The American Missionary | Page 8

service, and several responded with
apparently as fervent "Amen" as ever came from Camp Meeting or
Altar service. Then I read passages, closing with a part of Romans 6:
from the twenty-third verse. I spoke briefly of "The wages of sin, and
of the gift of God." I almost fear I was harsh. Poor fellows--they were
criminals, but who is not guilty, before God, of violations of Divine
law?
As I pleaded for the starting of a better life, as I spoke of their families,
as I said "Some of you will be through with prison life soon," as I
talked of honesty, sobriety, and purity, there were moist eyes. I asked
for an expression at the close. All who will accept Jesus Christ, and
from this very hour live for Him, and with the strength he gives try to
forget the grievances you have thought to revenge; try to love and serve
one another here, in Christ's name, and others when released; strive to
do your work faithfully; in short, try to do what you think Christ would
want you to do--first, give me your hand, and then kneel with me in
prayer. Through the chinks and crevices of the stockade a score of men
thrust their hands, eager to respond to the invitation, and many knelt in
prayer.
How much was make-believe? How much was genuine? The Searcher
of hearts alone knows. Sowing by all waters, I am willing to leave
results with God.
Another song, and then "Good-bye, boss!" "Good-bye, Captain!"

"Come again, preacher!"
The days were weeks, and then! Criminal carelessness, perhaps. A
premature explosion of dynamite and powder combined on the railroad,
and six of these men had been discharged. Dead! A rough grave beside
the track, God knows the rest. They were convicts, they were blacks,
but they were my brothers and yours, children of one Father.
I was tired that Sunday, but I am glad God let me go and give them
another invitation to the Christ-life. Perhaps in some other time and
place I shall talk over that service among the boys in black at Convict
Camp, with a soul in white over there. Who knows?

A BRIGHT AND CANDID VIEW OF OUR MOUNTAIN WORK.
The following letter comes from a member of the "Andover Band,"
three of whom entered the work among the American Highlanders last
year. It is the first band of theological students organized in any of our
seminaries for work in the field of the American Missionary
Association. It was a very interesting movement and worthy the
seminary that has sent out bands into other parts of the country which
have accomplished great results.
The testimony is set forth by Prof. John C. Campbell, a cultured young
man, who looks on this interesting work with a fresh vision and gives
opinions well balanced respecting this field and others.
It should be said that the letter was not written for publication.

The year has been trying and wearing, but I take great satisfaction in
knowing that much has been accomplished. We have established
ourselves in the hearts of the people, I believe, and have the respect and
co-operative interest of the best men in this and adjoining counties, so I
hope for great things in the future if our friends in the North will only
help us.

Suspicion has given way to confidence, and I may even fire broadsides
at the tobacco habit now, even if it hits home. They are a trying,
promising, and loveable people. I admire those of my classmates who
have heard the voice of God (not the prompting of inclination) calling
them to remain in dear old hair-splitting New England; but, while I
admire their bravery, I am sorry for them, for it must seem as if they
were striking in the air. Here we see the enemy, and can strike directly
at him, and one has some satisfaction in getting weary and sick at heart
in fighting at great odds against a visible power instead of the more
subtle powers "of the air." But I digress! It is such a temptation to let
myself out when communicating with one who understands this
discouraging, fascinating, and encouraging work. This year's work has
given me experience, as well as gray hair, and even if my labors in the
South should terminate this year, I should feel that I had gained a great
deal. I wish that all Northerners could come to know the best element
of the South, and show their magnanimity as victors by helping the
American Missionary Association do the work which alone will make a
new South. To me the South presents a touching but heroic picture as
she struggles nobly, but somewhat uncertainly, toward the light, still
the victim of her