are laid out, and the room is ready for the teacher’s visit.
Nobody knows when the Indian girls would think it worth while to
change their garments, or how they would be laundried, if it were
not for the week’s inspection. As it is, the piles are most of them
full and white and neatly folded, and the rather stolid faces grow
eager as they look over the teacher’s shoulder to see whether a
zero or a five on the record is to reward the work.
Soon the matron’s room is a busy place. Girls in all the chairs and
girls on the floor, all manner of rents and rips and holes to be
repaired, and the motherly lady who has done the work many times
for her own children and grandchildren, goes among them busy and
patient, finds patches and pieces, gives a hint here and a lesson
there, till the garments are whole again.
When the morning’s work is done, the lawn in front of Virginia
Hall becomes a gay play-ground. See-saws and jump-ropes, balls and
croquet mallets are kept busy all the afternoon. A few fortunate
girls borrow a boat from one of the teachers and row in the pretty
creek. The boys come now and then to the edge of the ground and
look rather longingly over the boundaries, but turn back and find a
vent for their spirits in foot-ball and leap-frog and the parallel
bars, remembering that Washington’s Birthday comes next week and it
will all be common ground. The games last till the sun sends its
last slanting beams over the creek and the lawn and the six o’clock
bell announces that the day of work and pleasure is over.
Before the shadows of night fall heavily, the school assembles in
the chapel. The hush of worship comes upon the crowded room. The
song of praise and voice of petition rise, and then while all heads
bow in silent prayer the burden and pain and desire of 500 hearts
are told to Him who understands. So another week ends; its record
is made of success and failure, of work and sacrifice.
* * * * *
REVIVAL IN CENTRAL CHURCH AND STRAIGHT UNIVERSITY, NEW ORLEANS.
W. S. ALEXANDER, D.D.
We have occasion to bless the “Evangelical Alliance,” which, under
the Divine direction, introduced the observance of the “Week of
Prayer.” It has been with us every year a period of religious
awakening. Its coming is anxiously and prayerfully anticipated.
Through the month of December our prayer meetings were tender
and earnest. The thoughts of the people seemed centered upon the
longed-for presence of the Holy Spirit and the “Week of Prayer,” as
the gate-way to a glorious experience of spiritual refreshment.
The first week in January was marked by growing earnestness on
the part of God’s people, but no real case of inquiry among the
unconverted. The second week brought some to the “mourners’ seats,”
but no important break in the ranks of sinners. We all felt that
the Lord was drawing near. The congregations greatly increased
until the audience room was entirely filled. The third week of our
continuous services was exceedingly precious. The Holy Spirit came
in power. The truth preached in great simplicity was owned of God
in the awakening of nearly one hundred souls. On many occasions
thirty were on the anxious seats, weeping and calling upon God for
mercy. From these seats on two successive evenings nine persons
arose and said they felt the assurance of forgiveness and a change
of heart. During the five weeks of continuous services 66 professed
hope in the Saviour, of which number 25 were students of our
University. From our family of boarding students at Stone Hall
eleven were brought under conviction, who have joyfully consecrated
themselves to the service of the Saviour.
It was a very tender and impressive scene where among the
“inquirers after God” were so many of our bright, mature students.
We hope most earnestly that they all may be strong for God and
everything that is good.
On the first Sabbath in February, 81 were received to Central
Church on profession of their faith, and on the two succeeding
Sabbaths four more, 35 in all. I mention, as a fact showing
the prevalence of infant baptism, that of the 35 admitted on
profession only nine received baptism, the remaining 26 having
been christened. Our friends in the North will be glad to know
that of the nearly 100 awakened and the 66 converted only six
manifested any undue excitement, and but one of the number had been
an attendant upon our church services. The church is stronger in
every respect. The average attendance upon our Sabbath services is
larger by nearly 100, and there is every indication of a steady and
healthful growth.
* * * * *
HOW THE FREEDMEN CHILDREN DO IT.
Mr. E. C. Silsby, of Selma, Ala., writes:
Our Sunday-school have been interested in the proposed missionary
steamboat “John Brown,” for the Mendi Mission. Several Sundays ago
we voted to take the contributions of subsequent sessions until
they should amount to $10, to be sent on for the boat. A picture
of the boat was drawn on the board and the contribution of classes
recorded as given. The result is shown by the enclosed order for
$10.20. A class of little girls who have a “mite box,” not only
voted its contents, but held a fair for the sale of articles which
had been prepared by their own deft fingers, under the direction of
their teacher, applying the proceeds to the fund. May the boat do
much toward carrying the “glad tidings.”
Rev. Evarts Kent, of Atlanta, Ga., writes:
I send you draft for the amount of our annual collection for the
A. M. A. You will be interested to know that the contributions
were mainly in small sums, from five cents to one dollar, and that
there were eighty-five different contributions. I enclose you
specimens of the envelopes I had printed for the purpose. I think
they added somewhat to the amount. One little boy of ten years of
age brought his envelope with five cents in it‒the most generous
contribution of all. He is the eldest of three brothers, all in
the Storrs school, kept there by a mother who is not a Christian,
and extremely poor‒so poor that when visited in sickness the other
day by Miss Stevenson and Mrs. Kent the only dishes in the house
were a tin plate, a tin spoon, one cup and a broken knife; we are
helping them just now; but it was most touching when they called
at the house last Saturday evening and found this lad getting
his missionary envelope, received the Sunday before, “ready for
to-morrow.” I doubt if Our Saviour has seen anything like it since
that day when in Judea He was looking into the treasury.
* * * * *
CHURCH AT LITTLE ROCK, ARK.
BY REV. B. F. FOSTER.
A number of the friends of the A. M. A. would no doubt be glad to
hear from our church-work here. Since our dedicatory exercises,
which proved to be such an inspiration to our little band of
believers, we have been marching onward and upward.
The first day of this year and the first Sabbath in the month was
our communion season. A delightful season it was, too. We had
intended beginning a series of meetings to last four or five weeks,
but the cold and inclement weather prevented us from putting on the
plastering, and we could not, therefore, commence with any hope of
success. We decided to defer till warmer weather. Notwithstanding
this impediment, the word found lodging in the hearts of twelve
of our young people, all of whom connected themselves with the
Congregational Church. We also received one by recommendation.
All of these seem to be hopeful conversions. Our Sabbath meetings
are well attended. As soon as we make the last payment on our
church-lot‒which will be the 18th of February‒we hope to complete
our building. The insurance on it is $1,000. When completed, its
cost will be $2,000. We are waiting very anxiously for the erection
of the “Edward Smith College” here.
* * * * *
DEDICATION OF CHURCH AT LULING, TEXAS.
On the 26th of February the new Congregational Church edifice was
dedicated, Supt. Roy assisting Pastor Hillson. The house is 24 × 46
feet‒is tastefully built. The lot was given by Mr. T. W. Pierce, of
Boston, the president of the Galveston & San Antonio Railroad, “The
Sun Set Route;” and this association assisted in the building.
Miss M. E. Green, our teacher at Flatonia, thirty miles away,
came up with her baby organ to play it and lead the music of the
occasion, adding much to the enjoyment of the same. She found
here some young men, now in business, whom she had taught as boys
elsewhere, and whom she had trained in singing, now to join her in
this service.
* * * * *
AFRICA.
* * * * *
REV. MR. LADD AT KHARTOUM.
KHARTOUM, Jan. 9, 1882.
We are in Khartoum at last, and glad to get here after the long
Desert journey and the slow sail from Berber. We arrived on
Saturday, the 7th, a little after noon. The American Consul came on
board to welcome us. He is said to be the richest man in Khartoum,
and we found that he had spared himself no trouble and expense
in fitting up rooms for our use while here. We are indeed very
comfortably situated.
Our arrival seemed to be a great event in the city, and all the
prominent people were anxious to be among the first to welcome us.
One party of six gentlemen called. They said they had heard that we
had come to found schools and churches, that they were delighted at
the idea, and hoped that we would commence at once at Khartoum, as
their children were suffering for the want of education, there not
being a school of any kind in Khartoum. One of them had formerly
given a large tract of land for this purpose, but it had not been
used; if we would accept it, it was ours now, and we might build
upon it as soon as we pleased. There is a report current, which
seems to have some foundation in fact, that there have been serious
troubles during the last two or three weeks in the vicinity of
Fashoda, near the Sobat.
January 11.‒Giegler Pasha has just returned from Fashoda, and this
is his statement of the present difficulty in the Soudan:
“A fanatical Arab by the name of Mohammad Achmet, who lived upon an
island in the Nile, south of here, by his much fasting and praying,
finally got his head turned, and believed that he was a prophet,
sent to be a Saviour of the people. He wrote letters all around the
country, and soon had a large following. Many flocked around his
standard, especially from among those disaffected ones who wished
to escape the payment of their taxes. They finally became obnoxious
to the government, and a detachment of 120 men was sent against
them on the island. These were not properly handled and were slain
at once, as fast as they landed. The leader now feared to remain
longer on the river, and crossing over with all the men, women and
children, who had gathered around him, he retired to a mountain,
some distance back, called Jebel Geder. It was the policy of the
government now to let them alone, but a new Governor of Fashoda
having been appointed, he must needs show his zeal by getting
after the rebels. He frequently asked permission to attack them,
and finally, contrary to orders, he collected the garrisons from
the Sobat Station, from Kaka, and from Fashoda, about 400 regular
soldiers, and taking with him 200 Shillooks, and other irregulars,
under the king or chief of the Shillooks, he marched against the
rebels.
“This chief of the Shillooks was a fine young man‒loyal and
energetic‒who administered affairs among his people in the
interests of the Government. The advance was made by forced
marches. They were six days on the way, and when the ‘fool’ reached
the mountain, instead of resting his men, he commenced the attack
after a two hours march on the seventh day, when the men were worn
out and utterly unfit for it. They were all cut to pieces and
slain. About 60 were taken prisoners, and only 70 out of about 600
escaped. The Governor of Fashoda was killed, and also the Chief of
the Shillooks, which we greatly regret, as we intended to make him
a Pasha. He will be a great loss to us. We wanted to send him to
Cairo, as he was anxious to see the Khedive.
“It is difficult to estimate the number of those who have assembled
around this fanatical leader, but probably it is in the vicinity of
1,500. We feared that they might take Fashoda, and so I went down
to see about it. I have left troops at Fashoda, but the Sobat is
abandoned, as there is really nothing there worth saving, except
a few straw huts, and they are welcome to them if they want them.
The station of Kaka is also left without a garrison. The people
have become uneasy, and these events, taken with the news of the
troubles at Cairo, have frightened them. We are expecting troops
from Cairo, but not to put down this muss, which we hope will all
be over before they arrive. We are short of troops at all points,
and need more to protect the country. I would not advise you to go
by boat. Wait and go by government steamer, if you go at all. I
have just returned from Fashoda, and these are about the facts in
the case.”
The above statement does not differ materially from the current
reports, except in the number of the insurgents, and that has
probably been greatly exaggerated in the minds of the people. It
must also be remembered that this is the best phase which the
government, wishing to smooth the matter over and hush it up, can
put upon it. The probable number of the insurgents is about five or
six thousand. They are now armed with some 600 Remington rifles,
besides their own native weapons, and are complete masters of the
country west of Kaka, and towards Kardofan. They are said to have
secret agents in Khartoum, who send them word of the movements of
the government. Their numbers are also said to be increasing every
day. Now, taking into consideration all that has been stated, we
seem to be shut up to one of three courses, viz.:
1. To follow the advice of the more timid, and considering our
journey necessarily brought to an end, to look about here, learn
all that we can, and then to return. This has been suggested as
perhaps our only course by some who wish to display “the better
part of valor.” I may say that I have all along felt that while
things are not as we could wish, that yet a way would be opened for
us to go forward. I cannot bring myself to turn around now and go
back, without at least seeing the Sobat. We both feel that nothing
short of actual danger to life ought to turn us back from our
purpose after coming so far, if we can find the means to go on.
2. To wait here till a government steamer is sent up to Gondokoro,
take passage in it and see the country as best we can. The most we
can learn about this plan is that no steamer is likely to leave
here in less than a month; that it will take fifty days to reach
Gondokoro, on account of the _sud_ and other obstructions, and
that it will not be possible to get away from there before the
rainy season sets in. The _sud_ is the great trouble. Sometimes
whole weeks have to be spent in the marshes in one spot, cutting a
channel through.
3. To get the use of a little steamer in some way and do what we
started out to do‒explore the region of the Sobat. The least that
we can get a steamer for is said to be £12 a day. We cannot expect
to be gone less than a month and do the work well. That would be
£360.
You can understand, I think, what our perplexity is. Our hope
now is to arrange it in some way through Giegler Pasha to get a
steamer at a more reasonable sum. As soon as we can do this, I
think we shall go on, and if we do, the French Consul, an able
French gentleman, and our Consul with others, advise us to ask for
a body-guard of soldiers from the government. We need your prayers,
and I wish we might have your wisdom in this emergency.
* * * * *
CHILDREN’S PAGE.
* * * * *
CHING LING’S PASSPORT.
BY MRS. HARRIET A. CHEEVER.
“And you say there is no hope!”
“None whatever, that we can see.”
“But I am barely five-and-thirty, Doctor. Only think! still in my
early prime,” urged the pleading voice.
“I know it, Fairfax; I know it, my poor fellow; and would
thankfully have it otherwise, but God wills it so. I cannot deceive
you, and your special request was to know the truth.”
“But Heaven knows I was unprepared for it!” was the passionate
rejoinder.
“Try and calm yourself, my friend,” continued the doctor in
low, deliberate tones. “I’ve still another unwelcome piece of
intelligence: Mrs. Carter says she can remain no longer, feeling as
she does, completely worn out with her duties; and just now, with
so many critical cases on my hands, I hardly know where to look for
another nurse. You say there is no friend or relative you could
summon?”
“No; and it makes no sort of difference _who_ comes in Mrs.
Carter’s place; I might as well die alone like a dog, if I’ve got
to hand in my checks at the outset of the game‒confound this heat!”
and the voice even more than the words was full of bitterness and
rebellion.
Dr. Wharton took his hat, but paused again at the bedside.
“I am going around by the Chinese quarter this noon,” he said,
“and will do my best to bring some good assistant. Some of those
Chinamen make excellent nurses. Have you any objection to trying
one?”
“Oh, I don’t care a‒pin who comes,” answered the poor, impatient,
suffering man; and the next moment the doctor left the room as the
nurse glided softly in, and the patient closed his weary eyes.
Philip Fairfax was a man of wealth and education, but his fine
fortune had been sadly misused. Moreover, his naturally sound
physical constitution had been unwarrantably abused by a hard round
of indulgence in dissipation and vice, which had caused him in
his early manhood to fall an easy prey to the dangerous malarial
fever so prevalent at certain seasons, and which now had assumed a
malignant form, rendering recovery almost impossible.
Just previous to the foregoing conversation, a consultation of the
ablest physicians of the county had been held in Mr. Fairfax’s
elegant library, with what result we have already seen.
* * * * *
“Do you give it up, Ching?”
“Yes: me givee up, but trust God still.”
“We tellee you, it impossible; college chances not for Chinese
boys.”
“It not impossible with mine God. All things are possible with Him.
Me only givee up for this term,” was the cheerful reply.
The scene was a Chinese cabin, scantily furnished, but extremely
neat in its simple arrangements. On lines outside, handsomely
made clothes were drying, while on the one large piece of kitchen
furniture in the cabin‒a huge stove‒numerous irons were heating.
Ching Ling, as he was called, was a great overgrown boy of
seventeen, who had picked up religion, as his companions
grotesquely name it, at some of the chapel meetings connected with
one of our institutions for learning. He was a quaint, original
character, and could turn his hand to almost anything useful‒turn
it to good purpose too. He had learned to read, nobody knew how or
when, and now the absorbing, irrepressible longing of his heart was
to get an education, at the college. It made no difference how much
or how often others ridiculed the eager desire, there it remained,
and after some laughable banter on the part of his less ambitious
associates on one occasion, as to his many projects and failures
in attempting an entrance to those halcyon halls, his good-natured
reply was:
“Oh, me wriggly in yet, somehow. You see!”
Ching Ling was ironing briskly and skillfully when Dr. Wharton’s
buggy stopped before the door, and without alighting the doctor
beckoned Ching to come to him.
“Want to earn some money, Ching?” asked the Doctor.
Ching’s delicate hands were instantly held out in mock display of
entreaty.
“Would you go into danger for money, Ching?”
The small hands were quickly withdrawn as he replied:
“Me do no wrong for muchee monee?”
“But would you go into a close, sick room, and nurse a gentleman
who has a dangerous disease‒a man perhaps dying with fever?”
“Yes, Doctor; me no afraid of the sickness or the fever. Mine God
would go with Ching; no God, all danger; with God, all safee.”
“Come on, then, I want you right away.”
* * * * *
The days grew hotter and the fever grew fiercer, and the
requirements of the irritable, dying man became almost unendurable;
but the ungainly Ching never flinched as with untiring, patient
hands he waited upon the hard master whose young life was fast
burning itself out in the relentless fires of the unyielding fever.
Mr. Fairfax had been fitfully dozing at the close of a weaker,
but slightly more comfortable day, when, on suddenly opening his
eyes, he saw Ching catching a peep into a little, dark book he had
noticed before‒one he had evidently carried about with him.
All at once he asked in a thin, vexed voice:
“What confounded book is that you’re always reading?”
The slant eyes filled with tears as a hurt voice replied:
“This mine Bible, my Christ book; my passport in this book; this no
_confound_ book, this mine dear Bible!”
“Your passport!” and the thin voice really had the semblance of a
laugh it. “What kind of a passport, pray!”
“Listen: ‘There is no other name under Heaven given among men,
whereby we must be saved. The blood of Jesus Christ his son
cleanseth us from all sin,’”‒here Ching was interrupted:
“Does it say _all_ sin, boy? look sharp, now!”
“Yes, master; all sin.”
“Let me see.”
A faint ray of light was admitted while the poor weak eyes scanned
the page; yes, it was there, sure enough.
Then the sick man, roused to momentary energy, asked questions‒a
few that night, more the next day, until by degrees he learned
all the story of poor Ching’s conversion; his eager desire for
learning, and as he read the Bible more and more to his now willing
listener, a new light and hope dawned for the sick man.
We cannot take space to tell minutely how Ching cried and rejoiced
when one day Mr. Fairfax had a lawyer come and so arrange his will
as to handsomely endow the college, also giving Ching‒faithful boy
that he was‒a “chance;” but this was not the best of it. Ching
prayed so hard, and was so skillful in his wonderful ministrations
at the sick man’s bedside, and the calming, soothing influence of
his passport, his “Christ book,” was so blessed, that, after all,
the naturally strong physical nature of the man asserted itself, to
the amazement and gratitude of the physicians, and Philip Fairfax
lived to be the almoner of his own bounties.
And now Ching Ling’s pointed fingers hold a pen powerful for good
among his countrymen, and Philip Fairfax is one of the chief
benefactors of the blessed institution whose inmates dearly love
the kind Christian gentleman, spending so much of his time and
money in their interest, while always in the breast pocket of
his coat is a little dark book, the very counterpart of Ching’s,
containing also the rich man’s passport in time to come, “to
mansions in the skies.”
* * * * *
RECEIPTS FOR FEBRUARY, 1882.
* * * * *
MAINE, $885.25.
Andover. Mrs. E. P. 1.00
Augusta. South Cong. Ch. and Soc. ($30 of
which from B. E. Potter to const. FRANK A.
LITTLE, L. M.) 63.00
Biddeford. J. N. A. 1.00
Blue Hill. “A Friend” 1.00
Brunswick. Mrs. David Patten. 5.00
Ellsworth. Mrs. L. T. Phelps. 10.00
Falmouth. First Cong. Ch., Bbl. of C. and $1
_for Freight, for Wilmington, N.C._ 1.00
Farmington. Cong. Sab. Sch., _for Student Aid,
Normal Sch., Wilmington, N.C._ 5.00
Limington. Arzella Boothby. 2.00
Machias. Ladies, 3 Bbls. of C. and $2.09 _for
Freight, for Wilmington, N.C._ 2.09
Newcastle. Second Cong. Ch. and Soc. 18.00
New Gloucester. “Friends,” by Mary K. Lunt,
_for Student Aid, Selma, Ala._ 12.00
Portland. Ladies Circle and Sab. Sch. of High
St. Cong. Ch., Set Furniture _for
Wilmington, N.C._
Portland. E. G. 1.00
Skowhegan. Mrs. L. W. Weston. 5.00
South Berwick. Dea. I. P. Yeaton, $10; Hugh
and Philip Lewis, $3. 13.00
South Freeport. Ladies of Cong. Ch., Bbl. of
C. and $3 _for Freight, for Wilmington, N.C._ 3.00
Yarmouth. First Cong. Ch., Bbl. Of C., and
$1.86 _for Freight, for Wilmington N.C._ 1.86
Ladies in Maine, by Mary E Smith, Chairman
Com., _for support of Lady Missionaries at
Wilmington, N.C., and Selma, Ala_. 670.30
-------
815.25
LEGACIES.
Bangor. Bequest of Miss Maria Thoreau, by Geo.
A. Thatcher. 50.00
Bethel. Estate of Sarah J. Chapman, by A. W.
Valentine, Ex. 20.00
-------
885.25
NEW HAMPSHIRE, $429.89.