by Daniel Defoe
carried so far as thathe would not have married them at all: nay, notwithstanding all I wasable to say to him, he resisted me, though modestly, yet very steadily;and at last refused absolutely to marry them, unless he had first talkedwith the men and the women too; and though at first I was a littlebackward to it, yet at last I agreed to it with a good will, perceivingthe sincerity of his design.
When he came to them, he let them know that I had acquainted him withtheir circumstances, and with the present design; that he was verywilling to perform that part of his function, and marry them as I haddesired; but that before he could do it, he must take the liberty totalk with them. He told them that in the sight of all different men, andin the sense of the laws of society, they had lived all this while in anopen adultery; and that it was true that nothing but the consenting tomarry, or effectually separating them from one another now, could putan end to it; but there was a difficulty in it too, with respect to thelaws of Christian matrimony, which he was not fully satisfied about,viz. that of marrying one that is a professed Christian to a savage, anidolater, and a heathen, one that is not baptized; and yet that he didnot see that there was time left for it to endeavour to persuade thewomen to be baptized, or to profess the name of Christ, whom they had,he doubted, heard nothing of, and without which they could notbe baptized.
He told me he doubted they were but indifferent Christians themselves;that they had but little knowledge of God or his ways, and therefore hecould not expect that they had said much to their wives on that headyet; but that unless they would promise him to use their endeavours withtheir wives to persuade them to become Christians, and would as well asthey could instruct them in the knowledge and belief of God that madethem, and to worship Jesus Christ that redeemed them, he could not marrythem; for he would have no hand in joining Christians with savages; norwas it consistent with the principles of the Christian religion, and wasindeed expressly forbidden in God's law.
They heard all this very attentively, and I delivered it very faithfullyto them from his mouth, as near his own words as I could, only sometimesadding something of my own, to convince them how just it was, and how Iwas of his mind: and I always very faithfully distinguished between whatI said from myself and what were the clergyman's words. They told me itwas very true what the gentleman had said, that they were but veryindifferent Christians themselves, and that they had never talked totheir wives about religion.--"Lord, Sir," says Will Atkins, "how shouldwe teach them religion? Why, we know nothing ourselves; and besides,Sir," said he, "should we go to talk to them of God, and Jesus Christ,and heaven and hell, it would be to make them laugh at us, and ask uswhat we believe ourselves? and if we should tell them we believe allthe things that we speak of to them, such as of good people going toheaven, and wicked people to the devil, they would ask us, where weintended to go ourselves who believe all this, and yet are such wickedfellows, as we indeed are: why, Sir," said Will, "'tis enough to givethem a surfeit of religion, at that hearing: folks must have somereligion themselves before they pretend to teach other people."--"WillAtkins," said I to him, "though I am afraid what you say has too muchtruth in it, yet can you not tell your wife that she is in the wrong;that there is a God, and a religion better than her own; that her godsare idols; that they can neither hear nor speak; that there is a greatBeing that made all things, and that can destroy all that he has made;that he rewards the good, and punishes the bad; that we are to be judgedby him, at last, for all we do here? You are not so ignorant but evennature itself will teach you that all this is true; and I am satisfiedyou know it all to be true, and believe it yourself."
"That's true, Sir," said Atkins; "but with what face can I say any thingto my wife of all this, when she will tell me immediately it cannotbe true?"
"Not true!" said I; "what do you mean by that?"--"Why, Sir," said he,"she will tell me it cannot be true: that this God (I shall tell her of)can be just, or can punish or reward, since I am not punished and sentto the devil, that have been such a wicked creature as she knows I havebeen, even to her, and to every body else; and that I should be sufferedto live, that have been always acting so contrary to what I must tellher is good, and to what I ought to have done."
"Why truly, Atkins," said I, "I am afraid thou speakest too much truth;"and with that I let the clergyman know what Atkins had said, for he wasimpatient to know. "O!" said the priest, "tell him there is one thingwill make him the best minister in the world to his wife, and that isrepentance; for none teach repentance like true penitents. He wantsnothing but to repent, and then he will be so much the better qualifiedto instruct his wife; he will then be able to tell her, that there isnot only a God, and that he is the just rewarder of good and evil; butthat he is a merciful Being, and, with infinite goodness andlong-suffering, forbears to punish those that offend; waiting to begracious, and willing not the death of a sinner, but rather that heshould return and live; that he often suffers wicked men to go on a longtime, and even reserves damnation to the general day of retribution:that it is a clear evidence of God, and of a future state, thatrighteous men receive not their reward, or wicked men their punishment,till they come into another world; and this will lend him to teach hiswife the doctrine of the resurrection, and of the last judgment: let himbut repent for himself, he will be an excellent preacher of repentanceto his wife."
I repeated all this to Atkins, who looked very serious all the while,and who, we could easily perceive, was more than ordinarily affectedwith it: when being eager, and hardly suffering me to make an end--"Iknow all this, master," says he, "and a great deal more; but I han't theimpudence to talk thus to my wife, when God and my own conscience knows,and my wife will be an undeniable evidence against me, that I have livedas if I never heard of God, or a future state, or any thing about it;and to talk of my repenting, alas! (and with that he fetched a deepsigh; and I could see that tears stood in his eyes,) 'tis past all thatwith me."--"Past it, Atkins!" said I; "what dost thou mean by that?"--"Iknow well enough what I mean, Sir," says he; "I mean 'tis too late; andthat is too true."
I told my clergyman word for word what he said. The poor zealous priest(I must call him so; for, be his opinion what it will, he had certainlya most singular affection for the good of other men's souls; and itwould be hard to think he had not the like for his own)--I say, thiszealous, affectionate man could not refrain tears also: but recoveringhimself, he said to me, "Ask him but one question: Is he easy that it istoo late, or is he troubled, and wishes it were not so?" I put thequestion fairly to Atkins; and he answered with a great deal of passion,"How could any man be easy in a condition that certainly must end ineternal destruction? That he was far from being easy; but that, on thecontrary, he believed it would one time or the other ruin him."
"What do you mean by that?" said I.--"Why," he said, "he believed heshould, one time or another, cut his own throat to put an end to theterror of it."
The clergyman shook his head, with a great concern in his face, when Itold him all this; but turning quick to me upon it, said, "If that behis case, you may assure him it is not too late; Christ will give himrepentance. But pray," says he, "explain this to him, that as no man issaved but by Christ, and the merit of his passion, procuring divinemercy for him, how can it be too late for any man to receive mercy? Doeshe think he is able to sin beyond the power or reach of divine mercy?Pray tell him, there may be a time when provoked mercy will no longerstrive, and when God may refuse to hear; but that 'tis never too latefor men to ask mercy; and we that are Christ's servants are commanded topreach mercy at all times, in the name of Jesus Christ, to all thosethat sincerely repent: so that 'tis never too late to repent."
I told Atkins all this, and he heard me with great earnestness; but itseemed as if he turned off the discourse to the rest; for he said to mehe would go and have some talk with his wife: so he went out awhile, andwe talked to the rest. I perceived they were all stupidly ignorant as tomatters of religion; much as I was when I went rambling away from myfather; and yet that there were none of them backwar
d to hear what hadbeen said; and all of them seriously promised that they would talk withtheir wives about it, and do their endeavour to persuade them to turnChristians.
The clergyman smiled upon me when I reported what answer they gave, butsaid nothing a good while; but at last shaking his head, "We that areChrist's servants," says he, "can go no farther than to exhort andinstruct; and when men comply, submit to the reproof, and promise whatwe ask, 'tis all we can do; we are bound to accept their good words; butbelieve me, Sir," said he, "whatever you may have known of the life ofthat man you call William Atkins, I believe he is the only sincereconvert among them;
