One of the most thrilling incidents of the late war was one in which I was an observer and part participant. I never more wished for the powers of a great painter than then, or even now, for I can see it to-day as vividly as when it occurred, fourteen years ago; for to me it seemed to contain a history of slavery, embodied in a single act. The army, in suddenly swinging round, had enclosed within its lines a large number of slaves who could not be taken further South before this was done. As we could not encumber ourselves with the women and children, the steamers bringing supplies for the army were prepared to take them to Washington. A very large steamer was brought as near the shore as possible, and a plank gangway, some fifteen feet in length, and at an angle of about 45°, was laid from the shore to the entryport of the steamer. Just back from the shore, the bluff, at about the same angle, rose some 100 feet, and this bluff and the plain above were occupied and covered by some three or four thousand slaves. All being made ready, the order was given for embarkation; the women and children were to go on board first. For some moments no one started, and then a single figure, that of a woman of some sixty years, was seen slowly advancing alone up the plank; no one else followed. A perfect hush seemed to hang over the scene, as if some great event was to take place, and if ever an emblematic scene was enacted it was here. Slowly the bent form went forward, bearing the weight of years of toil in the field—years of bodily and heart suffering such as you and I never knew, and pray God never may. Her face, her whole frame, was a perfect picture of a doubt. All eyes seemed to watch her in silence; officers and men waited—they probably knew not for what; her own people—as though she was their “path-finder.” At last she reached the side of the steamer; the open port was right before her, and just then it seemed to her as the open portal to all her heart’s longings, and God’s open door. She and her race had poured, for long years, their tales of trial and suffering into His ear, “who never slumbers nor sleeps.” Was this the answer to her prayers? That seemed to be the question of her heart all the way up. Suddenly the bent form straightened, the homely, wrinkled face glowed with a new light, her coarse, ragged garb was a royal robe, as she turned and looked towards her people, raising her hand and eyes to heaven, and exclaiming, in tones so loud and clear that they reached every ear, and made the very hills ring: “I’s free! Thank God, I’s free! Come on!” For a single instant there was perfect silence, and then cheer on cheer rent the air, and, with a shout, the rest followed up the gangway till the steamer was full. It was, indeed, their way to liberty and happiness even in this life, and by such efforts as this Association is making and aiding, shall it not be to the life to come?
The paper closes with a plea for the liberal support of our work among the freedmen, enforced by
Two Examples of Liberality.
About giving, let me relate two incidents and I close, for if they appeal to you as they did to me they will be more effective than any mere words of mine. As I sat in Mr. Woodworth’s office, the other day, an elderly lady came in and took a chair by his desk, saying, as she opened her bag, that she had come to bring her offering. Her dress was not of the latest fashion, her bonnet was not of the spring style; but her face was one of those beautiful motherly faces you and I used to look into years ago, and which, though years have come and gone since they were covered from our sight, are still as sweet to our memories as ever—such faces as we know will greet us lovingly in heaven, for they are watching and waiting for us, and our entrance there will be, in no small measure, in answer to their prayers. From her pocket-book she took a bill and handed it to Mr. W., saying, she wished it were more, and in such a tone that I knew it was a heart gift, and that the wish was almost a prayer, which might go with the gift and make it as effectual as if it were all she had desired it to be. Gifts made in such a spirit, in His hands, who multiplied the bread of old, grow to wonderful results. The bill, to my surprise, for I had imagined the circumstances of the donor to be very limited, was twenty dollars.
I have another: A poor woman, with an income of less than one hundred and fifty dollars a year, whose yearly offering had been a single dollar, came and laid down on the secretary’s desk (I had almost said at the Master’s feet, for the place seemed sacred ground) ten dollars, saying that she could not be here long, her journey was almost ended, and that she felt she must do all the could while she stayed, for she could not give after she had gone home, and so, after prayer, long and earnest, she had been enabled to make this, perhaps her last gift. What a gift from such scanty resources! It meant the giving up of many necessaries, as we should call them. Have we so given? She had cast in of her want, and may well expect to hear the Master’s commendation. May she not have cast in more than we all?
OBITUARY.
We are called to notice the death of Rev. Silas McKeen, D. D., of Bradford, Vt., whose name, for fourteen years, has stood upon our list of Vice-Presidents. Mr. McKeen was born in Corinth, Vt., March 16, 1791. His education was obtained amid many difficulties. So great was his desire for knowledge that, in his father’s grist-mill, he occupied his leisure moments in studying, without a teacher, Latin and the higher mathematics. During an illness which caused him to abandon all thoughts of a collegiate education, he was led to devote himself entirely to the service of Christ; and, in the following spring, he commenced the study of theology with Rev. Stephen Fuller, of Vershire. In 1814 he was licensed by the Orange Association to preach the gospel. His first sermon was delivered in Vershire, and his second in Bradford, where, shortly afterwards, he was installed as pastor. Twelve years later, he was dismissed from this church, but in less than three months was recalled, and remained its pastor five years longer, when he was again dismissed, this time that he might accept a call to Belfast, Me. After nine years of labor in Belfast, he was a second time invited to return to Bradford. His whole ministry in this place was about forty-three years, he finally resigning when he was seventy-five years old. During these years, there were added to the church three hundred and forty-two members. A man of great diligence and decision, with tender sympathies and warm affection, true and judicious, his ordinary work among his own people, as well as in protracted meetings and in revivals, was eminently successful. He took a lively interest in education, and was a true and eloquent friend of the colored people. Full of years, with his work well done, he was ready to leave it for the reward.