He may rise and grasp the pillars
Of our temple’s liberties, shake the foundations
Till all beneath its broken columns lie in ruins?”
Amid the religious training received from that part of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, that trained them at all, did not appear anything different from the system of slavery in vogue, save the promise of an eternal Sabbath. It is true a colored membership was reported by the Methodist Episcopal Church, South; but this did not mean that the colored people within that Church were permitted to worship God in their own congregations, or that there were any colored pastors or class-leaders among that membership. If slavery had continued, the condition of the colored man religiously could never have become better. Just how—unless force of circumstances played a part in the drama—a brotherly feeling could have arisen or existed in the bosom of the poor colored man under that régime, we can not, for the life of us, surmise. But all that was ended with the war, and still there was but little, if any, change. The withdrawals at first opportunity of colored people from the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, meant something. The Methodist Episcopal Church, South, was then, at any rate, unwilling to educate the colored man. In proof of the last assertion, we turn to page 148 of Dr. A. G. Haygood’s book, “Our Brother in Black.” The following, published in 1881 by this leading philosopher and clergyman in the Methodist Episocopal Church, South, is as significant as sound. He says:
“If the work of educating the Negroes of the South is ever to be carried on satisfactorily, if ever the best results are to be accomplished, then Southern white people must take part in the work of teaching Negro schools. There have been some very sad and hurtful mistakes in the relations assumed by most of us of the South to this whole matter, and especially in the fact that, with very rare exceptions, our people have steadfastly refused to teach Negro children, especially since they were made free, for love or money. They have recoiled from Negro schools as if there were personal degradation in teaching them. Perhaps the state of things that existed at the South for a full decade after the war, and for which Southern people were not alone responsible—a state of things that made it impracticable for Southern white men and women to teach Negro schools—was inevitable. But so it was; they could not do it without ‘losing caste.’ As I am trying to state facts honestly, I should add, the prevailing sentiment of the South would not even now look favorably upon such teachers; but I must say we are growing in sense as well as grace on this subject.”
Without further comment, the above corroborates the statement that the condition of the freedmen in the South directly after the war, temporally, spiritually, morally, and intellectually, was a loud enough call, and the mission of enough importance to warrant the action of the General Conference of 1864 in its action that virtually announced the intention of the Methodist Episcopal Church to go into the South. The fact that conferences had been opened in the South for colored people was sufficient proof.
THE CHURCH IN THE SOUTH.
When the General Conference of 1868 met in the city of Chicago, Ill., for its twentieth session, among other things it took up the subject of the relation of the Church to the colored man. There were present at that General Conference two hundred and forty-three delegates. When the General Conference of 1864 authorized the formation of mission conferences in the South for colored people, as a Church, it “had been practically excluded for twenty years” from Alabama, North and South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Tennessee, Mississippi, Louisiana, Arkansas, and Texas, while a generation had grown up under the immediate care, as if were, of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. It is true that the Methodist Episcopal Church had held on in some sort in the city of Baltimore—this being her strongest fort—while through some parts of Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, Kentucky, and Missouri it had a foothold. Our Church in 1863, in the last-named States, claimed 332 effective preachers, 84,673 members, and 919 church-buildings. By the next year, when the General Conference of 1864 met for its nineteenth session in Philadelphia, it claimed in the above-named five slave States 309 effective preachers, 87,072 members—15,898 being colored—and 982 churches, being an increase in these five States of 2,399 members, not including probationers, and a decrease of 23 effective preachers, and an increase of 63 church-buildings. Thus it may be seen that a wise Providence proclaimed the mission of our Church; and there was then, as we see now, no mistake made on the part of our Church when it heard and obeyed the commission in this case, “Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.” The crowning act touching the subject we discuss was given by the General Conference of 1864 in these words: “We are not aware of any legal obstacle to the reception of colored preachers into our annual conferences.” Touching the work done by the last General Conference, and showing somewhat of the results attained, the Bishops’ Address to the Twentieth General Conference contained the following:
“They [the Delaware and Washington colored conferences] now contain one hundred and one ministers and twenty-six thousand four hundred and eighty-seven members and probationers. The creation of these conferences was hailed by our colored ministers and membership with great joy, and has, we believe, been productive of much good. The ministers are becoming familiar with the mode of conducting business, and many of them are rapidly improving. At their recent sessions they elected representatives to this body according to the form of the Discipline for electing delegates. Whether these representatives should be admitted, you alone have authority to decide. In our judgment, the success of this work demands all the encouragement which the General Conference can properly give.”
The regular and natural succession of action touching the relation of the Church toward the colored man seems to declare, to our mind at any rate, that it has the divine sanction. The submission of the above resolution brought at once before the General Conference of 1868 the question of the advisability of admitting—not colored testimony, or testimony from people of color—but colored delegates to equality in the General Conference of one of the largest denominations in the world. The Christ-like spirit of the bishops in presenting the matter, supported by their modest indorsement of it, was manly. They said: “In our judgment, the success of this work demands all the encouragement which the General Conference can properly give.” It may have been that it was not thoroughly settled in the minds of all the delegates of that General Conference. The result, however, was satisfactory, in that James Davis and Benjamin Brown were seated as delegates, and thereby the equal rights of our colored members were not only recognized, but everything looking to their elevation, done by the Church, was stamped with approval. The adjournment of that General Conference did not take place until provision for other conferences for our people, at their own request, was made. The year preceding that General Conference a colored presiding elder had been appointed over a district in Kentucky; nine mission conferences had been organized in our Southern field; colored preachers had been received into the Kentucky and Missouri Annual Conferences. Notwithstanding this, wherever a mission conference was organized a new inspiration seemed to overshadow the entire work. The provision above referred to was as follows: