"Send the Bible to the Heathen!"
THERE is an old adage; I have read it oft; and yet for the life of me, I cannot tell who was the author of it, or where it may be found. It is not in the Bible. I have searched the Bible carefully, very; and have no hesitation in saying that it is not Scripture. And yet, as the old lady remarked when she found that her darling proverb—"Let every tub stand on its own bottom"—was not a Scriptural saying, "it's as good as Scripture." And so of that old adage which has been read, spoken and heard so oft—It's as good as Scripture. So it is. But how readeth it? Thus, "Charity should work at home before she works abroad!" It is not in the Bible, but it is true. While searching in that book for this truthful adage, I found a good thing expressed there, carrying with it the same precious principle. There are many good things in that Bible; in that one which that lady holds so gracefully in her delicately gloved hand, while her eye is resting so thoughtfully upon the pearly teeth, the curly whiskers, the glossy hair, the fine eyes, and the easy gestures of the holy man of God—"the beautiful speaker." There are many good things in that Bible, besides the golden clasp, the gilding, the pieces of satin ribbons between the leaves, and a lock of "dear Mr. Mellen's" hair laid in carefully; it may be to mark the place where the good Samaritan stopped a moment by the way-side to offer up a prayer for the stranger, wounded and half dead. And where should a lock of the minister's hair be but there, where we are told how the priest poured oil and wine into the stranger's wounds, set him upon his own beast, and carried him to the house of the Levite, the Levite rewarding him for the act, by giving him two pence for his disinterested benevolence, promising him more on his return from Jericho. Where should a lock of "dear Mr. Mellen's" hair be? It should not be anywhere else. The good thing which I have found in that Bible readeth on this wise, "But if any provide not for his own, and especially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel." This is true and genuine Scripture. No one can doubt its truth, or mistake the nature of the principle upon which it rests, or the end which the inspired penman had in view. And upon this principle mankind must act, relative to the physical, moral, and intellectual improvement of the world. The first duty incumbent upon an individual, is to provide for his own household. He is to have in view their welfare as physical, as moral, and as intellectual beings. And for a neglect in the discharge of this duty, he will bring down a tremendous judgment upon his own head. The next duty in order is, to look after the welfare and enjoyment of those of his own neighborhood; the next to labor for the improvement of those of his town, then those of the county, the state, the nation, and lastly those of other nations. Such should be the aim of every well-disposed man. And it is certainly questionable charity, that visits a neighbor, while a member of his own house is more needful of his attention than the neighbor visited; questionable charity, to throw gifts into other towns when his native place is suffering for want of those gifts; and surely questionable charity to bestow upon foreign countries that which might serve to render his own prosperous and happy. But how is it with those who are so zealously engaged in the cause of "Foreign Missions?" Do they look at their own household first? That they do, is not a matter of question. This done, they begin at the other end; they visit nations afar over the great waters, to plant there the standard of Christianity, and to establish the creed of the Church; encompassing sea and land to make proselytes like some of olden time. "The poor heathen! Oh! The poor heathen," saith the preacher, as he stands within the cushioned and ornamented desk, at a salary of three thousand dollars a year. "The poor heathen!" And he stretches forth, so gracefully, those snowy white hands; reaches them out so imploringly toward his curled, whiskered, dandied, proud, haughty, and aristocratic congregation; the members of which have spent the past week in shaving, cheating, swindling, and robbing their fellow-creatures—suffering orphan, and mourning widow, not being exempt from the ravages of their gold-clutching claws. Now hark! How eloquently the "beautiful speaker," "dear Mr. Mellen," pleads in behalf of the poor and benighted heathen. How he supplicates, prays, begs, and urges them to come up and impart of the abundance that the Lord has given them. The Lord has the credit of goods sold at an enormous profit! swindling bargains! and usury taken from those in distress! "Dear Mr. Mellen" said that the Lord had done it, and could "dear Mr. Mellen" be mistaken? But that was an eloquent appeal though! It was. And it has told upon the members of that congregation! It has. See the stewards start on their mission of love up and down the carpeted aisles, into the cushioned pews, and back; collecting for the Lord. See how gracefully the preacher accounts it; enough to save three or four precious souls. The Lord could not save them without these few pieces of silver. He could not. What a blessed congregation! Doing so much for the Lord! Sending out missionaries to the poor heathen; sending them out, with the creed on the one hand, and the miseries of an endless hell on the other. To save souls from the burning wrath of God, who "is good unto all, and whose tender mercies are over all his works"—except the poor heathen. Blessed congregation! And this temple of worship! Look upon the marble pillars, sculptured by an experienced architect; upon those curiously wrought and colored windows, so beautiful in the light of the superb chandelier; upon the lofty spire towering up amid the surrounding darkness, as though pointing the soul to its heavenly home beyond those bright stars afar up in the heavens! Come, go in, do not be afraid! None but meek and pious Christians are here. If Jesus comes he will have no crown of thorns here; no cross: no nails; no spear; no sponge saturated with vinegar; no, none of these, and here he can have "where to lay his head;" right here on this richly embroidered cushion—it may be like the one upon which he rested in that hall on that fearful night, after Judas had received the thirty pieces of silver to put in the "Lord's Treasury." Right here he can lay his head, while Mrs. Rollins will come and anoint his head, and wash his feet; and wipe them too; not with her hair, it would spoil those beautiful curls, but perhaps with that hundred dollar shawl. What would she not do for Jesus? and "dear Mr. Mellen?" But hark! the organ is pealing—the Saviour and the little band of followers had no organ in that chamber—that night when he went out into the garden of Gethsemane; "they sung a hymn and went out;" it came from the heart, but the heart hath little music for the human ear. But hark! the organ is pealing; its rich tones go swelling and rolling through the broad expanse of the archway up yonder; now echoing back again, as if going and returning on missions of love 'tween earth and heaven. But what buildings are here; such grandeur! saw you not the like before?—Jesus preached in a small ship, thrust out a little from the land! This building reared in all the grandeur of studied architecture; all is well; furnished in the most costly style; the pews all sold to purse-proud aristocrats, and then—dedicated to God! The well-fed priest will work, work, work; run, run, run; beg, beg, beg; hither and yon, to and fro; all for the wherewith to send out the clan to encompass sea and land to make proselytes, and within a stone's cast of the parsonage are orphans crying for bread—widows suffering, sorrowing, dying, with want—and wretches bearing the human form, without any knowledge of God, heaven, Christ, revelation, or religion! These are startling truths! They are truths, nevertheless! Men may talk of the idea of the age, the mission of man, and of this, and that, and the other; but sir, behind this curtain so beautifully painted and so gracefully holden up to view; behind this is a shocking picture; behind this are want, woe, misery, and hundreds of kindred evils, preying upon human souls; and ere long, if the Christian church does not lend its power for the eradication of these evils, they will cry to heaven and bring down the vengeance of the Almighty, rend society in twain, and give reign to a ruin more terrible than has ever swept a professed Christian land. "Send the Gospel to the Heathen?" Not if we are to do it at the sacrifice of our own12kindred. "Physician, heal thyself." "If any provide not for his own, and especially for the members of his own household, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel." Let us alleviate the woes of suffering humanity around us; let us see to it that the widow and orphan are blessed; let us Christianize the purgatorial dens in our cities and larger towns; let us dispense with a little of the professional of religion, and have more of the actual, and then— "Send the Gospel to the Heathen."