step was to become acquainted with the people and secure their
confidence, which had to be accomplished in various ways; sometimes
by taking a great interest in the children, lending them books,
giving them pictures, candy, toys, etc., or by giving the mother
a little assistance or advice about her work. Sickness affords a
good opportunity. I visited one family where the mother had been
helpless for some time from a beating given her by her husband.
I dressed her wounds, made clothing for her infant, washed and
dressed it, set the neighbors to work, and thus secured the
confidence of the whole neighborhood; now I am welcomed into homes
where before I was treated with coldness and suspicion. I reach a
great many through my sick ones.
Some little Sabbath-school girls in Crete, Ill., sent us a box
of bedding and clothing, which has been a great help in my work;
also, my friends at Romeo, Mich., sent a box of clothing, toys,
books, and material for my sewing-school, all of which has been a
God-send to me, as I find some very destitute families. The city
does nothing for the poor colored people, so my opportunity is all
the greater for doing good.
I find many who cannot read and who are very glad to hear the Bible
read. Some have even offered to pay me for reading to them, at the
same time saying, “You must need it, you dear child, if you have
left your friends and home to come and work for the poor colored
people.”
It is astonishing how little these people know about the Bible,
although they have attended church for years. Those who cannot
read find it so hard to understand the preaching, and those who
could read a little to them ‘could not give the understanding,’ as
they say. When I had finished my Bible reading with one family,
they said: “Please, ma’am, come every Sabbath, we get so much more
satisfaction from hearing you read than we do anywhere else.” I
endeavor to visit them at such hours as not to interfere with
their work, and often read and explain the Bible to a woman while
she proceeds with her sewing or ironing; however, some insist on
laying aside work, saying, “We must give our whole attention to the
word of God when we do have a chance to hear it”; and it is quite
affecting to have them thank the kind heavenly Father for sending
some one to teach them ways they knew not of, and pray to become
better women for having received the instruction.
The missionary and those who send her do not lack for prayers from
the colored people. I have a Mothers’ Meeting once a week, where I
endeavor to teach them from the Bible their duties as mothers and
wives; also a sewing-school, where we teach the girls how to cut
and make garments, which they buy, when finished, at a low price.
I have had so much to do in this part of the work, that one of the
teachers has kindly assisted me.
I have over fifty families on my visiting list, and have called on
several others and am received cordially by nearly all. I am well
pleased with the work, and ought never to cease being thankful for
the good and wonderful way in which the Lord has opened this field
of labor for me.
Not long since, one of the girls from the senior class came and
told me she would like to become a missionary sometime, and asked
me to tell her what she could do now, as she wishes to begin to
work for Jesus while she is young. She asked me to take her with
me on some of my visits among the people, which I shall be glad to
do. I think one of the good results of this work is that it tends
to set the colored people to work for themselves, as they are glad
to do, but did not know how to go to work; they need instruction in
this as in everything else.
* * * * *
KENTUCKY.
Berea College.
While the echoes of Merry Christmas are ringing in our ears, and
good dinners and joyous family greetings are still bright spots in
our memories, it may be interesting to hear of a Gospel Feast in
Berea, Ky. Our good steward, of the Boarding Hall, conceived the
plan of going out into our highways and hedges and inviting those
most destitute to dine with him. Over the hills and the valleys
went the joyful tidings into many a log-hut—“Mr. H. done ’vite us
to a big dinner at de Hall.”
Aside from teachers and their wives, no white folks were admitted
within those doors as guests. At an early hour, the large parlor
began to fill. To those of us who were late, it required no little
moral courage to enter a room so well filled, and go through the
ordeal of hand-shaking. The walls were lined with people, and
from their sober, dignified looks, one could easily imagine it a
funeral occasion. They seemed conscious of the dignity of the hour,
and were prepared to maintain it at any cost. Men sat modestly
far away from the women. The costumes would have driven “Worth”
distracted. Surely, never could he have devised so many ways of
“doing up” the female form. Bits of ribbon, faded and old, stray
pieces of lace pinned here and there in charming abundance, and
with a lofty indifference to such minor matters as harmony or
usefulness. One large figured gown of prominent yellow shades, made
conspicuous the form of an old woman, who seemed, like her gown,
to have awakened out of a Rip Van Winkle sleep, or been unearthed
from some old ruin. It reminded us of the days of Dolly Varden, and
was not very unlike the Chinese and Japanese cloths which to-day
we try to think pretty. But it would be impossible to attempt a
description of the toilettes. Necessity made a virtue of all sorts
of combinations; and if they were not beautiful, they seemed to
give the wearers the feeling of being dressed—a feeling not always
accomplished under happier circumstances.
As we went from one to another, it certainly relieved the monotony
to hear them say, “Ki, yi! dars Miss Lizzie,” “How d’ye, honey,”
and so on. From the men came the stiffest bows and politest concern
for our health. Knowing but few in the party, we hastily found a
seat, where we could talk to one about gardens. To another, the
never-failing question of babies proved interesting; and thinking
of the little black ones, I thought in God’s sight they might be
as fair as my own. It took so long for one old dame to tell of
her “rheumatiz” and general “misery,” that our sympathy, which
was real, almost cooled before the lengthy recital was ended.
During all that long hour not a loud laugh was heard from those
laughter-loving people.
At length, to the relief of us all, the great doors opened, and the
eager old children could contain themselves no longer, and almost
broke ranks and ran; husbands and wives apart, evidently fearing,
as they hurried to their seats, there would not be room for all.
Not till the guests were seated did the teachers scatter here and
there, glad for _once_ at least to yield the first seat.
What a meal was provided! Of all good things that could be brought
from farm or store, there was no lack. The blessing asked, eagerly
they began to enjoy what was to them the principal event of the
day. Glancing about us, we saw our steward (a man of deeds rather
than of words), upon whom all the expense of this feast came,
looking around, with beaming eye, over the great company whose
hearts he had made glad. We thought of the wife who had stood by
his side so many years, helping in every good work, and who would
have been there if God had not called her higher. The flushed face
of our good housekeeper, who is never too weary or too busy to do
a little more, if she can make hearts happy thereby, shone upon
us, and we knew her hands had been full for many days. Though her
feet were tired, they obeyed the loving heart, and she flew among
us like a spirit, watching on all sides that no one should fail to
enjoy the dinner.
Looking up the table, our hearts ached, as one face after another
brought up the old slave days. Some there were who had risen above
every discouragement, and in the face of poverty, low wages and
many another hindrance, had proved themselves men, gladly denying
themselves the comforts of life, that their children’s days might
be brighter than their own. We saw there old men, grown grey in
their “massa’s” service, turned out without a dollar, to pinch the
rest of their lives to keep from suffering. Women, married in the
Lord and in the honesty of their own hearts, considered only as so
much property, to be abused or neglected as their masters chose.
Beauty was a fearful gift to the race, and many of our colored
women do not lack the gift.
One woman we must speak of, who, having neither riches nor
sweetness of temper, made it all good in the wealth of names, which
can only be equalled in the royal family. I give a few: “Carrie
Lee, Bessie Fee, who but she—Bernaugh.” “Isabel, rise and tell,
the glories of Immanuel—Bernaugh.” “Raphael Rogers, Alfred Hart,
’Postle Paul, Caleb after all—Bernaugh.” How she abbreviated these
names I know not.
The dinner over, the music room quickly filled. Some of our
pianists gave sweet music, but so far above a part of the assembly
that I’ve no doubt they longed for their “fiddles and banjoes.” By
request, they struck up a wailing sound, which rose and fell, with
words somewhat after this style:
“The ark’s a movin’, movin’, movin’,
The ark’s a movin’, move right along.”
This was so sad, that something joyful was called for, and again
the strain rung out; old men and women moving their bodies to
keep their own time, which each one seemed to do regardless of
his neighbor, closing up each line, and almost each word, with
such hemi-demi-semi-quavers as would have puzzled some of our best
singers. Poor things! the elements of joy had not entered into
their religious life. The minor strain swept over all their heart
experiences, and in spite of the words of their hymns, their music
gave us the echo of their days of bondage, and helped us to thank
God that a brighter life had been ours. To them seemed to come no
middle ground between the “double-shuffle” and the saddest songs
for Christ.
After many a hand-shake and parting blessing to us all, the people
wended their way back to their homes, some to their rude cabins,
saying to one another, “Dis de best day of my life,” “Tank de Lord
for dis good day.”
To our steward we gave the conventional good-bye, but in our hearts
we knew that there was one blessed passage of Scripture applicable
to him, and we doubt not he will hear it some day: “Inasmuch as ye
have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have
done it unto Me.”
This is one picture. I shall be glad soon to show the other side,
and give the contrast between some of those who were gathered at
this feast, and their children, who have enjoyed the privileges of
the school at Berea. L. R.
* * * * *
HYMN.
MRS. E. SPENCE.[A]
Sung at the farewell meeting on the departure of Rev. Mr. and
Mrs. A. P. Miller, and Rev. Mr. and Mrs. A. E. Jackson, as
missionaries to Africa, Nashville, Feb. 18, 1878.
God bless, with special favor,
This consecrated band!
Their trust will never waver,
Led by Thy loving hand!
As to thy call they listen,
Each answers, “Here am I,”
And yet a tear may glisten
Unbidden in the eye!
Thou know’st what ties are breaking
That twine around the heart!
The yearning, and the aching,
When friends and kindred part!
Oh! let them feel Thy presence
Continuously so near,
To compensate the absence
Of all they hold most dear!
As, over land and ocean
They still pursue their way,
The spirit of devotion
Replenish day by day.
When over smooth seas gliding
With hearts attuned to sing,
Or tossed by tempest, hiding
Beneath thy shelt’ring wing!
And when their destination
Is safely reached at last,
Where every mission station
Has boundaries so vast—
Strengthen the willing spirit
For service, till they see
The land which they inherit,
Redeemed and ruled by Thee!
Lord Jesus, lead victorious
The sacramental host,
Until thy kingdom, glorious,
Extend from coast to coast;
The powers of hell be driven
From every conquered zone,
And, even as in heaven,
Thy will on earth be done!
FOOTNOTE:
[A] Mrs. Spence was born in Scotland, in the year that Cary, the
first missionary from England, went out upon his pioneer and
untrodden way eighty years ago. Her heart has been overflowing with
gladness during these days of preparation.
* * * * *
THE INDIANS.
* * * * *
WASHINGTON TERRITORY.
Three Christian Boys and their Letters.
REV. MYRON EELLS, S’KOKOMISH
Our hearts were gladdened, last Sabbath, by receiving into our
Church three of the Indian school-boys, each of them supposed to
be about thirteen years of age. We had kept them on a virtual
probation for nearly a year, until I began to feel that to do so
any longer would be an injury both to themselves and to others.
Their conduct, especially towards their school-teacher, although
not perfect, has been so uniformly Christian that those who were
best acquainted with them felt the best satisfied in regard to
their change of heart. Said a member of our Church of about fifty
years’ Christian experience—who was not here much during the
summer, and hence knew comparatively little about them—after
hearing a full statement, “I wish that some of the white children
whom we have received into the Church had given one half as good
evidence of being Christians as these boys give.” And yet the
Church was satisfied in regard to them. On religious subjects, they
have been most free in communicating both to their teacher and
myself by letter. I have thought that you might be interested in
extracts from some of them, and hence send the following:
“I am going to write to you this day, please help me to get my
father to become a Christian,” (his father is an Indian doctor)
“and I think I will get Andrew and Henry” (the other Christian
boys) “to say a word for my father. I want you to read it to my
father.”
He wrote to his father the following, which I read to him:
“AUG. 3D, 1877.
“MY DEAR-BELOVED FATHER: Your son is a Christian. I am going off
to another road. I am going in a road where it leadeth to heaven,
and you are going to a big road where it leadeth to hell. But now
please return back from hell, I was long time thinking what shall
I do, then my father would be saved from hell. I prayed to God. I
asked God to help my father to become a Christian.”
The letter of another, to his Indian friends:
“You have not read the Bible, for you cannot read, but you have
heard the minister read it to you. You seem not to pay good
attention, but you know how Jesus was crucified, how he was put
on the Cross, how he was mocked and whipped, and they put a crown
of thorns, and he was put to death.”
The letter of the other to me:
“O, how I love all the Indians. I wish they should all become
Christians. If you please, tell them about Jesus coming. It makes
me feel bad because the Indians are not ready.”
To his Indian friends:
“The first time I became a Christian, I found it a very hard
thing to do, but I kept asking Jesus to help me, and so He did,
for I grew stronger and stronger. So, my Friends, if you will
just accept Jesus as your King, He will help you to the end of
your journey. You must trust wholly in Jesus’ strength, and
yield your will, your time, your talents, your reputation, your
strength, your property, your all, to be henceforth and forever
subject to His divine control; your hearts to love Him, your
tongues to speak for Him, your hands and feet to work for Him,
and your lives to serve Him, when and where and as His Spirit may
direct. Don’t be proud, but be very good Christians; be brave and
do what is right.
“YOUR YOUNG FRIEND.”
* * * * *
Indian Welcome to an Agent.
DR. I. L. MAHAN, RED CLIFF, WIS.
The payment recently made to the Bois Forte Indians was one of the
most pleasant and agreeable I have ever made. The Indians received
me with a salute (of blank cartridges) fired from their guns. On
each side of the team, as I passed through their camp, the Indian
men, women and children were in line on each side of the road for
a quarter of a mile, and such hurrahs and rejoicings I have seldom
witnessed.
* * * * *
THE CHINESE.
* * * * *
“CALIFORNIA CHINESE MISSION.”
Auxiliary to the American Missionary Association.
PRESIDENT: Rev. J. K. McLean, D. D. VICE-PRESIDENTS: Rev. A. L
Stone, D. D., Thomas O. Wedderspoon, Esq., Rev. T. K. Noble, Hon.
F. F. Low, Rev. I. E. Dwinell, D. D., Hon. Samuel Cross, Rev. S.
H. Willey, D. D., Edward P. Flint, Esq., Rev. J. W. Hough, D. D.,
Jacob S. Taber, Esq.
DIRECTORS: Rev. George Moor, D. D., Hon. E. D. Sawyer, Rev. W. E.
Ijams, James M. Haven, Esq., Rev. Joseph Rowell, E. P. Sanford,
Esq., H. W. Severance, Esq.
SECRETARY: Rev. W. C. Pound. TREASURER: E. Palache, Esq.
* * * * *
The Chinese New Year—Mob Denunciations—The Great Commission
Lessened—Conversions.
REV. W. C. POND, SAN FRANCISCO.
The Chinese New Year festival began Feb. 1st. It was observed for
five days, the first three being “the great days of the feast.”
As the Chinese excuse themselves from manual labor during those
days, worship and business, and sociality absorb the time. At
this festival, accounts must be squared, or, at any rate, brought
to some settlement. Votive offerings, with the smoke of incense,
abound in the temples—_bribes_ with which good luck is purchased
from their gods. The city authorities had forbidden the use of
fire-crackers, greatly to the chagrin of the Joss-worshippers, but
the din of the gongs was such that even an idol, it would seem,
might almost be made to hear. For our Christian Chinese it was,
first of all, a week of prayer. Not to be out-done even by their
own former-selves, they began their meetings at eleven o’clock on
the last night of the old year, and welcomed the new one in its
first hours, with worship to Jesus, their new friend and Saviour.
They say that it would be a shame, if they were not willing to give
hours to Him, which, but for Him, they would still have been giving
to senseless blocks of wood, or to pictures hung upon the wall.
Each day there was more or less of time devoted to social worship,
and the rest to friendly calls among the brethren of different
missions, and the reception of calls from American friends, or else
to the transaction of the annual business of their Association. The
carefulness with which they attend to this business, might well be
emulated by many a strong church. The amounts involved are small,
of course, while the talk might seem superabundant to taciturn
people like us; but the exactitude in accounts, the watchfulness
against debts, the punctuality in their mutual settlements, if
grafted into the working of many a church that I have known, would
greatly help its peace and growth, and even its good name.
The “era of good feeling” towards the Chinese, is, doubtless,
nearer now than it was eight months ago. I affirm this _by faith_,
and not because I can see, as yet, even the first streaks of
its dawning. It seems as though the out-cries, “Down with the
Chinese!” “The Chinamen must go, peaceably if they will, forcibly
if they must,” would have become, by this time, monotonous and
wearisome, but every Monday’s morning paper reports a gathering
of from 3,000 to 6,000 people standing on a sand-lot near our new
City Hall, in the midst often of wind and rain, and listening for
an hour or two, while Kearney and Willock repeat their barbarous
refrain. We cannot prevent a depressing effect of this upon our
work. Christians get afraid of it. One of our pastors, entering
upon temporary service with an inland church, wrote me as follows
a few days since: “On my first Sabbath here, a poor Chinaman came
to church to hear me. The next day I found him out, and he is a
Christian. He is hungering and thirsting for the word of life, and
I thought—what a splendid nucleus that would be for a class. I
sought the officers of the church for their consent and approval
to such an organization. Then came swiftly the ominous shake of
the head, which I now so well know, and I was told that ‘public
sentiment would not bear it.’ My heart aches for them, and I pray
fervently to know my duty.” I am utterly at a loss to know how
such church officers read the Great Commission. I understand what
the _plain English_ of it is: I think I could study it out in the
Greek. Does anybody know of any rendering of it, according to which
the Chinese are left out? It not, how is it that we have so many of
these head-shaking Christians all over California?
Furthermore, prejudice breeds prejudice, and the heathen Chinese
are beginning even to hate the language thus abused to curse and
slander them. They have no longer any appetite for the bait with
which we have been fishing for their souls. But if our schools are
thus unavoidably less attractive to them, and some of the seats
get empty, we try to do the better work with such as remain. And
the gracious Spirit adds His blessing still. Five were received to
the First Congregational Church in Oakland at its last communion.
This week two from the Barnes school have been reported to me
as persuaded to be Christians, and desirous of joining the
Association. What I have several times before said is still true,
I think—that no month passes in which I do not hear from some one
or more of our schools, of souls coming out of darkness into light.
The consequence is that hearty Christians once fairly engaged in
this work become enthusiastic in it. One teacher writes: “To try
to prepare the way for the enlightenment of these darkened minds
has been the highest privilege of my life. I do not forget the
blessedness of leading my own children and other young people to
Jesus, but in the offices of mother and teacher, this work has come
to me as a matter of course, while the other is the realization
of one of my earliest and most fondly cherished desires. I have
found it pleasant, even when I could get no word or sign that the
faintest shadow of my meaning was comprehended, for I felt that I
might be starting thought and opening the way for truth to come in
by and by; but when, in some instances, there has been a sudden
interest manifested, and such half-incredulous, half-delighted
responses come as ‘What! Jesus died for me?’ ‘What! Jesus Christ my
best friend!’ ‘Yes, I will love Him!’ I have felt one such moment a
complete compensation for a whole lifetime of sorrow and toil.”
* * * * *
LETTER FROM AH JAM.
SANTA BARBARA, _January 12th_.
MR. POND:
_Dear Sir_—How is your health? I should be glad to have you to
write me another report about you school. If you find any interest
chapter I shall enjoy it if you will let me know. I cannot explain
it which is the best of all [i.e. cannot tell which chapters are
the best]. It seems to me very hard to understood the Bible. I wish
I had more leisure for my study, or to follow you while I shall
learn a great deal. I was very much troubled when I stayed on board
ship; she had four Chinese besides me. There was nobody instructed
in anything like the gospel. They thought it was dreadful to
believe in Christ. It makes them swear, grumble, and smoke opium.
They are walking in the way of destruction. I felt very sorry for
them. I told them several times what we ought to do in this world
while we live. They said they would never be afraid when they die
where the soul would go. I presume they will do all things as they
please. I left my place, and came on shore two weeks since. But I
cannot find any situation yet, because it is very dull. Perhaps I
will go to the city next year, and then I shall see you again. We
do remember you when we pray; we would like you pray for us, too,
if you please. Your sincerely,
AH JAM, AND THE OTHERS.
* * * * *
THE CHILDREN’S PAGE.
* * * * *
A SICK BOY’S LETTER TO HIS TEACHER.
I thank you for the beautiful papers that you sent me. I read a
piece in one they call “Glad Tidings.” It was about the dissipated
father and the dying child. He was a bad man, and used bad
_languish_, and cause his whole family to be miserable; and his
little son would go to him and crawl up on his knee and tell him
about the good God, and the tears would gush from his eye. The
little boy said to his father: “Father, you are crying; what is
the matter?” “I am afraid, my son, I am going to lose you—you are
going to die.” “Well, father, I know I am going to die, but I am
not afraid to die, for I will go to Jesus.”
I read that piece, and my little heart did feel so warm. I am
trying to be a good boy, and pray to God that I may be a good boy.
I am trying to be a better boy every day.
From your dear scholar,
M.T.
MONTGOMERY, ALA.
* * * * *
LIVE IN GOD’S SUNSHINE.
“Well, Aunt Polly, here you are again on the doorsteps. It seems to
me you almost live on them.”
Old Polly raised her faded eyes to the face of her friend, and,
laughing, said:
“Yes, dear, dat’s jus’ so! Jim says ‘We mought build a house all
doo’ steps and nothin’ else, fo’ granny, ’cause she lives dar an’
nowhar else.’”
“I suppose you like to see the people, and to hear the children
prattle as they go by to school,” said the lady.