deal more; but I ha'nt the Impudence to talk thus to my Wife, when God and my own Confcience knows; and my Wife will be an undeniable Evidence against me, that I have liv'd, as if I had never heard of a God, or future State, or any Thing about it, and to talk of my repenting ALAS! And with that he fetch'd a deep Sigh; and I could fee, that Tears ftood in his Eyes: 'Tis paft all that with me: Past it, ATKINS, Said I, What doft thou mean by that? I know well enough what I mean, fays he, I mean 'tis too late, and that is too true.

I told my Clergy-man, Word for Word, what he faid; the poor zealous Priest (I must call him fo; for be his Opinion what it will, he had certainly a moft fingular Affection for the Good of other Mens Souls; and it would be hard to think he had not the like for his own) I fay, this zealous affectionate Man, could not refrain Tears alfo: But, recovering himself, he said to me, Ask him but one Queftion, Is he eafy that it is too late, or is he troubled, and wifhes it were not fo? I put the Queftion fairly to Atkins, and he answered with a great deal of Paffion, How could any Man be eafy in a Condition that certain muft end in eternal Deftruction; that he was far from being eafy, but that, on the contrary, he believed it would one Time or other ruin him.

What do you mean by that, faid I? Why? He faid he believ'd he fhould one Time or other cut his Throat to put an End to the Terror of it.

The Clergy-man fhook his Head with a great Concern in his Face, when I told him all this: But

turning

turning quick to me upon it, fays he, If that be his Cafe, you may affure him it is not too late; Christ will give him Repentance: But pray, Says he, explain this to him, That as no Man is fav'd but by Chrift and the Merit of his Paffion, procuring divine Mercy for him, how can it be too late for any Man to receive Mercy? Does he think he is able to fin beyond the Power or Reach of divine Mercy? Pray tell him, there may be a Time when provok'd Mercy will no longer firive, and when God may refufe to hear, but that 'tis never too late for Men to ask Mercy; and we that are Chrift's Servants are commanded to preach Mercy at all Times, in the Name of Jefus Chrift, to all those that fincerely repent; fo that 'tis never too late to repent.

I told Atkins all this, and he heard me with great Earneftnefs; but it feem'd as if he turn'd off the Difcourfe to the reft; for he faid to me he would go and have fome Talk with his Wife; fo he went out a while, and we talk'd to the reft. I perceiv'd they were all ftupidly ignorant as to Matters of Religion; much as I was when I went rambling away from my Father; and yet that there were none of them backward to hear what had been faid; and all of them feriously promis'd, that they would talk with their Wives about it, and do their Endeavour to perfuade them to turn Chriftians.

The Clergy-man fmil'd upon me, when I repor ted what Answer they gave, but faid nothing a good while; but, at last, thaking his Head,We that are Chrift's Servants, fays he, can go no farther than to exhort and inftruct, and when Men comply, fubmit to the Reproof and Promife, what we

M 3

ask

ask 'tis all we can do; we are bound to accept their good Words: But believe me, Sir, faid he, whatever you may have known of the Life of that Man you call Will. Atkins, I believe he is the only fincere Convert among them; I take that Man to be a true Penitent; I wont despair of the reft; but that Man is apparently ftruck with the Senfe of his paft Life; and I doubt not, but when he comes to talk Religion to his Wife, he will talk himself effectually into it; for attempting to teach others, is fometimes the best way of teaching our felves. I knew a Man, who having nothing but a fummary Notion of Religion himself, and being wicked and profligate to the laft Degree in his Life, made a thorough Reformation in himself, by labouring to convert a Jew. If that poor Atkins begins but once to talk seriously of Jefus Chrift to his Wife, my Life for it, he talks himself into a thorough Convert, makeş himself a Penitent: And who knows what may follow?

Upon this Difcourfe however, and their promifing, as above, to endeavour to perfuade their Wives to embrace Chriftianity, he marry'd the other three Couple; but Will. Atkins and his Wife were not yet come in; after this, my Clergy-man, waiting a while, was curious to know where At kins was gone; and, turning to me, fays he, I entreat you, Sir, let us walk out of your Labyrinth here, and look; I dare fay, we fhall find this poor Man fome where or other talking ferioufly to his Wife, and teaching her already fomething of Religion. I began to be of the fame Mind; fo we went out together, and I carry'd him a Way which none knew but myfelf, and where the Trees were fo thick fet, as that it was not easy to fee

thro'

thro' the Thicket of Leaves, and far harder to fee in, than to fee out; when, coming to the Edge of the Wood, I faw Atkins and his tawny Savage Wife fitting under the Shade of a Bufh, very eager in Difcourfe; I ftopp'd fhort 'till my Clergy-man came up to me; and then having fhow'd him where they were, we ftood and look'd very steadily at them a good while.

We obferv'd him very earnest with her, pointing up to the Sun, and to every Quarter of the Hea vens, then down to the Earth, then out to the Sea, then to himself, then to her, to the Woods, to the Trees. Now, fays my Clergy-man, you fee my Words are made good, the Man preaches to her; mark him now, he is telling her, that our God has made him, and her,and the Heavens, the Earth, the Sea, the Woods, the Trees, &c. I believe he is, faid I; immediately we perceiv'd Will. Atkins ftart up upon his Feet, fall down on his Knees, and lift up both his Hands: We fuppofe he faid fomething, but we could not hear him, it was too far for that; he did not continue kneeling half a Minute, but comes and fits down again by his Wife, and talks to her again; we perceiv'd then the Woman very attentive, but whether the faid any thing or no we could not tell; while the poor Fellow was upon his Knees I could fee the Tears run plentifully down my Clergy-man's. Cheeks, and I could hardly forbear my felf; but it was a great Affliction to us both that we were not near enough to hear any Thing that pass'd between them.

Well, however, we could come no nearer for fear of difturbing them, fo we refolv'd to fee an End of this Piece of still Converfation, and it froke

joud enough to us without the Help of Voice. He fat down again, as I have faid, close by her, and talk'd again earneftly to her, and two or three times we could fee him embrace her moft paffionately; another time we faw him take out his Handkerchief and wipe her Eyes, and then kifs her again with a kind of Transport very unusual; and after feveral of thefe Things we fee him, on a fuddain, jump up again and lend her his Hand to help her up, when immediately, leading her by the Hand a Step or two, they both kneel'd down together, and continu'd fo about two Minutes.

My Friend could bear it no longer, but cries out aloud, St. PAUL! St. PAUL! b hold he prayeth; I was afraid Atkins would hear him, therefore I entreated him to with-hold himself a while, that we might fee an End of the Scene, which to me, I muft confefs, was the most affecting, and yet the moft agreeable that ever I faw in my Life: Well, he ftrove with himfelf and contain'd himfelf for a while, but was in fuch Raptures of Joy, to think that the poor Heathen Woman was become a Chriftian, that he was not able to contain himself; he wept feveral times, then throwing up his Hands and croffing his Breaft, faid over feveral Things Ejaculatory and by way of giving God Thanks for fo miraculous a Teftimony of the Succefs of our Endeavours; fome he fpoke foftly, and I could not well hear others audibly, fome in Latin, fome in French; then two or three Times the Tears of Joy would interrupt him, that he could not fpeak at all: But I begg'd that he would compofe himself, and let us more narrowly and fully obferve what was before us, which he did for à Time, and the Scene was not ended there yet; for after the poor Man and his Wife was rifen