The American Missionary — Volume 42, No. 12, December, 1888

by Various

The missionaries were subject to unceasing hindrances from renegade whites, who are always on the borders of civilization, and have usually been the enemies of missionaries.

But among the Cherokees no year passed without conversions. Those who appeared to the missionaries so wild and forbidding that they were received with fear, came under the gospel power and were clothed and in their right mind. In six years the Church had largely increased. Indians traveled a score of miles to attend the services. As yet, there was no Cherokee written language. This mission was eight years old when the four gospels were translated into the Cherokee tongue, and in three or four years more, one-half the nation could read. There were now among the Cherokees and the Choctaws, eighteen missionary stations.

In 1826, the Board began work among eight other tribes in different parts of the country.

It next took charge of the Stockbridge tribe, whose ancestors had enjoyed the ministry of the celebrated Dr. Jonathan Edwards. They were originally in Massachusetts. They were pushed back hundreds of miles to Central New York, then pushed further back hundreds of miles to Indiana; then pushed still further back hundreds of miles to Michigan, and finally pushed back once more and allowed to rest in the remote West—in Minnesota. During all these cruel removals, they had themselves kept alive a school, and had among them exemplary Christians. Now, after one hundred years of such history, the American Board put a mission among them. The church survived, and the whole settlement took in the spirit of civilization and took on its forms. A year later were added the missions to the Chickasaws, and now, about the close of the year 1830, it seemed as if the fruitage of this Indian missionary consecration were at hand. Half the Cherokees in Georgia could read. Civilized life had taken firm hold on them, and they were governing themselves with Christian laws. Eight churches were in life and power among them. The Chickasaws had their church in Arkansas, and the Cherokees there, another. The churches of the Choctaws had received to their communions that year two hundred and fifty members who were hopefully converted, and in all the Indian Missions of the American Board there was a steady increase of hopefulness, while the members in tribes were also increasing.

"Everywhere the fruits of the missions among the Indians were abundant. No more docile pagans were ever approached with the gospel than some of these peoples."

Nevertheless, from this period of time, Indian missions cease to be successful for a generation.

The mission to the Chickasaws was abandoned in 1834; to the Osages in 1836; to the Stockbridge tribe, in 1848; to the Choctaws, in 1859; to the Tuscaroras, in 1860; and to the Cherokees, in 1860; until at last but a single mission remained, that among the great Sioux tribes or the Dakotas. Twelve missions and forty-five churches, which reached about one hundred thousand Indians abandoned in twenty-six years!

The question now asks itself: "Why were not these hopeful missionary efforts to these pagan tribes more permanent? What turned the tide of success and left the missions stranded?" Here comes the story of dishonor. The Indian was here when the white man came. The Christian white men recognized the Indian's right of occupancy as a right. They did not hold that half a million savages had a right to dispute the ultimate sovereignty of civilization, but they agreed that when civilization should move forward and barbarism should retreat, the Indian should have Christian justice and not un-Christian wrong. He should not be oppressed. He should be treated equitably. His rights should be acknowledged, and if the demands of the greater number and the greater life asked for a surrender of his rights as original occupant, then there should be fair consideration, compensation and honesty. It may be the providence of God that barbarism shall be crowded out by civilization, that the Indian's hunting-ground shall yield to the railway and the marts of commerce. It may not be right that a continent of eight millions of square miles, more than twice the size of all Europe, fair and beautiful and rich in resources, should be kept for game preserves for half a million savages. It is right that the forest should fall to make room for New England villages, with their churches and school-houses and industry. The rude stage of existence must make way for a higher. But the higher has no right to be wicked in its onward movement. It has no right to rob or cheat. It has no right to make compacts and violate them. It has no right to break its faith with the weak. It has no right to outrage the principle of justice.

The history of Indian wrongs by the whites in the inevitable advances of civilization, need not be recited here. Unscrupulous greed has hovered about the Indian reservations as waiting buzzards hover near the wounded creature upon whose flesh they would fatten. Lands guaranteed to the Indians were encroached upon by white people. These encroachments resisted led to wars. Savage nature, wrought up with a sense of injustice and burning for revenge, swept down upon guilty intruders and innocent settlers alike, with indiscriminate massacre. Then the Government called out its soldiery, and Indian wars with less than half a million savages have cost the United States $500,000,000, enough to plant missions among all the heathen tribes of the world.

Frontiersmen who have coveted the Indian reservations, when they already had more land than they could use, without the possessions which they desired to secure, have satisfied themselves that a degraded race of savages had no rights which they were bound to respect; and how could the missionaries prosper, when the ignorant saw such exhibitions of character and life on the part of the people from whom the missionaries came? These wars have led to cancellation of treaties, because of inhuman violence, and then, the reservation taken up, the savage is removed still further back. Thus the Indians have been planted and uptorn, re-planted and uptorn, and re-planted, until they are now removed, not hundreds of miles from the grounds of their fathers, but thousands of miles. A tree will not grow if uprooted and transplanted every few months, and this will in brief tell us why the missions which began with the Moravians and the American Board, and which were so hopeful, were one after another abandoned. These constant removals were as disastrous to missions as they were unjust to the Indians. It was remarkable that there should be the degree of spiritual fruitage through all this period of Indian removals and Indian wrongs, which characterizes the labors of those who often, at peril of life, labored on for the red man's salvation.