and my anxiety was almost painful. I was appointed to preach the
ordination sermon for the three brethren to be set apart to the
ministry, and in my selection and treatment of a subject I had
but one desire and thought—to deepen the impression already made,
and to persuade sinners to make their peace with God. I said to
the brethren, “We will change the usual order of services, and
the sermon will come last to-night.” God helped me to preach. I
felt that His word went home to many hearts. The church could not
nearly contain the throngs who came. The door-ways were crowded,
and numbers stood beneath all the windows. The appeal to rise and
come to Jesus was responded to by 40, half of whom were men. None
could doubt the presence and power of the Holy Ghost. The tidal
wave was moving on, but had not yet reached its height. On Sunday
morning I took a 5 o’clock breakfast and started for two distant
churches, the one 15 miles away and the other 25 miles distant from
New Iberia, leaving St. Paul’s church in the care of the pastors
who had remained over the Conference. As I was passing the house
of one of the brethren I was called in to see the most prominent
man in the community among the colored people, formerly State
senator, who was under the deepest and most agonizing conviction
of sin. He had risen from his bed two hours before the break of
day, and had come to this house to beg the brethren to pray for
him. The household were aroused, a prayer circle was formed around
him, and they interceded for him with heartfelt earnestness. When
I went in he was pacing the room, his tears were flowing like
summer rain, and cries of agony broke from his lips. “What does
this mean, Mr. Alexander?” he said to me. I replied, “It means, my
dear friend, that God is speaking to you, and entreating you to
repent and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ.” We knelt together. I
prayed for him; and he then and there offered up to God the prayer
of a contrite, heart-broken man. I shall always remember one or
two expressions in that prayer. “O God! Thou hast always been kind
and good to me. Thou hast crowned my life with blessings, and I
have been Thine enemy. O God! spare me and save me. My poor little
babes who are in heaven, go to Jesus and ask Him to forgive me. All
Christians in heaven, go to the Saviour and intercede for me.”
I was obliged to leave him to meet my appointments. I returned on
Monday. The pastor and people met me and said, “You cannot go to
New Orleans to-day; you must preach to-night.” I gladly consented.
Never did I feel myself so completely in God’s hands. It was an
unspeakable joy to preach the precious Gospel that night. I again
appealed to all who felt their need of forgiveness to come forward
and begin a Christian life. As though moved by one impulse, SIXTY
at once came forward and fell upon their knees. I saw before me 30
men from 18 to 70 years of age, and as many women. With prayer and
song and exhortation the meeting continued till nearly midnight.
We could not close it a moment sooner. Eight or ten found peace in
believing in Jesus on their knees that night.
I was compelled to return to New Orleans on Tuesday. It was God’s
work, and He carried it forward gloriously. About 50 have already
joined the church, including the man of whom I have particularly
spoken. His confession of Christ in the church was manly and
thrilling. I am in almost daily receipt of letters from the young
converts. Their joy is deep, peaceful and intelligent. I feel how
inadequately I have described this wonderful work of grace. I have
left much for our friends to infer; but even then they can hardly
conceive the warmth, the depth and the glory of this work of God.
I am profoundly grateful for the Conference of 1879, and desire to
say to our friends that the “signs of promise” for our small band
of Congregational churches in Louisiana were never so bright as
to-day. Let those who have ever been the friends of the colored
people take fresh heart and courage, and push forward the work,
till brighter, richer, grander results are attained.
* * * * *
THE INDIANS.
THE SPICE OF MISSIONARY LIFE.
Rev. Myron Eells, S’Kokomish, W. T.
This frontier life among the Indians has its romance, some things
being pleasant and some not so pleasant. The white people in the
region where I travel are generally as kind as they can be; the
Indians seldom do a favor without wishing pay for it, though that
is not always so; but the elements are sometimes antagonistic.
At one time I was returning from Seabeck in a canoe, thirty miles
distant, after preaching, with two Indians. We live three miles
above the mouth of the S’kokomish River, but everywhere around its
mouth are mud flats, which are very troublesome at low tide. At
nine o’clock at night we reached the mouth of the river, with the
tide low and still running out. The Indians thought that they could
find the channel, but in the darkness they made a mistake and ran
on to the flats, where we remained until the tide turned. It was
chilly, as a November night generally is. We had an overcoat and
pair of blankets which kept us somewhat comfortable, but it was
four o’clock in the morning before we reached home.
Again, I started with eight canoes from Port Gamble for Seabeck,
twenty miles, but a strong head wind arose. The Indians worked
hard for five hours, when nearly all gave out, having traveled
only ten miles, and we camped on the beach. It rained also, and
the wind blew stronger, so that the trees were constantly falling
around us. I had only a pair of blankets, an overcoat and a mat
with me, but having obtained another mat of the Indians, I made a
slight roof over me with it, and went to sleep. About two o’clock
in the morning I was aroused by the Indians, when I learned that a
very high tide had come and drowned them out. My bed was on higher
ground than theirs, but in fifteen minutes that ground was three
or four inches under water. We waded around, put our things in
the canoes, and soon, wet and cold, in the middle of February, we
started. There was still some rain and wind, and rowing by turns in
order to keep from suffering, it took us four hours to reach our
destination.
I started from Dunginess for Elkwa, a distance of twenty-five
miles, on horseback, but after proceeding ten miles the horse
became so lame that he could go no farther. I could not well get
another one, so I was obliged to travel on foot; but soon I reached
Morse Creek, and could find no way of crossing. The stream was
quite swift, having been swollen by recent rains. The best way
seemed to be to ford it; so after taking off some of my clothes, I
started in. It was only about three feet deep, but so swift that it
was difficult to stand, and cold as December; but with a stick to
feel my way, I crossed, and it only remained for me to get warm,
which I soon did by climbing a high hill.
Coming from Elkwa on a previous trip, on horseback, with a friend,
we were obliged to travel on the beach for eight miles, as there
was no other road. The tide was quite high, the wind was blowing
and the waves came in very roughly. There were many trees lying on
the beach, around which we were obliged to canter as fast as we
could when the waves were out. But one time my friend who was ahead
just passed safely, while I was caught by the wave, which came up
to my side, and a part of which went over my head. It was very
fortunate that my horse was not carried off his feet.
Another of our experiences, which is very unpleasant, is with
the vermin, especially the fleas, which dwell constantly with
the Indians and with some of the whites. I stood one evening
and preached in one of their houses, when I am satisfied that I
scratched every half minute during the service; for, although I
stood them as long as I could, I could not help it. I would quietly
take up one foot and rub it against the other leg; put my hand in
my pocket or behind my back, and treat the creatures as gently as I
could, and the like.
Once in a while I am obliged to stay over night in one of their
houses in the winter, a thing I seldom do unless there is no white
man’s house near; even in summer they are afraid the panthers will
eat me up if I sleep outside; but between the fleas, rats and smoke
(for they often keep the house full of smoke all night), sleep is
not very refreshing, and the next morning I feel more like a piece
of bacon than a minister.
But Indian houses are not the only unpleasant ones. Here we are at
a hotel, the best in a milling town of four or five hundred people;
but the bar-room is filled with tobacco smoke almost as thick as
the smoke from the fires which often fills an Indian house. Here
about fifty men spend a great portion of the night (some of them
all night) in drinking, gambling and smoking. The house is used to
it, for the rooms directly over the bar-room are saturated with
the smoke, and I am assigned to one of these rooms. Before I get
to sleep the smoke has so filled my nostrils that I cannot breathe
through them, and at midnight I wake up with a headache so severe
that I can scarcely hold up my head for the next twenty-four hours.
It is not so bad, however, but that I can do a little thinking on
this wise: Who are the lowest, the Indians or these whites? The
smoke in each of their houses is of about equal thickness; that of
the Indians, however, is clean smoke from wood; that of the whites
filthy from tobacco. The Indian has sense enough to make holes in
the roof where some of it may escape; the white man does not even
that much. The Indian sits or lies on or near the ground, beneath
a great portion of it; the white man puts a portion of his guests
and his ladies’ parlor in rooms directly over it. Sleeping in the
Indian smoke, I come out well, though feeling like smoked bacon,
and a thorough wash cures it; but sleeping in the white man’s smoke
I come out sick, and the brain has to be washed.
But these are the sharp spice. There is another side, more like
currant jelly. The people are generally as kind as they can be. “We
will give you the best we have,” is what is often told me, and they
do it. Here are houses, where I occasionally stop a week at a time,
and the people will take nothing for it. Here is a region for forty
miles, where a man’s company is supposed to pay for his lodgings
at any house. Now I meet a man who offers to go home, half a mile,
on purpose to get me a dinner; or a girl, with whose family I am
very slightly acquainted, stands on the porch as I pass and says,
“Mister, have you been to dinner? You had better stop and have
some.” Here is a hotel-keeper, who has sold whiskey for fifteen
years, who puts me in his best room, one fitted up for private use,
and will take nothing for it. Now I am invited into the home of the
superintendent of a large mill, and during the two years and a half
that I have occasionally preached at the place I have spent seven
weeks in his family, yet he will never take anything for it, and
hardly allow me to thank him. Again, here is a steamer, which has
always carried me free whenever myself or family wished to travel
on it, and which during two years and a half has actually given
me sixty or seventy-five dollars’ worth of travel. Then there is
another which runs irregularly, but whose captain says, “Whenever
you or your family or your Indian and canoe wish to travel where
I am going, I will take you all free,” and who has actually made
extra effort with his steamer in order to help me.
Indians, too, are not wholly devoid of gratitude. Now it is a
funeral. They are often accustomed to make presents at such times
to their friends who attend. “Take this money,” they say to me,
as they give me two or three dollars; “do not refuse; it is our
custom, for you come to comfort us with Christ’s words.” Again, I
am at a great festival, and am there on purpose to protect them
from drunkenness and other evils equally bad; so they hand me seven
dollars and a half, saying, “You have come a long distance to help
us; we cannot give you food as we do these Indians, as you do not
eat with us,” (and generally I do not, if I can avoid it); “take
this money, it will help to pay your board.” Or, again, they carry
me nearly a hundred miles free, in order that I may teach them and
dedicate a church for them.
God is good to put these kind thoughts into the hearts of the
people, and not the least good thing He has put in the Bible is
that verse about the giving of a cup of cold water.
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 C. 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 Mooar, D. D., Hon. E. D. Sawyer, Rev. E. P.
Baker, James M. Haven, Esq., Rev. Joseph Rowell, Rev. John Kimball,
E. P. Sanford, Esq.
SECRETARY: Rev. W. C. Pond. TREASURER: E. Palache, Esq.
THE “CONGREGATIONAL WAY” IN MISSION WORK.
REV. WM. C. POND, SAN FRANCISCO.
There are two methods of dealing with converts from heathenism,
whether in our own land or that from which they come. One is that
which treats them as children to be provided for and controlled;
the other is that which welcomes them at once as co-workers—as
brethren, having only one Master, and that _our_ Master, even
Christ. According to the one, the missionary lays the plans, and
the converts work by it, if at all; to consult them would puff
them up and make them presumptuous. According to the other,—while,
of course, those who are responsible for the use of funds must
control in regard to expenditures, and, consequently, must retain
a veto power as to almost all projects for concerted work,—still
suggestions from the brethren are cordially welcomed and carefully
considered, and they are encouraged to work for Christ, with
earnest prayer for _His_ guidance, each in the way Christ points
out specially to him. The one is apt to say, “Do as you see
us do, accepting our standard and walking by our rules;” the
other inculcates principles—faith, hope, charity, and believes
that with these in the heart the young disciple may become a
law unto himself. I scarcely need say which of these two is the
“Congregational way.”
There are various objections made to this way; one, and the chief,
is that it is not adapted to these undeveloped Christians—babes in
Christ. They are but children, and must be treated as such. It is
urged on foreign missionary fields with greater show of reason
possibly, but it is the same objection which for so many years
hindered the planting of Congregational churches in our new
settlements at the West. We were told that Congregationalism was
good for New England, but not stout enough for the rough-and-tumble,
heterogeneous communities in the younger States. It is the same
which is now urged against Congregationalism in the South. The
negro race, we are assured, is too emotional, too ignorant, too
easily carried away by every wind of doctrine or of feeling, to be
entrusted with self-government.
If you work upon this scheme among converts from heathenism, it is
certain that you will find trouble. If you work upon the other,
you will find trouble also. No good work in this evil world ever
went forward without trouble. But this “Congregational way,” it is
supposed by some, opens the door specially wide to all sorts of
dissatisfaction and dissension. False brethren, unawares brought
in, will scatter seeds of heresy and lead off into all sorts of
back-slidings. Time will be wasted in disputes that had better be
given to study and prayer. Ill-considered and impossible projects
will be pressed upon you, and you will find the exercise of your
veto power involving you in ungracious, even hostile, criticism.
Thus your influence will be weakened, and your usefulness impaired.
These objections are plausible, and address themselves to
principles in human nature which the new birth, and even a
missionary’s consecration, do not at once supplant. If we are not
mistaken, they have gone far to determine the method in much of the
missionary work of the world.
But if we have read the New Testament correctly, the method
against which these objections may be urged, is the one under
which the first Christian missions were conducted—the one to which
the teachings of the Master point, and which the example of his
Apostles has endorsed. And the heathen among whom these primitive
missions were conducted were just such as we find in the world
to-day, only, if possible, more corrupt—a less promising material
for a self-governing church.
It is certain, furthermore, that those primitive churches,
organized on this scheme of Christian liberty, did get into
difficulties—into just such difficulties as these objections
suggest. The epistles give mournful evidence of this. The hearts of
the Apostles were often heavy on account of it. And yet no other
scheme was substituted for it until long after the Apostles’ day,
and liberty, with all its dangers and all its inconveniences, was
preferred to any yoke of bondage, however well contrived.
I believe that the Apostles were right in this, and that we do
well to follow in their steps. It may be that we shall have
trouble which, under a less democratic régime, we might have
escaped; but these troubles, if the hearts that are exercised by
them are really renewed, may be made means of grace; while, if
there be lurking hypocrisy, it will be, by the same means, brought
to light. And, then, the smothered discontent under a system of
churchly government in distinction from Christian fellowship, may
be more poisonous than even open disputes can be. Encourage the
free and frank expression of what lies troublesome within; thus
often a few words of explanation remove the cause of friction, or,
possibly, the very effort to express one’s discontent reveals its
futility and unreason. Furthermore, let me add, out of oft-repeated
experiences, the suggestions of these brethren who have come out
of the depths of _heathenism_, and know it as no words could
possibly portray it, are often very wise. The superintendent of
mission work, no matter how well schooled he be in the language
and literature, the history, philosophy and laws of the people
for whom he labors, can never know their heathenism as they know
it themselves. A system which invites such suggestions, which
encourages the idea that the work is not mine only, but theirs
also, which thus nurtures frankness and freedom of utterance,
has advantages which no system of constraint and repression can
possibly secure.
And, then, it is only under conditions of liberty that the
educating process can go on to best advantage. Men learn to swim,
not by hearing lectures on the art, but _by swimming_; and men are
educated up to manhood in Christ, to self-denial and self-control,
only as they have it thrown upon them to control themselves. Men
learn their weak points by being put to the test; and the weak are
strengthened best by well-timed, well-measured exercise. And Christ
has organized His churches with reference to this; not for the
smoothest possible working of Gospel machinery, but for the highest
possible attainment in faith and hope and love by each individual
soul.
I venture to throw out these hints as indicating the principle on
which our Chinese mission is conducted; and now I wish to testify,
after so many years, that if it were possible to begin again, we
could choose no other one than that, the underlying principle of
the “Congregational way.”
GOLDEN WEDDING GIFTS.
From our Treasurer’s correspondence this month, we copy the two
following items:
“We send you the accompanying draft. It is our Golden Wedding gift,
April 1, 1879, which is the fiftieth anniversary of our married
life. We want you to use it for the Christian and educational
elevation of the poor Freedmen as you think best. We talked the
subject over, and concluded to make you this gift in behalf of
_them_, instead of making a fashionable golden wedding party for
the entertainment of our fifty-year-old friends or our own personal
benefit. With it you shall have our daily prayers for the ultimate
success of so worthy a cause.”
“Enclosed please find my check for $——, donation of my “Lady
Friends” at my Golden Wedding.”
* * * * *
RECEIPTS FOR APRIL, 1879.
MAINE, $175.49.
Bath. M. F. Gannett $10.00
Bethel. F. B. and H. C. B. 1.00
Blanchard. “A Friend.” 5.00
Brewer. First Cong. Ch., $10.83; First Cong.
Sab. Sch., $3.52, bal. to const. Mrs. Rev.
C. A. BECKWITH, L. M. 14.35
Brunswick. First Cong. Soc. 19.65
Falmouth. Second Cong. Ch. and Soc. 9.20
Foxcroft and Dover. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 36.28
Gorham. First Cong. Ch. and Soc. 31.85
Hallowell. South Cong. Sab. Sch., _for Tougaloo
U._ 15.00
Hampden. L. H. 0.50
Lewiston. Rev. G. S. Dickerman 20.00
North Waterford. S. E. H. 1.00
Orono. First Cong. Ch. 1.56
St. Albans. First Cong. Ch. 1.60
Sweden. Cong. Ch. 5.00
Waterford. “H. E. and C. M. D.” $3 and box of
C.; Mrs. C. D. 50c 3.50
NEW HAMPSHIRE, $619.08.
Bristol. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 2.07
Chichester. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 8.76
Colebrook. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 6.12
Deerfield. ESTATE of Mrs. Merriam F. Brown, by
Joseph T. Brown, Ex. 347.81
Great Falls. First Cong. Ch. and Soc. 40.00
Hanover. Dartmouth College Ch. 16.73
Lancaster. H. F. H. 1.00
Littleton. Cong. Ch. and Soc., $19.43; Mrs. A.
J. C., 50c 19.93
Orfordville. D. T. H. 1.00
Marlborough. Ladies’ Aid Soc., box of C.
Mason. Cong. Ch. 5.00
Milford. Cong. Ch. to const. LOVEL HARRIS, L.
M. 34.31
Nashua. First Cong. Ch. and Soc. 29.26
Newport. Cong. Ch. 39.73
Peterborough. Cong. Ch., $24.29; Mrs. E. C.
H., 51c 24.80
Pittsfield. “A Friend.” 10.00
South Amherst. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 10.56
Temple. Cong. Sab. Sch. 17.00
Wentworth. Ephraim Cook 5.00
VERMONT, $394.85.
Brookfield. First Cong. Ch. and Soc. 15.00
Cambridge. Madison Safford 44.94
Clarendon. Rev. G. H. Morss, $5; “A Friend,”
$5; Mrs. J. N. P., $1 11.00
Danville. Cong. Sab. Sch. 11.00
Fair Haven. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 32.74
Newbury. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 5.00
Saint Albans. Mrs. F. S. Stranahan, $42.71;
First Cong. Ch., Class in Sab. Sch., $25; H.
M. Stevens, $10, _for Student Aid, Fisk U._ 77.71
Saint Johnsbury. North Cong. Ch. 125.75
Shelburne. James D. Duncan, to const. HOYT G.
POST, L. M. 30.00
West Fairlee. Cong. Sab. Sch. 12.00
West Randolph. Miss Betsy Nichols 2.00
Williamstown. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 13.71
Windham. Cong. Ch. _for Student Aid, Fisk U._ 4.00
—— “A Friend,” 10.00
MASSACHUSETTS, $3,688.37.