got up and dressed me for fear the tent would blow away. The high
wind prevented our getting ready for the start before 7.30 A.M.
Lunched again on the sand under the shelter of our camels, but the
wind was so great that our lunch consisted chiefly of sand. The
name of the place was called _El Aderaweb_. Soon after we started
we had quite a sand-storm. Passing a rocky gorge and a number of
huge boulders, we came to Gebel Afreet, or Spirit Mountain, where
in former times strange noises were heard. Make 35 miles, and camp
at the foot of two rock mountains called _Gournabat_.
_Wednesday, Dec. 21._--High wind and cold. I wake up the boys with
an iron pan for a gong. Meet two droves of camels. Cross an immense
plain covered with small stones and sand. Another sand-storm, the
wind blowing a gale. Lunch behind our camels at “_Faroot_.” Pass a
peculiar high hill that looks like a camel’s back. Now we are on
a boundless plain covered with bits of alabaster. We meet several
caravans, and pass various boxes of goods that caravans have been
obliged to leave behind. Camped at 7.30 in a part of the desert
called _Aboo-Enteshat_. It is very cold as we get into our cots,
and blowing a gale.
_Thursday, Dec. 22._--Started at 7.45. Every morning the guide
invokes the aid of “Sheik Abdel Kadir,” the patron of the desert.
Cold wind--sandy plain. Make a pass between two hills called _Gebel
Mougram_, where we lunch. Mirage. After lunch the guide gave the
word and we started off on a fast trot for Aboo-Hamed, leaving the
baggage train to come on behind. We trotted all the afternoon over
a long flat, seemingly endless. At last we saw the palm trees by
the river. On and on we went, then all of a sudden we saw the river
to the right of us. How beautiful the _real_ water looked! As we
neared the town we fired a salute, and came in in fine style. We
arrived at 5 P.M., and the baggage train came in at 8 P.M. I have
met a very friendly officer here, who talks Turkish. A mud hut near
the river stood ready for us, and we entered into possession at
once. But the river! How beautiful to our eyes! We had a good drink
and a good wash.
[Illustration: WEST AFRICAN HABITATIONS.]
_Friday, Dec. 23._--The men insisted that this day must be spent
here in rest; that they needed it, and must have it. We said
“All right,” and after cleaning up our guns and pistols, we
went over to the beautiful island of Mokrat, where we were told
that game abounded, to see what we could get for our table. We
crossed in a crazy log boat that threatened every moment to go to
the bottom. Here, after bagging game enough for a day or two, an
accident happened. As I was running through some bushes I suddenly
became lame, and thought that a serpent had bitten me; but it
afterward proved to be a thorn driven into the ankle clear to the
bone. Doctor said it was in the worst possible place, and did not
dare to cut for it. But the pain soon became so great that it
was unbearable, and the foot could not be touched to the ground.
It nauseated me, too, and was altogether proving itself so much
more than expected, that he determined to probe for it. Twice he
attempted it, working half an hour or so each time and sinking the
forceps over half an inch and all he dared, and finally, to ease
the pain, he cut the nerve. My chief consolation is that I am not
the first man who has had a “thorn in the flesh.”
_Saturday, Dec. 24._--We were up early. I was for starting, but
the Doctor was afraid of inflammation in my ankle, and all things
considered we determined to wait till noon; but the men were
drunk, our guide especially, and we were not able to get off till
2 P.M. With a sling I managed my ankle quite comfortably. Soon
after leaving Aboo-Hamed we passed a region where the ground was
covered with most beautiful stones of many colors, red, green and
black. When we had made about 10 or 12 miles we went into camp,
as much to let the men get sober as anything. The spot we chose
was a lovely one on the bank of the river, sheltered by a grove of
palms. Christmas Eve on the Nile! Was there ever a more beautiful
one? When the afterglow of a rich sunset had faded from the sky,
the moon rose and looked down at us through the palm branches. We
had the desert stretching away to the rear, and the winding river
with its fringe of palms in front of us. We lay on the floor of
our tent thinking of home and telling stories of the happy days of
“auld lang syne” till we were warned that it was time to turn in.
We are now in the region of crocodiles. We have seen one, and the
guide to keep us from the water has told some most fearful stories.
He has even tried to make us believe that a crocodile will catch
and devour two camels at once. The name of our camping place is
_Moushra Adehaish_.
* * * * *
THE CHINESE.
* * * * *
CLIPPINGS FROM CORRESPONDENCE.
BY REV. W. C. POND.
Our readers may possibly remember that we have been making an
experimental effort to plant a mission at Point Pedro, a Chinese
fishing village, on one of the headlands making out into San
Francisco Bay, about twenty miles from this city, and at least five
miles from any American village. The work resembles, as to its
difficulties, that which would be encountered in any village in
China itself, and the teacher--Miss Mary C. Waterbury--is almost
as much alone there as she would be if at work in China. One
American family--a gentleman and his wife--reside at the point,
having charge of the ranch and collecting the ground rents due
from the Chinese fishermen, and in this family she has her only
opportunity for free conversation in her native tongue. I make
the following extract from a letter from her, giving an account
of a “Moon Festival,” observed there by the Chinese. “It was a
never-to-be-forgotten scene. I only wished that every Christian in
this land could have looked upon it. This day has been a general
holiday; no fishing, no work of any kind. These poor, tired men,
who ply the oar and draw the net seven days in the week, early
and late, day and night, are resting. They are to have a good
dinner and a good time generally; and, in connection with it, are
observing the oldest form of idol-worship this dark world has
ever seen. This--not in China, or in Ethiopia, but right here in
Christian America, under the very sound and light of the glorious
gospel of the Light of the World. Under the clear shining of a
bright, full moon a table is spread with the very best the offerer
can afford, and then his guests come out, and, one by one, bow down
to the moon and worship--worship, ‘not the one who carries the
lantern,’ as a Christian Chinese said, ‘but the lantern itself.’
This is about all there was of it--and it does not make much of a
story,--but nothing ever impressed me more deeply. I had read of
idolatry before, but now I was looking it square in the face. Not
many days ago a poor old man died here. Ever since, his daughter
and her husband and the grand-children have been worshiping his
spirit with all sorts of votive offerings; not from love to him,
not to express their reverence for his memory, but from fear of
his ghost. And so, right here in America, there is growing up a
generation of idolaters.”
[Illustration: SELLING PRAYERS IN A CHINESE TEMPLE.]
Mrs. Langdon, of Stockton, writes: “Since Lee Pak Un came (the
Chinese helper) two of our boys have joined the association.
We have one pupil who attended school for some time, then
absented himself for months, and has now returned. He can
read understandingly, is a good Chinese scholar, and is very
intelligent, but when approached on religious matters cannot be
made to know what I am talking about. The inability, however, is
evidently moral. Lee Pak Un says: His friend, surname brother, says
he will not be a Christian while his father lives; he is afraid
of him. ‘If any man cometh unto me and hateth not his own father,
* * * he cannot be my disciple.’ How often these hard sayings of
our Lord find illustration in our missionary work! How many of our
believing Chinese have been obliged to take the position of one
_hating_ father and mother--to do what is interpreted by them and
others as acts of hatred, in order to be Christ’s disciples! How
often, after returning to China, have they been obliged to stand
unmoved by a father’s threats and curses and a mother’s tears, or
else bow down to idols and deny their Lord!”
I have not often, in the last two or three years, made mention
in the MISSIONARY of our Petaluma school. It has been one of the
smallest of our missions, with comparatively little occurring,
month by month, to interest our readers or to encourage us. But
for several months past, under the care of Miss Carrie L. Jones,
daughter of Rev. Dr. R. G. Jones, pastor of the Congregational
Church in that city, and through the faithful service of our
helper, Wong Ock, new interest has been developed, the attendance
has almost trebled, and the harvest seems to be close at hand.
One of the pupils, not yet an avowed Christian, writes to Miss
Jones as follows: “I come to school every night at 7 o’clock to
learn to read and write. I go to meeting Wednesday and to church
Sunday-school. Some China boy would like to love Jesus Christ
and God. My good friend Wong Ock is a good boy, and I like him
very much. California is a good country. Good-bye.” From Wong Ock
himself I have several letters on file, from which I give the
following extracts: “I feel much comfort and happiness in my heart
when I try to do God’s will. I hope I may be faithful at all times
and trust in Him, so He may help me, and I may bear much fruit
in His name. Charlie, one of our boys, has joined the Christian
Association in the last two weeks. Now I find him very good. He
seems to have entirely left his old habits, and has given his heart
to serve the Lord Jesus.” Again, “I feel very contented, as I
have made acquaintance with my Lord and Saviour. I am willing now
to give up all I have for His name’s sake, for His righteousness’
sake. But I often shed many tears for those around us who have
not known the gospel. For my part (_i. e._, so far as I myself am
concerned), I am thankful for those who love Jesus and teach me so
well in his name. I hope the reward of my Lord be multiplied to
them, so they may know to lead His flock back to His fold. But you
know how many of the hearts have been discouraged on account of the
bad actions of some Chinese. Nevertheless, we must be faithful.
Then I think everything will be well done in the Lord’s sight.”
What he means is this: that if we are faithful our Lord will be
pleased and will accept us, even though many of those for whom we
labor and pray refuse to give up their opium, their gambling, their
hatreds, and refuse to become Christians, because they would, as
Christians, be obliged to abandon these things. Some months since I
proposed to Wong Ock, as I could not afford, considering the size
of the school, to pay him the full salary of a helper (_i. e._,
$25 per month), to seek work for part of the day in some family,
as several of our helpers do, or else to go to Point Pedro with
reference to making a thorough experiment in the work there. To
have accepted either proposition would have increased his monthly
income by at least $10, or 66 per cent. This is his reply: “I
prayed to God, and He has shown me the right way, I think. No
matter to me in what place I work, only for Jesus Christ. But I
think I am useful here; also can study myself. I need but little
money, only enough to keep me, and you can give what you think
best. I do not wish to leave here, nor work in family, as I get too
tired to study; not feel very strong. The question is, What use am
I to God? Because not our will, but His, be done. If we can be of
use to God, we ought to be satisfied, whether we dwell among the
savages or become poor and suffer as Job did, for even our Christ
the Lord left the holier and happier place and came to this dark
and sinful world to die for our sins. Now, I am sorry if a man
drive a hen away, if the eggs she set upon have not time enough
to be hatched. My dear brother, if I feel so for the hen, shall I
leave the boys whom I have preached to and cared for ever so long,
and some of them nearly come to be Christians? I think not. Still I
wish to do right.”
* * * * *
CHILDREN’S PAGE
* * * * *
TED’S TEMPERANCE SOCIETY.
A TRUE STORY.
BY AN ATLANTA TEACHER
Between you and me Ted isn’t his real name, but, since I cannot
tell you the name which his father and mother gave him, I suppose
Ted will do for a boy as well as anything else. The fact is I do
not want that you should think so much of the name as of the boy;
for I assure you Ted is a boy worth thinking about, even if he is
only nine years old, and if he hasn’t a very great superabundance
(Did you ever see or hear such a big word?) of money, and doesn’t
own a horse, nor a dog, nor a velocipede, nor a bicycle, nor a
hundred other things that money will buy. I can tell you though
that Ted has ever so many things that money--no, not all the money
that Vanderbilt, nor Jay Gould, nor any other man has--can not
buy. I mean Ted’s father and mother and two little brothers, and
a cunning little sister with eyes like stars, and cheeks like a
peach-blossom, and a mouth like a ripe cherry. Then Ted knows a
good deal about ever so many things. Of course he got a great deal
of this knowledge from his father and mother, as any boy can who
has a good father and mother, and what is a boy going to do who
hasn’t both?
Ted knows the men and women in the Bible just like a book; better
too. He knows them just as well as he does the people living around
him, and he can go to the map and find all those places mentioned
in the New Testament.
The father, and mother, and Ted, and the little sister (I wish I
might tell you her name), made that map, and some day, perhaps, I
shall tell you how they did it. Ted’s baby brother, two years old,
can name some of the places, too, though Ted says it is very hard
for him to say _Cappadocia_, and I think it is no wonder, for that
is a dreadful word for a child to say.
Well, as I said before, Ted has all these rich possessions of
family friends and knowledge, and better than all, he has, I think,
the love of God in his heart just as earnest, and true, and tender
as if he were a grown-up man. I do not think that one has to wait
to be a grown-up person to love God, do you?
Because of this love, Ted has a great love for human beings, and
wants to do all he can to help them, and make them better. He knows
that he is a small boy, and cannot do a man’s work, but he does
not sit down and say he will wait till he is a man, but he does a
little boy’s work as well as he can. Now I will tell you what he
has done within the last few months. He has formed a temperance
society, and ever so many little boys and girls have joined it.
No one can be a member of this society until he has promised not to
drink beer, nor egg-nog, nor anything that has alcohol in it, and
he must say he will not use tobacco, nor swear, nor say bad words
of any kind.
The way he began was, one day a little boy came into the yard,
I mean Ted’s father’s yard, to split wood. He was just a little
fellow, not much larger, I believe, than Ted himself, and, if you
can believe me, he was smoking!
Of course Ted was shocked, and he thought it must be stopped, so
he talked to the little boy, and after some persuasion got him to
promise not to touch tobacco again, and _that_ was Ted’s society.
Well, the little boy began to help Ted to persuade other little
boys to join the society. And so they found plenty. You see there
are ever so many people everywhere ready to be good and wise if
they only had some one to show them how. So it came about that
one after another the little boys went to Ted’s house to sign the
pledge. Ted’s mother, who is one of those mothers that can be in
many ways a great comfort to a boy, helped about getting cards for
the children, and bits of blue ribbon to wear as a sign that they
belonged to Ted’s society.
Well, little girls began to join too. Of course Ted’s little sister
did so the first of all, for she does not like to be behind her
brother in doing right things, and then other little girls came.
Why, one evening I went to Ted’s house, and there were seven little
people who had just been in to sign the pledge. Of course they
carried a great deal of mud into the house. (It is a very muddy
place where Ted lives. Oh, my! Sometimes I think there is more mud
than anything else there.)
Ted, and his mother and father, were there, looking just as happy
as if nothing could make them so glad as to have the carpet all
covered with muddy prints of little shoes; but I do not think they
were so very glad about the mud as they were to see that the small
attempt to do good promised to become a great work, and that, with
God’s blessing, Ted might be the means of helping those little boys
and girls to become good men and women.
Ted has more than one hundred little people in his society now, and
he still keeps working to get in more.
I think I forgot to tell you that Ted lives among the colored
people in the South, and that his society consists of colored
children; but, never mind, isn’t it just as good to know it now, as
if I told you at first?
Yes, his father and mother are missionaries, and if it were not
such a large name to give a little boy, I should say that Ted is a
missionary too.
* * * * *
OBITUARY.
* * * * *
Miss Sarah A. G. Stevens, for 14 years a teacher among the Freedmen
under the commission of the A. M. A., the last three of which were
spent in Fisk University, was called to her rest, from the home of
her brother in her native place, St. Johnsbury, Vt., on April 5th.
She entered the service of the Association in the fall of 1866, and
retired at the close of the school-year in 1880, with health and
strength so impaired that the rest and change of climate, which she
subsequently sought, brought no real improvement. These years of
faithful service had been cheerfully and enthusiastically given.
The thought of them gave her great comfort and satisfaction during
the months of weariness and suffering which preceded her death. Her
recovery was hoped for by herself and friends up to the beginning
of the new year. In January her physician sent word to Miss E. M.
Barnes, a teacher in Fisk University, that there were developments
of a fatal disease, and that death was but a question of a few
weeks, possibly months.
Miss Barnes had been associated with Miss Stevens for ten years
as a teacher in the South, and had been her most intimate friend
and companion. She owed her life under God to the faithful nursing
and care of Miss Stevens, when attacked by yellow fever during the
prevalence of that scourge in the city of Memphis, Tenn., in the
fall of 1873, at which time three teachers of the Mission Home
lost their lives. Miss Barnes resigned her position and hastened
to the bedside of her sick friend. The following extract from her
letter, announcing the death of her friend, will best illustrate
the peacefulness and beauty of the closing weeks of her life:
“The messenger came for her Wednesday morning, April 5th. Yesterday
we laid her body away to its last rest. Rest--how much that means
to her; it had been so long since she had known rest. She had
failed very rapidly during the week, and yet death came suddenly
in the end. Tuesday afternoon, after some hours of great pain and
suffering, a change came, and, breathing peacefully as a child,
she passed away with an upward look, as if the joys of Heaven were
already bursting upon her sight. During the last days of her life
she spoke confidently and calmly of her hopes of the future. Often,
when suffering the most intensely, nothing would soothe and quiet
her so quickly as reading from the Bible. I never remember a murmur
against her suffering during all her illness. Allusion was made at
her funeral, by her pastor, to her work in the South; that such an
example of self-denial and devotion to the Master’s work among the
lowly was a legacy to any community.”
* * * * *
RECEIPTS FOR APRIL, 1882.
* * * * *
MAINE, $2,594.67.
Blue Hill. N. A. F. $1.00
Brewer. First Cong. Ch. 10.00
Brunswick. First Cong. Ch., _for Freight_, by
Mrs. J. D. Lincoln 4.50
Dennysville. Peter E. Vose, $5; “A Friend,” $5 10.00
Ellsworth. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 68.05
Gardiner. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 27.33
Gorham. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 35.26
New Gloucester. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 75.55
Portland. “S. A. M.,” $100; Ladies’ Circle,
High St. Ch., _for Freight_, $8.48 108.48
Portland. Mrs. Chas. Andrews, _for Student
Aid_, _Straight U._ 2.00
Portland. Abyssinian Ch. Sab. Sch., Box Books,
_for Wilmington, N.C._
South Berwick. “Friends,” Bbl. of C., _for
Macon, Ga._
South Waterford. Mrs. C. D. 1.00
Waldoborough. First Cong. Ch. and Soc. 8.50
Windham. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 12.00
Yarmouth. Rev. A. L. 1.00
—————
$364.67
LEGACIES.
Bath. Estate of Chas. Clapp, Jr. ($200 of
which _for Lady Missionaries, Wilmington, N.
C._ and _Selma, Ala._), 2,200.00
Waterford. Estate of Rev. J. A. Douglass, to
const. MISS H. E. DOUGLASS L. M. 30.00
—————————
$2,594.67
NEW HAMPSHIRE, $234.27.
Alstead. Third Cong. Ch. and Soc. 10.00
Amherst. Cong. Ch. 15.00
Atkinson. Cong. Ch. and Soc., bal. to const.
JAMES KNIGHT L. M. 15.00
Concord. First Cong. Ch. and Soc. 50.00
Durham. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 7.34
Hanover. “Friends,” _for Atlanta U._ 10.00
Hillsborough Center. Cong. Ch. and Soc., $3;
O. C., $1 4.00
Hinsdale. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 14.67
Langdon. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 7.00
Manchester. First Cong. Ch. and Soc., to
const. DEA. TAYLOR G. SWEAT L. M. 63.10
Mason. Cong. Ch. 10.00
Nashua. First Cong. Ch. and Soc. 26.65
Nashua. First Cong. Ch., Bbl. of. C., _for
Straight U._
Orford. A. E. 0.51
Temple. Cong. Sab. Sch. 21.00
VERMONT, $390.98.
Cambridge. M. and C. Safford 46.52
Charlotte. Mrs. M. E. E. 0.50
Chelsea. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 22.77
Clarendon. Mrs. N. J. Smith 5.00
East Poultney. A. D. Wilcox, $5; J. M., 50c. 5.50
Manchester. Miss Ellen Hawley, _for Student
Aid, Talladega C._ 10.00
Newbury. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 38.80
Newport. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 7.80
North Craftsbury. Individuals, _for Mag._ 2.00
Rutland. Cong. Ch. 138.09
Sharon. Mrs. A. F., $1; Miss S. P. F., $1 2.00
West Brattleborough. Mrs. F. C. Gaines 4.00
Westminster West. Mrs. Z. D. 1.00
Wolcott. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 2.00
Woodstock. Hon. Frederick Billings, _for
Atlanta U._ 100.00
——. “Ex-Teacher” 5.00
MASSACHUSETTS, $7,942.56.