THE SOUTH.

ONE OF THE DEACONS.

"A short, heavy-set, black man," "A good carpenter," "A man who can turn his hand to 'most anything," "None of your trifling fellows; somebody you can depend on every time." Such are the descriptions given of Deacon Jeremiah Edwards by the people among whom the chief part of his fifty years have been passed.

"The pump is out of kilter." "So? Well, tell Jeremiah Edwards to come and doctor it up."

"There's a leak in the roof, and the tinners can't seem to find it." "I'll send Jerry 'round to attend to it."

"Can't find the key of my bureau drawer; reckon Bud or the baby has lost it; drawer locked, and not a key can I find to fit in either of the hardware stores. I never saw such a place." "Don't fret about it, Carrie, I'll send Uncle Jerry up to file off one of these keys or make a new one; and while he's here, have him repair the organ and mend the picket-fence, and set the glass in the chamber window and the back bedroom. Better let him take the umbrella to his shop and mend it, and is there anything else? Oh! those shears and the butcher-knife you've been complaining about so long; let him take them along and sharpen them up." "Do you suppose, Harry, he could do anything with the cooking-stove? There's something broken about it; I reckon it's broken, but the cook says it's burnt out. Likely she broke it, though; niggers are so careless and good-for-nothing." "Certainly, certainly. Jerry used to work in an iron-foundry; he's a regular Tubal Cain. If he can't fix anything that's made of iron or brass or wood, it can't be fixed, that's flat."

Now what would the residents of a town like Jonesboro, a town over one hundred years old, and very small of its age—what could they do in an emergency if, instead of a missing key, there should be a missing Jerry? The probabilities are that it will take something mightier than the Western fever and more powerful than Colonization projects to carry Jerry Edwards away from the snug little home that he has made for himself, his good wife Patsey, and his little granddaughter. Many a millionaire finds less satisfaction in his palatial mansion than the proprietor of that little white cottage among the trees, as he gathers fruit from his own well-kept orchard, vegetables from his prolific garden, and corn from his own field. How much sweeter music is the cackling of hens to one who has brought them up from downy chickenhood! That and the robins' songs give more pleasure at the cottage than would the notes of imprisoned canaries.

A horse that "knows more than some people," cows that show generous keeping, and the "prettiest pigs you ever saw" are some of the adjuncts of the Edwards establishment. A pig is not pretty? Own the pig—own the pig and watch him as he grows ripe for the pork barrel. Everybody's pig, like everybody's baby, is prettier than anybody's.

"Let everybody go West that wants to," says Jerry Edwards, "and let them that want to be Africans go to Africa. I'm an American, and I shall stay right here the balance of my days. If I couldn't make a living here, I should be striking out after work, but I don't need to go anywhere to hunt work; work is hunting for me all the time." And so it is.

Speaking in the Literary Society on the relative merits of trades and the learned professions, he said, "Everybody ought to work with his hands that can't work with his head. Now, some try to work with their heads when they'd be doing a good deal better for themselves and everybody else if they'd just go to work with their hands. Now, I couldn't make a living by headwork if I wanted to. I don't know how it would have been if I'd had a chance for an education when I was young. I never went to school a day in my life except Sunday-school. What little knowledge I have of reading and writing is just picked up. Because I've got along without an education, I don't think everybody else ought to do the same. I'd have got along better if I'd had more. I feel as if I am crippled by the want of it, and am just crutching along. Young men, get all the education you can, but at the same time remember that it's a good thing to have a trade to fall back upon."

In the ante-bellum days, that compound of muscle and will and honesty and skill now known as Deacon Edwards, used to bring home to his master a twenty-dollar gold piece weekly, earned in the foundry where he was hired out without being a party to the contract. His master had a large family, and gave to each of his children a college education. If the earnings of Jerry and his fellow-servants did not suffice to pay bills, a boy or girl (and colored men and women were always boys and girls with their masters) would be sold. The "boy" to whom he gave two trades, although by no means rich, is in better circumstances than any of the sons whose education was paid for by the sweat of dusky brows mingled with countless tears and bitter heart-burnings.

That humorous philosopher, Josh Billings, says, "You never saw a self-made man but what was mighty proud of his job." If any self-made man has a right to be proud, it is he who, having been held as a chattel, has compelled all who know him to admit that he possesses honesty, good sense, moral courage and everything that goes to make up a true man.

Four years ago Jerry Edwards was elected School Commissioner, and served in that capacity for three years. He was the first and only colored man who has ever filled that position in his district, and was elected by an unusually large majority in a place where colored men are greatly in the minority. But he has won victories greater than this—victories over self in breaking the chains of appetite and long-established habit. Eight years ago a temperance society was organized here. "Before that time," says he, "I never heard, and it had never entered my head, that there could be any harm in drinking so long as a man didn't get drunk." He attended the meetings, listened attentively, but did not take the pledge for a long time. At first he argued for the moderate use of stimulants, the harmlessness of pure wine, etc., but yielded point by point to repeated assaults in a war of friendly words.

He had a fine vineyard, made wine, drank it, sold it, and gave it to his friends. There was no market for grapes—what should he do with his vineyard? He feared he could not abstain wholly, and tried total abstinence for several months before venturing to pledge himself to it publicly, "Don't think," said he, during his voluntary probation, "that I don't appreciate what you say, nor that I am not as good a friend to you as anybody in the Temperance Society." We had had some persecutions. "I'll be with you in six troubles," said he. "Ah! yes, Mr. Edwards," said I, "you will, and have been already: but in the seventh trouble, the temperance trouble, there you leave me to fight the battle alone." That was an unmerciful sword-thrust when he was having a harder battle than I, his foes being within and mine without—his enemies being appetite and love of gain, mine principally ignorance and prejudice. Not long after this he joined the temperance society, and now sells or gives away grapes instead of wine.

Over a year ago he resolved that he would no longer be a bond-slave to that bewitching weed whose use civilized men learned from savages. For more than forty years he had used tobacco, having begun at the early age of seven years. A poor kind of candy to reward a good boy with, certainly. It was no easy thing for the veteran smoker and chewer to bid good-bye to pipe and quid, but for fourteen months he has successfully resisted the temptation to defile himself with the unclean thing, although he has craved it every day.

"I know there's differences in religion," said Haley, the trader. "Some kinds is mis'rable. There's your meetin' pious; there's your singin' roarin' pious; them ar ain't no account in black or white; but these rayly is; and I've seen it in niggers as often as any: your rail softly quiet, stiddy, honest pious that the hull world couldn't tempt 'em to do nothing that they thinks is wrong." The "roarin' pious" never give up the use of tobacco; it takes the "stiddy, honest pious" to do that. If you are going to build a church and want solid deacon timber, take the last sort.

JELLICO, TENN.

In this field the harvest is truly ripe. A few days since I was called to the bedside of a young man who it was thought was dying or would soon die. He said he was unsaved. I said to him, "Do you believe in Christ?" "I do not know whether I do or not." "Well," I said, "you believe Jesus died to save you?" "I don't know anything at all of him. I never read the Bible a minute in my life. I never went to church in my life. Oh, pray for me that my soul may not be lost." I sat down on the side of his bed and told him of man's fall, of God's loving kindness, of our redemption through Christ, and that whosoever believeth on the Son hath everlasting life, and that whosoever will may come. He accepted the truth, is happy and is recovering health, and will through God's grace be an efficient worker in the vineyard.

AMONG THE CHURCHES OF MAINE.

I have just returned from a very pleasant campaign among the churches of Maine, in the interest of the A. M. A. I visited and addressed meetings in thirty-one different places. At Old Orchard, in connection with the fourth annual meeting of the Young People's Society of Christian Endeavor, I had the pleasure of meeting representatives from all parts of New England and many of the Western States.

At New Gloucester I met one of our lady missionaries, Miss Mary Lunt, whose labor of love at Selma, Ala., is the crown of rejoicing to the Ladies' Missionary Society of Maine. At Gorham, the home of Governor Robie, I spoke to two large audiences, the Governor and the editor of one of the leading papers of Georgia being present.

During my stay at Augusta I called to pay my respects to the Hon. J. G. Blaine. Mr. Blaine inquired after the welfare of the A. M. A., and manifested deep interest in the education of the freedmen in the South. After a pleasant interview he went to his desk and returned with his check as a donation to our work.

Being in Lewiston during the memorial service of General Grant, I joined the great assembly in paying grateful and heartfelt respect to the hero of Appomattox. Senator Frye gave a stirring account of the great commander's career and an able analysis of the General's character.

In all the places I visited I found the churches and pastors deeply interested in our cause, and especially pleased to receive fresh news from the field of the grand work of the A. M. A.

I wish to express my grateful appreciation to the churches, pastors and friends of the Pine Tree State for their cordial welcome, kind hospitality and generous response to our appeal in behalf of the pressing needs of the A. M. A.

THE REASON WHY.

In the December number of the American Missionary an article published contained the following incident.

The First Louisiana Regiment of colored soldiers, recruited in New Orleans, was about to take its departure for the front. The colonel, who for some reason could not accompany his men, presented the regimental flags to the color-sergeant. After a brief speech, full of patriotic feeling, he concluded with these words: "Color-guard, protect, defend, die for, but do not surrender these flags." The sergeant, upon receiving them, made this simple but noble response: "Colonel, I will bring back these colors to you in honor or report to God the reason why." And when, a few days afterward, during an assault on Port Hudson, he fell defending the flag and his dying blood crimsoned its folds, another took his place and saved it from falling into the hands of the enemy. The brave standard-bearer kept his word, and in failing to return the colors to the hands that had committed them to his care, he "reported to God the reason why."

It is the eve of battle;
The soldiers are in line;
The roll of drum and bugle's blast
Marshal that army fine.

The hour is fraught with mystery—
A hush pervades that throng,
And each one thinks of home and friends,
And says at heart, "How long?"

The colonel rides before his men,
His thoughtful brow is bare;
He calls the color-sergeant,
And tenders to his care

The nation's pride, the dear old flag—
The loved red, white and blue,
And says, with earnest tones and grave:
"I intrust this now to you.

"Yes, color-bearer, take in charge
Your country's flag to-day,
And to the conflict bear it—
The thickest of the fray.

"Bear it with lofty courage,
And to it faithful be;
This flag has inspired thousands,
And led to victory.

"Take it and never leave it,
'Tis a solemn charge to thee;
Bring back to me this banner,
This ensign of the free!"

"Colonel," the color-sergeant said,
Holding the flag on high,
"I'll bring it back or else report
To God the reason why!"

Away to the front he bears it.
Cheered on by comrades brave,
Anxious to liberate his race,
Bring freedom to the slave.

They charge upon Port Hudson,
Where, sheltered by a wall,
The foemen cut them down like grass.
They bravely charge—but fall.

Yes, on that field, where thousands
Unheeding the tumult lie,
He left the flag, reporting
To God the reason why.

Another bears that flag along,
Holding it proud and high:
But the sergeant has reported
To God the reason why.

Oh, Christian soldier, going forth
To battle for the Lord,
Be filled with manly courage,
And proudly hear God's word.

It is the standard of your King,
Who rules the earth and sky;
You must win, through it, the vict'ry
Or tell Christ the reason why.

The war will soon be ended;
In the dust you soon will lie;
Go forth and conquer, or report
To God the reason why.

THE CHINESE.

HOW WE TRAIN THE CHINESE FOR PREACHING.

The one aim and object of our schools is to show the way of life and salvation; so we mix in Bible truth with all our teaching. In all our school-rooms are charts, upon which are printed, in large type, selected passages of Scripture. Some of these texts are read each evening by the school in concert. The helper explains the meaning in Chinese and makes a short practical application of the central truth. Our hymns are gospel hymns, carefully selected, we have prayer both in English and Chinese, and each session of school is closed by the whole school repeating in concert the Lord's Prayer, first in English, then in Chinese. So the work of a helper is largely the teaching of religious truth, and is of great practical benefit in preparing him for preaching.

Besides this drill, we have a class especially for the helpers, a teacher spending two hours a day, for five days in a week, with them. They study reading, spelling—paying particular attention to the meaning of the words—grammar, especially the construction of sentences; with a little history and arithmetic, as there is time for them. But the study of all studies is the Bible; a large part of the time each day is spent in studying it, chapter by chapter and verse by verse, and the end of all study, reading, spelling or whatever it may be, is to understand the Bible, and to be able to explain it to others.

Their pastor, Mr. Pond, gives them one afternoon of each week, spending two or three hours in exclusive Bible study. Two or three chapters are assigned them for study the previous week, and these chapters are carefully reviewed. They bring up anything that has perplexed them, any truth that they do not quite understand, and he makes the meaning as clear as possible. Each one is expected to bring in a sermon from a text given him the previous week. This sermon he reads himself to his pastor, who makes such remarks and suggestions as he thinks may be helpful. The sermons are prepared in this way: The day teacher explains the meaning of the text and the practical lessons it teaches, parallel passages are read that will bring the meaning into clearer view, and it is talked over, so that each one may have a definite idea of what is expected of him. Those who have not had much practice in sermonizing first make a rough copy in pencil, which is corrected by the teacher, after which it is carefully written out with a pen.

We have among our helpers one whose sermons, in their clear insight into the very heart and spirit of the Gospel, in their depth of thought, in their originality of expression and their logical connection, would do credit to a graduate of a theological seminary. Indeed, many a graduate has written worse sermons. One of our class has a sparkling vivacity of expression; his points are pointed, and his illustrations are frequently apt and telling. One of our helpers some time since was highly educated in Chinese. He had a great reverence for Confucius, having carefully studied his writings, committing large portions of them to memory, as is the custom among Chinese scholars. He once made this comparison between Confucius and Jesus. He said: "They are like two bridges. They are both noble structures. You admire the strength of the timbers and the way in which they are framed together, forming the solid foundation and the graceful arch rising above it. You walk on the bridge of Confucius; it is all right till you come to the river of death; then you see the black waters rolling before you—and there is no plank on which you may cross to the shore beyond. Jesus Christ is a completed bridge, over which you may safely pass to the Heavenly home, and to the mansion He has prepared for your eternal habitation."

We do not attempt to teach them any abstruse system of theology; we bring before their minds Jesus Christ, the Son of God and the Saviour of men. This text comes up more frequently than any other in their sermons: "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life!" We tell them of his pure sinless life; how He went about healing and helping the bodies and the souls of men; how He willingly, gladly died upon the cross that He might bring salvation near, and how He rose from the dead in victory over death and hell; that He now lives in Heaven; that He hears even our whispered prayers, and that He will give His spirit to them whose hearts are open to receive it; that if we would be His disciples we must have His spirit—we must be like Him.

The work is not our own; it is God's work; and we use not our own, words, but God's words, relying upon the promise, "My word shall not return to me void." We have faith to believe that China shall become a Christian nation, whose God is the Lord, and that the Chinese trained in our schools have an important work to do in bringing it to pass. With this faith we work and pray, and we believe that God's blessing is upon us. A Chinaman knows how to read the hearts of his countrymen as one not of them cannot learn to do. If he has a clear knowledge of Gospel truth, and is filled with the Spirit, he can go back to his native land ready for immediate service. A foreigner must spend years in learning a difficult language, and in studying the manners, customs and hearts of a puzzling people. The native knows his people; a very great advantage in his favor. Some of our number are now in China doing good work for the Master. Each year more and more will return; we wish them to be fully armed and equipped for effective service. The Gospel day has already dawned upon portions of that dark land. May it grow brighter and brighter till it reaches its full meridian, making every nook and corner luminous, and sending warmth and glow into every home and heart in that vast empire.

A CHINESE VIEW OF THE STATUE OF LIBERTY.

Sir: A paper was presented to me yesterday for inspection, and I found it to be specially drawn up for subscription among my countrymen toward the Pedestal Fund of the Bartholdi Statue of Liberty. Seeing that the heading is an appeal to American citizens, to their love of country and liberty, I feel that my countrymen and myself are honored in being thus appealed to as citizens in the cause of liberty. But the word liberty makes me think of the fact that this country is the land of liberty for men of all nations except the Chinese. I consider it as an insult to us Chinese to call on us to contribute toward building in this land a pedestal for a statue of Liberty. That statue represents Liberty holding a torch which lights the passage of those of all nations who come into this country. But are the Chinese allowed to come? As for the Chinese who are here, are they allowed to enjoy liberty as men of all other nationalities enjoy it? Are they allowed to go about everywhere free from the insults, abuse, assaults, wrongs and injuries from which men of other nationalities are free?

If there be a Chinaman who came to this country when a lad, who has passed through an American institution of learning of the highest grade, who has so fallen in love with American manners and ideas that he desires to make his home in this land, and who, seeing that his countrymen demand one of their own number to be their legal adviser, representative, advocate and protector, desires to study law, can he be a lawyer? By the law of this nation, he, being a Chinaman, cannot become a citizen, and consequently cannot be a lawyer.

And this statue of Liberty is a gift to a people from another people who do not love or value liberty for the Chinese. Are not the Annamese and Tonquinese Chinese, to whom liberty is as dear as to the French? What right have the French to deprive them of their liberty?

Whether this statute against the Chinese or the statue to Liberty will be the more lasting monument to tell future ages of the liberty and greatness of this country, will be known only to future generations.

Liberty, we Chinese do love and adore thee; but let not those who deny thee to us, make of thee a graven image and invite us to bow down to it.

New York Sun. Saum Song Bo.

BUREAU OF WOMAN'S WORK.

ILLINOIS WOMAN'S HOME MISSIONARY UNION.

This society, organized at the last meeting of the General Association at Rockford, is getting under way. Its President is Mrs. A. E. Arnold, of Stillman Valley; its Secretary, Mrs. J. H. Dixon, of Chebanse; its Treasurer, Mrs. E. F. Williams, 4,018 Drexel Boul., Chicago. Its Executive Committee consists of one lady in each of the dozen district associations. That committee has had a business meeting in Chicago. It is providing for the organization of the ladies in all of the associations of the State. Forty of these unions have been organized in as many local churches. The object of the State Union is to aid the A. H. M. S., the A. M. A. and N. W. E. C., A. C. U. and S. S. P. S. Such unions as desire may also embrace the work of foreign missions. As the State body absorbs the work of the former A. M. A. committee, it has also assumed the support of the same special missionaries under the American Missionary Association.

The President and the Secretary have just issued a small folio giving the officers of the Union, the constitution of the State body, and a proposed constitution of an auxiliary. The folio, besides a fresh letter representing each of three of the home mission societies, presents a stirring appeal to the more than 15,000 women in the Congregational churches of Illinois. We quote that part which refers to our work, giving our new associate a hearty welcome and a Godspeed in the blessed work it has undertaken:

The Woman's Home Missionary Union includes not only home missions as represented by the American Home Missionary Society and its Auxiliaries, but all the other great societies which act as the almoners of the gifts from our churches for missionary work in this country. It is eminently appropriate that the work of the new society should include that of the American Missionary Association.

In every Southern State, in the cabins of the freedmen, in the halls of its institutions of learning, are to be found the A. M. A. teachers. Ladies of culture and refinement go from high social circles in the North to endure social ostracism in the South. During its twenty years of existence more than three thousand women have been in this service. Patiently they have toiled, never faltering when their homes and school-houses were burned over their heads, and have endured with Christian fortitude trials that might well have crushed their brave hearts.

Our dark-faced sisters of the South to-day plead with us for love and sympathy, and for the boon of education. Men, both white and black, look upon them in precisely the same light as Turks and Hindoos regard the women of the Orient. The curse of slavery is still upon them. Is it not woman's work for woman to carry the Gospel of Christ to these despised ones? Equally pressing in kind, if not in degree, is the work among the Indians and Chinese, also carried on by the A. M. A. The work by women for women is especially emphasized by its "Woman's Bureau," which is giving efficient aid to the Society in "letting Christ shine among the oppressed and degraded of the sons and daughters of men."

CHILDREN'S PAGE.

SHOEBLACK JIM.

In a small, crowded room in one of the rear tenement houses of our great city, where the sun's rays were never known to shine, or the fresh air allowed to penetrate, our little Jim lay dying.

Months before, I one morning saw him standing on a street corner, with his shoe box strapped to his back, calling out in tremulous tones, "Shine, sir?" But the hurrying business men paid little or no attention to the pleading voice or frail form which was swayed to and fro by the bitter, biting December wind. As I handed him a picture paper, I asked, "Are you hungry, my boy?" I noticed the pale, pinched cheeks and the large brown eyes fast filling with tears as he replied, "Yes, miss. I've had nothing to eat since yesterday morning; but granny is worse than me; fur she's had nothing but a cold tater since day 'fore yesterday."

"And who is granny?"

"She lives in the rear alley on Mott; me own mother died over on the island, so granny says, and I guess I never had any father."

"Did you ever go to a Sunday-school or Band of Hope meeting?"

"Laws, no, miss! I've no time. I has to stan' around all day, and then sometimes gits only a couple of shines. Them Italian fellers, with the chairs, takes all the profit of us chaps. Granny says 'tis a hard world."

I handed the child a dime, and told him to get a warm cup of coffee and a roll; then got from him a promise to attend the Band of Hope meeting that afternoon at four o'clock. I hardly expected to meet him again, but was happily surprised to see him walk in,—shoe-box on his back,—while we were singing,—"Fold me to thy bosom." I shall never forget the expression that was on his face as he stood spell-bound in the middle of the floor, and stared at me and the organ. I motioned him to a seat, and he did not move till the music had ceased and the other children were all seated.

My lesson that day was about the great Shepherd that goes out upon the hills and mountains of sin and gathers in the little lambs that wander away from the sheepfold. I did not know, that day, that the dear Saviour's hand was already stretched out to receive this one little lamb that had many times, young as he was, been found tipsy, and also smoking cigarettes that he had stolen from somebody's street stand.

He was a regular attendant at Sunday-school and Band of Hope, and no one joined more heartily in the singing than "Jim." One day, in our children's prayer-meeting, he gave his heart to Jesus. No one could doubt the conversion of that little heart when they looked into the bright eyes and beaming face that continually shone with heavenly light.

One day a messenger came to me in haste and said, "Jim is dying. Hurry, please, miss; he wants to see you agin afore he dies." I hurried; and as I groped my way along the dark alley and up the rickety stairs, I caught the sound of the sweet voice singing "Fold me, fold me, precious Saviour." I entered quietly, so as not to disturb the singer, but his bright eyes saw me, and he said, "Sing it with me once more, teacher." We sang it through together, then he said, "The next time I sing will be when Jesus folds me in His arms. I'll never forget the hymn, but will remember it till you come up there too; then we'll sing it again."

The little lamp of life went out. The great Shepherd had called His little lamb home. There was

"Another gem in the Saviour's crown,
Another soul in heaven."

RECEIPTS FOR AUGUST, 1885.