Part 4

The discussion on the topic of “Education” called forth the deep convictions of the brethren that the churches need and must have educated pastors, and that the colored people must demand the highest benefits of education that can be obtained. The first eager, enthusiastic desire for education which followed in the wake of emancipation has been succeeded by a calm, intelligent, determined conviction that the future of the race in America depends upon the thorough education of the people.

CHURCH EXTENSION.

A question which occupied the serious attention of the brethren was the extension of our work in the State,—how may our churches be strengthened and their usefulness extended, and how may new fields be occupied and cultivated? It was represented to the Conference that several churches occupying virtually an independent position were prepared to join our ranks, and that “all things were ready” to organize churches in many communities where the people were in sympathy with our spirit and polity. To meet this demand, and to gather a harvest already ripe, the Conference decided, and I think wisely, to appoint from their own number four missionaries, who should go through the Southern parishes to preach the Word, to instruct and encourage the people, and, wherever the opportunity offered, organize believers into churches, and minister to them till stated preaching and pastoral care could be provided. The brethren appointed were Rev. W. P. Ward, of Gretna, Rev. James Craig, of Algiers, Rev. Homer Jones, of Lake Peigneur, and Rev. Samuel Smith, of Terrebonne.

I have great confidence that these brethren will bring good tidings to the Conference in 1880.

ORDINATION.

The church at Terrebonne asked that Samuel Smith, who had for several years exercised his gifts as a preacher, and who was known to the brethren as a thoroughly good man, be ordained to the Gospel ministry. The church at Lafourche Crossing presented the name of William Reed, who had supplied their pulpit for one year; and Thomas E. Hillson, of New Orleans, who was licensed two years ago, applied in his own name for ordination. The examination of the candidates was faithful and searching, and was well sustained. It was unanimously approved, and the public services of ordination took place on Saturday night, in the presence of a very large and deeply interested audience.

THE BAPTISM OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.

I have reserved till now the narrative of one of the most wonderful and precious revivals it has been my privilege to witness. Occurring in connection with the sessions of the Conference, it seemed like the Divine benediction upon our work.

The pastor, Rev. Wm. Butler, said to me on my arrival, “We want revival services every night. I have announced them, and the people expect them.”

No special services had been held, and no conversions had occurred; but the people were anticipating the Conference with great expectations of good. The first night the church was filled. As Moderator I preached the annual sermon to an attentive and tender audience. At the conclusion of my sermon the pastor said to me, “Call out the mourners.” I said, “No; wait until to-morrow night.” In my heart I did not expect a revival to begin the first night.

The early morning prayer meeting was a rich spiritual feast; the discussions during the day were marked by perfect harmony. At night the church was packed. The spirit of God was manifestly present. Mr. Hall and Mr. Ward preached effectively. Those desiring to become Christians were invited forward to the “mourner’s seat.” Thirteen responded. The good work had begun, and we had only to “wait and see the salvation of God.”

An inquiry meeting was held in connection with the morning prayer meeting. Those who came proved by their words and manner how deeply God had convicted them of sin, and their need of a Saviour. Night came again, and with it an eager, crowded assembly. Mr. James preached earnestly, and the number of inquirers was increased to twenty.

The next night, Saturday, was to be the last of our Conference, and my anxiety was almost painful. I was appointed to preach the ordination sermon for the three brethren to be set apart to the ministry, and in my selection and treatment of a subject I had but one desire and thought—to deepen the impression already made, and to persuade sinners to make their peace with God. I said to the brethren, “We will change the usual order of services, and the sermon will come last to-night.” God helped me to preach. I felt that His word went home to many hearts. The church could not nearly contain the throngs who came. The door-ways were crowded, and numbers stood beneath all the windows. The appeal to rise and come to Jesus was responded to by 40, half of whom were men. None could doubt the presence and power of the Holy Ghost. The tidal wave was moving on, but had not yet reached its height. On Sunday morning I took a 5 o’clock breakfast and started for two distant churches, the one 15 miles away and the other 25 miles distant from New Iberia, leaving St. Paul’s church in the care of the pastors who had remained over the Conference. As I was passing the house of one of the brethren I was called in to see the most prominent man in the community among the colored people, formerly State senator, who was under the deepest and most agonizing conviction of sin. He had risen from his bed two hours before the break of day, and had come to this house to beg the brethren to pray for him. The household were aroused, a prayer circle was formed around him, and they interceded for him with heartfelt earnestness. When I went in he was pacing the room, his tears were flowing like summer rain, and cries of agony broke from his lips. “What does this mean, Mr. Alexander?” he said to me. I replied, “It means, my dear friend, that God is speaking to you, and entreating you to repent and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ.” We knelt together. I prayed for him; and he then and there offered up to God the prayer of a contrite, heart-broken man. I shall always remember one or two expressions in that prayer. “O God! Thou hast always been kind and good to me. Thou hast crowned my life with blessings, and I have been Thine enemy. O God! spare me and save me. My poor little babes who are in heaven, go to Jesus and ask Him to forgive me. All Christians in heaven, go to the Saviour and intercede for me.”

I was obliged to leave him to meet my appointments. I returned on Monday. The pastor and people met me and said, “You cannot go to New Orleans to-day; you must preach to-night.” I gladly consented. Never did I feel myself so completely in God’s hands. It was an unspeakable joy to preach the precious Gospel that night. I again appealed to all who felt their need of forgiveness to come forward and begin a Christian life. As though moved by one impulse, SIXTY at once came forward and fell upon their knees. I saw before me 30 men from 18 to 70 years of age, and as many women. With prayer and song and exhortation the meeting continued till nearly midnight. We could not close it a moment sooner. Eight or ten found peace in believing in Jesus on their knees that night.

I was compelled to return to New Orleans on Tuesday. It was God’s work, and He carried it forward gloriously. About 50 have already joined the church, including the man of whom I have particularly spoken. His confession of Christ in the church was manly and thrilling. I am in almost daily receipt of letters from the young converts. Their joy is deep, peaceful and intelligent. I feel how inadequately I have described this wonderful work of grace. I have left much for our friends to infer; but even then they can hardly conceive the warmth, the depth and the glory of this work of God.

I am profoundly grateful for the Conference of 1879, and desire to say to our friends that the “signs of promise” for our small band of Congregational churches in Louisiana were never so bright as to-day. Let those who have ever been the friends of the colored people take fresh heart and courage, and push forward the work, till brighter, richer, grander results are attained.

* * * * *

THE INDIANS.

THE SPICE OF MISSIONARY LIFE.

Rev. Myron Eells, S’Kokomish, W. T.

This frontier life among the Indians has its romance, some things being pleasant and some not so pleasant. The white people in the region where I travel are generally as kind as they can be; the Indians seldom do a favor without wishing pay for it, though that is not always so; but the elements are sometimes antagonistic.

At one time I was returning from Seabeck in a canoe, thirty miles distant, after preaching, with two Indians. We live three miles above the mouth of the S’kokomish River, but everywhere around its mouth are mud flats, which are very troublesome at low tide. At nine o’clock at night we reached the mouth of the river, with the tide low and still running out. The Indians thought that they could find the channel, but in the darkness they made a mistake and ran on to the flats, where we remained until the tide turned. It was chilly, as a November night generally is. We had an overcoat and pair of blankets which kept us somewhat comfortable, but it was four o’clock in the morning before we reached home.

Again, I started with eight canoes from Port Gamble for Seabeck, twenty miles, but a strong head wind arose. The Indians worked hard for five hours, when nearly all gave out, having traveled only ten miles, and we camped on the beach. It rained also, and the wind blew stronger, so that the trees were constantly falling around us. I had only a pair of blankets, an overcoat and a mat with me, but having obtained another mat of the Indians, I made a slight roof over me with it, and went to sleep. About two o’clock in the morning I was aroused by the Indians, when I learned that a very high tide had come and drowned them out. My bed was on higher ground than theirs, but in fifteen minutes that ground was three or four inches under water. We waded around, put our things in the canoes, and soon, wet and cold, in the middle of February, we started. There was still some rain and wind, and rowing by turns in order to keep from suffering, it took us four hours to reach our destination.

I started from Dunginess for Elkwa, a distance of twenty-five miles, on horseback, but after proceeding ten miles the horse became so lame that he could go no farther. I could not well get another one, so I was obliged to travel on foot; but soon I reached Morse Creek, and could find no way of crossing. The stream was quite swift, having been swollen by recent rains. The best way seemed to be to ford it; so after taking off some of my clothes, I started in. It was only about three feet deep, but so swift that it was difficult to stand, and cold as December; but with a stick to feel my way, I crossed, and it only remained for me to get warm, which I soon did by climbing a high hill.

Coming from Elkwa on a previous trip, on horseback, with a friend, we were obliged to travel on the beach for eight miles, as there was no other road. The tide was quite high, the wind was blowing and the waves came in very roughly. There were many trees lying on the beach, around which we were obliged to canter as fast as we could when the waves were out. But one time my friend who was ahead just passed safely, while I was caught by the wave, which came up to my side, and a part of which went over my head. It was very fortunate that my horse was not carried off his feet.

Another of our experiences, which is very unpleasant, is with the vermin, especially the fleas, which dwell constantly with the Indians and with some of the whites. I stood one evening and preached in one of their houses, when I am satisfied that I scratched every half minute during the service; for, although I stood them as long as I could, I could not help it. I would quietly take up one foot and rub it against the other leg; put my hand in my pocket or behind my back, and treat the creatures as gently as I could, and the like.

Once in a while I am obliged to stay over night in one of their houses in the winter, a thing I seldom do unless there is no white man’s house near; even in summer they are afraid the panthers will eat me up if I sleep outside; but between the fleas, rats and smoke (for they often keep the house full of smoke all night), sleep is not very refreshing, and the next morning I feel more like a piece of bacon than a minister.

But Indian houses are not the only unpleasant ones. Here we are at a hotel, the best in a milling town of four or five hundred people; but the bar-room is filled with tobacco smoke almost as thick as the smoke from the fires which often fills an Indian house. Here about fifty men spend a great portion of the night (some of them all night) in drinking, gambling and smoking. The house is used to it, for the rooms directly over the bar-room are saturated with the smoke, and I am assigned to one of these rooms. Before I get to sleep the smoke has so filled my nostrils that I cannot breathe through them, and at midnight I wake up with a headache so severe that I can scarcely hold up my head for the next twenty-four hours. It is not so bad, however, but that I can do a little thinking on this wise: Who are the lowest, the Indians or these whites? The smoke in each of their houses is of about equal thickness; that of the Indians, however, is clean smoke from wood; that of the whites filthy from tobacco. The Indian has sense enough to make holes in the roof where some of it may escape; the white man does not even that much. The Indian sits or lies on or near the ground, beneath a great portion of it; the white man puts a portion of his guests and his ladies’ parlor in rooms directly over it. Sleeping in the Indian smoke, I come out well, though feeling like smoked bacon, and a thorough wash cures it; but sleeping in the white man’s smoke I come out sick, and the brain has to be washed.

But these are the sharp spice. There is another side, more like currant jelly. The people are generally as kind as they can be. “We will give you the best we have,” is what is often told me, and they do it. Here are houses, where I occasionally stop a week at a time, and the people will take nothing for it. Here is a region for forty miles, where a man’s company is supposed to pay for his lodgings at any house. Now I meet a man who offers to go home, half a mile, on purpose to get me a dinner; or a girl, with whose family I am very slightly acquainted, stands on the porch as I pass and says, “Mister, have you been to dinner? You had better stop and have some.” Here is a hotel-keeper, who has sold whiskey for fifteen years, who puts me in his best room, one fitted up for private use, and will take nothing for it. Now I am invited into the home of the superintendent of a large mill, and during the two years and a half that I have occasionally preached at the place I have spent seven weeks in his family, yet he will never take anything for it, and hardly allow me to thank him. Again, here is a steamer, which has always carried me free whenever myself or family wished to travel on it, and which during two years and a half has actually given me sixty or seventy-five dollars’ worth of travel. Then there is another which runs irregularly, but whose captain says, “Whenever you or your family or your Indian and canoe wish to travel where I am going, I will take you all free,” and who has actually made extra effort with his steamer in order to help me.

Indians, too, are not wholly devoid of gratitude. Now it is a funeral. They are often accustomed to make presents at such times to their friends who attend. “Take this money,” they say to me, as they give me two or three dollars; “do not refuse; it is our custom, for you come to comfort us with Christ’s words.” Again, I am at a great festival, and am there on purpose to protect them from drunkenness and other evils equally bad; so they hand me seven dollars and a half, saying, “You have come a long distance to help us; we cannot give you food as we do these Indians, as you do not eat with us,” (and generally I do not, if I can avoid it); “take this money, it will help to pay your board.” Or, again, they carry me nearly a hundred miles free, in order that I may teach them and dedicate a church for them.

God is good to put these kind thoughts into the hearts of the people, and not the least good thing He has put in the Bible is that verse about the giving of a cup of cold water.

THE CHINESE.

“CALIFORNIA CHINESE MISSION.”

Auxiliary to the American Missionary Association.

PRESIDENT: Rev. J. K. McLean, D. D. VICE-PRESIDENTS: Rev. A. L. Stone, D. D., Thomas C. Wedderspoon, Esq., Rev. T. K. Noble, Hon. F. F. Low, Rev. I. E. Dwinell, D. D., Hon. Samuel Cross, Rev. S. H. Willey, D. D., Edward P. Flint, Esq., Rev. J. W. Hough, D. D., Jacob S. Taber, Esq.

DIRECTORS: Rev. George Mooar, D. D., Hon. E. D. Sawyer, Rev. E. P. Baker, James M. Haven, Esq., Rev. Joseph Rowell, Rev. John Kimball, E. P. Sanford, Esq.

SECRETARY: Rev. W. C. Pond. TREASURER: E. Palache, Esq.

THE “CONGREGATIONAL WAY” IN MISSION WORK.

REV. WM. C. POND, SAN FRANCISCO.

There are two methods of dealing with converts from heathenism, whether in our own land or that from which they come. One is that which treats them as children to be provided for and controlled; the other is that which welcomes them at once as co-workers—as brethren, having only one Master, and that _our_ Master, even Christ. According to the one, the missionary lays the plans, and the converts work by it, if at all; to consult them would puff them up and make them presumptuous. According to the other,—while, of course, those who are responsible for the use of funds must control in regard to expenditures, and, consequently, must retain a veto power as to almost all projects for concerted work,—still suggestions from the brethren are cordially welcomed and carefully considered, and they are encouraged to work for Christ, with earnest prayer for _His_ guidance, each in the way Christ points out specially to him. The one is apt to say, “Do as you see us do, accepting our standard and walking by our rules;” the other inculcates principles—faith, hope, charity, and believes that with these in the heart the young disciple may become a law unto himself. I scarcely need say which of these two is the “Congregational way.”

There are various objections made to this way; one, and the chief, is that it is not adapted to these undeveloped Christians—babes in Christ. They are but children, and must be treated as such. It is urged on foreign missionary fields with greater show of reason possibly, but it is the same objection which for so many years hindered the planting of Congregational churches in our new settlements at the West. We were told that Congregationalism was good for New England, but not stout enough for the rough-and-tumble, heterogeneous communities in the younger States. It is the same which is now urged against Congregationalism in the South. The negro race, we are assured, is too emotional, too ignorant, too easily carried away by every wind of doctrine or of feeling, to be entrusted with self-government.

If you work upon this scheme among converts from heathenism, it is certain that you will find trouble. If you work upon the other, you will find trouble also. No good work in this evil world ever went forward without trouble. But this “Congregational way,” it is supposed by some, opens the door specially wide to all sorts of dissatisfaction and dissension. False brethren, unawares brought in, will scatter seeds of heresy and lead off into all sorts of back-slidings. Time will be wasted in disputes that had better be given to study and prayer. Ill-considered and impossible projects will be pressed upon you, and you will find the exercise of your veto power involving you in ungracious, even hostile, criticism. Thus your influence will be weakened, and your usefulness impaired.

These objections are plausible, and address themselves to principles in human nature which the new birth, and even a missionary’s consecration, do not at once supplant. If we are not mistaken, they have gone far to determine the method in much of the missionary work of the world.

But if we have read the New Testament correctly, the method against which these objections may be urged, is the one under which the first Christian missions were conducted—the one to which the teachings of the Master point, and which the example of his Apostles has endorsed. And the heathen among whom these primitive missions were conducted were just such as we find in the world to-day, only, if possible, more corrupt—a less promising material for a self-governing church.

It is certain, furthermore, that those primitive churches, organized on this scheme of Christian liberty, did get into difficulties—into just such difficulties as these objections suggest. The epistles give mournful evidence of this. The hearts of the Apostles were often heavy on account of it. And yet no other scheme was substituted for it until long after the Apostles’ day, and liberty, with all its dangers and all its inconveniences, was preferred to any yoke of bondage, however well contrived.

I believe that the Apostles were right in this, and that we do well to follow in their steps. It may be that we shall have trouble which, under a less democratic régime, we might have escaped; but these troubles, if the hearts that are exercised by them are really renewed, may be made means of grace; while, if there be lurking hypocrisy, it will be, by the same means, brought to light. And, then, the smothered discontent under a system of churchly government in distinction from Christian fellowship, may be more poisonous than even open disputes can be. Encourage the free and frank expression of what lies troublesome within; thus often a few words of explanation remove the cause of friction, or, possibly, the very effort to express one’s discontent reveals its futility and unreason. Furthermore, let me add, out of oft-repeated experiences, the suggestions of these brethren who have come out of the depths of _heathenism_, and know it as no words could possibly portray it, are often very wise. The superintendent of mission work, no matter how well schooled he be in the language and literature, the history, philosophy and laws of the people for whom he labors, can never know their heathenism as they know it themselves. A system which invites such suggestions, which encourages the idea that the work is not mine only, but theirs also, which thus nurtures frankness and freedom of utterance, has advantages which no system of constraint and repression can possibly secure.

And, then, it is only under conditions of liberty that the educating process can go on to best advantage. Men learn to swim, not by hearing lectures on the art, but _by swimming_; and men are educated up to manhood in Christ, to self-denial and self-control, only as they have it thrown upon them to control themselves. Men learn their weak points by being put to the test; and the weak are strengthened best by well-timed, well-measured exercise. And Christ has organized His churches with reference to this; not for the smoothest possible working of Gospel machinery, but for the highest possible attainment in faith and hope and love by each individual soul.

I venture to throw out these hints as indicating the principle on which our Chinese mission is conducted; and now I wish to testify, after so many years, that if it were possible to begin again, we could choose no other one than that, the underlying principle of the “Congregational way.”

GOLDEN WEDDING GIFTS.

From our Treasurer’s correspondence this month, we copy the two following items: