The American Missionary

THE

American Missionary.

American Missionary Association.

We have reached the half-way turning point of our fiscal year. With March the first six months of our year ended. Our mission stations are all manned. Churches and schools, with all their multitudinous outshoots of work, are taxing the energies, abilities and devotion of our workers. Never in the history of this Association was the work more manifestly blessed of God, or more imperative in its calls for vigorous prosecution. Our schools are crowded. Multitudes of students are turned away because there is no room to receive them. The calls pour in upon us from every quarter for more dormitories and recitation buildings—for more help for worthy and needy students, for more missionaries, preachers and teachers, to go into regions most destitute and urgent for relief. Whole counties are reported in which there is neither a church nor a school; whole sections of country in which there are thousands and tens of thousands of people for whose souls no one seems to care. Revivals are reported in connection with nearly all our churches, and the evidence is overwhelming that great harvests are waiting the reaping in almost every direction. What are we to do? What would the churches have us do? We are their servants; we report to them the outlook; we send out to them the call; we impatiently await their authoritative response. That response must be in money.

Our financial situation is this: At the present writing we have paid out $14,555.84 more than we have received the current year. This, with the debt coming over from last year, makes us $20,339.55 in arrears. It is impossible either to arrest or cut down the work at this point in the year so as to secure relief. But even if we could, would we be justified in doing it? Our total receipts last year were $335,704.20. Our appeal for the current year is $350,000. Our total receipts up to March 31st were $127,605.47. Our readers can very easily figure out for themselves whether any blame can rightfully be charged to those who have the management[130] of the Association in hand, and also whether, in view of the facts, the thought of curtailment should be cherished for a moment.

On the basis of our receipts last year, we should have received by the end of March $167,852, and on the basis of our appeal, $175,000. It will be seen, therefore, that in the prosecution of the work we have not exceeded the appeal of this year, nor even the scale of last year. Here, then, presses our problem. Summer is not a good time for collections. The necessity for special appeals, such as we have been obliged to make during the past few years towards the end of our fiscal year, has been as irksome and disagreeable to us as it has been to our friends. It is on this account we now raise the question: Cannot an effort be made during the next two months to so increase the contributions to the A. M. A. that the summer will find us delivered from possible embarrassment? It will necessitate earnest work on the part of our friends; but with such an important field urgently calling for the enlargement of missionary work, with so many evidences of the Divine approval resting upon it, and with so much ability in the possession of our friends, may we not hope that the churches will lay hold of the problem and solve it at once?

Suicide Postponed.—There is an old story with such a good moral that we recall it to the minds of our readers. A man of large wealth, living in Paris, became so tired of a monotonous life that he determined to commit suicide. On his way to the spot decided upon, it occurred to him that he might as well give away the money that he had with him, which was quite a large amount. He found so much pleasure in bestowing this upon the poor people whom he met, that he concluded to postpone the suicide until he had had time to enjoy some more of the same beneficence. It is needless to add that, instead of disgracing himself by suicide, he became a public benefactor.

SELECTED.

Righteous Indignation.—“I have just been reading my American Missionary for April. I am terribly stirred up by it—am under a dreadful temptation to covet money that does not belong to me. I am poor and I have to pay for my board and my room, and cannot get without stealing the wealth that is so foolishly spent by others.

“The treatment of the Chinese, too, is an abomination. I am naturally high-spirited, and, although in my 83d year, do not feel more meek and quiet than in my early years. It cannot be that the blessed God whose ‘mercy endureth forever’ can look with favor upon our nation. Alas! alas! what can be done?”

SUBSCRIBER.

One of our missionaries writes: “A man who has a family of ten children, and next to no school privileges, came fifteen miles with a daughter of sixteen[131] years to see me about getting three children into school. A good man, and deeply interested to educate his family. But I had to turn him away for lack of room. Such instances are constantly occurring. The only way the young people on these mountains who live remote from school can be educated is to hire rooms and board themselves.” There is a plea in these words for the erection of dormitories to accommodate needy and worthy students. Such dormitories would not cost much, perhaps not over $500 each. But the current funds must be used for our current work. Gladly would we tell our missionary to put up a few dormitories and let these pleading ones be cared for. But we have no money to appropriate. Can any of the readers of the Missionary help us out? Only we must raise the caution, that the help given at this point should not be allowed to interfere with gifts to our general work.

Secretary Beard has taken hold of the Southern Department of our work with a great deal of earnestness. He has just returned from a somewhat extended apostolic visitation of our churches and schools. Many of our readers will remember Dr. Beard’s enthusiasm and zeal for French evangelization, but he stands ready to confess that the necessities underlying the work of the American Missionary Association far exceed any that he has ever felt for mission work before. We knew it would be so. It is simply impossible to convey a full idea of the far-reaching needs and to set forth the imperative claims of the great work in which the A. M. A. is engaged.

The friends of the Indians have watched with much solicitude the action of the recent Congress on the numerous bills before it relating to Indian affairs. It is a matter of great rejoicing that the most important of these, the General Allotment Act, has passed. This allows the Indians to take their lands individually by allotments and patents, and makes the allottees citizens of the United States. This bill is far-reaching, and covers in a measure the objects aimed at by some of the others which failed. Among these last is the Sioux bill, which proposes to divide up and dispose of parts of the Sioux reservation in Dakota. In another column will be found an excellent article, by Rev. A. L. Riggs, showing the loss, and yet the incidental benefits, that may arise from the failure of this bill. We will only add, that some of the provisions of the Sioux bill can indirectly and after some delay be carried out under the General Allotment Act.

The failure of the Mission Indian bill is a source of unrelieved regret and indignation. These Indians, whose sad story is told so pathetically in Helen Hunt Jackson’s “Ramona,” are still left unprotected, and their[132] lands are still exposed to the incursions of unscrupulous white men. It is to be hoped that the nation will demand of the next Congress that justice shall be done to these Indians.

Lincoln Memorial Church, Washington, D.C., has hitherto carried on its work in the Lincoln Mission building. This building is held in trust by the Lincoln Industrial Association to sustain educational, industrial and religious work. This association was in no way connected with the church; it had several local enterprises under its auspices in the same building in which the work of the church was carried on. Thus the growth and usefulness of the church were greatly hindered, as it had no control of the building and the various enterprises carried on in it. It was clear that a church representing a higher type and standard of Christian life and worship than the average church of this community was greatly needed in this growing section of the city. It was also evident that if the Lincoln Memorial Church should supply this demand, steps should be taken to so adjust the property and renovate the building as to make a permanent church home and to promote the most hopeful growth of the work by putting all the departments of work carried on in the building under the management of the church. Secretary Beard and Superintendent Ryder, of the A. M. A., and the pastor and officers of the Lincoln Memorial Church held a conference, October 29, with the Board of Directors of the Lincoln Industrial Association to consider the most practical plan of putting the control of the property and all departments of work, educational, industrial and religious, carried on in the building, under the auspices of the Lincoln Memorial Church.

After the subject was fully discussed the following resolution was unanimously adopted by the Board of Directors of the Lincoln Industrial Association: “Resolved, That the Lincoln Industrial Association hereby declares itself in full sympathy with the desire of the Lincoln Memorial Church that the entire property, together with all the auxiliaries in Christian and industrial work, be put under the direction of the Lincoln Memorial Church here organized, and to that end any additional action necessary will be carried out.”

When the action of the conference was presented to the church it was voted that the church accept the trust and that steps be taken immediately to repair and improve the church and parsonage and all other parts of the building, as far as practicable, so as to make the building more desirable as a place of worship and center of Christian work, and a home for the pastor’s family. A building committee was appointed and an appeal was made to the public and friends for funds for the immediate repair and improvement of the building.

“THE PRAYERS OF THOSE WHO PRAY.”

One of the devoted workers of the A. M. A., telling in a simple yet thrilling way of his heroic work in the South, concludes his article (in The American Missionary for March) with a request for the “prayers of those who pray.” What can he mean? Does he not, when struggling to put up a building in the wilderness, want money more than prayers, or at least as much? Would he not be glad of anyone’s sympathy and prayers? Very likely; but yet we see in his request an unconscious recognition of the fact that those who make a business of praying are the ones whose help is worth something; whose sympathy is palpably felt.

Those who pray! Oh, what a blessed thing is habit, when rightly guided. How much pleasanter to make effort, to do work, in familiar channels. What added life does it give to our intercourse with the Father to realize that he is already acquainted with us, that he has heard us on similar subjects before, that he knows the general trend of our desires and longings already. When we go before a court of law with our suits we employ an experienced pleader to present our case, and rightly; his training, his habit, is the lubricating element; without it progress would be slow, difficult and tedious. In spiritual matters we cannot do our pleading by proxy; priests were abolished when Christ made himself accessible, through the Comforter, to every heart, and we must now act each for himself; therefore let us see to it that we do not make this part of life uninteresting, unfruitful and dreary from sheer stiffness, inexperience and unfamiliarity. James says (v. 16) “the supplication of a righteous man availeth much in its working.” A righteous man is one who is working in lines approved by God, and this necessarily implies that he is in communication with God; therefore the maker of this appeal is right in addressing himself to those who are used to praying; there is every probability that they will be “righteous men” and that their prayers will “avail much.” What sort of a phenomenon is a church member who is not in the habit of praying? Even though his subscription to the A. M. A. this year be a liberal one, what certainty is there about his action next year? One who prays for this worker in Tennessee, and gives him a dollar, or a dime, may be of more real help than a giver of ten dollars who does it merely as a duty, or to quiet his conscience. The former has enlisted his friendship; and an accessible friend is better than a brother afar off—even if he be a millionaire, oftentimes.

The prayers of those who pray! Ah, yes, that is it. Love and sympathy are what move the world. If one loves us we need not worry about his material gifts to us. If a child of God prays for us he has a real interest in us and will try to give us money (if we are in need of it); and the exertions of such are multiplied a hundredfold by God’s arithmetic. “Those who pray” find that God doesn’t require them to assume the attitude of[134] Abraham, “Oh, let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak yet but this once.” If the loving children of God were permitted to only send up one brief prayer and then have to step back, their interest might die out. No; the rule is “pray without ceasing,” “whatsoever ye ask.” God can raise up helpers out of the very stones of the ground; but he is not likely to do it unless he sees that his children desire and need the help and will faithfully use it. Let us all pray for the faithful ones who carry our burdens by going into the wilderness to do God’s work in our stead, who relieve us of a portion of our duty by doing more than theirs, and our material aid will certainly be larger and of more value than it could possibly otherwise be. As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he. Our prayers follow our thoughts; if we think and pray as benevolent persons it is likely that we shall be benevolent.

SUBSCRIBER.

AN INCIDENT.

“Will you come with me, to-day, and visit some of my poor people?” said a Southern lady missionary to me, on my first visit to the sunny South.

Of course I would go. I was anxious to meet with my brethren and sisters whose skin color differed from my own. I longed for acquaintanceship with them, to see what they had received.

We soon reached a conglomeration of cabins that had a ridiculous resemblance to rooks’ nests. How does it come that sticks in old age look so much more disreputable than stones? These wooden cabins looked far worse than the stone hovels of Achil Island. These lately enfranchised people living here were all renters, and they paid the utmost possible rent for the poorest possible shelter.

The cabins were built in clusters of four, so that one corner of each rested against a clumsy chimney, built in the middle in such a manner that each cabin had a corner fire-place.

In one of these little tenements, in an old arm-chair, cushioned with shreds and patches, and set close into the chimney corner, sat a very old colored woman, with her shaking hands spread out to gather to her the warmth of the fire of fat lightwood splinters that blazed and crackled before her. The damp, chill wind whistled through every crevice and cranny of the rough, ill-matched boards of the door and the slight wall. The whole cabin was almost as airy as a corn crib. It was admirably built for ventilation, and was in the full enjoyment of it.

The old woman, popularly supposed to be over a hundred, looked around at us, her face one mesh of wrinkles, her wool as white as snow, but she was wonderfully bright and cheery. She was a great sufferer from asthma and rheumatism, could not lie down in bed at all, but was confined to her chair night and day. She was one of those of whom I[135] had been told as having a near acquaintance with her Lord as with a personal friend.

“How are you to-day, Aunt July?” said my friend.

“Howdy’, howdy’? I’se well, an’ glad to see you, honey; bress de Lawd.”

“I’ve brought a friend with me to see you; a friend from over the sea.”

“Bress you, honey, I’se glad to see you, too. De good Lawd sends his chilluns to look me up. He does so, ’cause he don’t ever forget me.”

“The box has come, Aunt July, and I’m so sorry that there’s nothing in it at all that would fit you; nothing but children’s things.”

“Bress de good Lawd, it’s a-comin’; I feel it’s a-comin’, but it wasn’t to come in dat ar box, sure enuff, honey.”

“I did wish and pray for a warm woolen shawl to wrap around you at night when the fire goes down,” said the missionary lady, kindly. “You see,” turning to me, “the nights are quite cold this time of the year, and see how open the cabin is. If she could only lie down in bed and cover up warm, but she cannot, and she must suffer dreadfully when the fire goes out. I do wish so much that she had a shawl.”

“Well, honey, you is kind to ole Aunty, an’ I’se thankful; but we wasn’t ’greed ’bout dat ar’, honey. You ask de Lawd for a shawl, an’ I ask for sumpin’ warm, wid sleeves in it, so’s not to slip off in de night when I falls asleep an’ de fiah done gone out.”

“You see, I’se real glad when de sleep comes,” she said, looking at me; “I’se glad of de rest in sleep, but de fiah done go out. My son, he’s jest as good as he ken be to me, an’ he leaves heaps ob wood, but when I sleeps de fiah done go out. I ask de bressed Lawd to sen’ me sumpin’ with sleeves, so’s it would keep on when I’se sleepin’.”

Then I suddenly remembered a long wrap of Canadian factory material that had been with me in many a mountain ramble over the water. I had put it in my trunk without any very definite reason for doing so, against all the good natured ridicule showered upon me by friends. I had not used it, seemed to have no use for it, until this need flashed upon me. Before many minutes it was fished out of the bottom of my trunk, brought there and fitted on the aged sister. It was warm, it had sleeves, and when it was buttoned on, it reached to the ground.

“It’s just like my bressed Master, dat is,” said old Aunty, her sunken eyes shining with gladness. “I ask fer sumpin’ warm, with sleeves, an’ he sen’ me what cover me all over down to de feet. Bress de Lawd, it is allars above what we ask. Now you can see how He done care fer ole Aunty. It’s allers jest so, He cares.”

I looked at her, old and poor, asthmatic and rheumatic, helpless and dependent, and her thankfulness shamed me. In putting on the wrap, my friend pointed out the scars of ancient floggings ridged and furrowed[136] in the dark skin. The ploughers had ploughed on her back, and made long their furrows. She was one of His. Was this in any way being in fellowship with His sufferings? She was old, very old, ten years past the allotted period of three score and ten, she believed, when the tramp of armies heralded freedom for her in the sunset and twilight of her life.

“I’se sitting in my cheer, such a cumf’able cheer, an’ my heart is singing all de time, because my bressed Lawd ’members me an’ loves me, an’ answers all my pra’rs.”

My heart did not sing all the time. I had questionings, and even murmurings. I looked around the cabin; there was no comfort or possibility of comfort to be seen. Abject, helpless poverty was the sum total of all her surroundings. She was dependent on what could be spared from the scant wages of her son, a Southern day laborer with a large young family. Living thus on the perilous edge of want, and her heart singing all the time with thankfulness! To think of it!

“What do you feel thankful for?” I asked. The words leapt out before I was aware.

“Thankful, chile! I’se thankful for all my marcies, for all de goodness from my bressed Master that come to me. I allers wanted to be free ’fore I died; now I’se free. Thank God an’ Massa Linkum, I’se free! My heart was sore for my chilluns, sole away from me befo’ the wa’, an my bressed Master find one for me, brung him here after the wa’; my oldest son, he is. I fin’ my two gals, or they fin’ me; they’se married down yer’, an’ they’se all good to me. It’s allers jest so since I got ’ligion. God has answer’ every pra’r, an’ best of all, He stays by me in the dark an’ in the light. Oh, honey, my heart does well to be thankful an’ keep singin’ all de time.”

The surroundings seemed to change, glorified by the secret of the Lord. My heart went out to this old negress with her scarred form, for was she not a dweller under the shadow of the Almighty? I thankfully acknowledged my relationship to her, for was she not a daughter of the King, and higher up than I?

MRS. A. M’DOUGALL.

THE SOUTH.

NOTES IN THE SADDLE.

BY FIELD-SUPERINTENDENT C. J. RYDER.

Le Moyne Institute, at Memphis, Tenn., like almost all of the A. M. A. schools this year, is full to overflowing. A large number of pupils have been turned away for the want of accommodations.

The Industrial department of Le Moyne Institute is receiving constant additions. A printing outfit has recently been procured, and the students[137] are busy over “fonts” and “pi,” though no printer’s devil has as yet appeared. The scholars have done some good job work already and are thus turning their industrial training into immediate practical benefit. The other departments of the Institute are keeping step with its industrial development. Le Moyne is broadening its influence constantly and sending its roots deeper and deeper into the intellectual and religious soil of Memphis. It is recognized as one of the most beneficial institutions in the city by the citizens of all shades of political opinion.

The Congregational Church stands immediately opposite the Institute, and students are especially welcomed into its services and membership. If New England Pilgrimism of early days is reproduced anywhere it certainly is in the work of the A. M. A. The Church and the School are the joint and inseparable agencies for the building of character.

A trip down the Mississippi Valley is a revelation to one who has never passed over this route. This valley is the garden region of the old South, that is, those States east of the Mississippi. It is asserted, and truthfully, I think, that two and one-half bales of cotton are sometimes raised for every man, woman and child of the population of this valley. The land is a deep alluvial loam and produces crops of great variety. Cotton, corn, potatoes (sweet and Irish), wheat, oats, and sugar cane are some among the many products that grow luxuriously here. This region has been avoided by settlers in the past, because of its unhealthfulness. In the old slave days, planters lived in the highlands, back from the river, and worked their plantations by slave labor. The death of a slave was only unfortunate because of just so much lost live stock. God equalizes things in a strange way. Now, these very people who occupied these lands and tilled them for others are acclimated and can live here and gather the enormous wealth of this wonderful valley. The railroad company has offered unusual inducements to settlers of small capital to take lands here. Five thousand colored people have poured into this great garden spot during the past eighteen months and others are constantly coming. What an opportunity for A. M. A. work! Pleading invitations come to me from many places along the line of this valley, begging me to come and see their needs. Churches and schools and missions are demanded all through this region immediately. Tougaloo University was never so well fitted as to-day to meet the needs of these people. Its two new Ballard buildings greatly increase its accommodations and facilities. But other schools, less advanced and comprehensive, are needed, which shall meet the immediate wants of these new communities, and also be feeders to Tougaloo.

At one place a considerable colony has settled under the leadership of a former student of Fisk University. He is, of course, a Congregationalist, and desires the best educational advantages for this new and growing colony.[138] What could not be accomplished here during the next few years if only the treasury warranted the outlay? At Greenville, in the heart of this fertile valley, a small Congregational Church, planted and nurtured by the A. M. A., is holding up the standard of intelligent preaching and decent forms of public worship. The Church has no meeting-house, but holds its services in a school building, the property of a colored citizen, who is the editor of the Greenville Herald, a sprightly local paper.

The Mississippi River is making fearful havoc along its banks. At Greenville, fifty feet of ground fell away in a single day. Brick buildings are being torn down and frame buildings hurried back on rollers to save them from the mad waters of the mighty river. Where the streets of the village were, a few months ago, now the river runs more than a hundred feet deep. This is a boom in real estate not thoroughly enjoyed by the citizens. It is attributed to the failure of the River and Harbor bills, and the citizens are very indignant. I am happy to state that our pastor’s home and the proposed site of the new Congregational Church are far back from the river, and no one need withhold his increased contribution to A. M. A., on account of this needy field, for fear the real estate will wash away.

At Vicksburg I found quite a number of A. M. A. graduates. One hangs out the shingle of an attorney and is doing “tolerably well, thank you.” Two are teachers; one of these, a graduate of Straight University, N. O., has done splendid service for his people and won honor for himself. He is Superintendent of the city colored schools, having ten teachers under his direction. He has saved his money and now owns two comfortable cottages and is out of debt; not a bad showing for a young man only a few years out of college.

Louisiana is reaping the harvest of her former seed sowing. Arozelles Parish is agitated over the outrages recently perpetrated against the Hebrews. Witkowsky, it will be remembered, was driven from his home in this parish last fall. Now these outrages are being repeated against others of that same race. I quote from a local paper: “The anti-semitics rode up to the Kahn store and riddled it and the surrounding fence with bullets. Next day Kahn and Bauer were served with notices calling attention to what the mob had done, and warning them to leave the parish at once if they wished to save their lives.”

The Governor of Louisiana is exhorted to stop these outrages. Why? It is only a continuance of the policy of violence and murder that has so often brought disgrace upon this and other Southern States. It matters little whether the victims of these brutal outrages are Negroes or Hebrews. Anyone who chances to be obnoxious to the Lords of the Land may meet[139] the same cruel treatment. But better and brighter days are slowly coming, when all classes can demand and shall receive the impartial protection of the laws. Perhaps this new violence to the Hebrews may arouse the public conscience.

REVIVALS.

STRAIGHT UNIVERSITY.

Those acquainted with the history of this institution affirm that it has never before been visited by just such a work of grace as is now gladdening many hearts.

The year, unlike some that have preceded it, has been free from serious and protracted interruptions. Neither Expositions nor epidemics have made great breaches in the classes or diverted attention from matters of first importance. Though our classes have been unusually crowded, the amount of faithful scholarly work accomplished has been greatly above that of ordinary years. There has been a quiet, intense determination on the part of pupils to master the subjects in hand, that has greatly encouraged their teachers. Many pupils have expressed a praiseworthy dissatisfaction with their work and a longing to do it better, and have seemed glad to devote recreation and holiday hours to gain a better mastery of difficult subjects.

Accompanying this zeal for the acquisition of knowledge there has been, from the week of prayer, a deep and growing tenderness on the subject of religion.

While there have been no special revival services, the regular weekly religious meetings of the University, both voluntary and those in the regular order, have been attended and sustained with the most earnest enthusiasm and by about the same numbers.

Some four weeks ago a request was made after the Sunday evening preaching service, that those who had lately become Christians would remain. Several who had given good evidence of a change of heart were absent from the service, but fourteen remained and bore glad witness to personal experience of the Lord’s saving power. Since then the work has gone on steadily, and about one soul a day has come into the light. The Spirit is revealing His presence in all grades of the University, and boarders and day pupils are witnessing to His saving power. The work is very quiet, deep and wonderful. There are over forty-five who give evidence of having been “born from above.”

The following incident illustrates the peculiar graciousness of the work as it was modestly related by one of the teachers last evening in Faculty meeting: “Yesterday noon, as my scholars were passing out of the room, a boy stepped out of the line and stood waiting to speak with me. When all had left the room, I said: ‘Well, B., what can I do for you?’ With a voice broken with emotion, he exclaimed: ‘Oh, Miss P.,[140] I want to be a Christian; I have wanted to be one for a good while, and I want you to pray for me.’ I was surprised, as he had given me considerable trouble for weeks, and I had not thought him seriously inclined till that morning.

“‘I certainly will pray for you,’ I replied; ‘would you like to have me do so now?’

“‘Yes, ma’am,’ was his earnest response.

“Turning the key in the lock, to avoid interruptions, I knelt with him and asked the Lord to help him give up everything. He tried to pray, but could only say, ‘Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!!’ and broke into sobs. I then opened the Bible and read, ‘Come unto Me,’ ‘I am the Way,’ and other passages. He having regained his self-possession as I opened to him the Scripture, I said: ‘Now, is there anything you have not given up—anything you are not willing to give up for Christ?’ ‘No,’ he answered, firmly, ‘I do not care for anything; I want to be a Christian.’ I was obliged to leave him here, and did not have a chance to speak with him again that day. This morning he was a little late, but something in his face as he said ‘good morning,’ told me that the struggle was ended. This noon he again left the line, and without waiting for his mates to pass out, held out his hand, joyfully exclaiming: ‘Miss P., I want to tell you that I have found Jesus; I found him last night, and I am happier than I have ever been since I was born; I mean to serve Him as long as I live.’ I never heard a more earnest and hearty confession of Christ.”

The frequent occurrence of incidents like this fill all our hearts with deep awe and invest every act and word with a tender solemnity. We feel the majestic presence in our midst of One seeking and saving that which was lost.

Pray for us, brethren, that the will of God may be fully wrought among us, and these youths, so eager for that education which is so necessary for the future well-being of the South, be enriched above all other getting with “the gift of eternal life.”

M. L. BERGER.

FISK UNIVERSITY.

The time has come in the religious history of the year in Fisk University when an account of the work done may be given. I have no doubt that it will interest and encourage the friends of the Association.

During the week of prayer for the Y. M. C. A. among colleges, the young men of the institution who belong to the Y. M. C. A. of Fisk held meetings and did good work among the young men who do not profess to be Christians. As a result, three or four were hopefully converted.

The week of prayer was observed in the institution, meetings being held immediately after supper. From the beginning to the end the attendance was large and the interest great. The meetings continued four weeks, and have just closed. Twenty-five of the students have been converted,[141] including the three or four who were converted during the week of prayer held by the young men. The interest culminated at the meetings during the day of prayer for colleges.

The afternoon meeting of that day was one of the most remarkable ever held in the University. At the beginning of the meeting, President Cravath gave the following statistics of the higher grades: Students in college, 42, professing Christians, 37; Normal students, 40, professing Christians, 36; College preparatory students, 46, professing Christians, 34. Total number in higher grades, 126; total number of professing Christians, 121, or about 86 per cent.

The key-note to the meeting was given by George McLellan, a former graduate, who had studied theology at Hartford for a year. He said that in a meeting at Hartford he found that Fisk had a larger percentage of Christian students than any other college represented in the meeting, but that the students of Fisk were not entering the ministry in such large numbers as the students from other colleges were.

The key-note once struck, a most interesting discussion arose as to why the students of Fisk were not entering the ministry. Different causes were assigned, which may be reduced to one or two. There is not sufficient inducement offered to the young men to become ministers; the claims of the ministry are not presented with sufficient stress; the churches are so few and so small that the prospect is very discouraging; if a young man offers himself for the ministry, he must go North to study theology, where he is in danger of being educated out of sympathy with his people. The Southern schools have no well-equipped seminaries in which young men may be educated.

The meeting closed with this question still uppermost, and at night it was taken up by common consent and another hour spent in considering it. It was felt by all that the time had come for the establishment of a well endowed theological seminary for the schools in the South.

H. S. BENNETT.

SAVANNAH.

The revival in Savannah and vicinity began with the church in Woodville in November, spread to McIntosh, thence to Savannah. Results: somewhat more than two hundred appear desirous for the Christian life, and great renewal to activity among the members in these churches. The presentation of the sole essential—a crucified Saviour; Scriptures linked in argument like shields in the Phalanx, and pressed day after day by Evangelist James Wharton, of Barrow-in-Furnes, England, are not to be lightly esteemed if no conversion had resulted. The man who holds that the congregations gathered in A. M. A. churches cannot be moved by the Book, was not present during these services. March 6, at our feast of in-gathering, the Savannah Church gave the right hand to twenty-nine new members, in part the fruit of this revival.

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Tender and thankful were the tears of joy shed by the faithful teachers as those converted in answer to their prayers stood forth to confess the Saviour. The harvest from seed long sown was there in the converted mother, at whose recall a Magdalen home is purified, and a son and daughter stand on either hand, making the gracious picture complete. Let Shelburne, Mass., hear this testimony, “I have never been at rest till now since I was in one of Miss Hardy’s mother-meetings long ago.”

DANA SHERRILL.

STORRS SCHOOL.

The last has been a month of much labor and of much rejoicing as well, for the Lord has blessed us—in school and church—we feel. Nearly one hundred conversions in our school and in our Sabbath school, and a great quickening among those who had grown indifferent. I never felt so close to the Master, more that His spirit was so in our midst; and yet there was no excitement—just a ready willing surrender of the heart and life to Jesus. Some of the converts are “little ones,” and some are youths and some are in mid-life. In my own class of young men, ten have found the Saviour and eight of them are to unite with our Church next Sunday. I think there are forty who are proposing a public uniting with us at that time. It is a time of great anxiety for us. The young feet will wander if not guided by earnest Christian admonitions. I need not say we are tired and trying to rest a little before our spring term opens next Monday.

H. J. M.

COMPLIMENTARY CONCERT TO GOVERNOR AND LEGISLATURE OF TENNESSEE BY FISK UNIVERSITY.

The Mozart Society, under the direction of Prof. Spence, has just given its concert complimentary to His Excellency the Governor, and the Legislature of Tennessee. The Governor was unable to attend on account of sickness in his family, but sent a letter to Prof. Spence expressing his regret. This is the third time that a complimentary concert has been given to the Legislature, at its different sessions, but this one was probably the most successful in every sense.

The whole chapel was reserved for our guests; no tickets being sold, and the students not attending, that there might be room for the entire body. A few leading citizens, both white and colored, were invited, and the Faculty and teachers of the University were also present. The night was warm and pleasant, and students appointed for the purpose met our distinguished guests at the street car, a quarter of a mile distant, escorting them up through the unlighted street.

The Hall, however, was brilliantly lighted, and when the concert began was well filled, still others coming in later in the evening.

The Mozart Society, consisting of fifty members, with piano, organ, violins, flute and cornet, occupied the raised platform in front.

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The Society includes all grades of students, but more especially are they from the advanced classes, as the very difficult music which they render requires all the mental power of which they are capable. Prof. Spence is the soul and life of the Society, and gives himself to it with an energy and enthusiasm that is an inspiration to all the members. They have studied music from the great composers for several years, and during the present school year have devoted themselves especially to the Oratorio of Elijah.

The first half of the concert consisted of selections from this Oratorio.

All who are acquainted with the music know that it is simply sublime and that it must be a most unappreciative soul that can listen to it without being deeply moved.

The opening chorus, “Help, Lord! Wilt Thou quite destroy us?” was so full of pathos and of pleading that it seemed to subdue and quiet the whole audience. Indeed, the silence that prevailed throughout the entire rendering testified to the interest felt. When they sang, “Lord! bow thine ear to our prayer!” the breathless stillness in the house made us feel that much of real prayer was there, and we wondered if hearts that had never before felt God’s presence might not be touched by His spirit. Then came the wild cry of the priests of Baal, loud and long and despairing, with the mocking of Elijah, who says, “Call him louder, for he is a God.” A few times the audience broke into applause, but generally expressed themselves by quiet attention.

Probably the style of music was new to many of them, and it was interesting to watch the faces of different ones as they listened. Some were at first perhaps disappointed, evidently not expecting that kind of music, but a growing and deepening interest marked their faces as they sat watching as well as listening.

When Elijah pleaded for rain, and the people cried, “Help, send thy servant help, O God!” “Hear from heaven, and forgive their sin,” the listening attitude of the audience seemed to express sympathy with the sad refrain, and when, at last, the grand chorus, “Thanks be to God,” burst forth, it was almost overwhelming. What a lifting up of voices it was! it with a piercing sweetness that rent the air and bowed all hearts before it.

The second part of the concert consisted of Jubilee songs, college songs, and patriotic songs, more popular music, but to some of us it was a letting down from the heights to which we had been lifted. It was received, however, with demonstrations of delight, which could not have been expressed for the first part, if it had been felt. Almost everything was encored. The college songs were full of rollicking fun, and the Jubilee music brought rounds of applause again and again.

When “Good news, the chariot’s coming,” and “Silver Slippers” were sung, the dignified legislators got to beating time with their feet in real camp-meeting style.

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“Way down upon the Suwanee River” was sung with a softness and sweetness that reminded one of Jenny Jackson in the old Jubilee days. It was listened to with breathless attention and followed by prolonged applause.

The concert closed with “America,” beautiful and grand, as it always is. The whole audience rose to their feet and joined with a heartiness which showed that the “old time” has indeed “gone,” and “new times” for the South, white and black, are already here.

H. M.

THE INDIANS.

THE FAILURE OF THE SIOUX BILL.

This bill, known also as the Dawes Bill, for the opening of parts of the great Sioux reservation and settling the tribal boundaries of each division of the Sioux nation now occupying it, failed to become a law by the fatal objection of one man, Representative Holman.

The bill was warmly advocated by the best friends of the Indians as being the best possible compromise with the tide of civilization pressing in on these people from every side. The Black Hills were seized by the whites first, and bought afterwards. It was hoped to prevent the recurrence of such robberies. It was also felt that these Indians needed to be forcibly reminded that their condition has changed, and that they must speedily adapt themselves to the ways of civilization or go under. The majority of them accept this idea in theory, but are very slow to adjust themselves to it practically. The thing they are slowest about is to select for themselves good lands for homesteads. They are loth to separate from each other, and few of them have any idea of what good land is.

Here may be one of the ways in which the postponement of this measure will be a blessing. Time is something much needed in the Indian’s re-adjustment of himself to the new conditions of life. If he can only be encouraged now to exert himself to establish a separate home and open a farm; if he can be guided so as to avoid serious mistakes, he will come out the better for the delay. Let the Christian public throw their sympathy and interest towards securing this end. The Government is well disposed, but cannot act alone. It will do what the public demands.

What is needed is the multiplication of such sub-agents as our Rev. John E. Smith at the Ponca Agency, Dakota, who is both Government teacher and our missionary. He knows every man, woman and child in his charge, and just what they are doing.

Or take our native missionary, Mr. Francis Frazier, at Burrell Station, Swift Bear’s colony. He is himself a practical farmer, and an Indian. What Indian has done, Indian can do.

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Now, if such men were planted all over the Sioux country in charge of small colonies of farming Indians, properly backed up by Government, the progress of this people would be rapid. As it is, the colony from Rosebud Agency at Swift Bear’s have to choose between the barren lands near the Agency, or spend half their time traveling back and forth over the one hundred and forty miles to their farms located in the best land of the whole reserve. There is no encouragement in that for an Indian to choose land that will bring him a living when Government rations cease.

THE GRAND RIVER MISSION

Miss Collins’ introduction to work in her new field has been no tame affair, as far as the physical elements could make it. The winter has been unusually cold and stormy. But the people have welcomed her cordially, and she has been especially helpful to the sick. Her administration of simple remedies has been blessed of the Lord to work a number of cures, which, to the Indians, have seemed miraculous and have given her a reputation as a healer, so that they bring their sick to her from all directions. One morning she found at her door a young woman sick with pneumonia, who had been brought there on a hand sled by her mother and sister through a fearful snow storm. Miss Collins expostulated with them for so exposing the sick one. The mother answered: “We heard that unless you see their body with your own eyes, and lay your hands upon them, you cannot heal them.” This report, no doubt, arose from her feeling the pulse of the sick.

A child, whose sister had died with convulsions and St. Vitus’ dance, and who was also thought to be dying in the same way, was brought to her. The spasms were relieved at once, and in a few days the root of the difficulty was discovered and she was cured.

Elias Gilbert, the new teacher who takes the place of Edwin Phelps during his absence at Hampton, works in finely. He is very enthusiastic over the progress the people have made under his predecessor and the hearty interest they take in the school and in church services. On the Sabbath there is a very interesting woman’s meeting, numbering about thirty, mostly mothers.

Adams Wakanna is the new worker at Oak Lake, another point in this field. This is newer ground, and the people are yet in careless ignorance of the way of life. But our native helper is full of zeal, for this very reason. He is working well.

Edwin Phelps, who has worked so long and so well in this field, is now at Hampton, Va., taking Bible studies and serving as Indian Chaplain there. Many of the pupils at Hampton are from his own field at Standing Rock Agency. So he has a special interest in them and a personal hold upon them. He cannot fail to do them good.

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This Grand River field should at once have a thorough equipment of buildings and missionary force. Four thousand dollars were given two years ago by Mr. E. B. Monroe to build this Mission. But everything waits for the fit man for a missionary.

THE CHINESE.

A NEW HOME.

BY THE REV. C. T. WEITZEL.

The Santa Barbara Chinese Mission has taken a long step forward. Until the beginning of this year, its rooms were hired. Now it lives in rooms of its own on grounds of its own.

Some time before the annual visit of our faithful Superintendent, the Rev. W. C. Pond, the further use of its old quarters had been denied the mission. In this emergency the teacher of the school, Mrs. E. M. Shattuck, opened her own house for its meetings until it should appear what was wise to do next.

The problem had already been considered by Mr. Pond. With a faith, an energy and a wise caution all alike admirable, he set about the solution of it. Within forty-eight hours after the steamer landed him, a desirable lot had been purchased and the contract for a mission-house made. In a week’s time the building was sufficiently advanced to be used by the young men for their Chinese New-year’s reception. On the evening of Feb. 11th, it was formally dedicated. I had charge of the service, and fully sympathized with Mr. Pond’s earnest wish that it should be a decidedly religious and solemn one. His letter for the occasion, and the addresses of the evening, which were interpreted by the helper, Foo King, all strongly emphasized the religious purpose and character of this mission work. The building was set apart not only as a place of instruction, but also as a place of worship; not only as a school, but also as a sanctuary. May it become, indeed, a sacred place to many of these our brethren by the manifestation of the Divine Spirit in His enlightening and converting power!

As for the spiritual results among these young men, it is even more difficult than in ordinary evangelistic effort to speak definitely and positively. Yet no one, it seems to me, can look into the many eager and open countenances to be seen every evening in those mission rooms, without the conviction that somehow the good seed is growing in those hearts. Nor can I note the cheerful alacrity and the large generosity with which these young men have contributed toward the cost of the new building without a feeling that they have, on the whole, a worthy conception of its[147] purpose. And I certainly cannot contrast the debasing, poisonous atmosphere of the ordinary resorts of their countrymen in Chinatown with the healthy, uplifting atmosphere of this mission home, without the thankful assurance that this is a refuge from temptation as well as an inspiration to a better life for every one of these scholars.

That the Chinese Mission of Santa Barbara is doing good, there is not a doubt in my mind. One of their number made a public confession of his faith in Christ the past year, making four who are now members of the Congregational church. Two or three more are anxious to be baptized, but dare not yet take this step for fear of the bitter opposition and the complete ostracism which they say they must expect from their family connections here and in China if they do.

BUREAU OF WOMAN’S WORK.

MISS D. E. EMERSON, SECRETARY.

My dear friends:

It is Monday morning, “bright and early.” I have taken my seat by an open window, not so much to enjoy the beautiful outside view of green fields and budding trees as the pleasure of a little talk with you.

There are so many things that I want to tell you, I hardly know which to select, but think I will first tell about

“The Mothers’ League.”

I had felt so deeply that more must be done in careful home training by the mothers of these young girls I meet in Sunday-school and sewing-school, if we would raise up true and pure maidens, that I resolved to try to bring more of the mothers together, that we might freely talk the matter over, hoping thus to bring them into a fuller sympathy and helpfulness with my work and with each other. I bought a package of twenty-five visiting cards, and wrote upon each as follows: “The Mothers’ League will meet at Porter Mission, E. Cedar street, at 3 o’clock, next Saturday evening. You are cordially invited to be present.” Then I sent two of our little Sunday-school girls to take them to the homes of those living near each other.

Last Saturday sixteen of these mothers responded by their presence, and we had a very impressive meeting. Mrs. H., of Tillotson Institute, kindly went with me, and spoke pleasantly to them about the very earliest influence of the mother upon her children. I gave them a few incisive thoughts from God’s Word, one of which was this: “As is the mother, so is her daughter.” The poor burdened mothers, who do so desire to be faithful to their children, but feel so helpless, listened earnestly and with eyes full of tears.

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When the question was asked, how many of you would like to join this Mothers’ League? every hand was raised. It seemed best then to suggest only one point of agreement, viz., to pray daily for God’s help in their duties as mothers, and for God’s blessing upon the Mothers’ League.

When asked to suggest the best time when all could unite, one said: “I shall think about it all the day long.” Another said: “I shall pray for it every day at 12 o’clock.” The oldest mother present said: “I think the best time is the first thing in the morning, for we have to pray then, any way.” So it was agreed that with the first waking moments the prayer “God bless the Mothers’ League,” shall ascend from sixteen mothers’ hearts. Will He not bless?

I suggested that we meet again the first Saturday in April, but they said: “That will be a long time to wait; can’t we have another meeting in two weeks?” Consent was given. Then another said: “Can’t we sometimes bring our girls with us?” Consent was given that on the first Saturday in April they might bring their daughters.

I took with me from Tillotson Institute two of the “Young Daughters of the King,” to help in singing, and in this way do something for Jesus. The one who played the organ is the daughter of a minister, who is now pastor of a Congregational Church in Texas, and who was educated in the A. M. A. schools. So true it is that the circle of influence is ever widening.

I find that I have nearly filled my paper, and must leave other things until another time.

We have recently had a cheering visit from Rev. Dr. Beard, Secretary of the American Missionary Association, and the one who has the special charge of the Southern work. Texas is so far away from the centre of things, that we are not often thus favored; so that such visits are the more highly prized when they do come.

M. J. A.

We have had a great spiritual blessing. Only three of my thirty-three Sunday-school boys are not Christians. Sometimes the responsibility almost overpowers me. They have so little help at home, but find so much to hinder and discourage. One bright, smart boy of fifteen has within a few months come into my class, and has accepted Jesus as his Saviour. For nine years he has been smoking, following the example of his father and older brother. Since his conversion he feels he cannot follow this habit, and he is making brave efforts to overcome it. Young as he is, the habit has a very strong hold upon him, and he finds it hard work. But God is helping him, and I know he will succeed. He comes to me each night to report his progress, and for a week has met me every night with a glad smile and the words: “God has helped me, and I haven’t smoked to-day.” One day he got so far as to light the cigarette a boy had[149] forced upon him, but he remembered the verse he had just learned—I Corinthians x, 13—and he threw the cigarette away. There are many equally interesting cases, where help and encouragement are so much needed.

One of our Scholars.—He is in the Third Reader class, and is learning the simplest questions in arithmetic. This is his first year in school, and instead of being a little boy, as you might suppose, he is thirty-five years old, and a “Baptist preacher.”

When he first came, he said: “I ain’t got no learning; what I knows, I just picked up myself.”

One of the boys said: “I advised him to come, so that he can learn to explain, and when he gets up to preach, folks won’t sniggle in their sleeves.”

FOR THE CHILDREN.

DOLLARS FOR SELF, AND CENTS FOR CHRIST.

“Yes, I always give for missions and everything else,” said Phil. “I give something every Sunday; don’t you?”

“Why, no; I give five or ten cents when I think I can spare it, when I have a good deal of money and don’t want it for anything,” said Tom.

“I give whatever papa or mamma gives me for it,” said James. “Sometimes it’s more, and sometimes it’s less.”

“Oh, I always give my own money!” said Phil. “I don’t think it’s any giving at all unless you do that.”

“Yours is the best way, I’m sure,” said Tom, soberly. “They say it’s the regular giving that counts.”

“And then, of course, what you give is just so much out of what you’d like to spend on yourself.”

“Yes,” said Phil, feeling very self-denying and virtuous.

“I’m going to try your way,” said Tom. “And I’m going to keep an account and see what it will amount to.”

The three boys were on their way home from Sunday-school, where they had heard from a missionary some very interesting accounts of the great work which is going on in Africa. He had succeeded in deeply stirring the sympathies of his young hearers, so that many of them went away with the solemn feeling that they should in some sense be held answerable if they did not strive to hold out a helping hand to those in such sore need. For the present it was plain that missionary interest was to be centered in the “dark continent,” and little societies were formed[150] among Sunday-school children, they believing it would be pleasanter to put their gifts together than to offer them separately.

Several boys came to Phil’s house on the next afternoon to talk it over, and Phil brought his account-book to put down their names as the first members of their society, with a preamble in which occurred many high-sounding words setting forth their resolves and intentions.

“What’s this, Phil?” asked his uncle, picking up the book on the same evening, after tea.

“Oh, that’s my account-book, uncle; I brought it down to take names and draw up resolutions for our missionary society.”

“May I read it, or is it a secret organization?”

“Certainly, you may. I am simply, you know, trying to work up the idea of liberal giving among the boys.”

“A most excellent idea,” said his uncle, concealing his amusement at Phil’s rather pompous tone. “Let me see: Bananas, twenty-five cents; soda water, ten cents; peanuts, twenty-five cents; bat, thirty-five cents; candy, fifteen cents; base-ball cap, seventy-five cents; Sunday-school, six cents——”

“Oh, stop, Uncle George; that isn’t in it! That’s when I was visiting at Cousin Tom’s, and I promised mamma that I’d put down every cent I spent.”

But Uncle George seemed not to hear, and went on:

“Peanuts, fifteen cents; bananas, twenty-five cents; getting shoe mended, forty cents; soda water, ten cents; missionaries, five cents; getting bat mended, fifteen cents; lemonade for the boys, fifty cents; bananas, twenty-five cents; collection in church, two cents.”

“Please give me the book, uncle.”

“I’m glad you don’t forget your charitable duties, Phil,” said his uncle, giving up the book with rather a mischievous smile.

Phil took it in some confusion. He had heretofore thought but little more of his spendings than to remember his mother’s wish that he should keep an account of the money with which she had kept him so liberally supplied. Now, in looking over his hasty entries, he was astonished.

“Well, well!” he exclaimed, as he added up one page: “two dollars and ninety cents for eating and play, and seventeen cents for giving, and I bragging to the boys what a good thing it is to give regularly!”

He was a conscientious boy, and his heart smote him as he ran over the long list, and thought with his newly-awakened feelings, of the bread of life which that money might have carried to starving souls. If his mother had aimed to teach him a lesson through his account-book, she had not failed.

He got up at last and stood before the glass.

“Now, my young man,” said he, shaking his head very threateningly at the boyish face he saw there, “you know very well that a quarter for peanuts[151] doesn’t look any larger to you than a pin’s head, and that a quarter for giving looks as big as a cart-wheel—but that’s got to stop, sir! This book isn’t going to hold any more accounts of dollars for trash and cents for Sunday-school.”—The Christian Giver.

RECEIPTS FOR MARCH, 1887.