The Path to the Bush 2

Many LESSONS may be learned from this touching narrative. I may, for instance, take occasion to set forth by it—

The efficacious power, and the holy, beautiful, and graceful results of missionary operations. These women were Hottentots, belonging to a race which, a few years before the event referred to occurred, were scarcely admitted, by some calumniators of the sable tribes, into the fellowship of rational creatures, and were thought worthy to be the companions of baboons, or at best only fit to be the slaves of men who happen to be clothed in a whiter skin.

Where, I ask, can be found, in the annals of the Christian church in any part of the world, a more beautiful or graceful exemplification of some of the more difficult virtues and duties of Christianity, than in these two African females? Where shall we find among their more polished sisters in Europe, or in America, more tenderness, fidelity, and real refinement of soul, than in these two daughters of Ham? Here is indeed the image of God, delineated on the dark ground of a Hottentot skin, and shining forth in the meekness and gentleness of Christ, amidst the wilds of an African desert.

And what is it that has thus raised these subjects of barbarism and victims of oppression from the dust; from the captivity of Satan and his emissaries, and given them so high a place, not only among the civilized, but the sanctified portions of humanity? Not commerce, or civilization, or arts or sciences, nor free institutions, nor general education; no—but Christian religion.

O Christianity, you offspring of heaven, and regenerator of earth, these are your triumphs and your trophies! These are the conquests and the fruits which you have produced, in myriads of instances, and which you alone can produce! It is you that have gone forth into the deserts of Africa, not in the spirit of avarice and cruelty to enslave and to destroy, but with the mind of him who came to seek and to save that which was lost, to reclaim, to civilize, and to evangelize the most desolate wilds of humanity; and thus to add to the garden of the Lord portions of the human race, which science had abandoned as below its ambition, and commerce valued only as a means of gratifying its avarice!

Over those tracts of dreariness and desolation, as they stretched out to the far distant horizon, did Christian mercy from the mount of Zion cast an eye of pity and of hope; and bearing precious seed, the Christian missionary went forth weeping to the high and holy enterprise of the spiritual husbandry, and already has he returned bearing his sheaves with him. The land that was trodden by the feet, and watered with the tears, and sanctified by the labors of Vanderkemp, but which yielded comparatively little fruit to reward his toil, has been tilled by a band of holy laborers since; and Moffat has come back to tell us by the magic of his tongue, and the details of his precious volume, what he suffered for Africa, and how God has blessed his sufferings.

Who then should not be prepared to say, and to act as he says, "Go on, Christianity, you benignant, and heavenly, and God-like system, with your blessed and glorious conquests! The deepest and holiest sympathies of my heart are engaged to your great purpose of saving a lost world, the most fervent prayers of my faith shall ascend for your success; and my luxuries, my comforts, and even what I have been accustomed to consider my necessaries, shall be taxed to furnish resources for your benevolent operations. Go forward in your evangelizing career—it is yours to accomplish the purposes of eternal love, and of redeeming mercy; yours to fulfill the predictions of ancient prophecy; yours to deliver this fallen and apostate world from the dominion of sin and Satan, and restore it to the dominion of the Prince of Peace; yours to consummate the mission, and adorn with his brightest honors the crown of Emmanuel! Hasten your universal reign! The groans of creation invite your approach, the shouts of a regenerated and happy world shall proclaim the universality and the blessings of your sway."

A second lesson to be learned from "the path to the bush," is, the value of private prayer, and the connection between its regular and spiritual performance, and a healthy state of the soul. When the bush was neglected, and the path to it forsaken, then did the religion of this poor Hottentot woman begin to spiritually decline. And how could it be otherwise? Who ever kept up a vigorous piety when secret prayer was neglected? The privacy of prayer is the spirit of prayer; and the spirit of prayer is the spirit of true religion.

It is in the closet that the soul feels religion to be a personal concern, and maintains the individuality of her piety. It is in the closet, when the Christian shuts himself in, from the gaze of all eyes but that of God, from all ears but those of conscience; when the flatteries of friends, and the accusations of foes, are alike unheard, and the spirit listens only to the voice which speaks from heaven; where confession of sin may be minutely made, and wants and weaknesses may be expressed, which could not be uttered in the hearing of a single human being, that the work of grace goes vigorously forward in the heart. It is in the closet where all restraint which the presence even of a child would impose, is thrown off, and the suppliant feels alone with God. It is in the closet where we muse in silence, until the fire burns too intensely for repression, and we pour out the ardor of our love in the sallies of impassioned aspiration.

It is in the closet where we can review and scrutinize our actions, and sift our very motives, until the accumulating amount of our delinquency is ascertained by a rigid examination, that we exercise our penitence in tears, and groans, and smitings upon our bosom, and are prepared to offer to God the sacrifice of a broken heart, and a contrite spirit. It is in the closet that the bruised and burdened mind throws down its load, and pours out the bitterness which is known to none else, and also tastes the joy with which the stranger meddles not. It is in the closet, as in the cleft of the rock, that the wrestling spirit places herself, while God passes by, and proclaims his glorious names. It is in the closet that our cares are lightened, oursorrows mitigated, our corruptions mortified, and our graces strengthened. It is in the closet, that calm and holy retreat, that the believer is prepared to come forth to duty, to conflict, to honor, before men on earth; to rise into the fellowship of the saints in light, and to hold converse with angels in the presence of God.

In short, the closet of private devotion is the ante-chamber where the Christian shakes off the dust of the earth, and by the aid of Divine grace makes himself ready for an abundant entrance into the heavenly glory. Who then would forsake the path to the bush? Woe be to the man whose feet, turned into other courses, leave the grass to grow in the way that leads to the meeting-place with God. All goes wrong in religion, when private prayer is restrained, or is undevoutly and insincerely performed. Happy is it for the deserter from the closet, when, as in the case before us, he meets some faithful friend, who finds him in his truant course, and points him to the proofs of his departure from God; and blessed is he, who, in the spirit of judicious and faithful love, leads back the stray brother to the sacred, but deserted scene of communion with God.

This leads me to apply the narrative at greater length, and as the principal design of the tract, to illustrate the obligation of professing Christians to discharge the duty of reciprocal watchfulness, and to administer the warnings and reproofs of faithful love. Suppose a number of the inhabitants of some town were about to emigrate to a distant and unknown place; and, foreseeing they would be exposed to many dangers, as well as privations, were to bind themselves to each other in a covenant of affection and defense; promising, with great solemnity, to watch over each other's interests, and faithfully to admonish any one of the company who would be guilty of the least violation of the compact, whereby he would put himself in personal peril, or hazard the peace of his fellows; we can imagine how much vigilance would be exercised by each over the rest, especially in passing through tracts of country which abounded with dangerous precipices, were infested with wild beasts, or were the haunts of bandits.

How anxiously would they look to one another; how kindly, yet how faithfully, would they warn any one of the company, who by indolence or incautiousness exposed himself to destruction; and how thankfully would they receive, when they needed them, these friendly warnings, even when accompanied, as they would be, with the language of rebuke! We cannot suppose that through a false delicacy, anyone would allow his brother to perish, or to sustain any serious mischief, rather than wound his feelings by the warning of love; or that the individual thus plucked from the jaws of death would feel himself aggrieved by the faithful affection which had saved him from destruction. He who, in a spirit of selfish ease and surly isolation, stood aloof from the rest, and who, to whatever perils he saw his companions expose themselves, never raised his voice of warning, would be considered as having broken his compact, violated his obligations, and cut himself off, by his conduct, from the party.

What, in reality, is a company of professing Christians, united in the fellowship of a church, but such a band of emigrants fleeing from a place devoted to destruction, to the heavenly city; and by virtue of their union and common object of pursuit, bound to watch over and warn each other in reference to the moral dangers to which they are exposed on the road. Must it not, however, be admitted, that this is one of the duties of the Christian life, which, as by common consent, are too generally neglected? What is the purpose for which we are brought within the bonds of church fellowship, but that we may be thus mutually helpful by watchfulness and warning? We are members one of the other; and as the organs and limbs of the "natural body" are each defensive of the whole, the eye guiding the hand, and the ear listening for the foot, and the foot and the hand guarding the eye, and the head presiding over all. So it is in the "spiritual body," we are united to keep watch and ward over each other in the spirit of love.

Express injunctions to this duty are to be found in the word of God. How impressive is the language of even the more frigid dispensation of the law—"You shall not hate your brother in your heart. Be sure to correct your neighbor, so that he may be stopped from doing evil." This scripture allows of no middle state of mind between love and hatred in all our feelings towards God or man—if we do not love, we hate. Now, surely, it cannot be consistent with love to allow a person to go on sinning, and deliver to him no words of counsel, remonstrance, and warning. While maintaining such a silence, our Divine Lord will hold us accountable for the sin of hating our brother.

How frequent are the admonitions to the exercise of brotherly warning in the New Testament! "Exhort one another daily, while it is called today; lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin." "Warn those who are unruly." "If your brother shall trespass against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone." "If any of you do err from the truth, and one convert him; let him know, that he that converts the sinner from the error of his way shall save a soul from death," evidently implying it is our duty to try to convert him. These are only a few of the passages in which this obligation is enforced. What is our love to our neighbor, enjoined as the second great commandment; what is brotherly-kindness, what the love so beautifully personified and enjoined by the apostle, in his first Epistle to the Corinthians, but a constant regard to the happiness of our fellow-creatures and fellow-Christians, and an endeavor to promote it? And can it comport with love to leave its objects to perish in sin?

Think what interests are at stake in the case of an erring brother. If his body were liable to mutilation, or to wasting disease; if his property were exposed to destruction; if his children were in danger of being lost, through any act of his misconduct or neglect, should we not feel emboldened, yes, compelled, to go and deliver the faithful warning? And is the duty less incumbent, the necessity for this remonstrance less urgent, because it is his soul that he is in danger of losing? In how many cases has the faithful and affectionate discharge of this duty been followed with the most blessed results!

Backsliders have been reclaimed; sheep wandering from the fold and the pastures of the good Shepherd have been restored; souls that had set out in the road that led to the precipice have been turned into "the path to the bush;" sin that would soon have brought forth the fruits of death has been nipped in the bud; secret faults by timely warning have been prevented from growing into great transgressions; the church has been saved from wounds in its peace, and the world from having fresh stumbling-blocks thrown in its way; and all this by performing the office which the good Hottentot woman did for her sister in Christ.

Christians, I entreat you by the love you bear to souls, deal faithfully with those whom you know to be declining in piety, and advancing in sin. Who can tell but you may gain your brother? And oh to be the honored instrument of saving a soul from death, and hiding a multitude of sins! Blessed reward of fidelity! Conducted in a right spirit, and in a proper manner, no efforts are more hopeful to succeed, none more likely to be followed with the desired results, than those which I now recommend. Hard indeed must be the heart, obtuse and seared the conscience of the man that does not feel kindly and listen patiently to one who in the exercise of a self-denying friendship addresses him, not to accuse, to arraign, or to reproach—but to warn, to entreat, to restore him.

A momentary wound to the proud feelings of the heart may be felt, and irritation, for a short season, may follow, but still in the presence of that tender form of love which stands before it, pride sinks into humility, passion subsides into meekness, and the heart which at the first approach to it, closed like the petals of the flower to the coming storm, will open as that same flower does to the genial rays of the sun. Who of us has tried the experiment, and tried it in a proper method, of winning back a stray brother to Christ? Who of us has put all the vigilance and tenderness of love into operation for the benefit of those for whom Christ died?

Next Part The Path to the Bush 3

Back to John Angell James