The day following the wedding, a general council, or meeting, was held. Father Waller of the Methodist, and Father Croystel of the Catholic Church, being present, the subject of religion was taken up and discussed. The facts elicited were, that many of the Indians, perhaps a majority, were in favor of the Catholic Church. The remainder were in favor of the Methodist, a few only appearing indifferent.
Neither of the fathers took part in the “talks.” My own opinion, expressed then and since, on other occasions, was, that the greatest liberty of conscience should be allowed in religious practice. That the people should honor all religions that were Christian. No bitter feelings were exhibited. I attended, at other times, the Catholic Church exercises, conducted by Rev. Father Croystel. The Indians came in large numbers, some of them on horses, but the majority in wagons; whole families, cleanly clad and well behaved.
Those who belonged to the Catholic Church were devout, and assisted the father in the ceremonies and responses. The invitation was extended to any and all denominations to preach; on one occasion a minister came by invitation, and preached in the office. The attendance was not large, but the employés of the agency monopolized all the available benches. They seemed to think that the Indians had no rights. The preacher began his discourse, and, after dilating on the word of God, with a prosy effort to explain some abstruse proposition in theology, for half an hour, my patience became exhausted, and I arose and
made the suggestion that, since the meeting was for the benefit of the Indians, something should be said which they might understand. More seats were provided, and the preacher started anew, and when a sentence was uttered that was within the comprehension of those for whom the preaching was intended, it was translated. This meeting, however, did not do them very much good, because it was not conducted in a way that was understood by the Indians.
The man who was trying to do good had undoubtedly answered when some one else had been called of God to preach the gospel. He would, perhaps, have made a passable mechanic, but he had no qualifications for preaching to Indians. He was not human enough. He was too well educated. He knew too much. Had he been less learned, or possessed more common sense, he might have been competent to teach great grown-up children, as these Indian people are, in the Christian religion.
A short colloquy overheard between two of the red children he had been preaching to would have set him to thinking. The talk was in the Indian language, but, translated, would have run in about the following style:—
“Do you understand what all that talk was about?”—“No; do you? Well, he was talking wicked half the time, and good half the time. He was telling about a man getting lost a long time ago. Got lost and didn’t find himself for forty years. That’s a big story, but maybe it is so. I don’t know. Never heard of it before.”
I need not say to the reader, that this minister had been preaching about Moses. Perhaps he was not to
be censured. He may have done the best he could. He did not know how to reach an Indian’s heart.
The schools at this agency were not flourishing. The reason was that the mode was impracticable. Schools were taught with about as much sense and judgment as the preaching just referred to.