The American Missionary. Volume 43, No. 09, September, 1889

There are men who never are mistaken. If your opinion or plan, no matter how well sustained, differs from theirs, they solemnly greet you: "Our conscience is our monitor: we can make no concessions of principle." The case is ended. You may as well make your humble bow and pass on, leaving them in their lofty and superior place. Such men are of little use in the world. They may have a few satellites, but that is all. It is noticeable how uniformly the conscience and principles of these men agree with their prejudices, salaries and other interests, and with changed circumstances how "concessions" distill from them gently as the dew.

We quote again from the St. Joseph's Advocate, as to the color line:

Man was created in God's own image and likeness. This image and likeness is, however, not a physical one, it is a spiritual or soul likeness. The likeness and image of the operation of the human soul—the mind—through the material, physical medium of the brain, is not only similar, but substantially and formally alike in every division of the human race. It thus follows that fundamentally there is an identity of mental or soul activity and action in all the human race. Neither color, nor form, nor feature, nor clime, operates a change on the formal and fundamental identity of human thought as evolved by the human mind....

It follows that the negro race, thinking the same thoughts, have the same apprehension of the perfect, good and true, and, thinking in the same lines as the Caucassian race, must needs be of the same order of creation, in the image and likeness of their Maker, although physically different in color, yet in mind and soul the same. This, too, removes the theory of the inferiority of races, and relegates it to the lumber room of the mere physicist or corporal anatomist, who, because he cannot find life in death any more than thought, would deny life as he would deny the soul, even as La Place would not admit a Creator—God— because he could not see him at the end of his telescope....

Naturally working for and under white men, their industry, versatility and submissiveness have made many people think they were an inferior race. This cannot be. Give them a fair chance in life's battle, train their minds, fill their immortal souls with worthy conceptions of the truth as only presented by the Roman Catholic Church, and you will make of the negro race a kind, charitable, intelligent, worthy Christian people, as full of love for the country of their former enslavement as the best patriot descendant of the Revolutionary fathers. Tried in peace and in war when they have received but half the training of the white race, they have not been found wanting, but have proven themselves worthy of offices of trust and honor in every sphere of life and as good Christians as God has ever granted His divine grace to. His promises are for all nations and for all times, and necessarily for the negro as for the white man, all of whom in their souls are created in His own image and likeness from the beginning.

Apropos of Romanism among the colored people, Archbishop Janssens, of New Orleans, writes:

Last year there were baptized 3,705 colored children and 297 colored adults, which I estimate forms a population of about 75,000 Catholics in this Diocese.

We have six convents of colored Sisters, of which four are schools, one an asylum for 74 girls, and the other an asylum, for 21 old women. There are, besides, nine schools conducted by white Sisters, and eleven schools conducted by lay teachers—in all, twenty-four schools with 1,330 scholars. It is not bad.

At Emmetsburg, Maryland, the Roman Catholics report the following:

The Sisters are putting up a large and fine edifice which will be ready for business in September, and will accommodate all the Catholic children, both white-colored and black-colored in the town and vicinity. I am curious to know if this is the first instance in which children of both the dominant races will be educated under one roof.

Says the editor: "How quickly the color-line disappears in the Catholic Church."

NOTES BY THE WAY

BY DISTRICT SECRETARY C.J. RYDER

Not long ago, I met a Frenchman in the halls of the Congregational House, who was looking for Secretary Coit of the Massachusetts Home Missionary Society. He evidently had a very limited knowledge of the English language, for he accosted me as follows:—"You—eh, you somewheres? Ah! I begs my pardon."

This amusing bungle of the French brother fairly represents my condition during the past few weeks. I have not been altogether sure that I was even "somewheres." Preaching one Sunday in Dover, N.H., the next in Talladega, Ala., the next at Santee Agency, Neb., the next on the Cheyenne River, Dak., then enjoying a communion season with Brother Hall at Fort Berthold, and the next standing beside the pastor of a New England Church at the same Lord's table.

The days between these Sabbaths were filled with pleasant duties, in talking over the great work of our Association with the earnest and devoted missionaries. But many things are impressed upon one's thought by such a trip as this. We realize more than ever that the American Missionary Association is a great National Society, limited neither geographically nor by any race restrictions; actually gathering in its schools and missions, Negroes, Whites and Indians, and Chinese and Japanese, and Hondurans and Cubans, and who knows how many other needy and destitute people! Another fact that must impress one, is the thoroughness of the work done. The examinations were thorough and exhaustive in the schools. This was true, not only in the lower grades, but also in the advanced classes. Dr. Andrews conducted the examinations in Church History, at Talladega, which would have done credit to any of our Theological Seminaries. And Dr. DeForest's classes in Mental Philosophy gave evidence of careful study and of assimilation of that which they had studied. They had not only eaten, but had digested their mental food. The same was true at Fisk. What a grand thing it would be, if the good friends of the Association in New England, and elsewhere in the North, to whom our work is only presented through an appeal for funds, might visit some of these grand institutions in the South and West, and see just what is being done for these neglected people! The work cannot be appreciated in its vast importance and magnificent results, except after such a personal inspection of the field.

These large institutions are the centers of still larger missionary work outside. One professor in Talladega, a graduate of Harvard, has been especially busy during the last year, developing the Sunday-school work in the surrounding districts. The following are some of the results:– eight Sunday-schools enrolling about five hundred scholars; thirty teachers, all students in the College; two schools meet in buildings belonging to the College, three in log churches, owned by other denominations, not having Sunday-schools, two in log cabins. "In one school, teachers and scholars have to huddle together under umbrellas, if they have any, or go wet, if they haven't them, whenever it rains; and it is a sight which makes one long for better accommodations, that more efficient work may be done," writes this self-sacrificing professor in a note just received. In one house, he found a family of white children, all of them very ignorant, and, so far as he was able to discover, there was not a single book of any kind in the cabin. He invited the children to Sunday-school, where, like Robert Raikes, he teaches reading and spelling as well as the Bible, but the mother indignantly refused, saying that she "didn't let her children go to school with Niggers!"

There are many evidences of heroic sacrifice on the part of the people among whom we labor, that one runs across in such a trip as this. Here is one: A small church in Alabama has recently voted to pay fifty dollars per month of their pastor's salary, that they may become self-supporting, and so let the funds which they have received go to other more needy fields. There are seventy-five persons in this church who might be termed paying members; of all these, the pastor informed me, not more than fifteen receive over a dollar per day; sixty receive less than this. They pay, on an average, ten dollars per month for rent; there are twenty-six working-days to the month, and they often lose at least five of these, on account of weather or lack of work, making an income of only twenty-one dollars per month. Ten dollars going for rent, leaves but eleven dollars for the support of the family. Pretty heroic economy that!

The Annual Meeting of the Dakota Mission, the Convention of missionaries who are at work in the Indian field under the direction of this Association, gathered at Santee Agency, Nebraska, Saturday, June 15, and was full of interest. Sessions were held for three days, and continued late into the night. Thrilling incidents of exposure on the prairie during winter, swimming swollen and chilly streams, breaking through the ice when crossing, which, in one case, resulted in the drowning of a team of horses, seemed to be every-day incidents in the life of these heroic missionaries, who are carrying on this noble work among the Indians. The two Riggs brothers, whose heredity as well as personal consecration fit them for large usefulness in the Indian work, were especially rich in experience and inspiring in conference. One thing, especially, impressed me in this Indian work, and that was, the difference in character between the average teacher employed by the Government and those employed by this Association and other missionary bodies. Many noble men and women are at work under the Government in teaching the Indians, but the purpose of the Government-school at the best is simply to make intelligent citizens. The purpose of the mission-school is to develop character, to inculcate purity, to create moral earnestness, in other words, not simply to citizenize, but to Christianize. We need more mission schools among the Indians, for only the mission idea can redeem a pagan people. I would like to speak of Miss Collins's work, gradually bringing the village of Running Antelope on the Grand River into the knowledge of Christ, and of the developing work at Fort Yates, and of the work among the Mandans, Rees and Gros Ventres, and of the motley and picturesque crowd that gathered for communion in the little church at Fort Berthold; but the interesting facts from these fields must be left for other notes.

THE SOUTH

The Daniel Hand Fund is doing a noble work this first year in the education of many students who would otherwise not have been able to attend school.

HOWARD UNIVERSITY, THEOLOGICAL DEPARTMENT

The anniversary of this department opened the commencement week of the Howard University at Washington, D.C., which extended from Friday, May 24th, to Wednesday, May 29th. A crowded audience was in attendance at the Asbury colored church. The graduating class of four was exceptionally small this year, having been less in number than usual on entering three years ago, and having been particularly unfortunate in deaths and removals. The preceding graduating class numbered twelve, and the succeeding one will number thirteen. But the addresses delivered by the young men were of excellent quality, eliciting high approval from numerous intelligent judges who were present. One general from the army, who listened with great interest, came up afterwards to express thanks to one of the Professors for having invited him to attend the exercises.

TILLOTSON INSTITUTE, AUSTIN, TEXAS

Wednesday, June 5, witnessed the close of the eighth year in the history of Tillotson Institute. The closing exercises began on Thursday, May 30, with the annual written examinations which, on account of the very large attendance of this year—greater than ever before—meant more work than usual for the teachers. These examinations cover the work of the entire year, and are looked forward to with much apprehension by the students.

For the past three years, the last Saturday afternoon before commencement has been set apart as "Tillotson Day," and devoted to exercises appropriate to such an occasion. This year, Rev. W.H. Shaw, pastor of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church in this city, addressed the students in the chapel. This was followed by a pic-nic on the school grounds.

The last Sunday in the school is rather a sad day to most of the teachers. There are many interests in these Sunday-schools which one cannot bear the thought of leaving for four long months. We can only hope that the good seed sown during the year has not fallen on stony ground or by the wayside, and that it will survive the heat of the summer.

Monday and Tuesday were devoted to oral examinations. These were held in the chapel and were attended by an unusually large number of the parents and friends of the students from the city and elsewhere. The classes acquitted themselves very creditably; especially good, however, were the examinations of the seventh grade in geometry and the fourth grade in geography.

More attention has been given this year to industrial training than ever before. In the recitation rooms, were specimens of the handiwork of the students in the various industrial departments. A class of little girls told of the various forms of needlework, which was something more than theory with them, as their samples of work on exhibition testified. There was not a useless article in the entire collection; they have been taught how to make serviceable garments. Very neat specimens of darning and mending were displayed, also.

The cooking classes exhibited samples of their skill. The disappearance of all the handiwork of this class in the course of inspection witnessed to its success. The classes in carpentry displayed specimens of their skill. This is the first year that this industry has been taught here.

On Tuesday evening, occurred the annual musical and rhetorical entertainment. A large audience is always expected on this occasion, but this year it was larger than ever. Before eight o'clock, the chapel with the adjoining halls and recitation rooms were filled, and notwithstanding the efforts of the ushers to find room for every one, about half the number were obliged to go away. One little boy who came especially to see the dumbbell drill was found under the front steps, after the close of the entertainment, fast asleep. He had taken refuge there to await a chance to get a seat in the chapel later in the evening.

On Wednesday morning, an audience of much more manageable magnitude than that of the previous evening assembled at 10 o'clock, to listen to the regular commencement exercises. These consisted of essays, orations, recitations and declamations. Two young men, one of whom was graduated last year from the elementary normal course, were graduated from the higher normal course. The original productions presented this year were said to have been unusually good. A visitor, in an address made after the presentation of the diplomas, in speaking of the excellence of the orations said of one of them, "It would be creditable on the platform of any school in the United States."

The year just ended has been one of hard work and great prosperity. The attendance has been not only larger than ever before, but constant, and the result of such steady and persistent work is, as might be expected, gratifying progress in all departments.

EXTRACT FROM A VALEDICTORY ADDRESS

An account of the closing exercises of Avery Institute in South Carolina, was given in the MISSIONARY last month. A copy of the valedictory address of one of the pupils has been sent to us, from which we excerpt one or two passages to give the flavor of the occasion. We think it would be creditable to any school of like grade in the country.

To-day we are to go forth. Is it strange that emotions deep and solemn should pervade our hearts? Amid these emotions, gratitude stands prominent—gratitude to the honored Association which has placed within our reach these opportunities for the development of intellect and of character that fit us to take our places in life as intelligent men and women. In behalf of the class of '89 and of all our schoolmates, we return to THE AMERICAN MISSIONARY ASSOCIATION our heartfelt thanks, and invoke for it the richest blessings of Him who maketh rich.... In bidding adieu to school life, the thought which presses most forcibly is that we are supposed now to be ready for our duties in life. Let us rather remember that we have but caught a glimpse of the knowledge which lies beyond and which beckons to us. May our thirst for it be insatiable. Let us take care of each day and each hour, and show to our Heavenly Father that we love his precepts, and are seeking to live true and holy lives. Our places here will soon be filled, but nothing will take away from our hearts the memories of dear old Avery.

MISSIONARY VISITS

BY MRS. A.W. CURTIS

We were going out for a ride, a pleasure ride, a mission of mercy to the sick and afflicted, to carry them spiritual and physical comforts.

We have no missionary horse and buggy, and it was not an elegant equipage standing before our door. Our steed was a very lank, bony, long-eared mule, and the vehicle a rather disreputable looking old delivery wagon, kindly loaned to us by our grocer; but we were thankful for anything that would take us safely. We soon came to a deep, ugly-looking ravine, that must be crossed. I walked over the log that spanned it, while Dominie "rattled his bones over the stones," down the steep descent, and up the farther side in safety, thanks to the sure-footed mule. Just beyond was a small rude cabin. The old chimney had tumbled down, leaving nearly the whole of one side entirely open to the weather. Inside, upon a bed that nearly filled the small room, lay a woman who was paralyzed. A little child was her only attendant. Some kind neighbor, however, had made her clean and comfortable for the day. The poor woman could not move, but her dark eyes beamed with delight at the sight of us, and the poor drawn face expressed the joy she could not speak. We talked of the dear friend Jesus, whom she loved and trusted, sang together a song of faith, and commended her to heaven's mercy and kindness, in prayer.

On we went again, over the hills, the sun climbing higher and growing hotter every moment. Then we turned off into some dim cool woods, picking our way through rough ravines and blind tracks until we reached another little cabin home. We had to bend low to enter the door of the rough, rude house, yet the one low room, with loft above, sheltered a family of nine persons.

Upon a bed, the dear old grandmother was dying, but the dark cabin seemed illuminated by the shining face of the happy saint.

"You are almost home, Auntie?"

"Yes chile, almost home!"

"And you find Jesus dear and precious, now?"

"Yes! yes! dear and precious."

I held her cold, almost pulseless hands in mine, while her minister read comforting words of hope from the blessed Word. Then we sang for her, closing with—

"Oh come, angel bands, come and around me stand,Oh bear me away on your snowy wingsTo my eternal home."

Her dark face was fairly radiant. She lifted her hands toward heaven, and though our eyes were holden that we could not see, we felt that the Lord and his angels were glorifying that humble abode, making it the gateway of heaven. Holding fast to our hands as we knelt beside her bed, she murmured responses to our prayers.

With uplifted hearts, we said our last good-bye, and went away rejoicing in her triumph over the terrors of death and at the thought of the glory that awaited her. As we passed out of sight, she entered within the gates, with that radiant look upon her face; and the next day at sunset we laid her away to rest.

From this "Beulah-land," we hastened on to visit a man who was in the last stages of consumption. We had been for some time doing what we could that he might be prepared for the great change that was drawing near. In the low doorway, sat an old hag-like woman, who stared at us with a look of rage, as we passed by her into the room where the sick man was. Sultry as was the day, there was a hot blaze in the cavernous fireplace. Over it hung an iron kettle, from which most sickening odors emanated. The sick man was in a heavy stupor. We tried in vain to arouse him, even for a moment. His wife looked unusually cheerful, as she assured us that he "was a great deal better; that he did not cough at all, and rested mighty easy."

We understood the situation at once. The poor woman was densely ignorant, and believed her husband had been "conjured." The old hag in the doorway was "a witch doctor," who had promised to cure him for ten dollars! How the poor wife with her five little children to support managed to raise it, God only knows; but she had done it, and was pouring down that unconscious man's throat, hourly doses of a villainous compound of most loathsome things, over which the old hag muttered her incantations, and worked her Satanic spells. She watched us with her evil eye as we looked pityingly upon the poor sufferer, and glared menacingly when we told the poor wife that he was no better; that the end was near.

That very night the death-like stupor was broken by agonies of torture which racked the wasted frame for many hours. There was no respite for a prayer, or for a thought of the eternity into which his poor soul was hastening. The witch doctor fled in haste, unable to endure the sight of the tortures she herself had invoked. It was an unutterable relief when those shrieks of agony were hushed by the awful silence of death.

To us, there came an added burden of care as we realized how many of this people are still in bondage to these heathenish customs and superstitions. Nothing but the light of a pure gospel and the elevating influences of education, will lift them out of their degradation. It will take years of time, and patient labor, and will cost something; but these souls are precious to God. They are "the heathen at our door." There are millions of them! They will soon be a mighty power for good or evil in our nation. Which shall it be?

A CALL FROM AUNT MARY

Aunt Mary is a member of one of our colored churches—a genuine daughter of Africa—possessing characteristics belonging rather to the rougher than the softer sex—a peddler by occupation; peddling cast-off clothing (which she gets from white folks) among her colored sisters.

This business, together with her masculine performances and her qualification in plantation melodies, makes her exceedingly popular with the colored people of the town.

"Hello! Hello!" rang out from the highest key-note one morning just after breakfast. Going to the door to see who it was, aunt Mary was standing at the gate; she had come to make us a social and business call.

"Dog bite?" she asked. "Yes," was the reply, "but he won't bite you, open the gate." Aunt Mary opened it and entered the yard. "Mornin'" (again at a high key). "Good morning, walk in." "I come roun ter see you all dis mornin'; I dun know if I am 'ceptable." "Certainly, aunt Mary, you are, walk in and take a seat by the fire."

Aunt Mary walked in, took a seat before the fire, placed her bag and an old hat-box on the floor by her side and for a moment looked around the room, noticing everything. Then she took up the poker, commenced poking the fire, as if she wanted more heat to enable her to explain the chief object of her visit. The heat is now up to the degree required, the poker is laid aside, the old hat-box is in her lap, and aunt Mary is ready to talk business. Opening the box, she said to Mrs. R., "Sister, I have something har I want ter show you; dun know if you want ter see it." "What is it?" Mrs. R. enquired. Here she pulled out a second-hand bonnet trimmed in high colors. "A lady," she said, "give me dis last night to sell. I aint show it to no body yet; she say to take it to some of de preachers' wives be case it's too stylish for these yer common niggers." The hat was examined and returned with, "I don't think I need a hat just now, aunt Mary."

"Do you sell a great deal?" "Yes 'urn, but sometimes 'tis mighty hard to get money out ter our people. Dat ar – (naming the man) tuck a dress from me for his wife; can't get a nickel from him, and every time he see me he dodge inter some corner." "How do they pay? Cash?" "No, one dollar a week till dey finish payin." "As a general thing I suppose they try to meet you pretty promptly, don't they?" "Lors, no, honey! dey alus put me off; but I keep a runin' and runin' every week jis ter make dem tell lie."