New Britain was the next place, and may be noted as the turning point in the adverse circumstances attending the Connecticut campaign. A pleasant evening and a large audience here greeted us, and an interest evoked that was decidedly manifest. From this time onward until the last day, which proved rainy, we had good weather, and, with only one or at most two exceptions, well-attended meetings. What has been said regarding the co-operation we received from the ministers in the preceding places is true of all. Everywhere the ministers gave us cordial help, and to them is owing very largely the success of our meetings. Milford, Manchester, Glastonbury, Southington, Colchester, Danielsonville, New London and Stonington are the remaining places visited on week days; Bridgeport, Wethersfield, Hartford, Berlin, Wallingford and Meriden on Sundays. In Bridgeport, we had a hearing in all four of the churches, with a union meeting in the evening. In Hartford, three of the churches—Pearl street, Fourth and Dr. Burton’s—gave us audience. Mr. Cutler spoke in the morning at Wethersfield, greatly enjoying the service by reason of the three-mile walk he took in order to reach the church, and yet he does not speak in favor of ministers taking such walks. He thinks the Scripture is right in saying that “bodily exercise profiteth little.” As just intimated, the last day of the campaign in Connecticut, Sunday, Nov. 25, was rainy. The closing meeting was held in Meriden. It was a union meeting of the First and Second Churches, Rev. Messrs. Hall and Hungerford entering heartily into it. A good audience braved the storm, and gave interested attention to our message.
We contemplate a short campaign in Massachusetts during the month of December, of which I may give some account in the future.
THE CHILDREN’S PAGE.
Dear S. S. Friends:
The other day I heard one of our teachers say, “I’d rather anybody would be really blunt, if he means what he says, than ever so fine, if I cannot depend upon him.” Yesterday, I heard another teacher say, “Mrs. J. is not deceitful enough to be decent.”
Now I know I ought not to write you a sermon, but these two sayings, like texts, will stay in my mind when I think of you.
A good many of you have been to school enough to study U. S. history, and you remember about the stern old Puritan who settled in New England and the Cavalier who settled in the South. Well, we Puritan Yankees, many of whom have been taught to feel that it is a sin even to greet an acquaintance with “I’m glad to see you,” when for some reason we cannot be glad at heart, are very much annoyed when we come South, by being so often deceived, because we cannot tell how much allowance to make for expressions which were intended only to please. For instance, I explain a difficult problem, and ask if it is understood. “Yes, ma’am,” is the prompt reply. Surprised, as well as delighted, at the brightness of my pupil, I ask, “Are you sure you understand perfectly?” “Yes, ma’am,” with as much assurance as before. The next day I assign the problem to the confident pupil, and he knows nothing about it. Or, a pupil comes to me for assistance in a problem. I give it, and he replies: “I started to do it that way, but thought it was wrong.” Of course, such a strange thing as thinking we were wrong when we were right, could not happen very often. But when the same words—“I started to do it that way, but thought it was wrong,” and other expressions equally suspicious, are often repeated, with what weight they come to fall upon our hearts, almost burying our hope and courage as we see how hard it is to be simply true.