Part 3

Sad news just reaches us from Texas of the defeat of the prohibitory amendment to the State constitution. Ignorant Mexicans were brought over the border to vote for rum, and so overcame the honest vote of the Christian and moral people of the State. Jefferson Davis, after permitting a member of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union, who was more enthusiastic than patriotic, to pin a silver badge of that society upon his coat in evidence of the esteem in which this prohibition society held him, wrote a letter to the people in Texas denouncing the prohibitory movement. Mr. Davis’ prohibition seems much like his patriotism, “conspicuous for its absence.”

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CHARLESTON, S.C.

The past year has been a prosperous one for Plymouth church, notwithstanding the earthquake. The people are struggling manfully toward self-support, and will in the course of two or three years be able to relieve the Association of the greater part, if not the entire burden of the appropriation which is now granted to it.

The earthquake has proven of much benefit to Charleston in various ways—a real blessing in disguise. Many houses have been repaired which probably would have remained unimproved, and the city presents a more lively appearance than before the disturbance. Many persons were shaken into their senses from a spiritual standpoint, and the work of God’s servants has been greatly blessed. We have reaped a goodly harvest. During the past year and six months, 102 persons have united with the church, about 25 of whom were more or less impressed with the manifestation of God’s power in the earthquake. There are many careless, lethargic places which might be benefited by a similar experience. There has been more faithful preaching of the Gospel to sinners since than before. There is perhaps in the South, as well as in the North, too much of a tendency toward speculative and æsthetic discourse, rather than direct and comprehensive exposition of God’s word. Wherever the cross of Christ is preached with earnestness, good results are sure to follow, as is plainly shown in the sequel of the Charleston earthquake.

We are working hard to raise funds for the erection of a parsonage for our church, which will cost about $1,800; we have raised already $400, and have the lot. The parsonage completed and paid for will enable the church to become in a large measure self-supporting. We shall lay the foundation as soon as half of the amount needed is raised. We hope to begin this work the coming fall.

America is a wonderful mission field, and we who are laboring in that field can appreciate the American Missionary Association and its work. Withdraw the influence of this work from the South, and it would prove a calamity more serious in its results than a dozen earthquakes. The needs of the work grow greater year by year, and we rejoice that the hearts of a generous Christian people are expanding and enlarging to meet the demand.

GEO. C. ROWE.

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SHOTGUN IN LOUISIANA.

[The outrage referred to in the following letter was perpetrated only a few weeks ago. We suppress names and dates for obvious reasons. We know the writer and can vouch for the truth of the statement. We have in our possession additional and corroborative evidence.—Ed.]

“My very last days at school were saddened by a most distressing outrage in which the father and elder brother of one of my own good, manly, big boys, were shot down in unjust, merciless and indiscriminating slaughter; the other two grown-up sons obliged to flee; the mother, grandmother and two younger children left desolate but not unfriended, and the large, rich and heavy crop, which would have sufficed to send all the children to school next year, of necessity abandoned. That was the trouble: the white men around were jealous of his business methods, his prosperity and his determination to educate his children—said they were ‘getting too smart for niggers’—so, when an alleged crime by another colored man or boy furnished a pretext, they improved the opportunity for wholesale massacre—six or seven in all were killed, some of them resisting and killing two white men. I was amazed at the Christian meekness shown by my boy, the elder of the two who escaped, a large, strong young man. He spoke with gratitude of the two white men who tried to save his father, and he seemed disposed to leave the murderers entirely in the hands of the great Judge of all, saying, ‘If the Lord saw fit to punish them He could _meet up with them_ any time.’

“I said, with a view to learning how this severe tribulation had affected his trust in Christ—for he is but a young disciple—‘some people, when great trouble is permitted to come upon them, feel that the Lord has deserted them.’ He responded at once, ‘I don’t feel that way. I think the Lord must have been _very near_ me when I was dodging through the young corn, neither high enough nor thick enough to hide me in the bright morning light, and they all shooting at me as if I had been a deer, or they would certainly have killed me.’

“In answer to some remarks of mine, he said: ‘You needn’t be afraid of my taking to any meanness on account of this. I never can find it in my heart to be mean to anybody. I feel too sorry for people.’ His only anxiety was to find work and make enough to get the rest of his people away from there.

“When I went into my school room after hearing of this heart-rending affair, a horror of great darkness came over me for an instant, and a sound was in my ears as of a knell; then the students’ plaintive song seemed to vibrate through the air—How long, Master, how long? These distressful experiences weigh heavily on the hearts and nerves of our missionaries, who are here so nearly all the year around and have such a care for everything that affects the school or its members.”

A TEACHER.

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DEATH OF REV. WILLIS POLK.

Died, at his home in Fayetteville, Ark., after a lingering illness, Rev. Willis Polk, pastor of the Colored Congregational Church of that place. He came to Fayetteville in the fall of 1884, and took charge of the public school for the colored people; and up until the time he was disabled by sickness, he labored in the school-room during the week, and preached in the little church, which he had organized, on the Sabbath. His education and his gifts as a preacher were above the average of his race. He met death calmly and peacefully, and died in the blessed hope of a home in heaven. He was kindly nursed and provided for by the members of his little flock and others, during his long sickness, and his mortal remains were reverently laid in the tomb by the same kind hands. He leaves a wife and four small children to mourn his loss, and the little flock to which he ministered without a shepherd.

J. N.

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THE INDIANS.

Away up in the northern part of the Territory of Dakota, on the bank of the Missouri, live the Mandan Indians. They are a small tribe, numbering not quite 400, are peaceably inclined, and are somewhat ambitious. They have a tradition that “they came from under the earth, where they lived near a subterranean lake. They ascended by means of a grape vine, which a heavy woman broke, so that part of the tribe were left below.” They are lighter in color than many other tribes, and gray hair is often seen even among the young people. They live with the Arickarees and Gros Ventres, in a very friendly way, but are a distinct tribe by themselves, with their old chief at their head.

Little can be said in praise of their morals; they are far below the Sioux nation in this. Polygamy is very generally practiced, although the younger people are beginning to adopt the white man’s ways, and to give up this with others of their old customs.

They are doing quite well at agriculture, raising corn and wheat, and storing hay. The Government supplies all those who seem industrious with implements and machines for use in farming; and some of the men learn quickly their use and manipulation, so that the results of their labor would often do a white farmer credit. The great drawback to their success is their natural tendency to work awhile and then shirk awhile. They soon tire of steady employment, and form all kinds of excuses for absence. Like the Irish, they always have sick relatives who demand their attention at the most inopportune times. This is not more characteristic of the Mandans than of all Indians. The lack of discipline in their natures is a very great disadvantage, and is something that missionaries and agents have constantly to fight. Of course, for generations back the Indians have followed their own sweet wills, and have roamed the prairie and forest at pleasure, traveling when they wished to travel, and halting when they wished to halt, so that the idea of any necessity for steady toil day after day, is one that they grasp with difficulty. They must learn first that there is a to-morrow—a fact they have never realized. This accomplished, a long step ahead will be gained.

Little missionary work has been done among the Mandans in their own language, and few of them understanding other languages—even those of the Arickarees and Gros Ventres—it is little they can learn of the Christian’s God and religion. The fear of their own gods arouses them to sacrifice and worship, often of the most horrible kind, and even while they gaze with red, swollen eyes at the sun, in painful worship, there is a yearning in their hearts for better, higher things, and this it is that prompts their heathen prayers to all nature, through their ignorance of the one true source from which these better things can be.

While I have spoken of their ambitious attempts at agriculture as a tribe, there are still many among them who are idle. Young Indian men in the very prime of life, powerful, and abundantly able to labor with the strongest, spend their days sitting around the camp fires with the old men and the dogs, in among blackened kettles, and all the filthy paraphernalia of their lodges—sit, and smoke, and talk, and sleep. I asked, one day: “What are these people saying—what can they find to talk so much about?” “Oh,” said my Indian companion, “they talk of the old times—of their wars and their dances!” Sad enough was the picture!

Among these Mandan people, whom he calls his children, lives an old man—a chief. He stands somewhat between the wild Indian and the civilized. With yearnings after the civilization of which he has heard and known, he is yet tied to the old ways through the want of a teacher and guide. He is intelligent, and anxious for a different state of affairs among his people. Two sons had he of great promise. The elder went out to war against some hostile Indians, and died. It was a great blow to his father, who had looked to his sons for the deliverance of his people. The younger son was sent to the Normal School at Santee, to become educated, and to learn of the white man’s ways. He is still there at school, and his old father waits at home patiently, while the years of preparation go on. He sends occasional messages of encouragement to his son, and is doing all in his power to prepare himself and people for the work ahead. In order that he may conform to the customs his son is adopting, he has even had his long hair shorn, a year before the boy’s return, that it may please him to see his father as white men are. Long hair is to the Indian very much what the cue is to the Chinaman—he is slow to part with it.

A short time ago Santee students were engaged in writing letters to Eastern friends, and the old chiefs son, among the rest, wrote of his home, his people and his plans. He was trying to tell what I have told—the condition of his tribe, the lack of missionary work among them, and their inability to understand the teachers of the other tribes. As he wrote of this, and of his plan to go back to them as a teacher, his head dropped forward on his desk and the tears rolled down his cheeks as he realized the awful want of a starving nation—a nation crying out for the Gospel of Christ. Yet this was an Indian boy—was once a wild Indian, a savage! Why will not Christian people believe that the Indian is a _man_—is a man with a soul! Why are we all so slow to understand that the Indian has a heart and a mind!

Surely God remembers the Mandans. God himself believes in the Indian.

MRS. C. W. SHELTON.

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THE CHINESE.

FRUIT AT PETALUMA.

Our Petaluma mission has for several years been apparently barren. Its first years were by far its best ones. It would have been abandoned but for the faith and self-denying persistency of its excellent teacher, Mrs. M. H. Colby. Throwing off 50 per cent. of the meagre salary promised her when she entered upon the work; soliciting aid from friends in Petaluma; interesting, as far as possible, her pupils to contribute, she has made her mission the least expensive of them all; and she has hoped against hope that the promise would sooner or later be fulfilled, and her labor be not in vain in the Lord. Others grew discouraged. Chinese helpers sent to work with her came back to urge that the work be suspended. The hearts were too hard. The families or _clans_ represented in the Chinese population of Petaluma were too hostile one to another. There was too much gambling; there was too much opium. Even those who had attended the school for years, seemed no less averse to Christianity than those who had never entered the schoolroom door.

About three months ago the teacher was able to write me that she believed the ice was broken, and that three of her pupils were really asking after the true God and salvation. I had learned, however, by hard experience that the “heathen Chinee”—among other “tricks that are vain”—can play pious on occasions, and do it so well as to deceive the very elect. More than once have I been compelled, by the adverse reports of trustworthy Christian Chinese, to decline to baptise, or in any way to encourage in Christian profession, those whom American Sunday-school teachers had come to regard almost as model saints; and I feared that Mrs. Colby’s warm heart might have started hopes which a careful scrutiny would prove unfounded.

Accordingly I sent Jee Gam to visit these young men. He spent two Sabbaths with them. At another time Chin Kue, our faithful helper at Oakland, spent several days with them. The result of their inquiries brought joy to all our hearts. The new converts were found to be sincere, fervent, courageous and though sadly in need of instruction, yet earnestly desiring it. So they were organized into a branch of our Association of Christian Chinese, and were shown how to commence effective Christian work among their countrymen. Three weeks ago word came of another who seemed to be turning to Christ. His brethren were doubtful about him, but Mrs. Colby hoped quite strongly. This time Loo Quong, who has done so good service in an evangelistic way in our Northern missions, was asked to go and spend a Sabbath with them. His experience I give in something like his own idioms as he reported it to me. Speaking of this new convert he said: “Before I have chance to speak to him, the others told me that they had heard that he had been in the gambling places, but they were not sure about it. So my first question to him was this: ‘Do you wish to be a Christian?’ He said ‘Yes.’ ‘Have you been gambling before?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Don’t you know that gambling is wrong, and not fit for a Christian to do?’ ‘Yes, I found that out some time ago.’ So we went on, question and answer, till I found him truly sincere, and wanting to try to love the Saviour. So I made arrangements for him to be brought into the Association on Sunday evening. On Sunday morning five of us were going to the Congregational church. While we were passing through Chinatown some of our countrymen, about ten in number, standing by the doors of the Chinese shops began to make fun of us, calling us ‘_cabbages_.’ This means, in Chinese, a very dirty word, and at the same time, it has a sound very near to the word _Jesus_ in Chinese. After they had called us all by this name, they turned especially upon Wong Tim Ban (the young Christian) saying to him: ‘Come, have a smoke of opium before you go to church.’ ‘Come play cards with us once more.’ In all this he kept silent, and so did all of us. After church was dismissed we came back the same way, and they came out to meet us again. They called Wong Ban a very bad name. But he only smiled and returned them a very kind word, saying: ‘Yes, I am a Christian now, no matter what I had done before. I am going to be a better man and do not mind your laughing.’” So when evening came he was welcomed to the Association by the vote of all the members. And so _we_ stand rebuked for unbelief; and the faithful teacher’s perseverance is rewarded; and we take courage to work on though hearts are hard and for the time the field seems like unbroken fallow ground.

Those who remember my article of two months ago on _Imperium in imperio_, will be interested to know that the young Chinese maiden spoken of has been adopted into an excellent Christian family and is now at home with them in an Eastern State. It would not be wise perhaps to make a more definite publication of her whereabouts.

WM. C. POND.

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BUREAU OF WOMAN’S WORK.

MISS D. E. EMERSON, SECRETARY.

We call special attention to the fact that in connection with our Annual Meetings we always have a distinct presentation of our Woman’s Work by lady missionaries from the field. We take the liberty of suggesting that the various Ladies’ Missionary Societies that contribute to our work should make an effort to be represented at the approaching Annual Meeting in Portland. Conference collectors and church collectors for woman’s aid to the A. M. A. will find this meeting to be of special help in furnishing them with a wide and inspiring view of our great work. Let the ladies of Maine and the adjoining States have a large representation at the Portland meeting.

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The following, from a colored woman, shows what can be accomplished by a single missionary; also the great need of faithful Christian workers. Speaking of one of our missionaries, this colored woman says:

“Miss ———— was with us last Sabbath. If we could have her here for a while we could soon build up a work, and some of these poor erring children who are being led astray by the world and the other churches, which are no better than the world, would be reclaimed and put into the right way. I have been with her studying for six weeks, and have seen what a great work she is doing, and I long to have her saintly influence at this place. There are in this place about fifty or more young colored girls just coming to womanhood, and out of all you will not find three respectable ones. Drunkenness, gambling and licentiousness are so common that they are not looked upon as sin. The church and the world are hand in hand. The whites look on and smile. It is just as they wish it. They say the Negro cannot rise above these things; but I do know that this is false. I know that my people are as capable of leading pure and holy lives as the whites are, but we need pure-minded leaders—those who will put their whole heart and soul into the work, as this dear friend has done. The colored people have no truer friend than she.”

FROM A TEACHER.

_Dear Friends_: I would like to give you some facts which show the need of the continued work of the A. M. A.

Let us visit a school-house where a large congregation is gathered in and around the house. A dark man is preaching. Judging by the loudness of voice and furious gesticulations, and the groaning and fervent “Amens” of his hearers, he must be saying something very important. But hark! He declares that Jesus cursed. His text, as he read it and repeats it to prove his assertion, is: “I do _curse_ to-day and to-morrow,” etc.—Luke xiii, 32.

Another time we find the same man giving the history of the ten commandments, saying that God gave Moses one set of commandments and Moses went down and read them to the people. They said they were too hard, so Moses broke the stones and went back and told the Lord that his commands were too hard, so God gave him some easier ones.

Again, this minister is proving that Jesus was baptized by “mersion.” He says that when Jesus came up out of the water, he ran so fast to the wilderness that no one could keep up with him, but they tracked him by the water that dripped from his clothes. They tracked him in this way forty days before they found him.

Some of the people near that school-house are anxious for better instruction, and have applied to the Association for a minister.

Another school-house, two miles from one of the A. M. A., has been used for meetings held by a regularly licensed minister who does not know a letter. Some of his members say “his sermons beat the ’postle Paul,” and if noise and violent gestures count, probably they are right.

There are many such preachers as those I have told you of, but where the true light is brought by the American Missionary Association and other missions, they are driven out, or are coming to the light to prepare for better work.

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FOR THE CHILDREN.

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SANTEE AGENCY, NEB., June, 1887.

_To My Friends at the East:_

I want to write you a letter. First I want to tell you about my home and my people, how they are, and their ways. I suppose you know their old way of living, but let me tell you a part of it again. The general way is to dance, and give away ponies, and worship stones. They have “visions of the deer,” and think themselves sacred. They have foolish “visions of the bear,” and think themselves sacred. They do not go to war now. But when they used to go to war, they first tied up parcels of tobacco and took them around to the houses of the men they trusted in, and, opening the door of the house, they led out the brave man. Then the women appeared glad, and would dance and shout. So they did; and right away they would go off to war, and kill men, and bring home their scalps, or else the hands of the slain, tied to their horses.

But now the people do much better. Now, since the Word of God has been preached among my people, they do better. And still there are many who do not know anything. I have grown up but recently, and yet I know something. I have been several years at Santee Normal Training School, and have learned some things. Though I cannot talk English much yet, I understand some, and I wish to keep on learning as long as I can. And whether I learn or do not learn, I am always going to try.

And my father and mother are now believers in God. They now have understanding and knowledge. So that they have now sent my sister to school, and very soon I shall get letters from her, and I shall be glad.

And for myself, I wish to live having faith in God, and to learn all I can here.

Now, my friends, I have told you all about how it is with me; so I will say no more.

A. W.

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RECEIPTS FOR AUGUST, 1887.

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MAINE, $1,586.24.