“The days are all very busy, and go too quickly. The school bell rings at half-past six in the morning, when Mr. Lewis has the men to begin the day. After breakfast the men’s classes, taught by Mr. Lewis and Mr. Moon, proceed till noon, in which they study many subjects, such as Old and New Testament, Geography, Astronomy, Arithmetic, and Homiletics; also French and Portuguese languages.
“The men we have here seem very nice and intelligent, and all have been engaged in teaching at the various stations of the two Missions. The women, two or three of whom are old friends of mine, cannot give so much time to school as their husbands, as they have their children to look after; but we have three hours every day, one and a half hours in the morning, and the same again in the afternoon. This kind of teaching is quite new to them, but they seem really to enjoy it, and it is quite interesting to see how their minds begin to open to ideas that have never entered them before. Many could not even read when they came, and never tried to sew or write. But sewing they take to easily, and they are getting on very quickly with their reading. The writing they find more difficult, but that will come in time. Some can read and write well, and can cut out and sew both with hand and machine, but these are the women who as girls were on one of the Mission stations. We have these subjects in the afternoon, when my four girls join us. Also in Geography and Arithmetic they are most interested. On Fridays while they sew I read to them from ‘The Holy War,’ which has been translated by Mr. Phillips.
“In the morning we have two classes each day. Three mornings weekly we give to the study of the Old and New Testament; on one I am telling them how we got the Bible; and on Fridays we have prayer, and a talk about Christian living. Beside that they are learning a little about Natural History: our bodies, health, &c., and also how different things are made. By all these means we are trying to teach them to see God’s finger in all His wonderful works, and to enlarge their thoughts. We finish the week’s work as far as teaching is concerned by a singing class, which I hold on Friday evening. All the men and as many of the women as can crowd into our dining-room, sing hymns for an hour. That is a hot hour, and you might see the perspiration pouring off my face as I play the American organ.
“On Sundays we all meet together—teachers, students, workmen, and children—for our morning service, which is conducted alternately by Mr. Lewis and Mr. Moon. In the afternoon the students have a service, which any one who likes can attend, and at the same time I have a class of all the girls on the Station. There are only eight of them, but with pictures and hymns and Bible stories we have a good time. After teaching the women all the week I am glad to have the children on Sundays.
“I have not mentioned the industrial classes which the men attend in the afternoons, or the gardens in which both men and women work. Each couple has a piece of land, which they cultivate for food, and it is a pleasant sight to see husband and wife working together in these plantations.
“To us who can remember the conditions which obtained here when we came to Congo twenty-two years ago, it is indeed a source of encouragement and thankfulness to look at the faces of these young men and women, and to see that they are the fruit of the toil of the last thirty years. Many of the labourers have passed away to their rest, but their works do follow them. Just now we are at the beginning, and the Institute will grow both in the number of students and in their attainments. We are now anxious to lay good and firm foundations upon which others may build in the days to come.”
“May 21st.—There has been great excitement here to-day, we have been terribly busy and are very tired this evening. The Belgian Colonial Minister has come out to Congo, and is going to look at things in general. Yesterday he sent up a message saying that he was coming here to see us, so we had to fly round. We had already heard that he purposed staying at the Catholic Mission, and Tom had sent a note to say he would like to have a share in welcoming him. The head priest, who speaks English, wrote a very pleasant reply. So we had our road from the station cleaned, the Catholics had theirs cleaned, and each Mission erected a triumphal arch. Last night Tom and I were up quite late finishing a motto: ‘Congo Training College welcomes Colonial Minister.’ Of course to-day everything had to be swept and garnished, and after dinner Tom and Mr. Moon went down to the station followed by all the students, workmen, and children, bearing a banner with ‘Vive le Ministre!’ inscribed. I did not see all this as I had to stay at home to receive the great man. The priests were there also with their contingent. We lent them our rickshaws to convey the Minister (Mons. Renkin) and his wife. They went straight to the Catholic Mission, and then came on here; not the lady, for which I was sorry, but the Minister and his Secretary, the Secretary-General of the Congo State, the attendant Doctor, and a priest. They came and had a cup of tea first. Of course I got out all my pretty things for them; then they went and saw everything. They were especially pleased and evidently impressed by the students’ quarters, and I hope this and other things M. Renkin may see will give him a good idea of Protestant missions. He seemed quite inclined to be friendly with the natives, and we hear that his sympathies are with reform, so we trust good may come of his visit. Prince Albert has gone through Katanga, and M. Renkin is going to meet him and bring him down the Congo home. He had seen Mr. Phillips and Dr. Sims at Matadi. To-morrow he will have a send-off from the station.”
“May 25th. (To Mrs. Gamble, San Salvador.)—You asked about the lemon grass at San Salvador. We brought it from Matadi, and I suppose it came originally from Jamaica, but we do not know; neither do we know its proper name. I learned from an article by Winston Churchill in the Strand that it is extensively planted in Uganda and keeps off mosquitoes. We have some growing here, and if only it would render this service it would indeed be a blessing. But I doubt if anything will rid us of mosquitoes unless we could alter the whole place. We are longing for the complete cessation of the rains that we may have a few months’ respite from these plagues.”
“June 10th. (To Miss Ethel Percival).—Since Monday—this is Thursday—I have been in bed with a nasty liver attack, severe headache, and a little temperature. I am better to-day, and we hope to go out this evening for a ride in our rickshaws. It will do Uncle good, too, to have a blow. My being in bed is very worrying for him with all his other work, and he has not been at all fit. Happily he is better to-day, and we hope that now the dry season has really set in we shall keep well. We have been much better lately, but the mosquitoes here are really dreadful.”
The next day, June 11th, Mrs. Lewis wrote to me, sending her own and her husband’s congratulations upon the completion and publication of “The Life of George Grenfell.” The British Weekly was the most prized by her of all the papers which came from England, and its Editor was one of her oracles. She had received the issue containing Claudius Clear’s appreciative review, and told of her joy and pride in reading it, regretting that expanse of land and sea prevented her from dropping in to say what she felt with her own lips. She also wrote in affectionate terms of her gladness in the recovery of my little daughter Phyllis, who had lain for weeks in the valley of the shadow of death. It was my last letter, and abides a cherished possession.