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THE ARAB'S BISMALLAH,

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Aug 30, 1877

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 50, No. 10.

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THE ARAB'S BISMALLAH,

By British Traveler

While I was in Egypt I had occasion to cross a part of the desert bordering on the Red Sea. I was accompanied by a number of natives, as guards. There were eight or nine of them, as wild and picturesque as you can well imagine. They were true sons of the desert, and Ishmaelites of pure descent.
They were faithful to me, and it was pleasant, day after day, to gallop among this bearded troop, sometimes conversing with the sheik, or leader, and at other times witnessing such feats of horsemanship as my guards pleased to exhibit for my amusement, or to practice for their own. In the heat of the day we were accustomed to pitch our tents and rest, and to travel in the cool of the morning and evening. Late in the evening we rested again, but then we were more inclined to while away the hours in conversation than in the middle of the day, when we were glad to sleep.
One evening, towards midnight, we had encamped as usual beside a muddy fountain, secured our horses, lighted our fire, and drank our coffee; my guards were seated around the fire, smoking and chatting, while I made an effort to sleep under cover of my own little tent. It was all in vain, however, and after many attempts to close my eyes in forgetfulness, I left my tent and joined the Arabs.
My presence did not much interfere with their conversation, but I paid little heed to what they were saying, till presently the sheik, turning suddenly around upon me, exclaimed:—
“What strange men you Englishmen are!”
“How so?” I asked. “Why strange?”
“I don't think you have any religion,” was the reply. “You don't pray; you don't give alms; you do nothing.”
This was a home thrust, and my conscience felt it. I had looked upon the poor fellows around me as so bigoted to their creed, and knew myself to be so completely in their power, that I deemed it prudent to avoid every topic which might rouse their prejudices and passions. In my solitary tent at midday I had read the word of life; and at morning and night I had commended myself in prayer to God my Maker, through Christ my Saviour, and sought the guidance and help of God's Holy Spirit; but in each case I had drawn close around me the curtains of my tent, and whispered low so that I should be neither seen nor overheard.
“You have no religion,” said the sheik; “you don't pray—you do nothing.”
“God forgive me!” I said within myself: “the accusation is deserved.”
“Now we,” continued my reprover, and he went on boastfully to tell what their prophet required of them, and how faithful was their obedience in matters of devotion, charity, and self-denial. While he spoke, I lifted up my heart to God, and asked for courage to bear a feeble testimony to his word. When the sheik paused, I put my hand into my bosom, and drew forth a New Testament.
“I have a religion,” I said; “would you like to hear what it teaches me in relation to these high matters?”
“Certainly. Would I tell him?” he asked.
By this time the attention of each of my guards was directed towards me. Their quick, sparkling eyes were fixed fiercely, as I thought, upon me, their dark visages looking more grim by the flashing fire around which they were seated, and their hands seemed ready to grasp the dagger that would speedily bring down vengeance upon the infidel dog who should dare to blaspheme their prophet.
“Certainly,” I said, as calmly as I could. I opened the Testament at the sixth chapter of St. Matthew's gospel. “You speak of alms-giving, hear what my Koran says about this:” and I rendered into Arabic the first four verses: “Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them.” When I came to the end of the fourth verse, I stopped and looked up. The dark countenances around me were glistening, but not with anger.
“Good!” exclaimed the sheik; “this is very good. Go on.”
I gathered courage, and read again: “And when thou prayest,” etc., and that which follows to the end of the fifteenth verse. Again I looked around me.
“Bismillah! but this is wonderful! wonderful!” exclaimed one and another, stroking their black beards, “wonderful!” and every harsh and forbidding feature was softened down to calm, quiet attention. “More, more.”
I read on, translating as I went what the Lord said about fasting.
“Bismillah!” cried the sheik again in evident admiration; “but this is wonderful!”
I needed no further urging on. Verse by verse, paragraph by paragraph, I read on to the close of the chapter, interrupted only by exclamations of surprise and approbation.
And I read to them further, how he who had spoken these words of grace and wisdom died for our sins upon the cross to make atonement for us, so that his blood can cleanse us from all sin.
“Wonderful!” said my swarthy friend, the sheik, when at length I closed the book; “but this is wonderful! And what good people you Christians ought to be!”
I never forgot, and I hope I never shall forget, the lesson taught me beside that desert fire. In the first place, my cowardice and unbelief had been rebuked. Call it prudence, or what I might, the truth is, I had been ashamed and afraid to acknowledge Christ before men, and thus I had brought dishonour upon his name, and upon faith in his name. Very painfully was I thus brought to think of the words of the Lord, “Whosoever shall be ashamed of me, and my words, of him shall the Son of man be ashamed when he shall come in his own glory, and in his Father's, and of the holy angels.” And earnestly did I ask for more faith to believe that the Holy Spirit can and may so effectually impress the minds of unbelievers with the truth of the gospel, as to excite their admiration and acknowledgment of its excellency, its moral beauty, and saving power.
In the second place, I felt how true were the words of my Arab guide, “Christians ought to be good people.” With the Bible for their guide, with the Holy Spirit for their sanctifier and light-giver, with Christ for their Saviour—what manner of persons ought they to be in all holy conversation and godliness! If the professed followers of the Lord Jesus Christ did but seek more earnestly that guidance and sanctifying influence, if they were but more conformed to the will and rule of Him who died for them and rose again, how much more there would be of loving obedience to their great Master's injunction, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in Heaven.”—British Traveler.