Chapter IV: Part 4

During the author's stay he accompanied Stanley to various hop-plantations, where great numbers of the most wretched part of the community are employed in the hopping season. Great numbers of tracts were distributed among them, while the author entered into many free and familiar conversations with them. Many were found very much depraved; but none were more depraved among the Gipsies, than many of the other class; for they were blasphemers of God and his religion. One man, like many of old, stirred up the people to reject and despise the truth. He said, "No one would get any thing by praying to God;" and, "if people wanted bread on a Sunday, it would be better for them to steal a mess of potatoes, and wood to cook them with, than go to church." Some of the poor shuddered at his boldness, and contempt of God's law. With much impudence he declared, "that he knew a man who put his dough into the oven on a Sunday without heating it, and then went to church to pray that God would bake it for him; but that the fool was disappointed." The minister said to him--"You know that you have told a wilful lie. You never knew such a man. There is not one of these little children will believe you." He appeared confounded at this unexpected rebuke. May this sinner repent and be saved!

Among the hop-pickers of Farnham were many Gipsies the visitors had long known; and their smiling faces spoke the gladness of their hearts and the warmth of their gratitude, when they were noticed by their friends affectionately and kindly; nor had they forgotten the favours that had been shewn them at Southampton.

Those of the Gipsies who were not acquainted with the object the author had in view, in paying them a visit, were much alarmed when enquiries were made for the Gipsies in the hop-grounds; supposing they were pursued by the magistrates. One youth told Stanley, that he knew not whether to run, or stay where he was; but recollecting to have been _in no spray lately_, he resolved on staying. When Stanley spoke to him in his own language, and introduced the minister, all his fears vanished. The Gipsies were astonished that any one should travel forty miles to see them.

Their public meeting was after the labours of the day, near one of the hop-grounds, about half an hour after sun-set. A few small candles gave light to a small tenement, used as a lodging place for the hop-gatherers, where the congregation was accommodated. A few of the inhabitants of Farnham, and some of the female Gipsies, who were much delighted to mingle with them in the worship of God, were put inside, and the men, with such women and children as could not get in, stood outside, the place being very much too small for so great a number of people. The preacher stood on the threshold of the door and addressed the people, of whom those without could only be seen now and then, as an adjacent wood fire cast at intervals upon them an intermitting light. The Rev. Mr Johnson kindly attended, and assisted in the devotional part of the service; and some of his congregation obligingly assisted in the singing.

On this occasion the Gospel of Christ was addressed to many who had never before heard an exposition of the blessed word of God. The sermon was from Psalm lxxxvi. 5. After service the Gipsies were exhorted to seek for opportunities of attending the house of God; to beg of some minister a bible for every tent; and to ask every one who may come near them to read certain of its pages to them.

During the address, many of _their crimes_ were enlarged upon, and their dread of, and liability to punishment for them in this world; and they were urged to call on the God of all compassion and mercy, for help and for forgiveness, by that all-powerful motive, that he will never be inattentive to the prayers of the most helpless, wretched, and guilty sinner, when presented to God by faith in our only mediator, Jesus Christ.

Stanley, who, after the service, accompanied the Gipsies to their tents, found that the sermon afforded conversation for the whole evening. One of them said, "The minister has told us every thing, as though he had lived with us." Another observed, "If it be all true what the gentleman has said, not a Gipsy can be saved." A third exhorted his children "never to say bad words again." The little creature replied--"Then I hope my _grandfer_ (grandfather) will never swear any more." Many of them talked of the evils of fortune-telling, and some resolved on going to Southampton, to see the reformed Gipsies.

During the stay of the minister in that neighbourhood, eighty of them were visited, among whom was a dying woman, who very gladly received instruction, and heard prayer. A minister, in the neighbourhood, had been asked to visit her, but had neglected to do so.

The author must not forget to acknowledge the kindness of the farmers who assisted him in the distribution of tracts, &c. &c., and who solicited that some might be left them for that purpose.

This visit afforded an opportunity to contradict many false reports of the treatment with which the Gipsy children had met in the Infants' Schools at Southampton. It was said that they were all confined, and would at a future period be transported. This shews how easily people who deceive others, are imposed on themselves.

The following letter was addressed to the author by a Gipsy woman when she was in great trouble of mind. It is presented to the reader just as it was received, and may be found interesting to the friends of their cause.

"Sir,

"I Hope you will Excuse Me for Riun These few Lines too you, I did
Not Now where To Cend to My Sister, I Have Been very Il and my
Familee. My Children Ave Had The Measils, They are Got Well from
That. I am Sorry to hinform you I Have Had A Shockin Accedent To my
Little Girl, She was Burnd to Death. I Give My Luv To My Son Job.
Plese to Give My Luv to My Sister Paishince, and Hur Childern. Plese
to Give My Luv To My Ant Pheny, and Plese to Lett Me Now How My Cuzin
James doos Go on, Plese to Lett Me Now How My Unkil Charls and His
Famly Is. Wm Duff Gives His Best Rispecs To All. Plese To Tel My
Sister too Anser This Letter By Returne of Post. I Am So unappy in
My Mind Till I Do Hear From Er. Dear Sister, I Have Mett With so
Much Trubel Sinc I Saw you Last, That I Am Sorre To inform you.
Plese to Tel my Child from Me To Bee A Good Boy, and Think Imself Wel
off Wher He Is. My Distris and My Trubel Makes Me Think More of My
Sister. Ples To Direct the Letter To Be Left At The Post Offis, for
Haryett Duff, Till Caulld for, in Bristil. Plese To Give My Luv To
My Son Job. So No More At Prezint from your Umble Sarvint. Plese
God I Am Coming To See You Some time This Munth.

"My Littel Girl Met The Accedent Wednesday, April 23, 1828."

The following letter, too, refers to the writer of the above.

_Bristol_, _August_, 1830.

"My dear Sir,

"As I know that you are deeply interested in every circumstance
relating to the Gipsies, I trouble you with the following anecdote.
In the month of January last, when walking in the city of Bristol, I
met a Gipsy woman, who accosted me with the usual salutation of her
race, "Shall I tell you your fortune?" I enquired her name, and then
said, "You well know that you are not able to tell me my fortune; and
I am sorry to see you carrying on such deception." I then
endeavoured to speak to her about the importance of considering her
eternal welfare, and of seeking the salvation which is in Christ
Jesus; at the same time pointing out the certain condemnation she was
bringing upon herself, by willingly following the _multitude to do
evil_, even carrying _a lie in her right hand_. She urged that her
trade (which she acknowledged to be built on deceit and falsehood)
was her only support; and that she must starve if she followed my
advice. I reminded her that she would be like Dives, if she gained
the whole world and lost her own soul; but that were she indeed to
honour God, by giving up her wicked trade, because she knew that it
was displeasing to him, he would never suffer her to want any good
thing. After much more conversation, she assured me that she would
never tell fortunes again, and would discontinue her evil habits of
life. I told her that I could not allow her to make to me any
promise of the kind; for she did not know her wickedness, nor the
power which could alone prevent her from committing sin. I again
besought her to avail herself of the means of instruction within her
power.

Before leaving the city, I commended her to the care of some pious
friends, who were interested in my account of her, and who kindly
promised not to lose sight of her. Since that time I have received
very pleasing accounts from them respecting her. They have purchased
materials in order that she may be able to support herself by
basket-making, which she has begun; and I trust she has relinquished
her former trade. She is making progress in reading, and constantly
attends the preaching of the Gospel. I hope also that she is really
in earnest for the welfare of her soul. I earnestly wish that every
one would take an interest in the same; and I should be much rejoiced
if the circumstance which I have just mentioned, should be the means
of encouraging any one to notice those Gipsies with whom they may
occasionally meet, and to exert themselves in saving them from their
present degraded condition.

"I am, my dear Sir,
"Yours respectfully,
* * * * *

_Wm. Stanley's Letter to the Author_.

"Hon. Sir,

"As you wish me to give you some account of the Gipsies, I gladly
comply with your request. I am a poor individual of that wandering
race, called Gipsies; yet, by the mercies of God, I was _rescued_
from that wandering life. In my _youthful days_ I entered into the
Wiltshire militia, when it pleased God to bring me under the
preaching of the Gospel at Exeter; and it was the means of awakening
my conscience. _From that time I have often been led to bepity the
sad state of the people whereof I made a part_. I have given them
the best instruction that lay in my power, and by reading the
Scriptures to them; but with very little visible effect for many
years. Neither did I think, till lately, that there were any of them
in the world, that cared for their souls, till the year 1827; when I
was quite _overcome with love to God_, _to find that the Lord had put
it into the hearts of his dear people at Southampton_, _to pity them
in their forlorn condition_; and now wonder not if I am at a loss for
words to speak the feeling of my heart; for, since that time I have
seen _seventeen or eighteen_; _nay_, _from twenty to thirty_; _nay_,
_from forty to fifty attend divine worship_; and _add_ to this the
many happy hours I have spent with them in their tents near
Southampton, in reading and praying with them; and some of them that
six months ago would not stay in their camp on my approach to them,
but would go away swearing, will now receive me gladly, and produce a
Bible or a Testament, which _had_ been given to them, and desire me
to read it to them, saying, this book was given to me by our dear
friends in Southampton. But, _dreadful to relate_, I find some
children, _from three years old to fifteen_, who never _said a prayer
to their God_; who never heard any one pray, and who _was_ never in a
church or chapel, nor have heard of the name of Christ, but in
blaspheming; and these are the inhabitants of England! Oh, England!
England! they are living and dying without God: no wonder if they
draw down the divine vengeance of Heaven on the land!

"Many of these poor _ignorant mortals_ do not know that they are
doing wrong by fortune-telling; and being informed that it is
displeasing to God, and ruinous to their own souls, they will say, it
is _of no service for me to give attendance to religion_, for I am
forced to ruin my soul for every morsel of bread I eat; but if God
spares my life I will leave it off as soon as I can; while others who
are both ignorant and hardened in their crimes, have told me it was
the gift of God to them, by which they were to gain their living.
Surely they call _darkness light_! Many of my people who join in
talk with me, declare, that if the Bible which I read to them be
true, there cannot be many saved. But they say that a reformation is
needful, and this is promised by them; and I am in great hopes that
the time is at hand. Oh, Lord! work for thine own glory, and stir up
the minds of thy people in all parts of the land, that they may help
forward this good work amongst these poor wanderers!

"Their ignorance and their crimes seem to have increased of late
years. When I was a boy, I well recollect their parting expressions,
which _was_ so common amongst them--_Artmee Devillesty_, which
is--_God bless you_. But now it is _truly awful_; it is _darkness
itself_, _for they now ask God to send them good luck_ in their
crimes. I _myself_ thought for many years, _till __I heard the
Gospel_, _that God was like some great gentleman_, _living at a great
distance from us_; but I had not a thought that he was every where
present to notice the conduct of his creatures, or to hear prayer.
The ignorance of _my people_ is a loud call to Christians to assist;
and, blessed be God, they find that assistance in Southampton. The
Bible has often been taken away from Southampton in the Gipsies'
pack, and I have seen it when they have returned, preserved with a
great deal of care, and produced for me to read, with great delight
on their part.

"Surely this blessed book will not be idle, but will do _wonders_
amongst them, _through God's grace_. I see the effects already; do
you say, how? I answer, _Was it ever known_, _till now_, that
Gipsies assembled on the sabbath day on the common and in the lanes
for divine worship? Did you ever see them come to town on a sabbath
day in such great numbers as they now do, when encamping near
Southampton? Some of the most ignorant of them are now learning to
read the Scriptures. This is the beginning of good days. Oh! the
good this will do to _my people at large_! Nothing of importance
took place in their camp all last summer, _and I almost fainted under
the discouragement_; but of late _it shows another face_; and I make
no doubt but it will spread, and I shall soon see greater things than
these.

I am, hon. Sir,
Your most obliged and humble Servant,
WILLIAM STANLEY."

"P. S.--On examining the different _branches of my family_, I find
upwards of 200 of us in different parts of England."

This poor man, when a soldier, and in the habit of attending divine service, as a part of his duty, often heard his comrades speak of the text, on their return to the barracks. He one day made up his mind to bring home the text also, the next time he went to church. He heard with attention, and when he returned to the barracks, he said, "I've got the text now." "What is it, Stanley?" he was asked by a comrade, when he answered, "The 19th day of the month, and the 95th Psalm." When relating this to the author, he added, "I had the mortification to be laughed at by all my comrades who witnessed my ignorance." Do not many professing Christians come away from the house of God as ignorant as this poor Gipsy? Or if they have been taught to know and remember the text, it is all they attend to. This man's mind did not long remain in this dark state. After the above event he learned to read, and one day, taking up a Testament from the barracks' table, he read a portion of it, (for so he expressed himself) _The sublimity of the language struck his mind with astonishment_, and he said, _I will buy that book if I can_. His comrade asked him three halfpence for it; and he was glad of his purchase; although the Testament was very much torn. The Holy Scriptures were scarce in those days, a copy of which could seldom be bought by the poor; nor, indeed, would the word of life have been useful to them, as not one in a hundred could read.

Soon after this, he was invited to attend a Wesleyan chapel in Exeter, where a funeral sermon was to be preached by the Rev. Wm. Aver. The text was, _Let me die the death of the righteous_, _and let my last end be like his_. While the minister was describing the happiness of the righteous, divine light shone upon his soul, he felt that _he_ was not that character, and that there was no prospect of his dying happily, unless he possessed it. This sermon was the means of his conversion.

CHAP. XIV. Interesting particulars of the Gipsies, related by a Clergyman.

The following account is selected from a tract published in York, in 1822, detailing several interesting visits that a Yorkshire clergyman made to some of the camps of that wandering and neglected people. Were the author of the little book known, application would have been made to him, for permission to reprint these extracts. But it is hoped he will excuse the liberty taken, as the design is to _induce other clergymen and ministers to go and do likewise_. This clergyman, having fallen in with a gang of Gipsies on the road, who were travelling to their place of encampment, addressed a young female among them, and found her not ignorant of religion. "How," said the clergyman, "did you obtain the knowledge of religion?" "Sir," answered she, "in the depth of winter, the men folks only travel; the women and children belonging to my family and party, always live in the town. In those seasons I have gone with some of our relatives, who live there, and are religious people, to the worship of God: in that way I have learned these things."

"This was a practical comment on the text which says, _The entrance of the word giveth light_; _it giveth __understanding to the simple_. After giving her some suitable advice, and with it his benediction, he left her; but not without hopeful expectations that the seeds of grace were sown in her heart.

"He next overtook the grandmother and several of her grandchildren. She was pleased at his noticing her, and answered his enquiries with modesty and propriety. She corroborated what her daughter had said, and in her answers discovered not only an acquaintance with the general truths of the Gospel, but a feeling sense of their importance. She said, 'I love to go to church, and do go _now_, sir, when I can; but do not always meet with the right doctrines: my prayers I offer up night and morning, under the hedge. I hope God Almighty hears my prayers.' The clergyman observed, that sincere prayer was acceptable to God any where, equally under the hedge, as in the parlour, or in the church. When arrived at their camp, he promised them a Bible, as they had none, and directed some of the party to call at the friend's house in the neighbourhood where he was staying. Soon after his return thither, a knock was heard at the door, when it was announced, 'Two Gipsies, sir, are come for a Bible.' On going out, he found in the hall the young man who could read, and a younger brother, a fine boy of about fourteen years of age." The gentleman who wrote the account, adds as follows:--

"Their countenances were very animated and expressive; there seemed to be a ray of heavenly brightness resting upon them; and while I gave them a charge how to read the sacred gift, they were much affected: the boy, in particular, listened with eager attention, fixing his eyes first on me, then on the Bible. After I had inscribed their names in the title-page, they departed with my blessing; and what is better--with the blessing of God."

At another part of the year, this clergyman returned to the same spot where he had before been so delightfully engaged in attempting to benefit the poor Gipsies. He found out another camp, and thus writes of them.

"On my approach to the camp (where was a group of nearly naked children,) the Gipsy girls rose up, and, in a modest and respectful manner, answered my questions; while the little swarthy group of children gathered around me. To one of these girls I said, 'How is it that you bear such a wandering and exposed life?' In reply, she said, 'Sir, it is _use_; _use_ is second nature.' 'But have you any religion? Do you think about God, about judgment, and eternity? Do you know how to pray?' She answered, 'I say my prayers, sir, night and morning.' I then said, 'can any of your people read?' 'Yes, sir,' she replied, 'one of our men that is not here, can read very well.' 'Have you a Bible among you?' 'No, sir; we should be thankful for one, sir.'"

On leaving the camp, the clergyman promised to call on them again, when the other part of the family should be returned from the town, where they were gone to vend their wares.

"On my return to the encampment," says he, "I was met by two men who came out to greet me. I asked them kindly of their names. They informed me it was Bosvill. The women and children were now collected around me. I inquired who among them could read. Captain Bosvill, for so I called him, answered me, 'My wife, sir, can read any thing in English.' I was glad to hear this, and asked them if they had any books. Bosvill went to a package and brought forth his stock, fragments of an old Testament, and an old spelling-book. 'And what use do you make of your spelling book?' asked I. 'My wife,' replied Bosvill, 'when she has time, teaches the children their letters.' I now shewed them the Bible I had in my pocket, saying, that as it was so holy and blessed a book, it ought not to be given in an indifferent and common manner; and asked, if I were to ride over in the evening to give it them, and to explain to them its use, whether they would be all together to hear me. 'Yes, yes;' was the reply, from many voices. I appointed seven o'clock for the purpose. I then distributed amongst them some tracts, containing passages for every day in the week, and also the tract of Short Sermons; for which they were very thankful. I told them that I intended to give them a Bible in the evening, a book which few of them had ever seen, and which fewer understood. I was pleased with the modesty of their deportment, and with their eagerness for instruction. Surely they are a people whose hearts the Lord has prepared for the reception of his word.

"At the hour appointed, I put the Bible in my pocket, and rode again to the camp. The evening was particularly fine: the sun, hidden behind some thick fleecy clouds, had thrown around a mild and pleasing tint; the birds were every where singing their evening song; the ploughman was 'whistling o'er the lea;' and nature, after the labours of the day, was preparing for her wonted rest. It was a fit time for meditation, prayer, and praise. Such an evening, perhaps, as that which led the patriarch of old to meditation, when he lifted up his eyes and saw the returning servants of his father bringing home his future wife. As I drew near to the camp, I began to revolve in my mind the best way of making them acquainted with the importance of the most essential doctrines contained in the holy book I was about to give them. On my arrival, I found that I had been long expected. The men, however, were not there; they were gone to water a horse, which they had lent all the day to a farmer; but a tawny girl ran with great speed, barefooted, and brought them to the camp. I now dismounted, and gave my horse, with my stick, to the care of one of the men. The family circle was formed into an irregular circle round some pale embers, some of them sitting cross-legged on the grass, and others standing. I placed myself so as to have the women and children chiefly before me. The woman who could read, was seated opposite me: the men, the tents, and the package to the right; while the horses and asses belonging to the tribe, were quietly grazing at a short distance in the lane. All was solemn stillness; all was attentive expectation. As I took from my pocket the Bible, the eyes of the whole company were instantly fixed upon it. This book, said I, which I bring you, is the book of God; it is sent from heaven to make poor miserable and dying man happy. I then spoke a short time on God; on creation; how God created man upright; how he was once happy in paradise; the way in which he sinned, and broke the law of his Maker, and became guilty, polluted, and exposed to death and hell; that to save men from this dreadful state, God devised a plan of mercy; that he sent his Son, and the Scriptures of truth, which shew unto us the way of salvation. This was something of the outline of my lecture; but I added the responsibility of men to read the book, and to seek to understand it. I solemnly charged them, by the sacred book itself, and by the account which they, at the day of judgment, must give to God for it, to make the most sacred and constant use of it, by reading it together daily in their camp. In the course of my discourse, I stopped, and said,--'Now do you understand what I say?' Captain Bosvill's wife replied, 'We understand you, sir; but we have not the same words which you have.' In conclusion, I spoke of the coming judgment, when they and all men must stand and be judged at the righteous bar of God. The Bible was then delivered to the care of the captain of the gang, and of his wife, the woman who could read.

"Now, I said, let us all kneel down on the grass, and pray for God's blessing with this holy book. Instantly a female brought from her tent a small piece of carpet, and spread it before me on the grass, for me to kneel upon; and then all kneeling down, I prayed that the minds of these miserable outcasts of society might be enlightened, to discover the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the blessedness and efficiency of the Saviour; that the sacred book given them through the influence of the Holy Ghost, might lead them into the way of righteousness, and finally guide them to everlasting life. When we rose from our knees, gratitude was seen in every countenance, and expressed by every tongue. '_God bless you_, _sir_; _thank you_, _sir_;' echoed throughout the camp."

The next evening this clergyman went again to the camp, when one of the Gipsies came to meet him, and informed him of the arrival of some of their relatives. "I shook hands with them," says the clergyman, "and asked of their welfare. Never was a king received with a more hearty welcome, or with greater attention and respect.

"As I was expected, the utmost order, cleanliness, and quiet, prevailed throughout the camp; and all were dressed in their best clothes to receive me. The arrangement of my congregation was much the same as the preceding evening. I spoke to them of the blessed Jesus; his birth, his ministry, his death, passion, and grace; and his glory at his second coming _in the clouds of heaven_, _to judge the world in righteousness_. I spoke also of death, and of the immortality of the soul.

"I had not proceeded far in my lecture, before several farmers and passengers, some on horse back, and others on foot, joined my congregation.

"Before concluding my address, I said, 'It may seem singular to some of you that a stranger should interest himself on your behalf in the way I have done; and it might be expected that I should give some reasons for doing as I have. My chief reason is a sense of duty. Gipsies have long been neglected, and left to perish in their sins; but Gipsies have souls equally precious as others, and of equal price in the sight of God. Who, I asked, cares for the souls of Gipsies? who uses means for their instruction in righteousness? Yet must it be equally our duty to care for them, and to endeavour their conversion and happiness, as to plan societies, obtain subscriptions, and send out missionaries to the heathen.'

"I said, moreover, that, 'supposing, when I first saw your camp, I had rode by you on the other side, and taken no notice of you, nor felt an interest in your welfare; and after that, had met you at the bar of judgment; what would have been the language with which you might have addressed me at that awful period? Might you not have charged the misery of your eternal condemnation upon me, and said, The curse we are doomed to bear, thoughtless man, might, perchance, have been prevented by you? You saw us when riding by our camp lying in ignorance, and unbelief: you might have rode up to us, and imparted instruction to our perishing souls; because to you were committed the oracles of God, and you knew the way to heaven. But, no, _cruel man_, our state excited in you no compassion, or desire for our salvation. In your conduct there was no imitation of your Lord and Master. Go, cruel man, and if heaven you enter, let your felicity be embittered by the recollection of neglect to the Gipsy wanderers, whom Providence had placed in your way, that you might direct them to God, but which you neglected.' In conclusion, I again referred to the holy Bible, which I had given them; and again repeated the way to use it. After which I said, Now we will conclude with prayer, as we did last evening. Immediately the same female who before brought the carpet, again spread it, with great civility, for me to kneel upon; and again I offered up a solemn prayer for the salvation of these lost and perishing mortals. The greatest seriousness and awe rested upon the assembly. Surely the prayer was registered in heaven, and shall, in time not far distant, be answered.--Come, and take these heathens for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession.--When I proposed to take leave of my swarthy flock, it was not without feelings of attachment on both sides. I had observed several of them much affected under my discourse, and now they manifested it more openly. As I shook hands with them, I said, 'You see, I did not come among you to give you money. I considered religious instruction of the most value; therefore I have endeavoured to impart it.' 'Sir,' replied several, 'we did not want your money; your instruction is better to us than money; and we thank you for coming.' The camp now resounded with voices, saying, 'Thank you, sir; God bless you, sir;' and every countenance seemed to glow with gratitude. The young branches of the family seemed to think a great honour and blessing had been conferred upon them.

"As I mounted my pony to come away, I observed one of the females, a fine young woman about twenty-five years of age, the same that brought the carpet from the package, and spread on the grass for me to kneel upon, to retire from the rest. She walked slowly near to the hedge, and appeared evidently much distressed. Her expressive eyes were lifted up to heaven, while the big tears rolling down her cheeks, were wiped away with her long black tresses. I thought--Here, surely, are some of the first fruits!--Thus did the woman, who was a sinner, weep, and with her hair wipe away the tears from the feet of her Saviour. May those tears be as acceptable to God: may the same Redeemer bid her go in peace! Her conduct attracted the notice of her family, and she was asked the reason of her sorrow. At first she could scarcely speak; but at length exclaimed, 'Oh! I am a sinner!' Then lifting up her eyes to heaven, she wept aloud, and again wiped away the falling tears with her hair. 'But did you not know that before? we are all sinners. What have you done to cause you so much distress?' She made no reply, but shook her head and wept."

The author of the GIPSIES' ADVOCATE, who, for the encouragement of his readers, has embodied the above interesting paragraphs in his work, sincerely hopes and prays that all ministers of Christ will, ere long, be led to imitate this clergyman in his benevolent and Christian attempts to benefit by the influence of religion and the word of God, the lost, and ignorant, and miserable, and perishing among mankind.

CHAP. XV. Interesting visits to Gipsy camps, including an Anecdote of his late beloved MAJESTY, GEORGE THE THIRD.

The following account is extracted from the Home Missionary Magazine for June, 1823.

_March_, 1823. "Sir,

"If the following facts should afford any encouragement to the benevolent intentions of the Home Missionary Society, which has, for one of its objects, the improvement of the state of the _poor Gipsies_, my end in relating them will be amply answered.

"On Saturday evening, in the month of October, the narrator followed several Gipsy families. Being arrived at the place of their encampment, his first object was to gain their confidence. This was accomplished; after which, to amuse their unexpected visitant, they shewed forth their night diversions in music and dancing; likewise the means by which they obtained their livelihood, such as tinkering, fortune-telling, and conjuring. That the narrator might be satisfied whether he had obtained their confidence or not, he represented his dangerous situation, in the midst of which, they all with one voice cried, 'Sir, we would kiss your feet, rather than hurt you!' After manifesting a confidence in return, the master of this formidable gang, about forty in number, was challenged by the narrator for a conjuring match. The challenge was instantly accepted. The Gipsies placed themselves in the circular form, and both being in the middle, commenced with their conjuring powers to the best advantage. At last the narrator proposed the making of something out of nothing. This proposal was accepted. A stone which never existed, was to be created, and appear in a certain form in the middle of a circle made on the turf. The master of the gang commenced, and after much stamping with his foot, and the narrator warmly exhorting him to cry aloud; like the roaring of a lion, he endeavoured to call forth nonentity into existence. Asking him if he could do it? he answered, 'I am not strong enough.' They were all asked the same question, which received the same answer. The narrator commenced. Every eye was fixed upon him, eager to behold this unheard-of exploit; but (and not to be wondered at,) he failed!--telling them, he possessed no more power to _create_ than themselves. Perceiving the thought of insufficiency pervading their minds, he thus spoke:--"Now, if you have not power to create a poor little stone, and if I have not power either; what must that power be, which made the whole world out of nothing?--men, women, and children! that power I call God Almighty."

The night's diversion having received a change, the golden moment was eagerly seized to impress on their minds the infinite power, holiness, and justice of their Creator. This being done, the origin of sin, and the immortality of the soul, were, in the second place, impressed on their minds. Then followed the awful effects of sin, and the soul's eternal punishment in hell, because of offending this great God, whose holiness could not look on sin, and whose justice would punish it. Representing the soul's eternal punishment by the wrath of an incensed God, never did the preacher before witness such an effect; the poor Gipsies, with tremulous voice, crying, '_Did you ever hear the like_! _ What ever shall we do_?' These expressions gave new energies to the preacher, and still brighter hopes of a good effect. Going on with the awful representation, and in the act of turning, as if to leave them, he bade them the long farewell. 'Never, never more to meet till we meet in hell! Oh! what a dreadful thing it is, my fellow-sinners, that we have to part in this world with the thought of meeting in an eternal world of pains, never to see God! never to see heaven! never to see any thing to comfort our poor souls! Oh! we are lost, lost, poor souls, we are lost for ever!--farewell!' In the act of leaving them, these poor creatures cried, 'Not yet, Sir, not yet.' Now was the glorious moment come, which the preacher eagerly anticipated of proclaiming the glad tidings of salvation through a crucified Saviour. Asking how long they would stand to hear the way of escape from the wrath to come, they instantly lifted up their voices, answering, 'All night, Sir, all night.' Then the preacher, without much persuasion, exhibited a Saviour, in all his sufferings, merits, death, and glory. They were sorry that such a good being should suffer so much; but the preacher took care to show the absolute necessity of his sufferings. Their manner bespoke an imperfect idea of a substitute. This was soon made clear to their understandings by comparisons, when the master of the gang cried, 'I see it, I see it!' He was asked what he saw? 'I see Jesus Christ getting between us and God, and satisfying our great God's justice by dying instead of us.' This truly made the preacher's heart glad, seeing the great plan of salvation was so clearly understood by those who declared (although in a land of light,) they never heard of Jesus Christ before.

"The preacher sang the hymn:--

"How condescending, and how kind
Was God's eternal Son, &c,"

and then ended with prayer. They solicited him to return on the sabbath morning; he did so, and, as he hopes, under the influence of the Holy Spirit. The master gratefully accepted of a bible; for though the Gipsies could not read, a little boy was among them, who was not a Gipsy, that could read remarkably well, having been taught at a Sunday school at Hastings, in Sussex. They all joyfully anticipated the pleasure of going to the Rev. J. Carter's Chapel, of Braintree, in the afternoon, but met with a disappointment, arising from an unexpected decampment. About one month after, in the latter end of November, two Gipsy women called on the narrator, earnestly entreating him to go and preach to them, which they called conversation. Asking the reason, why they entreated this favour? their answer was, 'We have heard much about your conversation, sir, and we should like to hear it. Come, do come, and we will be all ready to receive you.' Asking who they were that told them of the conversation just mentioned, they said, 'some of our people, Sir, that you were with about a month since. They told us a great deal about your conversation, and we should so much like to hear it. Oh! sir, do come to us poor creatures, for we have an invitation for you, if you would condescend to take it, to meet with the Gipsies on Christmas day.' That night, the narrator walked a few miles to their camp, and in their smoky tent preached Jesus Christ the only way of salvation, to these poor, despised, neglected creatures. After being with them two hours and a half, he bade them farewell, and going behind a hedge, anxious to know what effect the new unheard of doctrines would produce on their minds, he listened for a short time. In the midst of conversation with each other, one of them said, 'Well, I know this, if I could get a house near where that gentleman lives, and could live by my business, I would send all my children to that school there, and hear him as long as ever I could live.' While they were conversing about Adam and Eve, and the evil effects of sinning against God; one of the women said, 'However, you see, all the punishment that us women get, is sorrow and pains in child-bearing.' 'Stop, stop,' says one of the men, 'that won't do, Ann, that won't do. If sorrow and pains in child-bearing be all the punishment that women are to have, what punishment must those women have that do not bear children? You are quite wrong, Ann; you women are as bad as _us_.' This led on to a further discovery, and the conversation among themselves was truly interesting.

"One of the children telling a lie, the mother touched it on the head, saying, 'What are you telling lies about? Have you forgotten what the gentleman said to night? You will go to hell, if you tell any more lies. Let me never hear you tell another, you bad lad, for God will not take you to heaven.'

"These, and several remarks about Jesus Christ, afforded no small pleasure to the preacher, and he hopes that these facts will afford no small encouragement to the Home Missionary Society.

"Your very humble
Servant,
"J. H. C."

Before the author relates one of the most extraordinary anecdotes with which he is acquainted, one, of which a King and a dying Gipsy are the characters, he will relate another interesting account of a visit to a Gipsy camp, which will, it is hoped, prove that such visits are not in vain, when made in dependence on the Divine blessing. A Gipsy, in great distress of mind, and with weeping eyes, came to inform him of one of their people, who was in great anguish of mind, and entreated him to visit them at the camp, which was several miles distant. The request was gladly complied with. On arriving at the tent, he found a woman sitting in a melancholy attitude on the ground; and distress and anguish were strongly marked in her countenance. She appeared quite indifferent to any thing that was said; and kept herself apparently engaged with the sticks and brands around the fire near the mouth of the tent. The man also appeared very melancholy. We learned that the cause of their distress was jealousy on the part of the man, who was called her husband. The circumstance which gave rise to those unhappy feelings had taken place several years before; yet the poor man has been so unhappy, that he has often intended to destroy both himself and his wife; and not many days before this visit to the camp, he had threatened to execute his purpose. The author talked and prayed with him, and exhorted him to look to God for strength and grace. Their repeated conversations were made useful to him, and those miserable feelings were subdued, and he now lives happily with the woman he had before hated, even to an intention of murder. This is another evidence, although a distressing one, that a want of chastity is evil in their sight.

"A king of England, of happy memory, who loved his people and his God, better than kings in general are wont to do, occasionally took the exercise of hunting. Being out one day for this purpose, the chase lay through the shrubs of the forest. The stag had been hard run; and, to escape the dogs, had crossed the river in a deep part. As the dogs could not be brought to follow, it became necessary, in order to come up with it, to make a circuitous route along the banks of the river, through some thick and troublesome underwood. The roughness of the ground, the long grass and frequent thickets, gave opportunity for the sportsmen to separate from each other; each one endeavouring to make the best and speediest route he could. Before they had reached the end of the forest, the king's horse manifested signs of fatigue and uneasiness; so much so, that his Majesty resolved upon yielding the pleasures of the chase to those of compassion for his horse. With this view, he turned down the first avenue in the forest, and determined on riding gently to the oaks, there to wait for some of his attendants. His Majesty had only proceeded a few yards, when, instead of the cry of the hounds, he fancied he heard the cry of human distress. As he rode forward, he heard it more distinctly. 'Oh, my mother! my mother! God pity and bless my poor mother!' The curiosity and kindness of the king led him instantly to the spot. It was a little green plot on one side of the forest, where was spread on the grass, under a branching oak, a little pallet, half covered with a kind of tent; and a basket or two, with some packs, lay on the ground at a few paces distant from the tent. Near to the root of the tree he observed a little swarthy girl, about eight years of age, on her knees, praying, while her little black eyes ran down with tears. Distress of any kind was always relieved by his Majesty, for he had a heart which melted at 'human woe;' nor was it unaffected on this occasion. And now he inquired, 'What, my child, is the cause of your weeping? For what do you pray?' The little creature at first started, then rose from her knees, and pointing to the tent, said, 'Oh, sir! my dying mother!' 'What?' said his Majesty, dismounting, and fastening his horse up to the branches of the oak, 'what, my child? tell me all about it.' The little creature now led the King to the tent:--there lay, partly covered, a middle-aged female Gipsy, in the last stages of a decline, and in the last moments of life. She turned her dying eyes expressively to the royal visitor, then looked up to heaven; but not a word did she utter; the organs of speech had ceased their office; _the silver cord was loosed_, _and the wheel broken at the cistern_. The little girl then wept aloud, and, stooping down, wiped the dying sweat from her mother's face. The King, much affected, asked the child her name, and of her family; and how long her mother had been ill. Just at that moment another Gipsy girl, much older, came, out of breath, to the spot. She had been at the town of W---, and had brought some medicine for her dying mother. Observing a stranger, she modestly courtsied, and, hastening to her mother, knelt down by her side, kissed her pallid lips, and burst into tears. 'What, my dear child,' said his Majesty, 'can be done for you?' 'Oh, sir!' she replied, 'my dying mother wanted a religious person to teach her, and to pray with her, before she died. I ran all the way before it was light this morning to W---, and asked for a minister, _but no one could I get to come with me to pray with my dear mother_!' The dying woman seemed sensible of what her daughter was saying, and her countenance was much agitated. The air was again rent with the cries of the distressed daughters. The King, full of kindness, instantly endeavoured to comfort them: he said, 'I am a minister, and God has sent me to instruct and comfort your mother.' He then sat down on a pack, by the side of the pallet, and taking the hand of the dying Gipsy, discoursed on the demerit of sin, and the nature of redemption. He then pointed her to Christ, the all sufficient Saviour. While the King was doing this, the poor creature seemed to gather consolation and hope: her eyes sparkled with brightness, and her countenance became animated. She looked up; she smiled; but it was the last smile; it was the glimmering of expiring nature. As the expression of peace, however, remained strong in her countenance, it was not till some little time had elapsed, that they perceived the struggling spirit had left mortality.

"It was at this moment that some of his Majesty's attendants, who had missed him at the chase, and who had been riding through the forest in search of him, rode up, and found the King comforting the afflicted Gipsies. It was an affecting sight, and worthy of everlasting record in the annals of kings.

"His Majesty now rose up, put some gold into the hands of the afflicted girls, promised them his protection, and bade them look to heaven. He then wiped the tears from his eyes, and mounted his horse. His attendants, greatly affected, stood in silent admiration. Lord L--- was now going to speak, when his Majesty, turning to the Gipsies, and pointing to the breathless corpse, and to the weeping girls, said, with strong emotion, 'Who, my lord, who, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto these?'"

CHAP. XVI. Further interesting Correspondence.

"Dear Sir,

"In answer to your inquiries, I have to say, that within my
knowledge, little or nothing has as yet been accomplished for the
Gipsies. The Home Missionaries have frequently paid flying visits to
their camps, and prayed, read, preached and distributed tracts. In
all cases they have been treated with much respect, and their labour
has been repaid with the most sincere marks of gratitude. But I
never met with very warm support in carrying on this object, but was
often exposed to some sarcastical insinuations or sardonic smiles
from those who thought the attempt to ameliorate the condition of the
Gipsies, only Quixotic.

"I think their wandering life is one very great impediment in the way
of improving the Gipsy tribes, and yet they are so attached to it,
that, when taken into families, as servants, they will not stay. Nor
can any good be done to their children; for, like all wild people,
the parents are attached to them to a fault; so that they cannot
allow them to be absent from them even to enjoy the instruction of a
school, suspecting that such a separation might end in their final
disunion.

"Were a distinct society formed to effect a reformation among the
Gipsies, many of the nobility, and other classes of the higher
orders, would no doubt subscribe. There is a feeling among them on
the subject, and many times the formation of a society has been on
the tapis. The Gipsies are singularly attached to the Establishment,
and many of them are married at the parish churches; and it is a pity
the episcopalian body have not taken them up. There is a prejudice
against them which I think is unfounded; but I cannot enter into
details in a mere letter. People look on them as vagabonds, and
_they_ seem shy in return; and hence they continue a kind of outcast
body in a civilized country.

"If any further steps are taken, and if I can in any way assist in
promoting your good object, you may command my services.

"I am, dear sir, respectfully yours,

"I. COBBIN."

_Extracts from the Letter of a Clergyman's Lady_.

"Sir,