They sat on the ground in two long rows, facing each other; back of

each, attached to the wood trellis of the tent, hung fur pouches of

various shapes and sizes, ornamented with beads and containing the

"medicine," which was some trifling article--a bit of bone, stone,

seed, or whatever, through some special circumstance, had come to be

accepted by them as their charm, or "medicine," to ward off sickness

and evil--to bring them the good offices and protection of the good

spirits.

The four or more medicine chiefs, wearing wonderfully ornamented,

apron-like front pieces, stand together at one end for a few

moments while one and then another addresses the audience. The

medicine men then, with drum and rattle, keeping step, lead in the

dance down the length of the tent and back. One by one the audience,

from their crouching positions on the ground, as they are summoned

or moved, join in the dance, swaying while they keep step back and

forth for hours at a time, to the sound of drum and rattle. Those

being initiated, as were the young mother and the little girl, were

expected not to give up, if possible, until the end.

The dance is maintained for parts of four days and nights, almost

incessantly, except for the interruption of the feast given by some

members. The close is marked by the utter exhaustion of many of the

dancers, and sad immorality accompanies its progress.

Can the Gospel of Christ lift such as these, with a thousand

generations of savagery back of them?

Let another picture answer.

* * * * *

Almost half a mile from the Medicine Lodge camp, on a rise of ground,

stands a little Christian church--plain but beautiful. From it seem

to flow visibly those purifying and redeeming forces that are destined

to transform the darkened lives of these Indian children of the great

All-father.

It is prayer-meeting night. The bell is rung and the audience begins

to gather. A number of alert, intelligent-looking, English-speaking

young men come in together.

One of these, an earnest Christian, will interpret, sentence by

sentence, the Scripture reading and the message of the speaker.

Some older men and women come next, heavy of feature and step. One

is blind and feels his way to his accustomed seat.

Old women come wrapped in blankets, their faces seamed with toil

and showing the hardness of heathen customs, when sickness and death,

unrelieved by faith, wear the heart and waste the body.

Mothers come with bright-eyed babies tucked in their blankets, or

leading children of various sizes--also some young women, beautiful

and intelligent--and a few white employees from the Agency--and the

workers from the Mission--until the room is nearly filled.

The meeting is opened with prayer, and a quiet fills the room as

all are brought into the very presence of the loving Father.

And then follows the singing, "My faith looks up to Thee,"

"Lovingly, tenderly, Jesus is calling, calling to you and to me."

Did ever the words seem so fraught with meaning, so filled with

the yearning love of the Master?

The message that follows is one of passionate earnestness, as the

missionary seeks to make clear to them the meaning of purity of

life--of faith in God, of His saving, keeping power.

At its close an Indian elder, using his own soft, Indian language,

pleads in prayer for the presence of the Holy Spirit to lead his

people.

Another rises and says through the interpreter: "When I was away at

school I learned about Christianity, but when I came back to the

reservation and the old Indian life called me, there was none to

help, and I went back. I did not work; I gambled, I drank; liquor,

I went to the medicine dance--I was very bad. Then came the Mission

and it got hold of me. The missionary brought me to Christ. Now I cut

off those bad ways. I am happy. I have a Christian home with my wife

and my child."

This testimony was true. All there knew him to be an industrious,

upright, manly Indian, one of the two hundred members of this church,

all of whom had, in a few years, been led from the old life of

degradation to the pleasant, wholesome peace of the Jesus Road.

* * * * *

"Missionary work begins with evangelism. It does not end there.

The people must hear the good news of salvation. So we have spent

much time 'to make the message plain.' It has taken years of labor

to put the gist of the Gospel into several Indian languages having

no literature, that the people might get the word of God. One had

to work to get a clue to a word through a crude interpreter; or by

making signs or motions where, as often, no interpreter was at hand,

and then guessing between several possible meanings. In this way one

would in time get a knowledge of the commonplace things in a language.

Then there must follow the task of finding equivalents for Christian

terms in the speech of a people without Christian ideas.

"Difficult as all this work was, it is only a beginning, only

elementary. The message must be applied to all phases of life. A

constant educational process must be kept up to incorporate Christian

ideals into the daily thinking of the people. This is to be done by the

reiterated daily teachings of the schools, and the living example of

the missionary, and of those he can educate to lead the people. A bare

message unrelated to life is like seed scattered on the road or on a

rock. After sowing one must harrow and cultivate and fight insect pests

all the season to get a crop. So a constant process of education, moral,

industrial, hygienic, must go on, or there will be no regenerated,

fruitful characters.

"The old Indian linked his hunting and corn planting and simple

arts to religion. He lived by the help of his gods. We are trying

not to destroy this faith, but to transfer it to the living God,

and to make it 'work by love,' instead of by selfishness. Our

little girls in the Home are learning to keep house and sew and

cook, because it is the work of a child of God to do these things

well. We are trying to teach our neighbors by word and example to

farm and build and make homes in a way that will be becoming to a

redeemed man. They must understand that the Gospel means diligence

in business, honesty, carefulness, co-operation, skill, cleanness

of heart and body, health and prosperity, and any other virtue

that makes life worth living now and always. We think our example

in raising seventy bushels of oats or two hundred bushels of

potatoes to the acre, garden vegetables, improved cattle and hogs,

well-kept horses, small fruits and sheltering trees and pretty

shrubs, in what is classed as a semi-arid land, is a part of the

Gospel of Christ, who came to make all 'deserts blossom as the

rose.'

"When our former Mission school boys are found taking hold of

agricultural work according to present-day methods and earning a

support for their growing families, building their meeting-place,

and making some contributions to the church work abroad, we feel

that the foundation of a Christian community is being laid.

"The clouds return sometimes. There comes a recrudescence of

heathenism. Yet faith sees still the leaven at work. An old man's

daughter went away to our Santee School and returned a believer in

the Christian way. She taught her father what she had learned, and

prayed for him. He yielded to her faith and threw away his fetishes

after a hard struggle with all the past and present environment that

bound him. Then at once his instinct was to make a better home for

his family. He must get away from the heathen village, with its

squalor, and impurity, and idolatry. It is true that environment

does not regenerate the soul, but the renewed soul transforms the

environment. Better conditions are evidence of the new life. On the

contrary, when some fall back to heathenism, they fall into slovenly

attire, ill-kept homes, and neglected fields." [Footnote: Rev. C. L.

Hall, D.D., American Missionary Association.]

Alaska is a post which beyond any other in the American church

demands courage and endurance, both physical and moral.

"The natives of Anvik invited the missionary to visit their

village, 450 miles by water from St. Michael.

"These natives were Ingiliks, partly Indian and partly Eskimo. They

lived in underground houses and were superstitious, dirty, ignorant,

and degraded. Rude buildings were erected for a mission house and the

schoolhouse. In 1894 the first church was erected, the money for it

being a part of the first United Offering of the Women's Auxiliary.

Little by little the people came out of their holes in the earth and

built themselves houses. The community has been physically and morally

transformed. A saw-mill, the gift of a generous Eastern layman, has

been a most practical means of evangelising, not only furnishing

lumber for houses, but healthful occupations for the men. This

transformation has been wrought, not by legislation or civilization

as such, but by the consistent teaching and example of a devoted

Christian man and his splendid helpers. 'Through these long years,

in the loneliness of this far-away station, the missionary has

remained the kind, wise, spiritual shepherd of these native souls

in the wilderness. The mission has pursued high ideals, and has

ministered spiritually and helpfully to a vast region.'

"A gold strike was made at Nome, and with the first rush of eager

prospectors went in a missionary, who aided with his own hands in

the building of the church. Though the saloon men were bidding for

the only available lumber, the bishop got it first to build a

clubhouse for the men, the only competitor of fourteen saloons.

"So he goes back and forth across his great district, up and down

its rivers in the short summer time--formerly by boat or canoe,

but now in a launch, the 'Pelican.' In the winter he is away

across the trackless wilderness, a thousand miles or more, behind

his dogs, cheerily facing hardships and making light of dangers,

carrying his life in his hand as he goes about his daily work.

"Particularly is he interested in the preservation and betterment

of the native races, the Eskimos and the Indians, endangered by

their contact with the white man and their own lack of knowledge.

Everywhere his hand is raised and his voice is heard in their

behalf.

"Alaska is the land of one great river, without which it could

scarcely have been explored--much less occupied and inhabited. The

Yukon is the great highway. Over its waters in the brief summer,

and upon its frozen surface in the winter, go travelers by boat

and sled, and among them the representatives of the church.

Familiar to the dwellers along its banks is the little 'Pelican'

bearing the missionaries, with a half-breed engineer and the

faithful dogs. Everywhere along the river in the summer time may

be found the temporary camps of the Indians, to whom the short

fishing season means food through the long winter for themselves

and their dogs. Here a stop is made at a native camp to baptize a

baby--there a marriage ceremony is performed; a communion service

is held or a call made at a fishing camp to pick up some boys and

take them to a far-away boarding school. The work is as varied as

it is far-reaching. Not a mission point along the river is

neglected, and places which formerly could never be visited by the

hand-paddled canoe now look forward once a year to the coming of

the 'Pelican,' and wait to hear the familiar throbbing of her

motor, as does the New Yorker for his morning mail, or the farmer

for the postman's whistle.

"Fairbanks, the metropolis of central Alaska, was a new mining

camp when the missionary Bishop secured an early entrance for the

church. The log building which was a chapel on Sunday became a

reading-room on week-days for the rough-clad miners. A hospital

was built and it ministered to the sick through the range of a

wide territory. Missions both to white men and to Indians have

spread along the valley of the river on either hand, and now

Fairbanks is the center of what is known as the Tanana Valley

Mission, with half a score of workers, schools and missions,

hospitals and reading rooms, distributing tons of literature in

lonely mining camps, and carrying everywhere the message of the

Master.

"Over on the coast, at Cordova, may be found the unique settlement

work called 'The Red Dragon,' a clubhouse for men which on Sundays

is converted into a place of worship. Missions in Alaska minister

to human need as a preliminary to and accompaniment of an

effective preaching of the Gospel." [Footnote: Board of Missions

of the Protestant Episcopal Church.]

These pictures of the power of Home Missions to restore--to give

capacity--are merely typical, and stand for the thousands of others

unrecorded except as the lives of the reclaimed individuals and

communities make their indelible imprint upon our national life.

Surely through the demonstration of such reclaiming power the

consciousness must grow that ignorance, degradation, vice, crime,

and bitter poverty need not be the inevitable accompaniment of a

great civilization, but that these diseased spots in the social

fabric are abnormal and curable, if to their removing is directed

first the power of Christ in the inner life, and for the outer a

social regeneration which will substitute physical conditions that

do not menace, but make for righteousness.

"In haunts of wretchedness and need

On shadowed thresholds dark with fears,

From paths where hide the lures of greed

We catch the vision of Christ's tears.

"The cup of water given for Thee

Still holds the freshness of Thy grace;

Yet long these multitudes to see

The sweet compassion of Thy face."

III

AN EDUCATIVE FORCE

"My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge."

"After all, it is the children who are the important factors of

our nation, and every one of them neglected is a reproach to every

Christian, man or woman, in the churches who has a dollar or a voice.

When the Spartans were demanded to give fifty children as hostages,

they wisely replied, 'We would rather give one hundred of our most

distinguished men.'

"It is an irrefutable fact that the work with the children pays

the best dividends to the state and nation. There is a Doric oracle

which says, 'If the Athenians want good citizens let them put whatever

is beautiful into the ears of their sons.' If we Americanize this

oracle it would read, 'If the Americans want good citizens let them

put whatever is beautiful and useful into the ears of their sons and

daughters.'"

* * * * *

It is instructive to note the inter-relation and interaction of

forces and influences that have been powerful factors in national

development, and to consider their sources.

The American passion for education had its roots far back in

Holland, in the period when that country was the world's great

intellectual center, as well as the world's leader in commerce and

manufacturing. The most powerful single factor in shaping Colonial

thought and character was the Bible. It was from Holland that

England received its first Bible printed in the English tongue.

It is said that under the persecution of Phillip II and the Duke

of Alva, fully one hundred thousand Hollanders crossed the channel

to find homes in England.

Industrious, self-supporting, self-respecting men, and women they

were, refugees for freedom and for conscience' sake--among them

were scholars, bankers, merchants, and intelligent, plain people.

They came from a land of free schools and universities.

The counties in England in which the Hollanders settled sent the

Pilgrims and the Puritans to America. These counties also gave

birth to the University of Cambridge; the Puritan movement in England

was largely under the leadership of men who had studied in Cambridge,

and it was that educational center of broad culture, thought, and

inspiring ideals which furnished America the first scholars and

leaders of New England.

The first free school of America was opened by the Hollanders in

Manhattan in 1633. It was known as the Collegiate School, and

though it has changed somewhat in character, it is still one of

the leading preparatory schools of New York City.

Regard for education thus came to this country with the colonists,

though not all the colonies attached the same importance to it.

In the Home countries of the colonists, the schools had been

an adjunct to the churches. It was natural, therefore, that the

impetus for the establishment of schools in this country should

come from the church.

"One of the first provisions made by the Virginia company in their

settlement of Jamestown was to set aside land for the use of a college

to 'teach Indian children the rudiments of religion and the Latin

language,' and money was collected in England to establish a school

which should prepare children for this college. The failure of the

company a few years later defeated these plans."

"Twenty years after the landing at Plymouth, the Massachusetts

Colony ordained by law that every child should be taught to read

and write and understand the principles of religion and the capital

laws of the country. A little later in the same section, every township,

when it numbered fifty householders, was required to support a teacher,

and towns numbering a hundred householders, to establish a school to

teach Latin. These were rude pioneer experiments, for the conditions

which surrounded them were rude; their importance lay in the fact that

they gave education a first place in public interest and accustomed

people to think of education as a function of the community." [Footnote:

American Ideals, Character and Life--Hamilton Wright Mabie.]

From these feeble beginnings has come that greatest bulwark of the

Republic--the free school.

It lies at the very foundation of our national life. It makes

possible our democracy. A helpful government by the people is not

possible if the people are ignorant and superstitious.

It is the greatest institution for citizenship. "Through it come

knowledge of the meaning of our institutions, the interpretation

of our national past, and a reverence for the national symbol--the

flag."

It is a fusing force whereby children of many nationalities,

differing in feelings, sympathies, purposes, and class, become

Americans.

The forty-eight States in the year 1912 spent $450,000,000 on the

public schools of the country. The nation's tobacco bill for the

same period was nearly three times as great, and it spent five times

as much for liquor.

Even with this large expenditure, the provision for the school

population of the country is, in places, fearfully inadequate. In

our large cities, if the truant and labor laws were properly enforced,

the lack of school provision would be still more apparent. In New York

City alone more than 100,000 children are attending school but half

the time.

As we turn to study the need for Mission Schools, and their place

as an educative force, it is well that we should seek to realize

something of the splendid achievements of our public schools as

well as where they seriously fail.

Their efficiency differs with the vision and effectiveness with

which they are administered by the different states.

Many states have added incalculably to the usefulness of the

schools by relating the curriculum to life through industrial and

vocational training, but much remains to be accomplished in attaining

a proper balance in the adjustment of the cultural and the practical

in the public school courses.

The state of Ohio affords an interesting illustration of the wider

relation of the public schools to the life of the school

population.

"In the winter of 1914, nearly one thousand boys and girls of

Ohio, in five special trains, were sent on a tour which embraced

the cities of Washington, Philadelphia, and New York, as a reward

for their efficiency in agriculture and domestic science. The

people of Ohio have found that it pays to encourage thrift and

industry in their children, for since these "corn tours," as they

are termed, were started, the annual value of the corn crop of Ohio

has become almost twenty million dollars _more_ than it formerly was."

[Footnote: Outlook, Dec. 16, 1914.]

Public School, No. 23, of Mulberry Bend, New York, stands in the

heart of an Italian district of more than 100,000 souls, and draws

also from the great Chinese section. Various other nationalities in

less degree contribute their quota, so that the school ministers to

the children of twenty-nine different nationalities.

This school is fortunate in having a teacher of unusual ability

and magnetism for its new students in English. A visit to her room

on the top floor well repays the effort of exploration in a very

foreign quarter of America's greatest city, and the long climb up

the winding cement stairs of the school building.

As you enter, the class is asked to bid you "Good morning," and

the familiar greeting comes to you in the soft Italian accent,

mingled with the higher-keyed voices of the Japanese and Chinese.

The group of ten Chinese young men impress you by their alertness,

neatness of appearance, and evident eagerness to learn. An Italian

boy who had been set at a trade when very young is now having a

belated chance to learn to read. A number of girls of various sizes

help to make up the class, with little Italian Mary, ten years old,

quite new to America, beautiful and winning in spite of her unkempt

appearance and poor clothing.

With the exception of two who had acquired a little English, the

class entered school three months before with no knowledge of

English. All are able to write their names and addresses and simple

sentences in English on the blackboard.

They can go through the transaction of buying a newspaper, explaining

each action involved, and making correct payment or exacting correct

change.

When questioned, they give quickly and correctly the names of the

President of the United States, the Governor of New York, the Mayor

of New York City, and answer other questions on civic affairs.

It was deeply stirring to see a little Italian whose patois English

was scarcely intelligible, step forward, with conscious pride, to

be the standard-bearer and hold the flag while the class, with eager

enthusiasm, saluted, touching foreheads and extending arms at full

length as they repeated, the foreign tongues giving queer twists to

the words:

"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the Republic for which it

stands, one nation, indissoluble, with liberty and justice for all."

Many night classes likewise afford opportunity for new Americans

to learn English. Public School No. 95, located on Clarkson Street

in the old Greenwich Village of New York, where now many Italians,

Irish and a few Jews find homes, carries forward a remarkable

service to its neighborhood.

Here the opportunity of helpful evening recreation is given to

girls and boys. These evenings include basket ball games and

athletics, Boy Scout activities, moving picture exhibits, public

concerts and meetings, with such speakers on popular themes as

Commissioner of Corrections Katharine B. Davis. Other public

schools give carpentry training in actual shop work, qualifying

the students for positions in trade. They also prepare students to

pass the civil service examinations for public positions and give

suitable training for positions on the Police and Fire Department.

The establishment of continuation schools in a few stores and

factories is an inestimable boon to some of the toilers thrust too

early into the livelihood struggle.

The employers are finding it to their interest to spare their

workers for certain hours and days for such schooling because of

the increased efficiency and intelligence of their service.

A peculiarly neglected group in the foreign quarters of all our

cities are the older women--workers and mothers in the homes. To

these Home Missions is striving to bring some knowledge of the

tongue of the new country through classes arranged especially for

them.

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