The South

Out To Rockhold, Ky.

Prof. R.C. Hitchcock

I wanted to see the people and especially the church and Sunday-school at this outpost. Now one can go out there by rail, but that is prosaic. It is not apostolic; those apostles tied on their sandals, girt up their garments and walked. But I found I couldn't do that way, for there was the big Cumberland to cross and several creeks, not to speak of "runs," "branches" and mud-holes. The circuit riders? Yes, they went on horseback; that must be my way, so I consulted Brother Tupper and he borrowed Mr. Perkins's horse, noted as being an easy-going roadster. Easy? Well, I do suppose the horse was all right, but I must indulge in one groan. It was a long time since I had been on horseback. I wanted to go to the stable to get on, but the young man insisted on bringing the steed down to the hotel as soon as he had his feed, and in due time he came, a tall fellow, and I doubted my ability to get my foot up to that stirrup, and somewhat whether I could boost myself over into the saddle if I did; so I quietly and gently coaxed him up to the piazza and actually succeeded the first time trying. How many of the gentlemen, sitting in their Sunday best on the piazza, smiled, I do not know—I didn't dare to look. I know I sat up ever so stiff and tried to look just as if I had been a circuit rider for forty years or so.

I must cross the river to begin with. Now they hadn't given me any whip and I didn't dare ask the owner of the horse—"Colt, gone four"—he said, for a whip or even a switch, but I wondered what I would do if the animal should take it into his head to turn around or do something awkward right in the middle of the river. I didn't want to get off, for I must get on again. As good luck would have it there was a kind-eyed man sitting on a stone by the riverside, and I asked him to get me a stick. He gave me one he had in his hand and I felt better.

"Does the ford go right straight across?" I asked. "No, you must make a curve up towards the dam or you will get into deep water, and there are boulders too, you must avoid, or your horse may fall down."

A curve! Now a straight line, two points being given, can be defined. And if I could steer for some given point on the opposite bank, I could hit it if the current did not take me down stream; but a curve is awfully uncertain, and my mind was in a state of perturbation. However, I got across with nothing worse than a good spattering.

I wish I could paint the pictures constantly opening on the view as I rode along. Forest clad mountains rose on every side with huge cliffs peering grimly out. Sometimes these cliffs overhung the road and occasionally a great slab of slate projected sufficiently to furnish shelter for a family. In one place a farmer had taken advantage of this and made his stable under a rock. A great slab of shaly slate projected so that he had a roof some fifty feet long and ten or fifteen wide. My mind went back eighteen hundred years and more to another stable in a rock and the wonderful scene enacted there. It was not easy to believe that the little cabins, looking like miniature houses which might be built by boys for play, were actually homes, occupied by families, father, mother and eight or ten children; but such is the case.

Seven miles of constantly changing pictures, but all beautiful, brought me to Rockhold, a name I had supposed derived from its physical characteristics, but which I was informed was given in respect to a family formerly the most important in the vicinity but now quite gone. I made my way to the little church. In front was a huge wagon and in a little grove at the back several horses tied. I had been informed that I might safely address any man I found prominent, as "Elliott," and as I entered I so accosted an elderly man whom I found in charge of a large class of young men. About fifty were present, Mr. Elliott being the only male teacher, three young ladies, two of whom I learned had been educated at Berea, having charge of classes. After the lesson I addressed the people. The characteristic that impresses me more than any other is their solemn seriousness. They listen intently and with great eagerness. They are hungry for preaching and feel it a great hardship that they can only have it occasionally. Their faces were a study. There was hardly a weak one among them and many bore the impress of great strength. But I would as soon have told a story or joked at a funeral as under their serious eyes.

The meeting over, several invited me to "go by" and take dinner, and I accepted the first offer, which was made by a nice looking young lady in mourning, who urged her claim by saying: "All the preachers go to our house and father will be so disappointed if he don't see you; he couldn't come to-day."

This country has not yet got to the point of thinking bridges necessary and roads are not for those who sit on springs and cushions. I never wished so much for a "Kodak" that I might carry away a picture which I shall always have in memory. To the long wagon, which had a high rack all around it, were yoked a pair of milk-white oxen, round and handsome. In front was seated Mrs. Elliott, holding her youngest child. At her side a boy, perhaps twelve, who guided the team by a line attached to a horn. Seated on chairs were nine young ladies and girls, nearly all in pretty white dresses.

Two miles of beautiful scenery and we reach the farm house, a commodious and substantial rural home, of John Elliott, who gave me a cordial welcome and soon the long table in the kitchen was spread with such a meal as I had not enjoyed in many a day. The menu did not record many French dishes, but everything was good, abundant and wholesome.

After dinner, Mr. Elliott told me a story worth recording. It was that of the heroic Mr. Richardson, who before the war was a teacher in that district—a Northern man—and, in the excited state of feeling in the South, was suspected of being an abolitionist. He and his wife were driven from their home and work, but protected from personal violence by the prompt and energetic efforts of the Elliotts. But as both Dr. Roy and Mr. Ryder have given the details to the public, I will not repeat them here. I will only add that of the fifty persons who had signed the paper pledging themselves to "remove" Richardson, it would be difficult to find one now in Whittley County. They are scattered or dead. But in the little church at Rockhold, the name of Richardson is a sacred one, and the stranger always hears the story.

I took leave of this interesting family with great regret. As I sat in the little grove in front of the house, with its carpet of myrtle, and looked off over the peaceful valley, I wished I might remain there and rest.

That horse had it pretty much his own way on the return seven miles, and when I thought nobody was looking I must confess to finding it a very pleasant thing to get both legs on the same side of the saddle. But I am glad I went to Rockhold. I would not lose the pictures I got there for a small sum and I hope and pray that the time may soon come when in some way a regular preacher may be provided for the people.

Church Work.

Dedication Of A Church At Byron, Ga.

Words fail to express the pleasant time we had at Byron, in dedicating our new house of worship to the service of God. We had a very large attendance of people from Bibb, Houston, Taylor and Sumter counties. Nearly two hundred people came from Andersonville, a large number came from Macon and quite a company from Rutland. One brother was present from the Savannah church. Altogether there were five of our Congregational churches represented by their members and several others were heard from. I should think that there were nearly, if not quite, four hundred people on the grounds. Of course the building could not hold them all. Rev. J.R. McLean preached the sermon, which was pronounced by a leading white man present, to be the best he ever heard. Altogether the occasion was an inspiring one. The hundreds of black faces so attentively listening to the words of truth, so orderly and quietly, could not fail to impress us deeply. The occasion was one that brought four of our churches into a very close relationship, closer than they have ever been before; I mean, so many from each church meeting face to face and forming each other's acquaintance.

It is our wish and prayer to do well the work that is committed to our hands. We are not afraid of hard work, we want time and means to do all that we see is needed, and there is so much to be done. I feel like going, going all the time with the message of God's love to dying men. The opportunities are constantly increasing for usefulness.

Promising Opening In Georgia.

I came to the place where the people wanted a Sunday-school. They were ready for it, with a rude building erected by the people themselves, and waiting for me to begin work, and I have promised to organize a Sunday-school on the second Sunday of next month. A young married woman, the wife of a well-to-do farmer, and a former student in the Ballard School, has promised to superintend it. She expects at least fifty scholars, many of them her day pupils. I have given her singing books and shall send to Boston for Sunday-school supplies. There is reason to believe that we can some day organize a church in that place. I preached in the new building last night and at the close of the service nearly twenty-five bowed for prayers and asked for mercy. It was really affecting and I only regretted that I could not remain and continue the work which begins in so promising a manner. I have not the time to describe in detail the work done on this trip. All along the road for nearly forty miles people stopped me and I them to talk about the love of God for man and the gift of his dear son as their Saviour and Redeemer. My heart burns with a desire to do them good and I am so happy in helping them see the truth as it is revealed in the Bible. There are hundreds of colored people in that county who have no proper religious instruction. They come from far and near whenever I go into that region, and seem to be blessed in listening to the word of God. I am constantly, from a half-dozen different counties, hearing the Macedonian cry: "Come over and help us." I wish you could go with me and see these golden opportunities. If our churches saw the needs and the openings for doing good, they would increase many fold their offerings to this work.

Encouraging Indications.

I can see a manifestation of real earnestness on the part of a larger proportion of the members of our church than at any time before since I have been here. While none of our meetings are attended so well as they should be, at the same time they are spiritual. And now, as we are getting our minds and hearts ready for some extra meetings, our prayer meetings are full of tenderness and sweetness. Last Thursday night, though it was raining at the meeting hour, a goodly number came out and the blessed Lord was with us. Our subject was "The Christian dignity of labor." It seemed to be a new truth when they could see from his own word that Jesus was interested in our daily work, John 21: 3-6. One faithful sister who is trying to educate and provide for six children was very much helped by the fact that Jesus would guide her if she was only willing to follow his direction. The prayer meeting is the life of the church.

I spent two days with Brother S—— at B—— last month, in some extra meetings. The meetings were quite well attended; a goodly number of white people were with us at almost every meeting. The Methodist minister of the town was present and offered prayer. He expressed himself as highly pleased with the sermon and hoped that we might do much good in the name of the Lord. I find the very best of feeling towards our church there on the part of the white people. I hope the church will do well and grow in numbers and influence.

JACKSON ST. CHURCH, NASHVILLE, TENN.—Yesterday was a red-letter day for Jackson Street Church. It was communion day. Two were baptized and admitted to the church. Our congregation numbered more than one hundred, the largest audience we have yet had. It was also the day for special collection. We collected thirteen dollars. This was done by means of the envelope system without any blast of bugle. There were eleven conversions in the Sunday-school recently.

HOWARD CHAPEL, NASHVILLE, TENN.—Our attendance this month has never fallen below forty-five. One of the established churches of the city with a membership five times as large as ours has an average of ten to its prayer meetings. We have fifteen or twenty. We have also organized a Y.P.S.C.E. and a Bible class. It is the purpose of this class to study Biblical biographies. We have studied so far the lives of Joseph, Moses, Daniel, Esther, Ruth and David. It would do your heart good to see with what enthusiasm the young people have entered upon this study and how they master even the minutest details. I have every hope in the world for Howard Chapel.

SAVANNAH, GA.—Some years ago our flock was the smallest, now we have the largest Sunday-school and congregation. The history of this church is wonderful. God has been merciful towards it. Some who were our strongest enemies years ago are now our best workers. I have a plan for next winter, to open a night school and draw the young people from sin and Satan to our blessed Lord. July the 18th, Brother L. and myself went to Porter's and made a start on our meeting house. The man who gave the land cut down trees, Brother L. dug holes and we planted the posts. Brother L. went back and bought five hundred feet of lumber, and with God's help we intend to take the train some day and finish our humble place of worship.

NORTH ATHENS, TENN.—The church members gather with the children every Friday afternoon to teach both boys and girls various kinds of work. Capitalists and speculators are searching among the mountains for coal, iron and timber. Why should not the Christian church search out the poor mountaineers and bring them to Christ. Most of them were loyal to the country. Slavery has for several generations denied them the advantages of education. God has opened the door and bids us go in with the Bible and the spelling-book to give to two millions of these people in our own country a better culture, a purer Gospel. There are vast stores of wealth in these mountains, but nothing of such value as the souls of this people.

Straight University.

We are glad to copy from the Burlington (Vt.) Daily Free Press the following commendation of two of the appointees of this Association, both graduates of the University of Vermont. Mr. Atwood enters our service for the first time; Mr. Henderson has already shown his efficiency in our work as a preacher, and will enter upon his duties as a Professor under favorable auspices.

An eminently satisfactory and well-merited appointment is that of Mr. Oscar Atwood of Jeffersonville, to be President of Straight University in New Orleans. We can heartily congratulate the institution that it can avail itself of the sound scholarship, the long experience, and the tried executive ability of its president-elect. And no less do we congratulate Mr. Atwood on his election to a post which will afford ample scope and stimulus for the best that is in him. Straight University was founded twenty-one years ago, and was designed especially for the education of the colored youth. It is under the patronage of the American Missionary Association, and has several departments in full operation. Mr. Atwood took his A.B. degree at the University of Vermont in 1864; taught for a time in various schools, including the academy at Essex, this State; for two years was principal of the school at Underhill; then for seven years, 1871-78, was master of the High School at Plattsburgh, from which place he was called to a similar position at Rutland. After nine years successful labor there, he was forced to resign three years since on account of continued trouble with his eyes. He has an excellent record both as instructor and organizer and manager of school work. No better evidence of his efficiency could be desired than the large number of young men who have been stimulated by him to obtain a liberal education.

We learn also that the Rev. George W. Henderson, of the class of 1887, U.V., who for the last two years has been preaching in New Orleans, has been appointed to a professorship in the same institution. Mr. Henderson was originally a slave, as some of our readers know. He was prepared for college by Mr. Atwood, took high rank at the University and at Yale Theological Seminary, where he was graduated in 1883. He studied for a time in Germany, and for a few years was principal of an academy in this State. His work, we understand, is to be in the theological department, a position for which he is well equipped.

Better Class Of Students.

By Prof. R.C. Hitchcock.

Last year was a "golden year" at Straight University in New Orleans. In the first place, it is seldom the good fortune of any school to get a corps of teachers so uniformly capable, and of such earnest Christian spirit, willing to spend and be spent in the Master's service.

Then every year brings a better class of students; not more sincere, perhaps, but year by year they learn what "getting an education" means. A few years ago it was quite impossible to make them realize that steady, uninterrupted attendance was absolutely necessary to good work, but as they have opportunity to compare the positions taken and the work done by those who were regular and who remained at school long enough to be really fit for good service, with those who thought they could come in January and leave in April, getting an imperfect knowledge of things, to their credit be it told, they learn—some cannot learn life's lessons—and there has been lately a gratifying eagerness to be present at every recitation during the whole year. I do not think one has left this year who could possibly remain. When the floods came and many of them learned that their homes were under water, in some cases the savings of many years in buildings and stock washed away, they came to us saying they must go as they could no longer pay, but we told them to wait. White-winged missives flew over Uncle Sam's postal way, and back from many a church and Sunday-school came the needed aid, and—save in the case of some young men who had to care for helpless ones at home—none left. From these last came many an interesting story of the heroic efforts to save life and property. The skill to wield tools, acquired in our shop, helped many a one to build a "flat" in which family, stock and furniture could be floated to dry land. Many had to work night and day up to the waist, sometimes to the neck, in water to save what might be. It will be a hard year, the coming one, for many in the parishes of this State, though no doubt work will be plenty as soon as the water is down.

Temperance In Tennessee.

This is certainly a very interesting field, not going backward but forward. The temperance reform has made a clean sweep of the whole village, and in union with the Woman's Christian Temperance Union at the station is fast pushing the saloons to the wall. The most striking feature of the case is that they have learned how to work in the absence of their leader. Two weeks ago last Sabbath night they held their own meeting—a Bible reading institution among themselves, by the way, at which many were present—and the old revival spirit broke out afresh to such a degree that the last of their friends, to the number of eighteen, who still clung to their cups, made haste to sign the pledge of total abstinence.

Items.

Letter From A Graduate Of Straight University.

There was an examination held in this city recently for clerkships at Washington. The announcement of it in the newspapers and the certainty of the successful applicants receiving appointments drew a large number of young men to the examination, among whom were Tulane University graduates and several principals of high schools. I had the honor of sustaining the reputation of "Old Straight," by leading the list. The affair created much local excitement and the name of Straight University is commanding much respect. I am pleased at the prospect of the increased opportunities a residence at Washington will afford me for the prosecution of my medical studies.

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Fisk University is well represented in the journalistic world, says the Tennessee Star. The following graduates are pushing the quill: S.A. McElwee and W.A. Crosthwait, editors of the Nashville Tribune; H.C Gray, editor of the Galveston Test; R.S. Holloway, associate editor of the Dallas Tribune, and Geo. T. Robinson, editor of the Star.

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We print this letter from a boy who wants to go to school. We give it just as he wrote it, and hope to have the privilege of printing a letter from him five years hence with a view to the contrast.

Augst 25th.

Mr. Proseser D.:

Der ser i hav bin in form of the —— coldge and is it quite a distant and i thout i would rite you afew lines i want you to write to me how i can get Bord and what it will cost me a week or a munth and what is tuisson I want to noe before i come and i want to start in a short time rite to me all about it i will ickspeck anser soon, and Adress me.

When I start in I want to goe 2 sesson's before I stop i think can conplet most of inlesh studys in that time.

Does The Lord Understand His Business?

Rev. J.H.H. Sengstacke.

THEN.

All through the early spring I heard complaints as follows: "The season is against us and we shall not make anything." "Unless a change we must starve." The season paid no attention to complaints but kept right on.

Now.

To-day God has blessed all with a good crop; plenty to eat and plenty to sell. What next? The grumbling still continues. "There is so much that we cannot get a high price for our produce."

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If "resemble" means like, as one of the girls found when consulting the dictionary, why is it not proper to say as she did, "I 'resemble' very much to be at home?"

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Letters From Very Little Pupils.

My dear teacher:—I would like to have grace and truth before God, and I hope I am now his little girl.—LUCY.

Dear teacher:—I want religion.—ARTELIA.

My dear teacher:—If I had my choice of anything I wanted, I would choose a Christian life, so when I came to die I would die in Jesus, like Daisy Holt died.—ROXY.

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Pictures In The Pines.

Prof. Amos W. Farnham.

In the Sunny South, in the Land of Pines,

Is a whitewashed cottage, old and grand;

Its ample grounds of jessamine vines,

Are bright with crystals of sparkling sand.

Broad stairways lead to its airy hall

And cool piazzas, where the sun

His shining arrows ne'er lets fall

Till his daily race is almost run.

Within are walls of panels high,

And great fire-places that laugh at night,

When the blazing splinters of lightwood fry

And wrap the rooms in a flood of light.

'Tis then the cabins in the rear,

Low and little and plain and old,

Are vocal with the Negro'a cheer,

For his heart is light when the day is told.

But there's one who sits from the rest apart,

With folded hands and turbaned head,

With a nameless burden upon her heart,

And the light of youth forever fled.

And she sits a swaying to and fro,

Like the billowy pine with plume and cone,

While a minor strain subdued and slow,

She sings in a plaintive monotone:

("I'm mos' don' a trablin' an' I boun'

To carry my sould to Jesus

I'm mos' don' a trablin' an' I boun'

To carry my sould to de Lord.")

Then 'neath the whitewashed cottage vines,

From its window that looks on the dying day,

I gaze at the pictures in the pines,

Made by their plumes and cones of gray.

'Mong the leafy pictures is a crown,

Bedecked with a brightly shining star,

By angel hands held out and down

From the western gate that stands ajar.

My crown is bright when the year is new,

Nor changes, when its frosts appear:

For the star still shines in its ground of blue,

And the pine tree lives when the rest are sere.

From the pine my thoughts ascend above

To the Tree of LIfe that Heaven adorns;

From the star to the Star of my Saviour's Love,

That grandly shone in a crown of thorns.

Oh, Star of Love, thy beams shall guide

Me through the shadows of earth and sin,

Till Heaven's gate shall open wide

To let thy weary follower in.

I note the onward march of time

By the Negro's songs and the lightwood's glare,

And know I'm nearing the happy clime

And the starry crown that I shall wear.