THE SOUTH.
VACATION ECHOES.
REV. G.S. ROLLINS.
I wish some of our home friends who complain of dull, unprofitable prayer-meetings could step into one of the kind we have in our colored churches. One soon loses sight of mispronunciation and wretched grammar in listening to the sensible, meaty, forceful ideas which many of these negroes can express. You cannot go to a prayer-meeting without bringing something away.
One good old mother in Israel said to me lately, in regard to the weekly prayer-meeting: "I begins in de mawnin' to lay my plans fur dat meetin', an I don stop ter eat so's to get my work along froo de day. And I tinks and prays a heap about dat meetin' all day, I does."
How many of you at home do as much for your prayer-meeting as this poor old colored woman? No dull summer prayer-meetings when church members go prepared like this. I have said that these people have ideas and can express them. At my last prayer-meeting before departing for my vacation, one good brother prayed that the "Lord would bless the pastor in his absence and continue to fill him up with new things, so he can give them out to us." The pastor is filling up as fast as possible.
One of the questions most often asked is, "Are the colored people improving?" One has to say, "Of course they are." But are they progressing rapidly? Yes and no. Yes, considering their antecedents and present advantages. No, if one were to measure their rate of progress by our impatience. The surest progress is not the swiftest. Slow and sure is the rule by which we work. Statistics but feebly tell the story of the improvement [pg 283] of the Freedmen since the war. They can best testify concerning the advance who have been in the field since the beginning of the work.
But even if it is slow, it pays well. There came into my church one Sunday not long ago a poor old lady who was a comparative stranger in the city. During the sermon she sat with mouth, eyes and ears open. After the service she came to me and said, "I tank de Lord He bro't me year. I done been gwine ter church dese fifty years, an I nebber heard de tex 'splained befo." This old lady has since united with our church, and when she is not there I know something serious is the matter at her home. It is worth a year's preaching to have the privilege of enlightening one benighted soul like this.
I called recently on an old gentleman who had become generally disgusted with "dese yere churches roun year." I found him poring over a big, well-worn Bible, the perspiration pouring down his shiny face, and with a big pair of spectacles resting on the tip of his nose. With an air of superior wisdom he surveyed me over the top of the spectacles, and then solemnly stated to the few who gathered around as I sat down on an old soap box, "Dat a preacher? I kin tell a preacher the fus question I ask him." Then taking off the spectacles and slowly closing the big Bible, he went on: "Now I'se gwine to put you all a question" (looking at the others) "an den I'se gwine ter ask de preacher, an I can tell whedder he'm a good one or not." "Now," said he, "when we gits cold and wicked follerin' our own ways, how does de Lord brung us back again to our senses?" This question was put with various modifications to each in turn until it came to me. "Now, what does you say?" he said to me. I replied that my experience said "Trouble." "Yah! Yah! dat's it, Trouble. You's answered it, shore; dese yere ignorant niggers, dey don't know nuffin. Ise gwine up to hear you preach next Sunday." And sure enough, there he was the next Sunday and his wife with him. This is about the way we gather them in, one by one.
A great many families are gathered in by getting their children interested. A parent sends his little ones to our school and says: "I never had no chance to git learnin', but I wants my children to have it."
There, after all this rambling, I have reached the one idea which I believe ought to stick in the mind of every A.M.A. worker and every A.M.A. supporter—the children! If we can only teach them, save them, the African in America and in Africa is saved. It seems to me this is the solution of the problem. The longer one labors among the colored people and learns them and their surroundings, the more difficult seems the solution of the negro problem. Tourists in the South and people at a distance are very prolific in suggestions as to the best methods for elevating the negro. Why! visitors who have spent hardly twenty-four hours in a Southern city can write home marvellous letters as to the wonderful progress of the colored race, and prophesy a speedy settlement of the matter of negro education and race prejudice. It is a fact, however, that the longer one stays here the more [pg 284] puzzled he grows about these matters. An old A.M.A. worker said to me, "The first year of your work you will think you understand the colored people pretty well; the second year you won't know quite so much; the third year still less, and so on until by the tenth year you will think you don't know anything about them." But we all come to one conclusion, that all the trouble arising from race prejudice will pass away as the negro rises. When he is able to intelligently exercise all his rights, then the white man will have to acknowledge them. This result is in the distance, and while due attention is given to the older ones, yet the destiny of the colored race is wrapt up in the rising generation. They are terribly endangered, but they must be saved if the race is saved. A new generation, who knew nothing of slavery but much of the dangers of freedom, are taking hold upon manhood. They must be taught to read, to think, to work, to save and to love goodness for its own sake. If all this can be brought about I believe the Negro question will be settled. This must be done. I trust that not all of the 1,500 who have lately signified a willingness to enter the mission field will suppose that all of the ignorant and needy millions are on the other side of the globe. We hear a good deal just now about patriotism. Now, how can one better prove his patriotism than by giving his money or service to save his country from ignorance and degradation? It will pay you back in dollars and cents, to say nothing of the reward of learning that "it is more blessed to give than to receive."
INTEMPERANCE.
The few lines below indicate the quality and flavor of the papers read by the graduating class at Atlanta University.
One of the great causes of intemperance in our land is that lack of self-respect which the present state of society induces among the poor and laborious. Just as long as wealth is the object of worship and the measure of men's importance, and is regarded as the badge of distinction, just so long will there be a tendency toward self-abasement and self-abandonment among those whose lot gives them no chance to acquire it.
Such naturally feel as if the great good of life were denied them. They feel themselves neglected. Their condition cuts them off from communion with educated and refined people. They think they have little or no stake in the general weal of life. They feel as though they have no character to lose, consequently intemperance takes possession of them.
This evil of intemperence is said by some to be the greatest of all evils. It is the cause of the ruin of some of our fathers and brothers, and I am sorry to say it ruins some of the mothers. When we, the temperance girls and boys, ask them to leave off their habit of drinking, they tell us that it does them good. When cold it makes them warm, when warm it makes [pg 285] them cold. When troubled, it cheers them. When weak, it strengthens them. It is certainly killing them by degrees.
STUDENT'S LETTER.
THE BLUE-JACKET TEACHER—FIRST SCHOOL EXPERIENCE.
From youth I was impressed that the "Yankee" was the terror of the world, capable of literally swallowing a small fellow, so it was with great difficulty that Judge M.J. S——, a Southern white man, induced me, in 1873, to enter Burrell Academy, then an A.M.A. school located in Selma, Alabama, and taught by some of those "blue jacket" beings whose names did not always begin with "blessed." The principal having sent me to Grade 2, I followed a little girl to the door of that room. She passed in while I stood at the door and thought thus, "Shall I go in here when one of those awful "blues" is there?" Half doubting, half fearing, trembling throughout, I slipped shyly inside the first school-house I ever entered, and lo! to my greatest surprise there sat a woman who was anything but "blue," whose face was as white and fair as any ever seen, whose hair was slightly golden, whose voice seemed more sweet, mellow and musical than the softest flute note; she was one whom all praised and loved. The only blue about her was her eyes, which marked her pure Saxon lineage.
When I felt sure that no monster would suddenly spring from those queer walls of white and black, I silently exclaimed, "Why, that's a white woman!"
In March, 1873, she began teaching me the alphabet, when I was thirteen years old. I had no mother and no home or friend, other than Judge S——, in whose family I served.
In 1874 he left the city, leaving me homeless. I vainly sought work but was turned away with "too small."
Pinched and pressed by hunger and want, I was despairing when that angel-like teacher, one of the purest and best of women, came to my rescue, and thenceforth with her own hands and earnings continued to help supply all my needs—material and spiritual. She taught me the alphabet of school, of life and of heaven; she influenced me to pray, and in answer to our prayers I was converted and joined the church in 1875.
In May, 1879, finishing the course, I graduated from Grammar Department A, of Burrell Academy, and began teaching in Cato, Miss., in 1880. In the autumn of this year, I entered the Normal and College Preparatory Departments of Talladega College, and graduated in May, 1884.
Returning to Preston, Ga., I resumed my school work, whence I was called to a position in Burrell Academy under Prof. Edwin C. Silsby, Principal. [pg 286] Upon the resignation of the above named gentleman, in 1885, I was finally chosen principal of that school. This position I still hold, striving to perform in the most faithful, earnest and satisfactory manner the work of him that sent me.
The first money earned by me as teacher, went toward the purchase of the home now owned and occupied by us. My good friend, who labors to-day in Beaufort, N.C., having helped me through college and seen me launch upon life's tide, seemed to say, "My boy, do not drift, but steer straight for heaven's port, and do unto others as I have done unto you." For me, her prayers still ascend, unto me, her wise counsel still comes, and upon me, her benedictions still rest.
In conclusion I say God bless you, A.M.A. for sending such a laborer into the field, for if there is, or shall be, in me anything of manhood, worth or useful service to my country, my people and my God, the credit is due to her.
ALEXANDER A. PETERS.