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tween the family and the ship-wrecked a rock which overhung the sea.

man, a history of the sufferer's life, of his calamity, and the story of the fishermen were told.

The stranger was a native of Greece, whom the desire to study astronomy of a certain learned professor had allured to Italy. After remaining here for a long time, closely occupied with his studies, his health failing, he was advised to embark on an American-bound vessel. He had taken an interpreter with him on the voyage; but, when the ship was wrecked, death came to him. When he had told of his family, his circumstances and the like; when he had spoken of the fearful storm on the sea and of his delivererance, his voice could find no words to thank his kind preservers, but he said, "Because God has kept my life while all the rest have gone down, so must I live to work out his noble purposes. O, that I could help you, my friends!" Then he asked about the maiden who stood near him. She was a Jewess who, when a small child, had drifted ashore in a wild storm, in which many of the fishers, even, had perished. Probably she was the child of a banished Jew, as there were writings found tied in oil silk about her neck, which indicated this. All that she remembered was that a great storm came upon the vessel in which she was sailing. Her father and mother tied a huge basket about her, they cried a great deal; there was a great crash, and a huge billow swept over the vessel; she could recall no more. The hurricane had happened many years before, yet on its anniversary, no matter whether the weather was foul or fair, she, from a little child, had passed the day in sorrow, wandering on the coast, looking seaward as if for some expected friends, though she knew they were lost to earth forever. She had been adopted by this fisher's tamily; indeed, she was the pride of the village, its boasted beauty and its scholar. From some fancy of the village, she was called Rachel.

When the last wreck had occurred, she had watched out her sad day of the year, and when the storm came on, she still watched, praying for the souls at sea. As the night came on, she had climbed up to

Here she

sat silent, alone, with the great waters below, amidst the gathering gloom of approaching darkness, her raven locks and loosened garments lashed and torn by the mad violence of the winds. She looked far into the distance, where the wild masses of hovering clouds met the black waters. She moved not till the darkness closed thickly about her and shut out all sight of water, clouds or land. Then in that intensity of darkness, while the roar of the ocean tuned its mighty dead march, she raised her hand and arm to heaven in deepest supplication; her knees willingly sought the attitude of prayer, and with uplifted face, her eyes burning with entreaty, mutely that child of sorrow pleaded with the eternal God. In supplication her whole soul sent its sorrow to the Father. Then peace dropped quietly its heavenly garments, wrapping her in its soft folds. The prayer with murmuring died away, leaving in her soul "Thy will be done." At length she sought the fishers' hovel, and guarding her remaining strength, protecting her slender form, she nestled near the door, waiting for God's will.

Not many weeks had passed before the stranger began to talk the fishers' language which the master, with Rachel's assistance, was kindly teaching him. As the days went by, the Greek saw new and noble virtues in the Jewess. They were drawn together in sympathy of soul, of culture, and of sor

row.

Their hours were full of quiet love, of mutual desires; and, at evening, when the stars came out, when Orion looked on in glistening majesty, or when the moon silvered their path, the stranger and the beautiful orphan would walk along the shore, listening to the wavelets' music, looking on the starlit heavens, or gazing at the queen of night, while he told her of the wonders of those brilliant constellations, or said that the same beautiful luminaries shone as sweetly on his tower in the loved Italian land. Would she go with him and see them there? Thus in communion sweet, filled with holy joy, they joined soul with soul.

In the merry month of June, about the door of the village church, stood in groups,

the men,
women and children, happy
though tearful, looking towards the shore.
In the distance I saw him whom I had for-
merly known as the Stranger. He was gen-
tly leading into a light skiff the beautiful
orphan, Rachel, who, since she had learned
the Stranger's name, had loved to whisper

Philip. They were a new husband and a new wife. In the bay lay a large vessel which was to carry them to Italy — him to his tower and his noble purposes, to the fulfilment of his life's desires her to the continuance of a love which Heaven would not destroy, but which God would bless. Annie H. Ryder.

Father Marquette.

O pale young priest! whose dreamy eyes
With more than Rembrandt splendors gleam,
Standing beneath the tender skies

Of fair, soft France, dreaming thy dream!
I gaze back at thee through the years
Glorious with many a dear-bought fame,
And nowhere fall more tender tears
Than on the page which bears thy name.

I see thee in thy youth's first flush,
Full of the burning dream of fame,
Longing, adown the breathless hush

Of coming time, to hear thy name.
Aglow with all the quickening wine.

Which surges in the veins of youth,
Dazzled with splendors of the fine,

Grand dreams thou holdest for the truth.

Oh, matchless brightness of the days
E'er yet we have unlearned our dreams!
When from life's sunset side we gaze,

How fair the radiance on them gleams!
I see thee standing now amid

The fragrance of those early hopes,
While yet from thy deep eyes are hid

The sadness of life's western slopes.

And then I watch thee while the thought
Of duty slowly fills thy soul,
Till by degrees thy heart is brought

Beneath its sure, divine control.

And slowly, sadly, one by one,

Thy dreams, thy hopes before it fall,
Till the one thought,—work to be done
For God and man,-is all in all.

Across the sea it speeds thy feet,

Across the trackless western wild,
Where the rude savage, stern and fleet,

Lists to the words, so warm and mild,
Friendly and gentle, thou dost speak.

While others perish quick as thought,
They seem to read, though poor and weak,
In thee the message thou hast brought.

Around Superior's pictured rocks

They gather, listening to thy words, While far away the battle's shocks

Seem to recede, and gentler chords
Of tenderer feeling softly stir

Within each dull and savage heart.
Christ's name upon the page they blur
With tears, from founts which rarely start.

In lodges of each warlike race

I see thee welcomed with good cheer,
And many a stern and sombre face

Lights up to see and feel thee near.
Through dalles of rivers broad and deep,-
Wisconsin and the turbid Fox,-
Fearless and swift I see thee leap,
In light canoe adown the rocks.

While at thy side, like trusted friends,

The stern braves, red with war-paint, stand,

And on each hand afar extends

The savage, wild, and unknown land. Portâge, and marsh, and sandy bar,

Impede thy course and break thy track,

But onward, led as by a star,

Thou goest, never looking back.

Safely through Mississippi's waves
They lead thee on thy goodly quest,
Dotting the shore along with graves,
Where sank the bravest and the best.
O journey grand on unknown trail,

Amid a new world's darksome shades!

I picture here a Holy Grail!

And here sublimest of crusades !

Now by Lake Huron's stormy shore,
They point us to a lonely grave;

Rudely the inland sea doth roar,

Wildly the pine trees moan and wave,
And jagged rocks, flung everywhere,

Bear scant and sombre coats of moss;
No vine, no flower is swaying there,—
Nought save a moss-grown, broken cross.

Yet more than sculptured monument,

Or flower-strewn grave in Pere la Chaise,
Is that low mound, where he, content
To rest so, shines adown the ways

Of this dull age, and shows us so
A man to fill our longing eyes,
Wherein with saintly radiance glow
All beauties of self-sacrifice.

Hattie Tyng Griswold.

D

The Religion of the Freedmen.

URING the few years which have elapsed since the close of the Rebellion, the freedmen have by satisfactory experiment, so far demonstrated their capacity to learn, not only from books, but in the school of actual every-day life, as to silence skeptics North and South. As a race, they have become comparatively elevated and well-to-do, placing a much higher estimate upon culture and education than was possible immediately after their release from bondage, when they were suffering for the bare necessities of life, and naturally valued schools in proportion as they seemed auxiliaries to material good, to the acquisition of land, shelter and food. The money argument was at that time the only one which had much weight with colored parents to induce them to continue their smartest children, who could command high wages, steadily in school. The greatest incentive to scholarship, was that by learning to read, write and calculate, they would be able, at some future day, to make a "heap of money,"-perhaps by fitting themselves to become teachers; but this did not avail much. "A bird in the hand was worth two in the bush," and they could not afford to wait. So that the schools, though generally fully attended, were seldom composed of the best mate*rials.

Those friends and patrons of education at the North who continue their work among these people, being naturally brought into relation only with the progressive class, about whom they hear so much that is truly encouraging, of their enterprise in building fine churches and schools, are not in a position to understand the existing impediments to the progress of the race. They can hardly realize that the great mass of freedmen remain in the densest ignorance, in a condition not essentially changed by their new status, except so far as a sense of freedom must inevitably increase their manliness. I think it is not too much to assert, as the almost universal opinion of those who are and have been their teachers from the North, of whatever religious per

suasion, that the most formidable obstacle to the elevation of these people, and that which most adversely effects the work of education among them, is their spurious religion.

This appears to be a crude admixture of traditional superstitions and rude ceremonies transmitted from their African ancestry, modified by the religious element at the South with which they mingle,—assimilating most naturally with Baptists and Methodists.

So large a majority of these ignorant people cling tenaciously to their pagan views and usages that the more intelligent class of negroes, who have outgrown the senseless mummeries and intolerable clamor of their shouting or praise meetings, as they are called, find themselves uncomfortably situated among their kinsfolks and neighbors,-in a position somewhat like ultra reformers at the North,-when they attempt to enlighten their deluded brethren, and to lead them into a more rational mode of worship.

The manifestations in these meetings are physical. No indication of mind is visible. Negroes who evince some degree of common sense in ordinary affairs, appear to lay aside every vestige of it on entering a "praise meeting."

I have myself been present in these gatherings, and witnessed tearful contortions of features and limbs, and insane ravings accompanying them, which surged higher and higher, until they reached a climax of noise and confusion which baffles description.

One after the other they gather and crowd around the altar, forming a solid mass, then separate, and joining hands, form a ring, or perform a kind of march, one behind another, accompanying their steps now and then with a spasmodic jump, flinging up their arms, shouting, laughing, exhorting indiscriminately, rending their garments, shaking their hands, beckoning to each other with frantic gestures, all the time ejaculating vehemently, "Bress de Lord! I'se got 'ligion! See, massa Jesus! He come! Glory! Amen!" etc., all shout

ing together at the top of their lungs, until, completely exhausted, many fall prostrate upon the floor.

These meetings are frequently kept up until morning, and are habitually attended by immense crowds, not only among the most ignorant, on remote plantations and in country districts, but in the largest cities.

During the reign of slavery these meetings were never allowed to be held without some white man present to witness their proceedings, lest they should be made mediums for uniting the forces of discontent, by some leading minds among themselves. They would have been suppressed as a terror to slave-holders, had they not served as a requisite safety-valve for the emotional natures and peculiarly gregarious tendencies of their victims.

Who understood better than the Southern autocrat that if the slaves had been enlightened so far as to lay aside these worse than heathen practices, if they had been led into any coherent ideas, but once lifted from the ruts of superstition and put upon a line of improvement, however slow their diverging progress, they would inevitably move toward a goal of freedom?

Could Northern philanthropists who continue schools among the freedmen at the South, realize from their distant stand-point the baneful ignorance which religious bigotry exercises over the educational work, they could more effectually put forth a helping hand to improve matters in that direction.

Colored preachers, who imagine they have a special call for the ministry, (no matter how supremely ignorant or even vicious they may be) have an unlimited influence over their congregations, especially if they possess, as many of them do, a kind of florid garrulousness, with a streak of rude eloquence natural to the African.

In proportion as intelligence becomes disseminated, and a purer and more spiritual worship supersedes their inane ravings, jealousies on the part of these blind leaders of the blind are excited toward that enlightenment which seems to cause their waning influence, and they covertly denounce schools, sometimes lustily crying

aloud against "fooling with books," or "selling their souls to the devil for booklearning." They do not lack the discernment necessary to perceive that where schools flourish such churches as I have described cannot long be supported. The young converts belonging to night schools, who have sometimes been forbidden to absent themselves from night revival meetings on penalty of excommunication, will comprehend the enormity of these gatherings in proportion as they are taught a lifeinspiring piety.

These ignorant class-leaders and preachers have "no use," as they say, for newfangled ministers who desecrate the church and the Lord's day by preaching about lying, stealing, impurity, intemperance, idleness, wastefulness, instead of the Gospel. They do not want to have their meetin s interrupted by such "worldly matters." They want to enjoy their religion, and have a good time hearing about Jesus and the Holy Spirit, the Bible, heaven and hell, especially the latter, which forms the staple of nine-tenths of their preaching.

Yet they do not appear to think the punishment after death, which they have a peculiar genius for depicting in lurid colors, has any connection with their evil habits and “besetting sins." The great desideratum is to become converted,-which means to work themselves into such a state of exaltation as to fancy that they see visions, and dream dreams which they relate to wonder-stricken audiences, after which they join the church as a seal of their salvation. They do not appear to have the least conception of what constitutes sin or righteousness. This complete mental confusion is not to be wondered at in view of the institution of slavery, from which they graduated, and which would naturally blot out all moral distinctions.

Mr. Charles Stearns, in his book, "The Black Man of the South," tells some very amusing instances of this hallucination. On remonstrating with an old colored woman for stealing a goose, he told her she could not be a Christian and steal. "La, me!" said she, "does you think I'se gwine to gib up my Jesus for an old goose?" And on inquiring for an old preacher by the

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