But, thank God, over these dark areas of Pagan land we believe the “morning light is breaking.” Already about the Mendi country and its neighborhood there are twenty-three central mission stations, many, if not all of which are circled with tributary “out-stations,” lighting the country like a galaxy of planets and stars and suns. Here different religious societies have organized more than one hundred churches, and one hundred times as many converts, and gathered 20,000 children in its schools. To this it must be added that nearly a score of dialects have been mastered, and portions of the Scriptures printed in as many tongues; while millions of real heathen have felt the blessed influence of the Gospel. As you will see by the map, there is a belt of missions from the Senegal on the north along the coast to the mouth of the Niger, and up the Niger the native black Bishop Crowther has located nine mission stations, manned by converted heathen, who are pushing northward toward Timbuctoo, with their steamers and other facilities for extending the work.
We, of the American Missionary Association, are in the heart of this great domain. The Mendi tribe is supposed to occupy a region hundreds of miles inland, and to number two millions of souls. The work of our missionaries on that ground is fruitful of suggestions and encouragement. The faith and aspirations of all, I believe, was expressed by Mr. Anthony, a colored hero from Berea, Ky., in his letter to New York: “If you had the money I would say, send 100,000 missionaries to Africa at once.” The Freedmen are rapidly fitting themselves to go up and possess this land for Christ. Give us the money and we will send them forward.
At some of the fashionable watering-places by the shores of the sea, during the past summer, you noticed chains of electric lights illuminating the fairy-like towers and palaces and abodes of ten thousand pleasure-seekers, who, amid music and gayety and song, sported in the tide as it broke in billowy grandeur on the snowy sands; darkness was changed to day, and night abolished by the wonderful discovery of Mr. Edison. So, I think, our missionary stations in Western Africa are electric lights, dispelling the darkness and ushering in that light which is the truth and the way. Mr. Edison maintains his luminaries by batteries with positive and negative poles, two extremes operating one over against the other. Not otherwise is it with the lights of the missionary world. They must be supported by the great batteries of prayer and sacrifice. Praying and giving must be our watchword. Pray the Lord of the harvest that He send forth the laborer into His harvest, and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”