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,