Chapter VII. Conversation Betwixt Will Atkins and his Wife

by Daniel Defoe

　　I was astonished at the sincerity and temper of this pious Papist,as much as I was oppressed by the power of his reasoning; and itpresently occurred to my thoughts, that if such a temper wasuniversal, we might be all Catholic Christians, whatever Church orparticular profession we joined in; that a spirit of charity wouldsoon work us all up into right principles; and as he thought thatthe like charity would make us all Catholics, so I told him Ibelieved, had all the members of his Church the like moderation,they would soon all be Protestants. And there we left that part;for we never disputed at all. However, I talked to him anotherway, and taking him by the hand, "My friend," says I, "I wish allthe clergy of the Romish Church were blessed with such moderation,and had an equal share of your charity. I am entirely of youropinion; but I must tell you that if you should preach suchdoctrine in Spain or Italy, they would put you into theInquisition." - "It may be so," said he; "I know not what theywould do in Spain or Italy; but I will not say they would be thebetter Christians for that severity; for I am sure there is noheresy in abounding with charity."Well, as Will Atkins and his wife were gone, our business there wasover, so we went back our own way; and when we came back, we foundthem waiting to be called in. Observing this, I asked my clergymanif we should discover to him that we had seen him under the bush ornot; and it was his opinion we should not, but that we should talkto him first, and hear what he would say to us; so we called him inalone, nobody being in the place but ourselves, and I began byasking him some particulars about his parentage and education. Hetold me frankly enough that his father was a clergyman who wouldhave taught him well, but that he, Will Atkins, despised allinstruction and correction; and by his brutish conduct cut thethread of all his father's comforts and shortened his days, forthat he broke his heart by the most ungrateful, unnatural returnfor the most affectionate treatment a father ever gave.In what he said there seemed so much sincerity of repentance, thatit painfully affected me. I could not but reflect that I, too, hadshortened the life of a good, tender father by my bad conduct andobstinate self-will. I was, indeed, so surprised with what he hadtold me, that I thought, instead of my going about to teach andinstruct him, the man was made a teacher and instructor to me in amost unexpected manner.I laid all this before the young clergyman, who was greatlyaffected with it, and said to me, "Did I not say, sir, that whenthis man was converted he would preach to us all? I tell you, sir,if this one man be made a true penitent, there will be no need ofme; he will make Christians of all in the island." - But having alittle composed myself, I renewed my discourse with Will Atkins."But, Will," said I, "how comes the sense of this matter to touchyou just now?"W.A. - Sir, you have set me about a work that has struck a dartthough my very soul; I have been talking about God and religion tomy wife, in order, as you directed me, to make a Christian of her,and she has preached such a sermon to me as I shall never forgetwhile I live.R.C. - No, no, it is not your wife has preached to you; but whenyou were moving religious arguments to her, conscience has flungthem back upon you.W.A. - Ay, sir, with such force as is not to be resisted.R.C. - Pray, Will, let us know what passed between you and yourwife; for I know something of it already.W.A. - Sir, it is impossible to give you a full account of it; I amtoo full to hold it, and yet have no tongue to express it; but lether have said what she will, though I cannot give you an account ofit, this I can tell you, that I have resolved to amend and reformmy life.R.C. - But tell us some of it: how did you begin, Will? For thishas been an extraordinary case, that is certain. She has preacheda sermon, indeed, if she has wrought this upon you.W.A. - Why, I first told her the nature of our laws about marriage,and what the reasons were that men and women were obliged to enterinto such compacts as it was neither in the power of one nor otherto break; that otherwise, order and justice could not bemaintained, and men would run from their wives, and abandon theirchildren, mix confusedly with one another, and neither families bekept entire, nor inheritances be settled by legal descent.R.C. - You talk like a civilian, Will. Could you make herunderstand what you meant by inheritance and families? They knowno such things among the savages, but marry anyhow, without regardto relation, consanguinity, or family; brother and sister, nay, asI have been told, even the father and the daughter, and the son andthe mother.W.A. - I believe, sir, you are misinformed, and my wife assures meof the contrary, and that they abhor it; perhaps, for any furtherrelations, they may not be so exact as we are; but she tells menever in the near relationship you speak of.R.C. - Well, what did she say to what you told her?W.A. - She said she liked it very well, as it was much better thanin her country.R.C. - But did you tell her what marriage was?W.A. - Ay, ay, there began our dialogue. I asked her if she wouldbe married to me our way. She asked me what way that was; I toldher marriage was appointed by God; and here we had a strange talktogether, indeed, as ever man and wife had, I believe.N.B. - This dialogue between Will Atkins and his wife, which I tookdown in writing just after he told it me, was as follows:-WIFE. - Appointed by your God! - Why, have you a God in yourcountry?W.A. - Yes, my dear, God is in every country.WIFE. - No your God in my country; my country have the great oldBenamuckee God.W.A. - Child, I am very unfit to show you who God is; God is inheaven and made the heaven and the earth, the sea, and all that inthem is.WIFE. - No makee de earth; no you God makee all earth; no makee mycountry.[Will Atkins laughed a little at her expression of God not makingher country.]WIFE. - No laugh; why laugh me? This no ting to laugh.[He was justly reproved by his wife, for she was more serious thanhe at first.]W.A. - That's true, indeed; I will not laugh any more, my dear.WIFE. - Why you say you God makee all?W.A. - Yes, child, our God made the whole world, and you, and me,and all things; for He is the only true God, and there is no Godbut Him. He lives for ever in heaven.WIFE. - Why you no tell me long ago?W.A. - That's true, indeed; but I have been a wicked wretch, andhave not only forgotten to acquaint thee with anything before, buthave lived without God in the world myself.WIFE. - What, have you a great God in your country, you no knowHim? No say O to Him? No do good ting for Him? That no possible.W.A. - It is true; though, for all that, we live as if there was noGod in heaven, or that He had no power on earth.Wife. - But why God let you do so? Why He no makee you good live?W.A. - It is all our own fault.WIFE. - But you say me He is great, much great, have much greatpower; can makee kill when He will: why He no makee kill when youno serve Him? no say O to Him? no be good mans?W.A. - That is true, He might strike me dead; and I ought to expectit, for I have been a wicked wretch, that is true; but God ismerciful, and does not deal with us as we deserve.WIFE. - But then do you not tell God thankee for that too?W. A. - No, indeed, I have not thanked God for His mercy, any morethan I have feared God from His power.WIFE. - Then you God no God; me no think, believe He be such one,great much power, strong: no makee kill you, though you make Himmuch angry.W.A. - What, will my wicked life hinder you from believing in God?What a dreadful creature am I! and what a sad truth is it, that thehorrid lives of Christians hinder the conversion of heathens!WIFE. - How me tink you have great much God up there [she points upto heaven], and yet no do well, no do good ting? Can He tell?Sure He no tell what you do?W.A. - Yes, yes, He knows and sees all things; He hears us speak,sees what we do, knows what we think though we do not speak.WIFE. - What! He no hear you curse, swear, speak de great damn?W.A. - Yes, yes, He hears it all.WIFE. - Where be then the much great power strong?W.A. - He is merciful, that is all we can say for it; and thisproves Him to be the true God; He is God, and not man, andtherefore we are not consumed.[Here Will Atkins told us he was struck with horror to think how hecould tell his wife so clearly that God sees, and hears, and knowsthe secret thoughts of the heart, and all that we do, and yet thathe 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 dowicked; then He no good Himself, or no great able.W.A. - Yes, yes, my dear, He is infinitely good and infinitelygreat, and able to punish too; and sometimes, to show His justiceand vengeance, He lets fly His anger to destroy sinners and makeexamples; many are cut off in their sins.WIFE. - But no makee kill you yet; then He tell you, maybe, that Heno makee you kill: so you makee the bargain with Him, you do badthing, He no be angry at you when He be angry at other mans.W.A. - No, indeed, my sins are all presumptions upon His goodness;and He would be infinitely just if He destroyed me, as He has doneother men.WIFE. - Well, and yet no kill, no makee you dead: what you say toHim for that? You no tell Him thankee 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: it is I have deformedmyself and abused His goodness, and made myself an abominablewretch.WIFE. - I wish you makee God know me. I no makee Him angry - I nodo bad wicked thing.[Here Will Atkins said his heart sunk within him to hear a pooruntaught creature desire to be taught to know God, and he such awicked wretch, that he could not say one word to her about God, butwhat the reproach of his own carriage would make most irrational toher to believe; nay, that already she had told him that she couldnot believe in God, because he, that was so wicked, was notdestroyed.]W.A. - My dear, you mean, you wish I could teach you to know God,not God to know you; for He knows you already, and every thought inyour heart.WIFE. - Why, then, He know what I say to you now: He know me wishto know Him. How shall me know who makee me?W.A. - Poor creature, He must teach thee: I cannot teach thee. Iwill pray to Him to teach thee to know Him, and forgive me, that amunworthy to teach thee.[The poor fellow was in such an agony at her desiring him to makeher know God, and her wishing to know Him, that he said he felldown on his knees before her, and prayed to God to enlighten hermind with the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, and to pardon hissins, and accept of his being the unworthy instrument ofinstructing her in the principles of religion: after which he satdown by her again, and their dialogue went on. This was the timewhen we saw him kneel down and hold up his hands.]Wife. - What you put down the knee for? What you hold up the handfor? What you say? Who you speak to? What is all that?W.A. - My dear, I bow my knees in token of my submission to Himthat made me: I said O to Him, as you call it, and as your old mendo to their idol Benamuckee; that is, I prayed to Him.WIFE. - What say you O to Him for?W.A. - I prayed to Him to open your eyes and your understanding,that you 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 now He 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 youhear Him speak?W.A. - No, we do not hear Him speak; but He has revealed Himselfmany ways to us.[Here he was at a great loss to make her understand that God hasrevealed Himself to us by His word, and what His word was; but atlast he told it to her thus.]W.A. - God has spoken to some good men in former days, even fromheaven, by plain words; and God has inspired good men by HisSpirit; and they have 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, and help you to read it.[Here he embraced her with great affection, but with inexpressiblegrief that he had not a Bible.]WIFE. - But how you makee me know that God teachee them to writethat book?W.A. - By the same rule that we know Him to be God.WIFE. - What rule? What way you know Him?W.A. - Because He teaches and commands nothing but what is good,righteous, and holy, and tends to make us perfectly good, as wellas perfectly happy; and because He forbids and commands us to avoidall that is wicked, that is evil in itself, or evil in itsconsequence.WIFE. - That me would understand, that me fain see; if He teacheeall good thing, He makee all good thing, He give all thing, He hearme when I say O to Him, as you do just now; He makee me good if Iwish to be good; He spare me, no makee kill me, when I no be good:all this you say He do, yet He be great God; me take, think,believe Him to be great God; me say O to Him with you, my dear.Here the poor man could forbear no longer, but raised her up, madeher kneel by him, and he prayed to God aloud to instruct her in theknowledge of Himself, by His Spirit; and that by some goodprovidence, if possible, she might, some time or other, come tohave a Bible, that she might read the word of God, and be taught byit to know Him. This was the time that we saw him lift her up bythe hand, and saw him kneel down by her, as above.They had several other discourses, it seems, after this; andparticularly she made him promise that, since he confessed his ownlife had been a wicked, abominable course of provocations againstGod, that he would reform it, and not make God angry any more, lestHe should make him dead, as she called it, and then she would beleft alone, and never be taught to know this God better; and lesthe should be miserable, as he had told her wicked men would beafter death.This was a strange account, and very affecting to us both, butparticularly to the young clergyman; he was, indeed, wonderfullysurprised with it, but under the greatest affliction imaginablethat he could not talk to her, that he could not speak English tomake her understand him; and as she spoke but very broken English,he could not understand her; however, he turned himself to me, andtold me that he believed that there must be more to do with thiswoman than to marry her. I did not understand him at first; but atlength he explained himself, viz. that she ought to be baptized. Iagreed with him in that part readily, and wished it to be donepresently. "No, no; hold, sir," says he; "though I would have herbe baptized, by all means, for I must observe that Will Atkins, herhusband, has indeed brought her, in a wonderful manner, to bewilling to embrace a religious life, and has given her just ideasof the being of a God; of His power, justice, and mercy: yet Idesire to know of him if he has said anything to her of JesusChrist, and of the salvation of sinners; of the nature of faith inHim, and redemption by Him; of the Holy Spirit, the resurrection,the last judgment, and the future 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 ofall those things, but that he was himself so wicked a creature, andhis own conscience so reproached him with his horrid, ungodly life,that he trembled at the apprehensions that her knowledge of himshould lessen the attention she should give to those things, andmake her rather contemn religion than receive it; but he wasassured, he said, that her mind was so disposed to receive dueimpressions of all those things, and that if I would but discoursewith her, she would make it appear to my satisfaction that mylabour would not be lost upon her.Accordingly I called her in, and placing myself as interpreterbetween my religious priest and the woman, I entreated him to beginwith her; but sure such a sermon was never preached by a Popishpriest in these latter ages of the world; and as I told him, Ithought he had all the zeal, all the knowledge, all the sincerityof a Christian, without the error of a Roman Catholic; and that Itook him to be such a clergyman as the Roman bishops were beforethe Church of Rome assumed spiritual sovereignty over theconsciences of men. In a word, he brought the poor woman toembrace the knowledge of Christ, and of redemption by Him, not withwonder and astonishment only, as she did the first notions of aGod, but with joy and faith; with an affection, and a surprisingdegree of understanding, scarce to be imagined, much less to beexpressed; and, at her own request, she was baptized.When he was preparing to baptize her, I entreated him that he wouldperform that office with some caution, that the man might notperceive he was of the Roman Church, if possible, because of otherill consequences which might attend a difference among us in thatvery religion which we were instructing the other in. He told methat as he had no consecrated chapel, nor proper things for theoffice, I should see he would do it in a manner that I should notknow by it that he was a Roman Catholic myself, if I had not knownit before; and so he did; for saying only some words over tohimself in Latin, which I could not understand, he poured a wholedishful of water upon the woman's head, pronouncing in French, veryloud, "Mary" (which was the name her husband desired me to giveher, for I was her godfather), "I baptize thee in the name of theFather, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost;" so that none couldknow anything by it what religion he was of. He gave thebenediction afterwards in Latin, but either Will Atkins did notknow but it was French, or else did not take notice of it at thattime.As soon as this was over we married them; and after the marriagewas over, he turned to Will Atkins, and in a very affectionatemanner exhorted him, not only to persevere in that good dispositionhe was in, but to support the convictions that were upon him by aresolution to reform his life: told him it was in vain to say herepented if he did not forsake his crimes; represented to him howGod had honoured him with being the instrument of bringing his wifeto the knowledge of the Christian religion, and that he should becareful he did not dishonour the grace of God; and that if he did,he would see the heathen a better Christian than himself; thesavage converted, and the instrument cast away. He said a greatmany good things to them both; and then, recommending them to God'sgoodness, gave them the benediction again, I repeating everythingto them in English; and thus ended the ceremony. I think it wasthe most pleasant and agreeable day to me that ever I passed in mywhole life. But my clergyman had not done yet: his thoughts hungcontinually upon the conversion of the thirty-seven savages, andfain be would have stayed upon the island to have undertaken it;but I convinced him, first, that his undertaking was impracticablein itself; and, secondly, that perhaps I would put it into a way ofbeing done in his absence to his satisfaction.Having thus brought the affairs of the island to a narrow compass,I was preparing to go on board the ship, when the young man I hadtaken out of the famished ship's company came to me, and told me heunderstood I had a clergyman with me, and that I had caused theEnglishmen to be married to the savages; that he had a match too,which he desired might be finished before I went, between twoChristians, which he hoped would not be disagreeable to me.I knew this must be the young woman who was his mother's servant,for there was no other Christian woman on the island: so I beganto persuade him not to do anything of that kind rashly, or becausebe found himself in this solitary circumstance. I represented tohim that he had some considerable substance in the world, and goodfriends, as I understood by himself, and the maid also; that themaid was not only poor, and a servant, but was unequal to him, shebeing six or seven and twenty years old, and he not above seventeenor eighteen; that he might very probably, with my assistance, makea remove from this wilderness, and come into his own country again;and that then it would be a thousand to one but he would repent hischoice, and the dislike of that circumstance might bedisadvantageous to both. I was going to say more, but heinterrupted me, smiling, and told me, with a great deal of modesty,that I mistook in my guesses - that he had nothing of that kind inhis thoughts; and he was very glad to hear that I had an intent ofputting them in a way to see their own country again; and nothingshould have made him think of staying there, but that the voyage Iwas going was so exceeding long and hazardous, and would carry himquite out of the reach of all his friends; that he had nothing todesire of me but that I would settle him in some little property inthe island where he was, give him a servant or two, and some fewnecessaries, and he would live here like a planter, waiting thegood time when, if ever I returned to England, I would redeem him.He hoped I would not be unmindful of him when I came to England:that he would give me some letters to his friends in London, to letthem know how good I had been to him, and in what part of the worldand what circumstances I had left him in: and he promised me thatwhenever I redeemed him, the plantation, and all the improvementshe had made upon it, let the value be what it would, should bewholly mine.His discourse was very prettily delivered, considering his youth,and was the more agreeable to me, because he told me positively thematch was not for himself. I gave him all possible assurances thatif I lived to come safe to England, I would deliver his letters,and do his business effectually; and that he might depend I shouldnever forget the circumstances I had left him in. But still I wasimpatient to know who was the person to be married; upon which hetold me it was my Jack-of-all-trades and his maid Susan. I wasmost agreeably surprised when he named the match; for, indeed, Ithought it very suitable. The character of that man I have givenalready; and as for the maid, she was a very honest, modest, sober,and religious young woman: had a very good share of sense, wasagreeable enough in her person, spoke very handsomely and to thepurpose, always with decency and good manners, and was neither toobackward to speak when requisite, nor impertinently forward when itwas not her business; very handy and housewifely, and an excellentmanager; fit, indeed, to have been governess to the whole island;and she knew very well how to behave in every respect.The match being proposed in this manner, we married them the sameday; and as I was father at the altar, and gave her away, so I gaveher a portion; for I appointed her and her husband a handsome largespace of ground for their plantation; and indeed this match, andthe proposal the young gentleman made to give him a small propertyin the island, put me upon parcelling it out amongst them, thatthey might not quarrel afterwards about their situation.This sharing out the land to them I left to Will Atkins, who wasnow grown a sober, grave, managing fellow, perfectly reformed,exceedingly pious and religious; and, as far as I may be allowed tospeak positively in such a case, I verily believe he was a truepenitent. He divided things so justly, and so much to every one'ssatisfaction, that they only desired one general writing under myhand for the whole, which I caused to be drawn up, and signed andsealed, setting out the bounds and situation of every man'splantation, and testifying that I gave them thereby severally aright to the whole possession and inheritance of the respectiveplantations or farms, with their improvements, to them and theirheirs, reserving all the rest of the island as my own property, anda certain rent for every particular plantation after eleven years,if I, or any one from me, or in my name, came to demand it,producing an attested copy of the same writing. As to thegovernment and laws among them, I told them I was not capable ofgiving them better rules than they were able to give themselves;only I made them promise me to live in love and good neighbourhoodwith one another; and so I prepared to leave them.One thing I must not omit, and that is, that being now settled in akind of commonwealth among themselves, and having much business inhand, it was odd to have seven-and-thirty Indians live in a nook ofthe island, independent, and, indeed, unemployed; for except theproviding themselves food, which they had difficulty enough to dosometimes, they had no manner of business or property to manage. Iproposed, therefore, to the governor Spaniard that he should go tothem, with Friday's father, and propose to them to remove, andeither plant for themselves, or be taken into their severalfamilies as servants to be maintained for their labour, but withoutbeing absolute slaves; for I would not permit them to make themslaves by force, by any means; because they had their liberty giventhem by capitulation, as it were articles of surrender, which theyought not to break.They most willingly embraced the proposal, and came all verycheerfully along with him: so we allotted them land andplantations, which three or four accepted of, but all the restchose to be employed as servants in the several families we hadsettled. Thus my colony was in a manner settled as follows: TheSpaniards possessed my original habitation, which was the capitalcity, and extended their plantations all along the side of thebrook, which made the creek that I have so often described, as faras my bower; and as they increased their culture, it went alwayseastward. The English lived in the north-east part, where WillAtkins and his comrades began, and came on southward and south-west, towards the back part of the Spaniards; and every plantationhad a great addition of land to take in, if they found occasion, sothat they need not jostle one another for want of room. All theeast end of the island was left uninhabited, that if any of thesavages should come on shore there only for their customarybarbarities, they might come and go; if they disturbed nobody,nobody would disturb them: and no doubt but they were oftenashore, and went away again; for I never heard that the planterswere ever attacked or disturbed any more.