kneeled down together, and continued so about two minutes.
My friend could bear it no longer, but cries out aloud, “St. Paul!
St. Paul! behold he prayeth.” I was afraid Atkins would hear him,
therefore I entreated him to withhold himself a while, that we
might see an end of the scene, which to me, I must confess, was the
most affecting that ever I saw in my life. Well, he strove with
himself for a while, but was in such raptures to think that the
poor heathen woman was become a Christian, that he was not able to
contain himself; he wept several times, then throwing up his hands
and crossing his breast, said over several things ejaculatory, and
by the way of giving God thanks for so miraculous a testimony of
the success of our endeavours. Some he spoke softly, and I could
not well hear others; some things he said in Latin, some in French;
then two or three times the tears would interrupt him, that he
could not speak at all; but I begged that he would contain himself,
and let us more narrowly and fully observe what was before us,
which he did for a time, the scene not being near ended yet; for
after the poor man and his wife were risen again from their knees,
we observed he stood talking still eagerly to her, and we observed
her motion, that she was greatly affected with what he said, by her
frequently lifting up her hands, laying her hand to her breast, and
such other postures as express the greatest seriousness and
attention; this continued about half a quarter of an hour, and then
they walked away, so we could see no more of them in that
situation.
I took this interval to say to the clergyman, first, that I was
glad to see the particulars we had both been witnesses to; that,
though I was hard enough of belief in such cases, yet that I began
to think it was all very sincere here, both in the man and his
wife, however ignorant they might both be, and I hoped such a
beginning would yet have a more happy end. “But, my friend,” added
I, “will you give me leave to start one difficulty here? I cannot
tell how to object the least thing against that affectionate
concern which you show for the turning of the poor people from
their paganism to the Christian religion; but how does this comfort
you, while these people are, in your account, out of the pale of
the Catholic Church, without which you believe there is no
salvation? so that you esteem these but heretics, as effectually
lost as the pagans themselves.”
To this he answered, with abundance of candour, thus: “Sir, I am a
Catholic of the Roman Church, and a priest of the order of St.
Benedict, and I embrace all the principles of the Roman faith; but
yet, if you will believe me, and that I do not speak in compliment
to you, or in respect to my circumstances and your civilities; I
say nevertheless, I do not look upon you, who call yourselves
reformed, without some charity. I dare not say (though I know it
is our opinion in general) that you cannot be saved; I will by no
means limit the mercy of Christ so far as think that He cannot
receive you into the bosom of His Church, in a manner to us
unperceivable; and I hope you have the same charity for us: I pray
daily for you being all restored to Christ’s Church, by whatsoever
method He, who is all-wise, is pleased to direct. In the meantime,
surely you will allow it consists with me as a Roman to distinguish
far between a Protestant and a pagan; between one that calls on
Jesus Christ, though in a way which I do not think is according to
the true faith, and a savage or a barbarian, that knows no God, no
Christ, no Redeemer; and if you are not within the pale of the
Catholic Church, we hope you are nearer being restored to it than
those who know nothing of God or of His Church: and I rejoice,