Was it possible that they might be the lost ten tribes of
Israel, of whom I had heard both my grandfather and my father make
mention as existing in an unknown country, and awaiting a final return to
Palestine? Was it possible that I might have been designed by Providence
as the instrument of their conversion? Oh, what a thought was this! I
laid down my skewer and gave them a hasty survey. There was nothing of a
Jewish type about them: their noses were distinctly Grecian, and their
lips, though full, were not Jewish.
How could I settle this question? I knew neither Greek nor Hebrew, and
even if I should get to understand the language here spoken, I should be
unable to detect the roots of either of these tongues. I had not been
long enough among them to ascertain their habits, but they did not give
me the impression of being a religious people. This too was natural: the
ten tribes had been always lamentably irreligious. But could I not make
them change? To restore the lost ten tribes of Israel to a knowledge of
the only truth: here would be indeed an immortal crown of glory! My
heart beat fast and furious as I entertained the thought. What a
position would it not ensure me in the next world; or perhaps even in
this! What folly it would be to throw such a chance away! I should rank
next to the Apostles, if not as high as they--certainly above the minor
prophets, and possibly above any Old Testament writer except Moses and
Isaiah.
Pages:
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80