The industrial work of Atlanta consists, first, in farm-work. The farm of sixty acres, which is the most beautiful spot in the State of Georgia, and under the superintendence of a Massachusetts farmer, speaks for itself. The young men learn, also, wood-work, draughting and forging; they exhibit some exquisite specimens of lathe and chisel-work, and the young carpenters readily find employment in the city at the highest wages. The girls not only do much of the work of the boarding-houses, but have special and daily lessons in cooking and sewing; and I can testify to their practical skill.
The baccalaureate sermon was preached on Sunday, May 27, by Rev. C.W. Francis, the pastor of the University church, and, the past year, Acting President, also. It was a notable occasion. The commodious chapel of Stone Hall was packed, the many students of course filling a large space, while their friends and former students filled in the background. Colored people are by nature ardent and magnetic, and when education and religion have developed their characters and toned down their absurdities, they are a very interesting and attractive people.
Forward on the platform and side seats were Dr. Strieby and Dr. Beard, of New York, the honored Secretaries of the American Missionary Association, Dr. Woodworth, of Massachusetts, Dr. Pentecost, of Brooklyn, N.Y., with Mr. Stebbins, his sweet singer, now holding revival meetings in Atlanta, and the faculty and workers generally of the University.
The sermon was preached without notes, as is usual with Prof. Francis, and with his usual quiet earnestness. The discourse was as tender as it was able and wise, and ever to be remembered by the thirteen girls sitting just before him.
Of the singing on such an occasion, no Northern audience can have any conception. The closing hymn was that grand one, "Guide me, O thou Great Jehovah!" It is almost an anthem, and when it is known that the voice of the colored man or woman is three-fold more powerful, richer and sweeter than that of the white, one may try to imagine the effect of nearly a thousand voices.
Commencement was held May 28, in the Friendship Baptist church. The house was filled, many standing for the nearly three hours. The singing was by a large chorus of students, trained most faithfully and successfully by the music teacher of the University, Miss Rebecca Massey. One Jubilee Song was given, "March On"; other selections were classical; the chorus from Mendelssohn's Elijah, "Thanks be to God," being especially fine. The exercises were closed by a spirited rendering of the Anvil Chorus.
Miss Massey is a native of Ohio, and a graduate of Oberlin Musical Conservatory, and is one of the most thoroughly educated musicians in the South. Recently she bought a reserved seat to Gilmore's concert in Atlanta, and in the Imperial City of the Empire State of the South, in the noble city of the reconstructed Henry W. Grady, she was marched out of the hall by a policeman, simply and solely because her blood is one-quarter colored!
The commencement essays of the thirteen young ladies would have done credit to any Northern institution; they were in good taste, thoughtful and high-toned, indicative of culture and a missionary spirit. These girls may never be famous, but they will be useful and successful, which is infinitely better.
* * * * *