Part 23

"Sir, said he, I must confess it as a great unhappiness that we disagree in several doctrinal articles of religion; but surely both of us acknowledge this, that there is a God, who having given us some stated rules for our service and obedience, we ought not willingly and knowingly to offend him; either by neglecting what he has commanded, or by doing what he has forbidden. This truth every Christian owns, that when any one presumptuously sins against God's command, the Almighty then withdraws his blessing from him; every good man therefore ought certainly to prevent such neglect of, or sin against, God and his commands." I thanked the young priest for expressing so great a concern for us, and desired him to explain the particulars of what he had observed, that according to the parable of Achan, I _might remove the accursed thing from among us_ "Why then, Sir, said he, in the first place, you have four Englishmen, who have taken savage women to their wives, by whom they have several children, though none of them are legally married, as the law of God and man requires; they, I say, Sir, are no less than adulterers, and as they still live in adultery, are liable to the curse of God. I know, Sir, you may object the want of a priest or clergyman of any kind; as also, pen, ink and paper, to write down a contract of marriage, and have it signed between them. But neither this, nor what the Spanish governor has told you of their choosing by consent, can be reckoned a marriage, nor any more than an agreement to keep them from quarrelling among themselves; for, Sir, the essence or sacrament of matrimony (so he called it) not only consists in mutual consent, but in the legal obligation, which compels them to own and acknowledge one another, to abstain from other persons, the men to provide for their wives and children, and the woman to the same and like conditions, _nutatis mutandis,_ on their side: whereas, Sir, these men, upon their own pleasure, on any occasion, may forsake those women and marry others, and by disowning their children, suffer them utterly to perish. Now, Sir, 'added he, 'can God be honoured in such an unlawful liberty as this; how can a blessing succeed to the best endeavours, if men are allowed to live in so licentious a way?" I was indeed struck with the thing myself, and thought that they were much to blame, that no formal contract had been made, though it had been but breaking a stick between them, to engage them to live as man and wife, never to separate, but love, cherish, and comfort one another all their lives; _yet Sir,_ said I, _when they took these wommen, I was not here, and if it is adultery, it is past my remedy, and I cannot help it_. "True, Sir,' answered the young priest, you cannot be charged with that part of the crime which was done in your absence: but I beseech you, don't flatter yourself, that you are under no obligation now to put a period to it: which if you neglect to do, the guilt will be entirely on you alone, since it is certainly in nobody's power but yours, to alter their condition." I must confess, I was so dull, that I thought he meant, I should part them, and knowing that this would put the whole island in confusion, I told him, I could not consent to it upon any account whatsoever. "Sir,' said he, in a great surprise, 'I do not mean that you should separate, but marry them, by a written contract, signed by both man and woman, and by all the witnesses present, which all the European laws decree to be of sufficient efficacy." Amazed with such true piety and sincerity, and considering the validity of a written contract, I acknowledged all that he said to be very just and kind, and that I would discourse with the man about it; neither could I see what reason they could have not to let him marry them, whose authority in that affair is owned to be as authentic as if they were married by any of our clergymen in England.

The next complaint he had to make to me was this, that though these English subjects of mine have lived with these women seven years, and though they were of good understanding, and capable of instruction, having learned not only to speak, but to read English, yet all this while they had never taught them any thing of the Christian religion, or the knowledge of God, much less in what manner he ought to be served. "And is not this an unaccountable neglect:' said he warmly. 'Depend upon it, God Almighty will call them to account for such contempt. And though I am not of your religion, yet I should be glad to see these people released from the devil's power, and be saved by the principles of the Christian religion, the knowledge of God, of a Redeemer, the resurrection, and of a future state. But as it is not too late, if you please to give me leave to instruct them, I doubt not but I shall supply this great defect, by bringing them into the great circle of Christianity, even while you continue in the island."

I could hold no longer, but embracing him, told him, with a thousand thanks, I would grant whatever he requested, and desired him to proceed in the third article, which he did in the following manner;

"Sir,' said he, 'it should be a maxim among all Christians, that Christian knowledge ought to be propagated by all possible means, and on all occasion. Upon this account our church sends missionaries into Persia, India, and China, men who are willing to die for the sake of God & the Christian faith, in order to bring poor infidels into the way of salvation. Now, Sir, as here is an opportunity to convert seven & thirty poor savages, I wonder how you can pass by such an occasion of doing good, which is really worth the expence of a man's whole life."

I must confess I was so confounded at this discourse, that I could not tell how to answer him. "Sir,' said he, feeling me in disorder, 'I shall be very sorry if I have given you offence." _No Sir,_ said I, _I am rather confounded; and you know my circumstances, that being bound to the East Indies in a merchant ship, I cannot wrong the owners so much, as to detain the ship here, the men lying at victuals and savages on their account. If I stay aboard several days, I must pay 3l. sterling_ per diem _demurage, nor must the ship stop above eight days more; so that I am unable to engage in this work, unless I would leave the ship, and be reduced to my former condition._ The priest, though he owned this was hard upon me, yet laid it to my conscience, whether the blessing of saving seven and thirty souls was not worth venturing all that I had in the world? _Sir,_ said I, _it is very true; but as you are an ecclesiastic, it naturally falls into your profession: why, therefore, don't you rather offer to undertake it yourself than press me to it?_ upon this he turned about, making a very low bow, "I most humbly thank God and you, Sir, (said he) for so blessed a call; and most willingly undertake so glorious an office, which will sufficiently compensate all the hazards and difficulties I have gone through in a long and uncomfortable voyage."

While he was thus speaking, I could discover a rapture in his face, by his colour going and coming; at the same time his eyes sparkled like fire, and all the signs of the most zealous transports. And when I asked whether he was in earnest? _Sir,_ said he, _it was to preach to the Indians I consented to come along with you; these infidels, even in this little island, are infinitely of more worth than my poor life: if so that I should prove the happy instrument of saving these poor creatures' souls, I care not if I never see my native country again. One thing I only beg of you more is, that you would leave Friday with me, to be my interpreter, without whose assistance neither of us will understand each other._

This request very sensibly troubled me; first, upon Friday's being bred a Protestant; and secondly, for the affection I bore to him for his fidelity: But, immediately the remembrance of Friday's father coming into my head, I recommended him to him as having learned Spanish, which the priest also understood; and so was thoroughly satisfied with him.

When we came to the Englishmen, after I had told them what necessary 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?