In the brush : $b or, Old-time social, political, and religious life in the southwestPierson, Hamilton W. (Hamilton Wilcox)
History
In the brush : $b or, Old-time social, political, and religious life in the southwest
Pierson, Hamilton W. (Hamilton Wilcox)
Missions -- Southwest, Old; Southwest, Old -- Social life and customs
I consented to preach again most gladly, and after full consultation
among themselves as to whose house in the neighborhood would hold
the most people, and arrangements had been made for circulating the
notice, they all sat down and listened intently while I read to them
out of the "little book," explaining the portions read as I would
attempt to explain them to an infant-class in a Sabbath-school.
I remember that the great change wrought in themselves and their
neighbors seemed an incomprehensible mystery to them. So, looking out
of the open door of their cabin and down the hill-side, I pointed them
to the tops of the large forest trees that were swaying to and fro in
the wind, and said:
"You see all those trees in motion, but can not see anything moving
them. And yet you know what it is. You know that it is the wind. You
can not see it, but you can hear its sound."
I then opened their "little book" (for I had preferred to read to them
out of their own prized treasure, that they might be sure, after I
was gone, that they had in their possession all that I had read and
explained to them), and read to them the story of the conversation of
Christ with Nicodemus, calling their special attention to the passage:
"The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof,
but canst not tell whence it cometh or whither it goeth. So is every
one that is born of the Spirit."
This passage was apparently new, and made the whole matter wonderfully
clear to them, affording them the most intense pleasure and
satisfaction. So I read, and they listened to these simple comments,
for an hour or more with expressions of the deepest interest, and
would evidently have listened thus for hours. We then all bowed upon
our knees, and, after I had prayed, Mr. Jake G----, at my request,
offered a prayer, such as he offered daily as he assembled his children
around that family altar; a prayer so broken, so humble, so sincere, as
to move the stoutest heart. I wish I could give the whole of it; but I
only remember the first sentence, "O Lord, we bow down to call on thy
name as well as we know how."
I spent the rest of the day with the old man, visiting different
families, and in his own, reading the Bible to them, praying with them,
and listening to their simple details of the wonderful change that
had been wrought among them. Their own statements in regard to the
exceeding ignorance and irreligion of the community corroborated the
accounts I heard of them in all the country around.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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