things I had done for them, I talked to them of the scandalous life they
led, told them what notice the clergyman had taken of it, and asked them
if they were married men or bachelors? They answered, two of them were
widowers, and the other three single men. But, said I, with what
conscience can you call these your wives, by whom you have so many
children, and yet are not lawfully married? They all said that they took
them before the governor as such, having nobody else to marry them,
which they thought as legal, as if they had had a parson. No doubt, said
I, but in the eye of God it is so: but unless I am assured of your
honest intent, never to desert these poor creatures, I can do nothing
more for you, neither can you expect God's blessing while you live in
such an open course of adultery. Hereupon, Will Atkins, who spoke for
the rest, told me 'That they believed their wives the most innocent and
virtuous creatures in the world; that they would never forsake them
while they had breath; and that, if there was a clergyman in the ship,
they would be married to them with all their hearts.' I told you before,
said I, that I have a minister with me, who shall marry you to-morrow
morning, if you are willing; so I would have you consult to-night with
the rest about it. I told him the clergyman was a Frenchman, and knew
not a word of English, but that I would act as clerk between them. And
indeed this business met with such speedy success, that they all told
me, in a few minutes after, 'that they were ready to be formally married
as soon as I pleased;' with which informing the priest, he was
exceedingly rejoiced.
Nothing now remained, but that the women should be made sensible of the
meaning of the thing; with which being well satisfied, they with their
husbands attended at my apartment the next morning; there was my priest,
habited in a black vest, something like a cassock, with a sash round it;
much resembling a minister, and I was his interpreter. But the
seriousness of his behaviour, and the scruples he made of marrying the
women, who were not baptized, gave them, an exceeding reverence for his
person: nor indeed would he marry them at all, till he obtained my
liberty to discourse both with the men and women, and then he told them,
'That in the sight of all indifferent men, and in the sense of the laws
of society, they had lived in open adultery, which nothing new, but
their consent to marry, or final separation, could put an end to; and
even here was a difficulty with respect to the laws of Christian
matrimony, in marrying a professed Christian to a heathen idolater,
unbaptized; but yet there was time enough to make them profess the name
of Christ, without which nothing could be done; that, besides, he
believed themselves very indifferent Christians; and consequently had
not discoursed with their wives upon that subject; and that unless they
promised him to do so, he could not marry them, as being expressly
forbidden by the laws of God.'
All this they heard attentively, and owned readily.
_But, Lord, Sir,_ said Will Atkins to me _how could we teach them
religion, who know nothing of it ourselves? How can we talk to our wives
of God, Jesus Christ, heaven, and hell? Why they would only laugh at us,
who never yet have practiced religion, but on the contrary all manner of
wickedness. Will Atkins,_ said I, _cannot you tell your wife she is in
the wrong, and that her gods are idols, which can neither speak nor
understand; but that our God, who has made, can destroy all things; that
he rewards the good and punishes the wicked; and at last will bring us
to judgment; cannot you tell her these things? That's true,_ said
Atkins, _but then she'll tell me it is utterly false, since I am not
punished and sent to the devil, who hath been such a wicked creature._
These words I interpreted to the priest. "Oh!" said he, "tell him, his
repentance will make him a very good minister to his spouse, and qualify
him to preach on the mercy and long suffering of a merciful Being, who
desires not the death of a sinner, and even defers damnation to the last
judgment; this will lead him to the doctrine of the resurrection and
will make him an excellent preacher to his wife." I repeated this to
Atkins, who being more than ordinary affected with it, replied, _I know
all this, Sir, and a great deal more; but how can I have the impudence
to talk thus to my wife, given my conscience witnesses against me?
Alas!_ said he (with tears in his eye, and giving a great sigh) _as for
repenting, that is for ever past me. Past you! Atkins,_ said I, _what do
you mean? You know well enough,_ said he, _what I mean, I mean it is
too late._
When I told the priest what he said, the poor affectionate man could not
refrain from weeping; but recovering himself "Pray, Sir," said he, "ask
him if he is contented that it is too late; or is he concerned, and
wishes it were not so?" This question I put fairly to Atkins, who
replied in a passion, _How can I be easy in a state which I know must
terminate in my ruin? for I really believe, some time or other, I shall
cut my threat, to put a period both to my life, and to the terrors of my
conscience._
At this, the clergyman shook his head, "Sir," said he, "pray tell him it
is not too late; Christ will give him repentance, if he has recourse to
the merit of his passion. Does he think he is beyond the power of Divine
mercy? There may indeed be a time when provoked mercy will no longer
strive, but never too late for men to repent in this world." I told
Atkins every word the priest had said, who then parted from us to walk
with his wife, while we discoursed with the rest. But these were very
stupid in religious matters; yet all of them promised to do their
endeavours to make their wives turn Christians; and upon which promises
the priest married the three couple. But as Atkins was the only sincere
convert and of more sense than the rest, my clergyman was earnestly
inquiring after him: "Sir," said he, "let us walk out of this labyrinth,
& I dare say we shall find this poor man preaching to his wife already."
And indeed we found it true; for coming to the edge of the wood, we
perceived Atkins and his savage wife sitting under the shade of a bush,
in very earnest discourse; he pointed to the sun, to the quarters of the
earth, to himself, to her, the woods, and the trees. Immediately we
could perceive him start upon his feet, fall down upon his knees, and
lift up both his hands; at which the tears ran down my clergyman's
cheeks; but our great misfortune was, we could not hear one word that
passed between them. Another time he would embrace her, wiping the tears
from her eyes, kissing her with the greatest transports, and then both
kneel down for some minutes together. Such raptures of joy did this
confirm in my young priest, that he could scarcely contain himself: And
a little after this, we observed by her motion, as frequently lifting up
her hands, and laying them on her breast, that she was mightily affected
with his discourse, and so they withdrew from our sight.
When we came back, we found them both waiting to be called in; upon
which he agreed to examine him alone, and so I began thus to discourse
him. "Prithee, Will Atkins," said I, "what education have you? What was
your father?"
_W.A._ A better man than ever I shall be; he was, Sir, a clergyman, who
gave me good instruction, or correction, which I despised like a brute
as I was, and murdered my poor father.
_Pr._ Ha! a murderer!
[_Here the priest started and looked pale, as thinking he had really
killed his father_.]
_R.C._ What, did you kill him with your hands?
_W.A._ No, Sir, I cut not his throat, but broke his heart by the most
unnatural turn of disobedience to the tenderest and best of fathers.
_R.C._ Well, I pray God grant you repentance: I did not ask you to
exhort a confession; but I asked you because I see you have more
knowledge of what is good than your companions.
_W.A._ O Sir, whenever I look back upon my past life, conscience
upbraids me with my father: the sins against our parents make the
deepest wounds, and their weight lies the heaviest upon the mind.
_R.C._ You talk, Will, too feelingly and sensibly for me; I am not able
to bear it.
_W.A._ You bear it, Sir! you know nothing of it.
_R.C._ But yes, Atkins, I do; and every shore, valley, and tree in this
island, witness the anguish of my soul for my undutifulness to my kind
father, whom I have murdered likewise; yet my repentance falls
infinitely short of yours. But, Will, how comes the sense of this matter
to touch you just now?
_W.A._ Sir, the work you have set me about, has occasioned it; for
talking to my wife about God and religion, she has preached me such a
sermon, that I shall retain it in lasting remembrance.
_R.C._ No, no, it is your own moving pious arguments to her, has made
conscience fling them back upon you. But pray, Atkins, inform us what
passed between you and your wife, and in what manner you did begin.
_W.A._ I talked to her of the laws of marriage, the reason of such
compacts, whereby order and justice is maintained; without which men
would run from their wives and children, to the dissolution of families
or inheritances.
_R.C._ Well, and what did she say to all this?
_W.A._ Sir, we began our discourse in the following manner, which I
shall exactly repeat according to my mean capacity, if you think it
worth you while to honour it with your attention.
* * * * *
_The DIALOGUE between WILL ATKINS and his Wife in the wood._
_Wife._ You tell me marriage God appoint, have you God in your country?
_W.A._ Yes, child, God is in every nation.
_Wife._ No; great old Benamuckee God is in my country, not yours.
_A._ My dear, God is in heaven, which he made; he also made the earth,
the sea and all that is therein.
_Wife._ Why you no tell me much long ago?
_A._ My dear I have been a wicked wretch, having a long time lived
without the knowledge of God in the world.
_Wife._ What, not know great God in own nation? No do good ting? No say
O to him? that's strange!
_A._ But, my dear, many live as if there was no God in heaven for all
that.
_Wife._ Why God suffer them? why makee not live well?
_A._ It is our own faults, child.
_Wife._ But if he is much great, can makee kill, why no makee kill when
no serve him? No be good mans, no cry O to him?
_A._ That's true, my dear, he may strike us dead, but his abundant mercy
spareth us.
_Wife._ Did not you tell God thanked for that?
_A._ No, I have neither thanked him for his mercy, nor feared him for
his power.
_Wife._ Then me not believe your God be good, nor makee kill, when you
makee him angry.
_A._ Alas! must my wicked life hinder you from believing in him?
_Wife_. How can me tink your God lives there? _(pointing to heaven.)_
Sure he no ken what you do here.
_A._ Yes, my dear, he hears us speak, sees what we do, and knows what we
even think.
_Wife._ Where then makee power strong, when he hears you curse, swear de
great damn?
_A._ My dear, this shows indeed he is a God and not a man who has such
tender mercy.
_Wife._ Mercy I what you call mercy?
_A._ He pities and spares us: as he is our great Creator, so he is also
our tender Father.
_Wife._ So God never angry, never kill wicked, then he no good, no great
mighty.
_A._ O my dear, don't say so, he is both; and many times he shows
terrible examples of his judgment and vengeance.
_Wife._ Then you makee de bargain with him; you do bad ting, he no hurt
you, he hurt other mans.
_A._ No, indeed, my lips are all presumptions upon his goodness.
_Wife._ Well, and yet no makee you dead; and you give him no tankee
neither?
_A._ It is true, I an ungrateful, unthankful dog, that I am.
_Wife._ Why, you say, he makee you, why makee you no much better then?
_A._ It is I alone that have deformed myself, and abused his goodness.
_Wife._ Pray makee God know me, me no makee him angry, no do bad ting.
_A._ You mean, my dear, that you desire I would teach you to know God:
alas! poor dear creature, he must teach thee, and not I. But I'll pray
earnestly to him to direct thee, and to forgive me, a miserable sinner.
_(Hereupon he went a little distance, and kneeling down, prayed
earnestly to God to enlighten her mind, and to pardon his sins; when
this was done, they continued their discourse thus.)_
_Wife._ What you put down knee for? For what hold up hand? Who you speak
to?
_A._ My dear, I bowed in token of submission to him that made me, and
prayed that he would open your eyes and understanding.
_Wife._ And can he do that too? And will he hear what you say?
_A._ Yes, my dear, he bids us pray, and has given us promise that he
will hear us.
_Wife._ When did he bid you pray? What I do you hear him speak?
_A._ No, my dear, but God has spoken formerly to good men from heaven;
and by divine revelation they have written all his laws down in a book.
_Wife_. O where dat good book?
_A_. I have it not now by me; but one time or other I shall get it for
you to read. _Then he embraced her with great affection_.
_Wife_. Pray tell a mee, did God, teachee them write that book?
_A_. Yes, and by that rule we know him to be God.
_Wife_. What way, what rule you know him?
_A_. Because he teaches what is good, just, and holy; and forbids all
wicked and abominable actions that incur his displeasure.
_Wife_. O me fain understand that, and if he do all things you say he
do, surely he hear me say O to him; he makee me good if I wish to be
good, he no kill me if I love him; me tink, believe him great God; me
say O to him, along with you, my dear.
_Here the poor man fell upon his knees, and made her kneel down by him
praying with the greatest fervency, that God would instruct her by his
Holy Spirit; and that God by his providence would send them a Bible for
both their instructions. And such was the early piety of this new
convert, that she made him promise never to forsake God any more, lest
being_ made dead, _as she called it; she should not only want her
instructor, but himself be miserable in a long eternity_.
Such a surprising account as this was, proved very affecting to us both,
but particularly to the young clergyman, who was mightily concerned he
could not talk to her himself. "Sir," said he, "there, is something more
to be done to this woman then to marry her; I mean that she ought to be
baptized." To this, I presently agreed: "Pray," said he, "ask her
husband, whether he has ever talked to her of Jesus Christ, the
salvation of sinners, the nature of faith, and redemption in and by him,
of the Holy Spirit, the resurection, last judgment, and a future state;"
but the poor fellow melted into tears at this question, saying, that he
had said something to her of these things, but his inability to talk of
them, made him afraid, lest her knowledge of them should rather make her
contemn religion, than be benefited by it; but that if I would discourse
with her, it would be very evident my labour would not be in vain.
Accordingly I called her in, and placing myself as interpreter between
the religious priest and the woman, I entreated him to go on; but surely
never was such a sermon preached by any clergyman in these latter days,
with so much zeal, knowledge, and sincerity; in short, he brought the
woman to embrace the knowledge of Christ, and of redemption by him, with
so surprising a degree of understanding, that she made it her own
request to be baptized.
He than performed his office in the sacrament of baptism, first, by
saying some words over to himself in Latin, and then asking me to give
her a name, as being her godfather, and pouring a whole dish-full of
water upon the woman's head, he said, "_Mary_, I baptize thee in the
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost;" so that none
could know of what religion he was. After this he pronounced the
benediction in Latin. Thus the woman being made a Christian, he married
her to Will Atkins; which being finished, he affectionately exhorted him
to lead a holy life for the future; and since the Almighty, for the
convictions of his conscience, had honoured him to be the instrument or
his wife's conversion, he should not dishonor the grace of God, that
while the savage was converted, the instrument should be cast away. Thus
ended a ceremony, to me the most pleasant and agreeable I ever passed
in my life.
The affairs of the island being settled, I was preparing to go on board,
when the young man (whose mother was starved) came to me, saying, that
as he understood I had a clergyman with me, who had married the
Englishmen with savages, he had a match to make between two Christians,
which he desired might be finished before I departed. Thinking that it
was he himself that had courted his mother's maid, I persuaded him not
to do any thing rashly upon the account of his solitary circumstances;
that the maid was an unequal match for him, both in respect to substance
and years; and that it was very probable he would live to return to his
own country, where he might have a far better choice. At these words,
smiling, he interrupted me, thanking me for my good-advice; that as he
had nothing to beg of me but a small settlement, with a servant or two,
or some new necessaries, so he hoped I would not be unmindful of him
when I returned to England, but give his letter to his friends; and that
when he was redeemed, the plantation, and all its improvements, however
valuable, should be returned to me again. But as for the marriage he
proposed, that it was not himself, but that it was between my
Jack-of-all-trades and the maid Susan.
I was indeed agreeably surprised at the mentioning this match, which
seemed very suitable, the one being a very ingenious fellow, and the
other an excellent, dexterous, and sensible housewife, fit to be
governess of the whole island; so we married them the same day; and as I
was her father, and gave her away, so I gave her a handsome portion,
appointing her and her husband a convenient large space of ground for
their plantation. The sharing out of the land I left to Will Atkins, who
really divided if very justly, to every person's satisfaction; they only
desired one general writing under my hand for the whole, which I caused
to be drawn up, signed, and sealed to them, setting out their bounds,
and giving them a right to the whole possession of their respective
plantations, with their improvements, to them and their heirs, reserving
all the rest of the island as my own property, and a certain rent for
every particular plantation, after eleven years. As to their laws and
government, I exhorted them to love one another; and as to the Indians
who lived in a nook by themselves, I allotted three or four of them
plantations, and the rest willingly chose to become servants to the
other families, by which means they were employed in useful labour, and
fared much better than they did before. Besides the savages thus mixed
with the Christians, the work of their conversion might be set on foot
by the latter, in the clergyman's absence, to our equal satisfaction.
The young priest, however, was a little anxious lest the Christians
should not be willing to do their parts in instructing these poor
Indians; I therefore told him we should call them all together; that he
should speak to the Spaniards who were Papists, and I to the English,
who were Protestants, and make them promise that they would never make
any distinction in religion, but teach the general true knowledge of
God, and his son Jesus Christ, in order to convert the poor savages. And
this, indeed, they all promised us accordingly.
When I came to Will Atkins's house, I found his baptized wife, and the
young woman newly married to my Jack-of-all-trades, were become great
intimates, and discoursing of religion together. _O, Sir,_ says Will
Atkins, _when God has sinners to reconcile to himself, he never wants an
instructor; I knew I was unworthy of so good a work, and therefore this
young woman has been sent hither as it were from heaven, who is
sufficient to convert a whole nation of savages_. The young woman
blushed, and was going to rise; but I desired her to sit still, and
hoped that God would bless her in so good a work; and then pulling out a
Bible (which I brought on purpose in my pocket for him.) _Here Atkins_,
said I, _here is an assistant that perhaps you had not before_. So
confounded was the poor man, that is was some time before he could
speak; at last turning to his wife, _My dear_, he said, _did I not tell
you that God could hear what we said? Here's the book I prayed for, when
you and I kneeled under the bush: God then heard us, and now has sent
it_. The woman was surprised, and thought really God had sent that
individual book from heaven; but I turned to the young woman, and
desired her to explain to the young convert, that God may properly be
said to answer our petitions, when, in the course of his providence,
such particular things came to pass as we petitioned for. This the young
woman did effectually; but surely Will Atkins's joy cannot be expressed;
no man being more thankful for any thing in the world, than he was for
his Bible, nor desired it from a better principle.
After several religious discourses, I desired the young woman to give me
an account of the anguish she felt when she was starving to death with
hunger; to which she readily consented, and began in the
following manner:
"Sir," said she, "all our victuals being gone, after I had fasted one
day, my stomach was very sickly, and, at the approach, of night, I was
inclined to yawning and sleepy. When I slept upon the couch three hours,
I awaked a little refreshed: three hours after, my stomach being more
and more sickly, I lay down again, but could not sleep, being very faint
and ill. Thus I passed the second day with a strange variety, first
hungry, then sick again, with reachings to vomit: that night I dreamed I
was at Barbadoes, buying plenty of provisions; and dined heartily. But
when I awaked, my spirits were exceedingly sunk, to find myself in the
extremity of famine. There was but one glass of wine, which being mixed
with sugar, I drank up; but for want of substance to digest upon, the
fumes of it got into my head, & made me senseless for some time. The
third day I was so ravenous and furious, that I could have eaten a
little child if it had come in my way; during which time, I was as mad
as any creature in Bedlam. In one of these fits I fell down, and struck
my face against the corner of a pallet bed, where my mistress lay; the
blood gushed out of my nose, but by my excessive bleeding, both the
violence of the fever, and the ravenous part of the hunger abated. After
this, I grew sick again, strove to vomit, but could not; then bleeding a
second time, I swooned away as dead; when I came to myself, I had a
dreadful gnawing pain in my stomach, which went of towards night, with a
longing desire for food. I took a draught of water and sugar, but it
came up again; then I drank water without sugar, and that staid with me.
I laid me down on the bed, praying God would take me away: after I had
slumbered, I thought myself a-dying, therefore recommended my soul to
God, and wished somebody would throw me into the sea. All this while my
departing mistress lay by me: the last bit of bread she had, she gave to
her dear child my young master. The morning after, I fell into a violent
passion of crying, and after that into hunger. I espied the blood that
came from my nose in a basin, which I immediately swallowed up. At night
I had the usual variations, as the pain in the stomach, sick, sleepy,
and ravenous: and I had no thought but that I should die before morning.
In the morning came on terrible gripings in my bowels. At this time I
heard my young master's lamentations, by which I understood his mother
was dead. Soon after this, the sailors cried, _A sail! A sail!_
hallooing as if they were distracted for joy of that relief, which
afterwards we received from your hands."