Review of September, which treats very suggestively and helpfully on the preacher's voice. A FACT. This day, in conversation with a visiting minister, we asked him why it was that his church, planted in close neighborhood with a theological seminary, gave so small a sum to the Board of Education. He said that it was because the session and people observed that some of the students at the seminary, under care of the Board, used to bacco, and they were unwilling to squander money for such uses. For the honor and credit of the cause which aids in sustaining them, we beg, entreat, urge all such students to sacrifice such indulgence and not diminish the resources which are needed to help others by such self-indulgence. We commend to them to prepare and preach to themselves a sermon on the texts Rom. 14: 21 and 1 Cor. 8:13. NOTICE. Churches and ministers are hereby reminded that October is the month appointed by the General Assembly for taking up collections in behalf of the Board of Education. Applications for aid are already coming in plentifully, but the contributions thus far have been disproportionately few, though generally larger in amount. To help in presenting the cause, circulars, cards and envelopes are on hand for distribution, which can be had by sending for them. The scantiness of funds in the treasury and the uncancelled debt of last year have constrained the Board to reduce the scholarships and to decline some worthy recommendations of special cases. Such declinations inflict a loss on the church. We cannot afford them. In The conversation to which allusion is made above was in the editorial room of THE CHURCH AT HOME AND ABROAD. our August number the secretary of the Board of Education published extracts from "a letter regularly sent to all candidates under the care of the Board," earnestly dissuading from the use of tobacco for clear and cogent reasons. Every recipient of funds from the treasury of this Board has that advice of the Board before him, and knows that any disregard of it scandalizes not a few of those from whom, sometimes at the cost of touching self-denial, those funds are sent to the treasury. These donors do not take upon them to censure or judge those who think it right to use tobacco at their own expense, but they assert their own unquestioned right to reserve their own money for what they deem better uses. Until such donors can be assured that money will not be thus misused, the secre tary will find the force of all his laments for "scanty funds" lamentably weakened. Has the Board no authority in this matter? Let us not be misunderstood. The Board is not asked to censure men who see fit to use tobacco at their own expense. They are only asked to assure people whom they entreat to give money for the unquestionable needs of students for the ministry that their gifts will be used to supply such needs, and that none of it will be wasted upon a ques tionable luxury. FREEDMEN. EAST TENNESSEE. REV. H. N. PAYNE, FIELD SECRETARY. The ride from Atlanta to Chattanooga via the Western and Atlantic Railroad is over historic ground. From every rod of this one hundred and forty miles of railroad could have been heard the rattle of musketry and roar of cannon at some time during that famous fourmonths campaign that terminated with the capture of Atlanta, September 2, 1864. Over this track, and on either side of it, were fought some of the fiercest battles of the war. The signs of that great conflict are now almost obliterated. Cotton and grain now grow luxuriantly on the soil once reddened with the blood of heroes. As I stood on the summit of Lookout Mountain at Chattanooga, and looked off over the beautiful valley of the Tennessee to Missionary Ridge, it would have been difficult to realize that hostile armies so lately contended there for supremacy had it not been for the museum of war relics near by, and had it not been that a gentleman who stood at my side pointed out the place where he, as a member of "Fighting Joe Hooker's" command, climbed the precipitous side of the mountain to "the battle above the clouds." To one whose recent travels in the South had been over the monotonous and often dreary stretches of the Atlantic states, the scenery of east Tennessee was a surprise and a delight. The elevated, rolling, fertile lands are susceptible of a high degree of cultivation. The grains, grapes and stock growing along the route indicate a good degree of prosperity, while the pure, clear air, and the distant mountain peaks rising high up into the blue empyrean, account for the sturdy independence and love of liberty that have always characterized the inhabitants. One of the first things to impress me in east Tennessee was the strength of our church among the whites. Through Virginia, the Carolinas and Georgia, there are numerous white Presbyterian churches; but, except in a few instances in northern Virginia, their connection is with the Southern Assembly. It was quite a refreshing as well as novel experience to find in Chattanooga, Knoxville, Maryville and elsewhere, influential churches connected with our own Assembly. I was unfortunate in not finding some of the pastors at home, but the very presence of these healthy organizations upon the field seems to guarantee a practical sympathy with the work of our church among the freedmen. That this feeling is had by some of these brethren I had the best of reason to know. Sometimes, by reason of their environment, their faith and loyalty have been terribly tried; but they do not, on account of past loyalty and devotion, excuse themselves from the obligations of present duty. They feel that all Christians should be concerned for the elevation and salvation of the freed people; and that a special obligation rests upon them to further the work which the Freedmen's Board is carrying on in the midst of them. At Knoxville we have quite a strong colored church with a good building. The present minister, Rev. J. C. Lawrence, has been in charge less than two years, but is doing his best to make a success of this important work. Rev. H. B. Wilson, a young, strong and energetic man, a graduate of Allegheny Seminary, has been doing heavy work in the care of four churches, grouped about Knoxville. Rev. L. A. Roberts was given charge of one of these, and the whole work will be advantaged by the readjustment. At Jonesboro', one hundred miles beyond Knoxville, I found Rev. J. M. Hall, a graduate of Maryville College, in charge of two country churches, to one of which, five miles out, he walked every day last winter when teaching the parochial school. ** On a branch railroad eighty miles distant is Rogersville, where Rev. W. H. Franklin, a graduate of Lane Seminary, is doing a fine work and laying the foundations for a large school in that destitute region. Of this I may have more to say at another time. The im pression made by these ministers educated at such widely-severed institutions is that at any one of the theological seminaries of our church a properly-qualified colored man will find a cordial welcome, as well as faithful and wise instruction. Our work ought to be greatly enlarged in east Tennessee. The colored population is not so large as in some other parts of the South, but it is industrious, frugal, intelligent and self-respecting to an unusual degree. There is a fine field for a colored Presbyterian church in Chattanooga. Members of our church have gone there from other places because of the abundance of work. They will be lost to us unless soon gathered in. If a shepherd and a fold were awaiting them on arrival, they would naturally seek their protection and care. There are other prominent and promising points in this and in other sections in which a Presbyterian element can be found. They learned to love the Presbyterian Church before the war, when, as slaves, they listened to its teachings in the plantation meeting or country church. They would now welcome Presbyterian churches of their own color. Shall we look these people up? Shall we gather and organize them? Such an enlargement of our work, desirable as it is, will require increased expenditure. Will God's stewards in the church furnish us the means? ATLANTA, GA. THE KIND OF GIRLS WE ARE EDUCATING. One of our schools, of growing importance, is Ingleside Seminary, at Amelia Court-House, Va. Soon after the close of the school last spring, I said to one of the girls, "Are you coming back next year?" "Yes, indeed," was her reply; "I shall if it is possible. I am very anxious to get an education. In two years more, if I keep on, I shall graduate. I do hope I can complete the course." 66 "What shall do this summer?" you "Oh, I must earn some money to pay my way in school." "How will you do this?" "Well, I presume I shall have to do my old work, as I have no one to get a school for me, and I fear I cannot get one." "What was your old work?" "Won't that be pretty hard for you now?" "Yes, it will be hard, especially as I have been in school all the year past. But I don't care if the sun heat don't make me sick [she lives at Ridgeway, S. C.]. I would do any work, however hard, rather than not go on with school." This Christian young woman of perhaps seventeen years of age, quiet, modest, ladylike, refined in her manners and feelings, would hoe cotton in the field, under a blazing southern sun, rather than have her hope and aspiration to get an education defeated. Later in the season, I saw at their home in western North Carolina two sisters who had just graduated, one from the normal and the other from the higher course in Scotia Seminary. Their father is an elder in our church, and a man of some means. In answer to the question, What will your daughters now do? he said, "Next winter they both expect to teach school. But this summer there will be nothing of that kind for them to do, and they will help me on the farm." These two educated, Christian young women were fitted for higher work than hoeing cotton and corn; but while waiting for this higher work to come to them, they were not ashamed to help by field work the burdened father who had made so many sacrifices to give them an education. Yet some say it spoils the colored people to educate them! H. N. P. A BLACK MAN TO WHITE MEN. We take the following from a recent address at the opening of a new Presbyterian Sabbath-school in the South: MY WHITE FRIENDS:-You can scarcely realize the feelings of a black man who has calmly studied his present condition in this country, and what he, his children and race may hope for among you in the future. You see that six and a half millions of our population are practically without the means of true elevation. You may further see that this peo ple, from no fault of their own, are, as a mass, sunk in mental and moral darkness. They truly sit in the region and shadow of death, and wonder if better days will ever come. God speed their coming, for we are sad and sick of their tarrying. Every day of our dungeon life but increases our pain and blights our expectation. Some true and noble hearts-at the Emancipation-visited us in our inner prison and told us not to be discouraged, but to hope for better days. Many of us have hoped and prayed and labored for them, but from present indications they are still a long way in the future. What can be the trouble? Of what crime is the black man guilty? In free America no innocent man is legally punished. The laws are against it; public sentiment is against it. Evidently then, we, the sable sons of Ham, are guilty of some offence-if not against the laws of the land, certainly against public sentiment. From whatever standpoint-save one-we view our condition, we see that we are bound; bound in poverty, bound in ignorance, bound in spiritual darkness, bound in all things that degrade and make life unpleasant. Wherever we go the clanking of our captive chains may be heard, and their demoralizing influences seen and felt. Every avenue of life is practically blocked against us. The severest toil of the field is ours, but the fruits another's. Nothing, not even an exodus, can cure the ills of our life as long as we are what we are. Pressed in the rear on the right hand and on the left, with an unnatural sea of prejudice in the front, we must stand still until heaven appoints our Moses and bids us go forward. In God, then, is the black man's true help. In him is every man's strong tower. Do not think I am complaining; I am not. To do so would be to sin against those faithful men and women who took up our cause when Grant and Lincoln laid it down. All honor to our late and early friends. God bless them. We honor and love them for what they have done for us, and for what they are still doing. But notwithstanding their labors we are still captives, and must ever remain such unless the Church of God comes to the rescue. And may I not ask why we should sit and sigh away a most miserable captivity, since heaven has established the church for the very purpose "To proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; to appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit It was Saturday afternoon, and Mrs. Tucker was very tired. Life was hard at best, only a tedious routine of wearisome duties; but on this particular afternoon, the closing of the week's work pressed very heavily upon her. "Oh, Mrs. Tucker, can Sallie go with us to the mission band?" Mrs. Tucker raised her eyes, and saw, standing in the doorway, two little girls. "Mission band! I'd like to know what's a mission band?" she demanded sharply. "Why," spoke out the bolder of the two, "it's a lot of us children all together, working and sewing for poor folks. We bring our pennies to Miss May for them, and she says it's giving to Jesus. We have just the nicest time; do let her go." "Oh, mother," and Sallie's brown eyes looked appealingly irto her mother's face, "please say I may-do let me." Mrs. Tucker slowly folded the garment she had ironed, and hung it in its place before she answered. "No, she can't. I can give her all the sewing she wants to home, and we've got nothing to give the Lord; he don't give to us. So go along, and tell Miss May that Sallie Tucker's better set to work." When Mrs. Tucker, the hard day's work at last completed, toiled wearily up stairs, she found her little daughter seated upon the top stair, while about her on the floor were scattered all her childish treasures. "What on earth, child," exclaimed her mother, "is all this clutter for? What are you trying to do?" "Why, mother," chirruped the sweet child's voice, "I am looking to find something to give to Jesus." "Give to Jesus! What do you think the Lord wants of such stuff as this?" "But, mother," she explained, and her voice grew unsteady and the bright eyes filled with tears, "my teacher said anything we give to him, he would like it; and if we gave what we loved best, it pleased him most. And this is what I love most-my wax doll and my birthday book. Won't he take it, mother? Can't I give him anything?" "Sallie Tucker !" and her mother's voice was cold and stern, "you just put this notion out of your head. You don't know what giving to the Lord means. Put this trash away. When the Lord remembers us with some of his plenty, 'twill be time enough to give to him, I reckon." It was the afternoon for the Woman's Quarterly Missionary Meeting, in the Shadyville Baptist church. Mrs. Gray, the minister's wife, came to the vestry with a sad heart. She knew too well the character of these gatherings. A few ladies came together in a listless, apathetic way, a few lifeless prayers were offered, a little business disposed of, and the ladies went to their homes wondering why there wasn't more interest in missions. Mrs. Tucker wasn't in the habit of attending the missionary meeting, so when she came into one this afternoon, the ladies present looked at each other in surprise. Mrs. Gray read the psalm and offered prayer, and then came the usual dead silence. Presently Mrs. Tucker rose to her feet, and, in a voice shaken with emotion, said: "I s'pose you're all astonished to see me here, but the truth of the matter is, I've got something to say to you, which can't half be told in words, neither. You all know my little Sallie has been sick; but I don't s'pose none of you know what that sickness has been to me. You see the children wanted her to go to the mission band, but I was tough and cranky, and dead set agin' anything of the kind, and I told her, in the crossest way, she couldn't go. She'd heard somethin' about giving to Jesus, and laid out her best doll and book; an' I laughed at it, an' told her the Lord didn't want her trash. Well, she took sick, an' got sicker an' sicker, till my heart stood still with the fear o' losing her. She was out of her head, you know; and every time I come near the bed she'd start right up an' say, 'Oh, can't I give him anything? Don't he want my dolly? Oh mother, mother, can't I go?' till I just thought my heart would break in two. Every where I looked, I could see her eyes, with such a beseechin' look in 'em, and hear her voice callin', 'Mother, mother, can't I give anything ? till at last I went down on my knees, all broke up like, and I sez: "Lord, I'm a poor, ungrateful sinner, and I've been a-withholding from you all these years; but if there's anythin' I can give you, please take it. Even my little girl, and everything I've got, I just lay down.' Well, my sisters, I cried an' cried as I hain't for years, and it wasn't all for sorrow, neither; there was a great deep joy in it all. An' I come here to-day to tell you that I just give myself and all I've got to the Lord's work. I'm fairly converted to missions, and if the Lord will only take the poor, miserable offerin' I've got to give, and use me rough-shod in his work, I'd really be only too thankful. Why, my sisters, I'm the happiest woman on earth, and it's all owin' to the blessed child and that there children's band." I can tell the "Little Presbyterians" how they can put their dolls and toys to good use, and how they can give them to Jesus. You will be getting new dolls and toys and picture books about Christmas time, or perhaps on your birthday. Now do not throw the old ones away. You just take all your old dolls and toys and picture books and Sunday-school books and put them into a box; and if you have any good second-hand caps and shoes and stockings, dresses, aprons and remnants of calico and muslin, put them in the box too, and then write to me, and I will tell you where you can send that box to some poor children of the freedmen whom you will make so happy that, if you could see them when the box comes, they would show you two hundred sets of little ivory teeth in their joyous laughter. In this way you may give all these things to Jesus, for he has said, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done unto me." R. H. ALLEN, Do not I love thee, O my Lord? Hast thou a lamb in all thy flock |