The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 1, August, 1834Various
General
The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 1, August, 1834
Various
American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals
"Thirty-and-two years has my dwelling been in this forest. Hitherto, no
man of God hath visited us. Praised be his name, who hath put it into
thy heart, to seek out these few sheep in the wilderness. Secluded as
we are, from the privilege of worshipping God in his temple, we thus
assemble every Sabbath, to read his holy Book, and to pray unto him in
the words of our liturgy. Thus have we been preserved from 'forgetting
the Lord who bought us, and lightly esteeming the Rock of our
Salvation.'"
The exercises of that day are indelibly engraven on my memory. Are they
not written in the record of the Most High? Surely a blessing entered
into my own soul, as I beheld the faith, and strengthened the hope of
those true-hearted and devout disciples. Like him, whose slumbers at
Bethel were visited by the white-winged company of heaven, I was
constrained to say,--"Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it
not."
At the request of the Patriarch, I administered the ordinance of
baptism. It was received with affecting demonstrations of solemnity and
gratitude. The sacred services were protracted until the setting of the
sun. Still they seemed reluctant to depart. It was to them a high and
rare festival. When about to separate, the venerable Patriarch
introduced me to all his posterity. Each seemed anxious to press my
hand; and even the children expressed, by affectionate glances, their
reverence and love for him who ministered at the altar of God.
"The Almighty," said the ancient man, "hath smiled on these babes, born
in the desert. I came hither with my sons and their companions, and
their blessed mother, who hath gone to rest. God hath given us families
as a flock. We earn our bread with toil and in patience. For the
intervals of labor we have a school, where our little ones gain the
rudiments of knowledge. Our only books of instruction, are the bible
and prayer-book."
At a signal they rose and sang, when about departing to their separate
abodes,--"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, and good
will towards men." Never, by the pomp of measured melody, was my spirit
so stirred within me, as when that rustic, yet tuneful choir,
surrounding the white-haired father of them all, breathed out in their
forest sanctuary, "Thou, that takest away the sins of the _world_, have
mercy upon _us_."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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