I no makee Him angry--I no do bad wicked thing.
[Here Will Atkins said his heart sunk within him to hear a poor untaught creature desire to be taught to know God, and he such a wicked wretch, that he could not say one word to her about God, but what the reproach of his own carriage would make most irrational to her to believe; nay, that already she had told him that she could not believe in God, because he, that was so wicked, was not destroyed.] _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 in your heart.
_Wife_ .-- Why, then, He know what I say to you now: He know me wish to know Him.

How shall me know who makee me?
_W.A._--Poor creature, He must teach thee: I cannot teach thee.

I will pray to Him to teach thee to know Him, and forgive me, that am unworthy to teach thee.
[The poor fellow was in such an agony at her desiring him to make her know God, and her wishing to know Him, that he said he fell down on his knees before her, and prayed to God to enlighten her mind with the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, and to pardon his sins, and accept of his being the unworthy instrument of instructing her in the principles of religion: after which he sat down by her again, and their dialogue went on.

This was the time when we saw him kneel down and hold up his hands.] _Wife_ .-- What you put down the knee for?
What you hold up the hand for?
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 Him that made me: I said O to Him, as you call it, and as your old men do 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 you hear Him speak?
_W.A._--No, we do not hear Him speak; but He has revealed Himself many ways to us.
[Here he was at a great loss to make her understand that God has revealed Himself to us by His word, and what His word was; but at last he told it to her thus.] _W.A._--God has spoken to some good men in former days, even from heaven, by plain words; and God has inspired good men by His Spirit; 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 I shall one time or other get it for you, and help you to read it.
[Here he embraced her with great affection, but with inexpressible grief that he had not a Bible.] _Wife_ .-- But how you makee me know that God teachee them to write that 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 well as perfectly happy; and because He forbids and commands us to avoid all that is wicked, that is evil in itself, or evil in its consequence.
_Wife_ .-- That me would understand, that me fain see; if He teachee all good thing, He makee all good thing, He give all thing, He hear me when I say O to Him, as you do just now; He makee me good if I wish 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, made her kneel by him, and he prayed to God aloud to instruct her in the knowledge of Himself, by His Spirit; and that by some good providence, if possible, she might, some time or other, come to have a Bible, that she might read the word of God, and be taught by it to know Him.

This was the time that we saw him lift her up by the hand, and saw him kneel down by her, as above.
They had several other discourses, it seems, after this; and particularly she made him promise that, since he confessed his own life had been a wicked, abominable course of provocations against God, that he would reform it, and not make God angry any more, lest He should make him dead, as she called it, and then she would be left alone, and never be taught to know this God better; and lest he should be miserable, as he had told her wicked men would be after death.
This was a strange account, and very affecting to us both, but particularly to the young clergyman; he was, indeed, wonderfully surprised with it, but under the greatest affliction imaginable that he could not talk to her, that he could not speak English to make her understand him; and as she spoke but very broken English, he could not understand her; however, he turned himself to me, and told me that he believed that there must be more to do with this woman than to marry her.
I did not understand him at first; but at length he explained himself, viz.