and what his word was; but at last he told it her thus:]
_W.A._ God has spoken to some good men in former days, even from heaven,by plain words; and God has inspired good men by his Spirit; and theyhave written all his laws down in a book.
_Wife._ Me no understand that: where is book?
_W.A._. Alas! my poor creature, I have not this book; but I hope Ishall, one time or other, get it for you to read it.
[Here he embraced her with great affection; but with inexpressible grief, that he had not a Bible.]
_Wife._ But how you makee me know that God teachee them to write thatbook?
_W.A._ By the same rule that we know him to be God.
_Wife._ What rule? what way you know?
_W.A._ Because he teaches and commands nothing but what is good,righteous, and holy, and tends to make us perfectly good, as well asperfectly happy; and because he forbids, and commands us to avoid, allthat is wicked, that is evil in itself, or evil in its consequences.
_Wife._ That me would understand, that me fain see; if he reward allgood thing, punish all wicked thing, he teachee all good thing, forbidall wicked thing, he makee all thing, he give all thing; he hear me whenI say O to him, as you go to do just now; he makee me good if I wish begood; he spare me, no makee kill me when I no be good; all this you sayhe do: yes, he be great God; me take, think, believe him be great God;me say O to him too with you, my dear.
Here the poor man said he could forbear no longer; but, raising her up,made her kneel by him; and he prayed to God aloud to instruct her in theknowledge of himself by his Spirit; and that by some good providence, ifpossible, she might some time or other come to have a Bible, that shemight read the word of God, and be taught by him to know him.
[This was the time that we saw him lift her up by the hand, and saw him kneel down by her, as above.]
They had several other discourses, it seems, after this, too long toset down here; and particularly she made him promise, that, since heconfessed his own life had been a wicked, abominable course ofprovocation against God, he would reform it, and not make God angry anymore, lest he should make him dead, as she called it, and then sheshould be left alone, and never be taught to know this God better; andlest he should be miserable, as he told her wicked men should beafter death.
This was a strange account, and very affecting to us both, butparticularly the young clergyman; he was indeed wonderfully surprisedwith it; but under the greatest affliction imaginable that he could nottalk to her; that he could not speak English to make her understand him;and as she spoke but very broken English he could not understand her.However, he turned himself to me, and told me, that he believed theremust be more to do with this woman than to marry her. I did notunderstand him at first, but at length he explained himself, viz. thatshe ought to be baptized.
I agreed with him in that part readily, and was for going about itpresently: "No, no; hold, Sir," said he; "though I would have herbaptized by all means, yet I must observe, that Will Atkins, herhusband, has indeed brought her, in a wonderful manner, to be willing toembrace a religious life; and has given her just ideas of the being of aGod, of his power, justice, and mercy; yet I desire to know of him, ifhe has said any thing to her of Jesus Christ, and of the salvation ofsinners; of the nature of faith in him, and the redemption by him; ofth
e Holy Spirit, the Resurrection, the last judgment, and afuture state."
I called Will Atkins again, and asked him; but the poor fellow fellimmediately into tears, and told us he had said something to her of allthose things, but that he was himself so wicked a creature, and his ownconscience so reproached him with his horrid, ungodly life, that hetrembled at the apprehensions, that her knowledge of him should lessenthe attention she should give to those things, and make her rathercontemn religion than receive it: but he was assured, he said, that hermind was so disposed to receive due impressions of all those things,that, if I would but discourse with her, she would make it appear to mysatisfaction that my labour would not be lost upon her.
Accordingly I called her in, and placing myself as interpreter betweenmy religious priest and the woman, I entreated him to begin with her.But sure such a sermon was never preached by a popish priest in theselatter ages of the world: and, as I told him, I thought he had all thezeal, all the knowledge, all the sincerity of a Christian, without theerrors of a Roman Catholic; and that I took him to be such a clergymanas the Roman bishops were before the church of Rome assumed