Volume 41 — THE SOUTH.

NOTES IN THE SADDLE.

BY FIELD-SUPERINTENDENT C. J RYDER.

The Lincoln Memorial Church at Washington, D. C., are rejoicing in their remodeled building. Various branches of missionary work are carried on with increased vigor. The industrial training is now under the direction of the pastoress, Mrs. Moore, and is reaching a large number of women and girls. The outlook of this work at Washington was never so bright as now.

Dudley, N. C., is a smart little village, having in its entire population only four white families. The two saloons in the town, however, are kept by white men—a pretty sorrowful and disgraceful comment upon the white race. The County Superintendent of schools spoke in the highest praise of the A. M. A. school and church at Dudley. Congregationalism here, as elsewhere, is the synonym for intelligence and purity.

Wilmington is still saddened by the death of Rev. D. D. Dodge, for a long time the active pastor of the Congregational Church in that city. But the work goes on with continued prosperity.

A little nine-year-old daughter of the pastor of the A. M. A. church at Beaufort, N. C., has used her time so wisely between school hours that she sat down to the organ and played ordinary music readily. Can any other little A. M. A. girl no older show better use of her time? This little girl has had only a few weeks’ instruction in music.

No one who has not visited Charleston, S. C., can form any idea of the terrible results of that awful earthquake visitation. The citizens have accomplished wonders in repairing the ruins of their homes and churches and shops, but it will be months yet before the fearful desolation can be overcome. Poor Charleston, what with war and cyclones and earthquakes has she not suffered! Is it Divine punishment for her rash and fearful sins of the past? Who can say it is? Who dare say it is not? The Congregational Church was uninjured by the “quake.” Extensive repairs had just been made in the building, and the services of re-dedication came immediately after that night of earthquake horrors, and were very impressive. Many conversions have taken place since the re-opening of the church.

Avery Institute suffered seriously from the earthquake. Extensive and expensive repairs were made necessary before the school could be opened. These are now completed. I learned of some two hundred pupils who were waiting to enter Avery as soon as it should be opened.

At Savannah, Ga., I found a most delightful state of religious interest. More than a hundred have been hopefully converted during the few weeks just passed. Many interesting incidents have occurred. One young man, who has been rather a wild young fellow, became a Christian. He was at once anxious for his mother, who was not a Christian. One night she refused to come to evening service. The friend who went to invite her gave up in despair. But God did not give up. His spirit still strove with her, and she came into the church and took the very back seat. But she was the first to come forward when the invitation was given to those who desired prayers for themselves. She sat with bowed head a long time. Her son was there praying for her. There was no excitement. At last this mother, rising to her feet, walked across the house, and taking the preacher by the hand, said: “I will venture.” There was joy in many hearts. The mother and son are now praying that the aged grandmother may find her way into the fold of the Good Shepherd, even in her trembling old age.

McIntosh is also rejoicing in a spiritual harvest. Twenty-eight, all on confession of their faith, joined the A. M. A. church on the last communion Sabbath. Dorchester Academy is full, and more than full. The enrollment for January was 250, and sixty pupils had been turned away because there was no “room to receive them.” Miss Plimpton, with three young lady assistants, does this tremendous work with marvellous success. The pastor had been ill for a few Sabbaths, and the Sabbath duties fell upon these overworked and heroic women. As I looked into the schoolrooms, crowded to their very doors, hot and oppressive, it seemed to me that if anywhere on this continent the Master’s work is being done, it is right here at McIntosh, Ga. They are indeed Sisters of Mercy. A little girl in one of our schools was asked what the feminine of Friar was. She replied, “Fricassee.” In that hot school-room it seemed almost possible that these Protestant teachers might be unwillingly converted into female Friars, according to the little girl’s definition.

The teachers are reaching out in every direction. In a little tumbled down, or tumbling down, log cabin, Miss Robertson holds mission service every Sabbath. From seventy to ninety, mostly men and boys, gather to sing, hear God’s word read, and gather useful lessons from the wise and loving counsel of this earnest Christian soul. One hundred dollars are needed at once to put this cabin into such shape as shall make it suitable for these services.

In pushing out through the swamps that lie all round Dorchester, the teachers not infrequently see great, venomous snakes (water moccasins) tumble off the path before them into the water. And yet these are timid ladies, and shrink just as you do, gentle reader, from such monsters. They are there for Christ’s sake, and in His name they go forward.

Will not some earnest Christian at the North increase his contribution, so that the school facilities at Dorchester Academy may meet the demand another year, and so that the hearts of these Christian heroines may be comforted and cheered?

DEDICATION OF BALLARD BUILDING.

The first Sunday in this New Year was a memorable day with us at Tougaloo, having been looked forward to with eager expectancy for months—especially by the carpenter’s apprentices and other wood-working students, who, no doubt, next to Mr. Stephen Ballard himself, of New York, feel a sense of personal proprietorship and joyful interest in “Ballard school-house,” which was dedicated that day.

The new school-house is not only a monument to Mr. Ballard’s philanthropy, but also to the value and success of the mechanical training given here, as the work was almost entirely done by the students.

The day of dedication was the third of a succession of days unusually cold for us, and the air was full of snow-flakes, so that few of the expected guests from a distance made their appearance, and the extreme unpleasantness of the day kept most of even our near neighbors at home. However, besides the students and their immediate friends, we had as guests Miss Dickey, the honored head of Mt. Hermon Seminary at Clinton, with two of her assistants; Rev. J. B. Oliver, of the Congregational Church at Greenville, and Rev. C. L. Harris, of the Congregational Church at Jackson; also Mr. Moses Folsom, of Iowa, a representative of “The Burlington Hawkeye,” with a friend of his.

Probably none of the special days in the annals of the school have passed off with more unity and spontaneity of feeling, nor left a happier consciousness behind. The Sunday-school lesson had for its title “The Beginning,” and besides its regular and ordinary teachings, was specially and happily applied, and, at its close, ten persons were received into church membership. The regular dedicatory ceremonies and services took place in the afternoon and were good throughout. Rev. C. L. Harris, of Jackson, delivered the address. Always energetic and enthusiastic, and ready for whatever word or work his day and opportunity bring him, he gave us a really excellent address. He gave in the outset a sketch of the life of the Christian merchant who had considered himself the Lord’s steward of the funds required to build this school-house and the shops required for our trades. He then spoke at large upon the three-fold work to which this institution was dedicated,—the education of head, hand and heart, all tending to the firm and right establishment of the home and fitting for the widest usefulness.

The last thing in the service supplied an outlet for the manifestation of the loving and joyful interest with which the service had been participated in by the congregation, and was apparently at least as much enjoyed as any part of it, namely, the taking of a collection. The subscription, started with the thank-offering of Thanksgiving Day, for seating the new chapel, had reached $36.50. The collection at the dedication service brought it to $97.35, additional free-will offerings next morning making up the hundred. At this writing a beginning has been made on the remaining $66.25. About one-fourth of this has been given by our own students, and nearly one-half by the colored people connected with, or interested in, our school.

A sermon from Rev. J. B. Oliver in the evening closed the exercises of the day.

OUR SCHOOL OF OBSERVATION.

BY MISS ANNA M. CAHILL, FISK UNIVERSITY.

Sixty bright faces welcomed me as I took my place with other visitors, this afternoon, in the school-room of our practice school. These faces are the property of as many happy children—children with no more weight of years upon them than properly belongs to pupils in a primary school. As I looked down the rows of little seats on this my first visit for the year, I saw at once that many new pupils had taken their places in this company since the first of September, but some of the little folks have grown so familiar that I realize they are soon to “graduate” into the English department of the University. At least half a dozen of those before me are the children of parents, one or both of whom were pupils at Fisk at some time during the first ten years of its work. They come from comfortable and well-regulated homes in the city, as do the majority of those primary pupils.

The special occasion that drew us together to-day was the public exercise of the practice teachers who taught in the school during the fall term. Every member of the senior normal class spends six weeks, at some time during the year, in practice work, under the direction and criticism of the principal of the school. To-day each of the four teachers taught three classes ten minutes apiece, and in the two hours thus occupied, not only the regulation studies, reading and number, were presented, but very interesting lessons were taught in elementary grammar, geography of Tennessee, form, color and physiology. When the bright sunlight gave its aid by flashing through a prism the rainbow colors on the wall, the little people were quick to tell how these colors might be combined and others formed; and when to the physiology class there were shown the heart, lungs and liver of a sheep, they gathered with so much interest around their young teacher that spectators and school were forgotten in their childish eagerness to ask and answer questions.

In one of the motion-songs that varied the exercises of the afternoon, these little people sang of the shoemaker, “All he wants is his elbow room,” and as I came away impressed with a sense of the power developing in that school-room and thought of the future of its pupils, I said gladly to myself, “All they want is their elbow room.”

These public exercises are held semi-annually, in order that all members of the normal class may have opportunity to show the result of their practice work.

CHARLESTON, S. C.

A young man who recently united with our church on profession of faith, in his first prayer at the Wednesday night prayer meeting, said: “Help us young men to pray a little faster and a little better, for you know how slow and imperfect we are. We cannot help ourselves. You are our only help. Lead us in the way that we should go, and help us to withstand the temptations which come every day.” It is the same idea which St. Paul gives us when he says: “Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect, but I follow after.” “A little faster and a little better.” What a lesson for Christians generally. If we all would be a little faster in doing good, in giving to aid in this work of raising up fallen humanity, there would be no need of constant appeal from the treasury department of the A. M. A. and the other great missionary organizations, and if Christians would pray a little better, that is, with more earnest desire for a literal answer to their prayers, His Kingdom would speedily come in the hearts of men. His will would be more generally done “on earth, as it is in Heaven.”

VOLCANO AND TIDAL WAVE.

A good sister recently came into the parsonage very much exercised in mind. After a while she said: “Well, it’s just as I expected. One of them things has broke out in Summerville.” We asked: “What is it? The smallpox?” “No.” “The cholera?” “No.” “A riot?” “No. Not any disease or anything like that. It is one of them things. I think they call it a volcano, or something like a tidal wave, you know.”

There is nothing new under the sun, says the wise man, but I hardly think he saw in his day and generation—a volcano—something like a tidal wave! And yet the idea is a good one, typical, I think, of the American Missionary Association, which, years ago, began in a humble way to pour forth—not fire and smoke and ashes—although the outcome of its work was fire and smoke and ashes to false opinion and wrong. Like a volcano, it sent forth material which moulded itself into the public sentiment of years ago, and since, like a tidal wave, this sentiment has continued to sweep over the continent until all the nationalities represented in this country are beginning to recognize the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man. Geo. C. Rowe.

CUMBERLAND MOUNTAINS.

BY REV. B. DODGE, PLEASANT HILL, TENN.

What have you done? This is a fair question for friends of this mission, North, West and East, to ask. I propose briefly to answer it. I left my pastorate in the “Pine Tree” State, and, with my wife and daughter, entered upon the work here October 1st, 1884. To leave a New England home for these mountain wilds is much like entering a new world. But, coming not to play, but work, duty said: “Look about you—East, West, North and South.” It was done, and the outlook showed a large amount of illiteracy in every neighborhood, many living so far away from school as to be totally beyond their reach, and many young people growing up with no knowledge of books.

What could be done? More impressively the answer came than I can tell it: Build a house for school and worship which may bless present and future generations. But, from a human standpoint, to erect such a building as was needed seemed extremely difficult, if not impossible, with limited means on every side, no market, no railroad, and 2,000 feet above the sea level. But, being used to hard work from early life, and not easily scared, I grappled with the idea of building a house for the double purpose named. I laid the matter before the A. M. A., and was by them requested to undertake the building of such a house as, in my judgment, was needed.

I began the work March 1st, 1885. A good lady donated five acres of land (a lovely spot) for church and school purposes, and deeded the lot to the A. M. A., and also contributed $50 to the building. I then headed a subscription paper with $50, and the people here added enough by timber and labor to make in all $300.

I then employed a man to put in a good foundation of split stone, laid in masonry and elevated twenty inches above the ground, the size of the building to be 50×47 feet, including tower.

What next? It was to hew a white oak frame in the forest and haul it to the building spot, then have it framed. At length I invited men to raise it, and women to bring a dinner.

When gathered we sought, with uncovered heads under the blue sky, the blessings of heaven on the future of the house and freedom from accident during its erection.

At 11 A. M. the school, marshalled by its worthy teacher, Mrs. Lord, came and marched around the walls and waiting timber with songs of greeting, and when the song ended, the men responded with three lusty cheers for the school. At sunset the frame stood on its solid base.

There stood the bones, but where was the flesh? I took my men, and, with axes and saws, we went to the forest to fell the trees for logs; but when a few were sawed the mill failed. Must we give it up? Not yet. In the saddle I went down the mountain to Lost Creek, sixteen miles, and to Sparta, seventeen, for lumber. Through much hardship it was hauled, it taking two days for a good team to make one trip, and sometimes getting a thorough soaking in a storm by a night camp-fire. Some forty loads were dragged up the steep mountain and on to Pleasant Hill. This coming up the Cumberland Mountains with a load means much more than a stranger can comprehend. When it takes three hours to go two miles we may suppose there is some pulling. You can find some hills in Western Massachusetts and in Maine, but they are mole mounds as compared with the brow of these mountains. But the men who had the hauling in charge were patient and faithful to the last.

The work went slowly on for lack of funds. Twice it stopped, and no sound of saw or hammer was heard. Some prophesied it would take seven years to complete the building. Troubled dreams and wakefulness came, and sleep said, “If you don’t go on with the work I will not come to you.” I then said to the carpenter: “Come Monday morning, and I will be responsible for your pay.” He came, and Monday’s mail brought me $6 from the Sunday-school in Edgecomb, Me. I paid the carpenter Saturday night, and said, “Come again.” He came, and Monday’s mail at 11 A. M. brought $7 from the Sunday-school in East Orrington, Me. Rebuked for my lack of faith, I said, “Come again,” and the third Monday at 11 A. M. brought $25 from that noble man, Hon. J. J. H. Gregory, of Marblehead, Mass., who always sells honest seed, and has also recently sent us a fine bell and paid the freight on it.

Slowly the building grew, till, by much tug and toil, where markets and railroads were far away, and even money absent, to-day the house stands finished.

The last thing, the furnishing, is being done. So we are planning to christen it with services there next Sabbath, and on Monday enter it with our growing and promising school, which, ere long, if friends stand firm to its interests, is to be one of the bright lights in the State of Tennessee.

So much for the new house on the Cumberland Mountains.

HOW HAS IT BEEN DONE?

“Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it.”

It is the Lord’s work, through his dear children. He has awakened in the hearts of Christian men, women, young people, and even little children, an interest in this work, so that, by closest attention and careful application of funds, God has enabled me to engineer the work till I can see that He means the house shall stand complete, without so much as a nickel of debt upon it.

We have also organized a Congregational Church, and have in connection with our work another church at Pomona, and Sabbath-schools in all three.

I preach twice each Sabbath, riding twelve miles in the saddle. With increasing faith in God and this mountain work, which demands much grace and not a little grit, I ask the prayers of those who pray.