An Earnest Appeal by First Fruits Press

THE WORKS OF JAMES MILBURN TAYLOR

An Earnest Appeal

JAMES M. TAYLOR

AN EARNEST APPEAL

BY MRS. JAMES M.TAYLOR

ISBN: 9781648172960

An earnest appeal

Mrs. James M Taylor

Digital version at http://place.asburyseminary.edu/firstfruitsheritagematerial/5/

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Taylor, James M., Mrs.

Reprint. Previously published: Louisville, KY: Pentecostal Publishing Company, [1912]

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1. Missions Theory. I. Title.

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AN EARNEST APPEAL

BY MRS.JAMESM.TAYLOR

Missionary

BY Mrs. James M. Taylor Missionary

Paper binding. 10 cents; twelve copies for $1.00

INTRODUCTION.

After reading my wife's address and hearing her give it at the Holston Conference of the Meth9dist Episcopal Church, I felt that the way the people, both pastors and women, were stirred, it should be put in print, in order that, instead of a few hundred being stirred and helped, thousands might be touched and women arise to the strength of their ability in helping their less fortunate sisters across the sea. If the book helps you, will you not at least drop the author a card, or order one sent to a friend Y March 7, 1912. At Home. James M. Taylor.

An Earnest Appeal.

PART I.

'' For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost."

"God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.''

God only had one Son, and He was a missionary.

Christ was a home missionary in the house of Lazarus; He was a foreign missionary when the Greeks came to Him; He was a city missionary when He taught in Samaria; He was a Sunday-school missionary when He opened up the Scriptures, and set men to studying the Word of God; He was a children's missionary when He took them in His arms and l)lessed them; He was a missionary to the poor when He opened the eyes of the blind beggar; He was a missionary to the rich when He opened the spiritual eyes of Zacchreus. Even on the cross, Christ was a missionary to the robber, and His last command was the missionary commission, '' Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature.'' Those last words, how they ring

An Earnest Appeai.

in our ears, and linger in our hearts, and grip our consciences! GET, GO, GIVE, are the three great words that indicate the Christian's duties. Get right with God, go to the whole world, and give the Gospel to every creature.

In no sense is missionary enterprise a phase of Christianity. It is Christianity itself.

It has been well said, ''What are churches for but to make missionaries Y What is education for but to train them Y What is commerce for put to carry them? What is money for but to send them? What is life itself for, but to fulfill the purpose of Foreign Missions, enthroning Jesus Christ in the hearts of men?''

We are then to go out and seek the lost. The word ''lost'' has a strange and often, if personally connected without love, an awful effect on us. Lost! lost! every letter is dripp1ng with blood!

What is it that is lost Y A few years ago, the entire civilized world sympathized with a man who was ready to spend everything he possessed seeking for his little lost boy, while the mothers and fathers of this continent looked into the faces of their own boys and girls and, with eyes swimming in grateful tears, thanked God for their own children, safe at home.

It is not one boy who is lost, but a world swinging in open space somewhere among the planets; containing millions of boys and girls, of men and women for whom Christ died, who are bleeding, crying and dying for light, for love, and for life. And the Savior turns His eyes toward His Church with a heart-breaking entreaty, pleading with us to go, to seek and save the

lost. If the Church does not do it, it will never be done.

The late Horace Mann, the eminr-nt educator, delivered an address at the opening of 'nme reformatory institution for boys, during which he remarked that, if only one boy was saved from ruin, it would pay for all the cost and care and labor of establishing such an institution as that. After the exercises Mr. Mann was asked, "Did you not color that a little, when you said that all that expense and labor would be repaiJ if it only saved one boy?''

''Not if it was my boy,'' was the solemn and convincing reply.

Which are the most precious to God, yours and mine, growing up in the light and love of Christian homes, or those growing up in ever-increasing darkness?

"Once in awhile," says Jacob Riis, "I hear someone growl against Foreign Missions because the money and strength put into them are needed at home. I did it myself wl\en I did not know better. God forgive me! I know better now, and will tell you how I found it out. I became interested in a strong religious awakening in my old city of Copenhagen, and set about investigating it. It was then I learned what others had learned before me, that, for every dollar you give away to convert the heathen world, God gives you $10.00 worth of purpose to deal with your heathen at home.''

The world lies at our feet like a weary, famishing

An Marnest Appeal.

child, longing, praying that we might give it even the crumbs that fall from our Master's table.

John R. Mott says, '' There is no one thing which would do so much to promote the work on behalf of the cities and neglected country districts of the homelands as a vast enlargement of our foreign missionary operations."

One hundred years ago, a denomination, which we all respect and love very much, split on the subject of missions. From 1800 to 1890 the missionary branch of that church increased from almost none to three million, while the anti-missionary branch decreased from nearly 105,000 to 45,000.

We can hardly reconcile the idea of a Christian who is not a missionary Christian. We challenge contradiction when we say that if we did more abroad there would be less to do at home.

If God tells us to go to the heathen, we cannot disobey Him without impoverishing ourselves.

Work at home carried on to the neglect of the work abroad is weakness and not strength.

The best thing we can do for our beloved church, our own beloved land, is to obey God. Not until we do obey Him will we see the showers of blessing at home for which we are so earnestly pleading and working.

We hear our "plenty-to-do-at-home" folks talk about our home heathen, but they are not heathen. You know something about them; they are indifferent, godless and wicked, more wicked than many heathen whom I have seen, but they are not heathen.

An Earnest Appeal. 5

Bring in here to-day some of the worst, most heathenish people you can find anywhere in our homeland and mention the word Jesus. Do you mean to tell me they will not know in the least what you are talking about Y Our "home heathen," when they pass a church and hear the bell ringing, do they look up and gaze and wonder, "What is this big building, and what are the bells ringing for? '' Y

Here, there is a Savior for the wickedest people, and they know it. There, there is no Savior for anybody that they know of. Here, they can hear if they will. There, they cannot hear. Here, they do not worship sticks, mud and stones as they do there.

Supposing this were a heathen country, as it might have been if St. Augustine and others had talked about their heathen at home. Why should thousands of Christians stay in this one tiny corner, and only units go to the vast other regions of God's world Y

Suppose we ask ourselves the question, Why should I stay here?

Whoever heard of a minister in charge of a large church locating himself and all his workers in one street, and neglecting all the rest, his excuse being that he had plenty to do with the wicked people still left in the one street near his own door-he coula not be expected to concern himself about the others Y What would you say of such a man Y

An epidemic is raging. In one single city there are one thousand medical men who possess an infallible remedy. We employ them to go throughout the land. offering the medicine to every one who will talrn it.

An Earnest Appeal.

It is not long until we find thousands dying all over the country without even having heard of the medicine. We search and find 999 out of the thousand stopping in that one city; four or five doctors in some cases attending one sick person, while the others are sitting at home doing nothing because they have not had a '' special call'' to go. You get your breath and begin to inquire what this means, when you are told not to be disturbed: "We have not succeeded in forcing the medicine down the throats of all the people here yet.''

If you were walking along the seashore and saw, at one point, a man struggling in the water, and ten men working to save him; and at another point, ten men struggling in the water and no one trying to save them, you would not be in doubt as to where you were needed, but would hasten to the point where the need was the greatest, and the workers fewest. This is the situation with regard to Foreign Missions. Truly, if we were awake, we would have fewer problems and more power at home.

More missionaries are needed everywhere. Only a handful is at work abroad and still we hear people say, ''Isn't the world converted yet?'' There is something wrong when the Church, nineteen centuries after the tragedy of Calvary, can look into the face of more than 800,000,000 who have not heard of it; when Christians give so meagerly that it requires 6,000 to support one missionary. Robert Speer says there were 12,000 churches in America that did not give one cent to missions last year. All the churches of the world give less

in one year for missions than the theatres of New York City alone take in. The jewels belonging to professed Christians would send an evangel to every nook and corner of the world. The average gift of each churchmember for Foreign Missions is about forty cents per year, or one-ninth of a cent per day.

The luxuries from our work at home would evangelize the world in a few years.

Have you ever stopped to think that, if you were to take all the churches from Maine to California and crowd into them all the people who kn~ not Christ, and give them one service, it would take five years for all the churches in America to hold the heathen world once, and give them just one chance to hear the story of salvation Y

If our daily papers gave a true report of things as they really are, every morning we would read that 100,000 heathen had been swept into eternity. While I am speaking to you, 1,000 idolaters drift beyond the reach of the Gospel every quarter of an hour; just think, in less time than it took to make your toilet this mor11:ng; less time than you spend over your morning mea I !

Am I radical when I say that heathendom ought to have two-thirds of our effort Y

We spend 96 cents at home and send 4 cents to the foreign field.

Out of 100,000 church-members in America, 21 go to the foreign field.

We send one missionary to 250,000 heathen aud kf'ep one minister to 514 at home.

One physician for a city the size of Chicago, or

14 to the whole United States, is about the proportion we give them. Yet Christian America spends annually $78,000,000 for. candy and $320,000,000 for soda water, while the churches of the world give one four-thousandth of their estimated wealth to missions, or one dollar out of every $4,000. Surely John R. Mott uttered a great truth when he said, "A programme literally world wide is indispensable to enrich and complete the Church.''

My heart cries out in agony of despair, as I hear the missionaries on different fields say, '' Oh, if we could only have NOW all the workers you will send us for the next ten years !''

As I speak to you this afternoon, I can see the temples and idols visited personally, which tell of the struggle of lost souls and wandering prodigals trying to get back to the Father's .house.

• How well I remember one day in a South American city! The room in which we were receiving visitors was crowded from morning until night. One ola man, who somehow had a vague, misty idea of Jesus, had learned of the missionaries who had come from God's country, and walked twenty miles, either under a tropical sun or through a South American swamp, to beg for a Bible, and had to be turned away because there were no more. As we looked into his face, wrinkled with age, and beheld the whitened hair and stooped form, we said, '' How long, 0 Lord, how long, until the dear ones at home who do love Thee will learn to do without just the things they do not need, in onlrr to help such as these?"

Recently a missionary went to a village in India where the message had never been heard. The people sat listening intently. They asked him again and again to repeat the story. One man said, "It is all so new to us, and we are so slow to u::iderstand. '' When the missionary had gone on his way, he was overtaken by a messenger inquiring how long it had been since Jesus had died, one year or two years? We do not wonder that the missionary was ashamed to tell him 1900 years had elapsed since God had given His Son for them, and they did not know it yet.

Thank God, there is a moving in the tops of the mulberry-trees, and an awakening on the subject of missions, unknown in the history of Christianity. There are not many real Christians to-day who can quiet their consciences with excuses, and remain inactive. Never, in all the Christian history of the world, was there so much missionary fervor as there is at the present time, and never were the gifts to missionary societies so large as now. The scoffer at missions is being silenced.

Not quite a century ago, when young William Carey proposed to a Baptist assembly the duty of preaching the Gospel to the heathen, the aged president sprang to his feet in high displeasure, and shouted: "Young man, sit down! When God pleases to convert the world, He will do it without your aid or mine." And when Carey notified his father that he was going to India to carry the Gospel to the heathen, he was met with the exclamation, "William, are you mad?" Tha.ak God, that day is passed.

An Earnest Appeal.

When Carey went out to India, and Judson followed, practically all the world was closed to foreign missionaries. Now, practically all the world is open to them. One hundred years ago not an open door; today not a closed door.

Fifty years ago $18,000,000 for Foreign Missions would have seemed like a section from a fairy tale. While we must grant that the Church of Christ has been shamefully slow in awaking to its missionary duty, and must acknowledge that it is yet only half awake, we have much to be thankful for. Only half a century has Christianity been at all in earnest in this matter, and when we see how much has been accomplished in so little time, we take courage and renew our efforts.

More than seventy years ago th~ government of England paid 20,000,000 pounds (nearly a hundred million dollars), to obtain the emancipation of the slaves in the West Indies. The day of the emancipation was fixed for July 31, 1838. You may be sure it was a memorable one in the history of the inhabitants of Jamaica. No less than 14,000 adult slaves and 5,000 children were assembled together in one particular place waiting for the midnight hour to come. That was the night that was "to end their slavery and begin liberty. In anticipation of the event, some of the slaves who were carpenters had made a large mahogany coffin, into which they crowded whips, branding irons, torture irons, fragments of the treadmill, and other relics of their slavery. They dug a deep grave, and placed the coffin alongside. When

the midnight hour came, in the midst of inte:ise excitment, they lowered the coffin, and William Knibb, one of their ministers, as twelve o'clock chimed, cried out, '' The monster is dying,'' and as the last stroke sounded, he exclaimed in triumph, '' The monster is dead, let us bury him out of our sight forever!'' and they lowered the coffin and filled in the grave. Then this great throng of nearly 20,000 souls lifted up their voices and sang the Doxology with all their heart, and praised God aloud for their liberty.

Jesus Christ brought to womankind emancipation from a bondage far more cruel than ever the West Indian slaves experienced. We owe Him an incalculable debt. His birth marks a turning-point in our history. Hitherto, as in heathen countries to-day, woman had been the victim of man's caprice, lust, scorn and tyranny. A Jewish morning prayer presscribed that a man should bless God for three things; that he was not born a Gentile, a slave, or a woman.

Thank God, to-day, wherever Jesus Christ is best known, there woman is most honored. We cannot afford to fail HimJ neither do we intend to do so.

During the Civil War, women had great respo:asibilities thrust upon them, and in bearing them had grown strong. Everywhere they were asking, "Lord, ..what wilt thou have me do?'' Swiftly came the command and the promise, '' Go ye into all the world.'' ''Lo I am with you.''

The Woman's Union Missionary Society was launched by those ine~perienced in public affairs, opposed by the clergy, and without financial backing.

12

An Earnest Appeal.

But the prayers of those saintly women are being answered, and to-day salvation is being carried to the uttermost parts of the earth. We are rejoiced to see what God can do through women whose lives are dedicated to His service. This first body of women is now represented by 57,433 foreign missionary societies, organized into denominational boards in the United States and Canada, which last year, the year of our Jubilee, raised and dispersed four million dollars. Neither do we expect to fall below four-milliondollar business in the future.

"You talk about a woman's sphere, as though jt had a limit; 'l'here 's not a place in earth or Heaven. There's not a task to mankind given; There's not a blessing or a woe; There's not a whisper 'Yes' or 'No;' There's not a life, a death, a birth; There's not a feather's weight of worth Without a woman in it."

In the Methodist Episcopal Church there are eight benevolent societies: Foreign Missionary Board; Home Missions and Church Extension; Board of Education; Board of Conference Claimanfa; Board of Freedmen's Aid; Board of Sunday-schools; Woman's Home Missionary Society, and the Woman's Foreign Missionary Society.

These general boards are managed as few great business enterprises are. There are two and three executive officers, strong men. Each has a board of managers, composed of the ablest business men in Methodism, together with the bishops and other talented ministers. In all our congregations; not only the

strong ones, but the weak ones as well, these regular benevolences are given the right of way, and large public collections are taken. The bishop, with all of his influence and power, is back of the presiding elder. The elder keeps his cudgel drawn on the pastors. Together they secure the best talent in Methodism from our colleges, universities and pulpits, and through the influence of their mighty appeals it is not uncommon for a wealthy layman to write out a check amounting to thousands of ,dollars. To these various offerings the women of the church also contribute their full share.

Certainly we are proud of the magnificent achieve" tu.ents of our husbands and fathers. We expect them to do large things, and love and admire them for it.

The two women's societies are managed entirely by women. They are not granted the privilege of public offerings, but gather up the dimes, nickels and pennies, and use little mite-boxes that are opened once a year. (Imagine a man using a mite-box!)

Now then we will compare totals, and find that onlY. two of these boards raise inore money annually than these two women's societies. Four of them are behind the Woman's Foreign Missionary Society with its three-quarters of a million annually, and the Woman's Home Missionary Society 'with its two-thirds of a million.

We are working in the beautiful symmetry of God's plan for the world. The Home Missionary Society begins in our own land, gathers up the foreigners on our shores, puts them in good schools, teaches them

An Earnest Appeal.

of Jesus, and in many instances sends them back to their own people as messengers of the Cross, while our missionaries are in nearly every dark corner of the earth.

As we mothers, wives and daughters look into ..the face of our little mite-box day by day, we hear the wail of a little child, who does not know if her future husband will be a leper or blind. In our imagination, we look out of the window and see the bodies of mothers' girl babies wrapped in matting, floating around on the canals.

Bishop Oldham said: "Our work on the field cannot go one step faster than the woman's work."

Bishop Bashford pleads that for every man we send to China we will send two women, and Bishop Thoburn echoes this cry in regard to India.

My sister, you cannot afford to be a Christian woman and not a missionary woman. If Mrs. Judson, Charlotte Tucker, Mrs. Doremus and Isabella Thoburn had been too much occupied with other things to listen to the voice of God, Heaven would have been robbed of many precious jewels. Music and art, litera:ry and social clubs, and even home duties are legitimate and right in their place, but let us be sure to put first things first.

Instead of congratulating ourselves that we are '' doing so much,'' let us fall on our faces in shame and desperation that so little is being done.

Oh, the tragedy of a woman on her dying pillow, thinking of what she might have done for God and humanity, yet having done nothing! Compare the lives

of some of our women to-day, frivolous and selfish, never having known what it meant to put their arms around a lost soul, or to make a real sacrifice for a perishing world, with that of Harriet Newell going down to peacefully die in the Isle of France, reviewing her lifetime sacrifices for the redemption of India. Or the last hours of Elizabeth Hervey, having exchanged her bright New England home for a life at Bombay amid stolid heathenism, saying in her last moments, "If this is the dark valley, it has not a dark spot in it. All is light, light!" Or the exit of Mrs. Lenox, falling under sudden disease at Smyrna, and breathing out her soul with the last words, '' Oh, how happy!'' Or the departure of Mrs. Sarah D. Comstock, spending her life for the salvntion of Burmah, giving up her children that they might come home to America to be educated, and saying, as she kissed them good-bye, never to see them again, '' 0 Jesus, I do this for Thee !''

It was a brilliant military scene, when, in 1445, in the campaign for the capture of Ronda, Queen Isabella of Castile on horseback, side by side with King Ferdinand, rode out to review the troops. As she, in bright qrmor, rode along the lines of the Spanish host and waved her jewelled hand to the warriors, uttering words of cheer to the worn veterans, who, far away from their homes, were risking their lives for the kingdom, truly it was a spectacle to illumine history, but more glorious will be the scene when some consecrated Christian woman, crowned in Heaven. shall review the souls that on earth she clothed, fed a11<J

doctored, and introduced to Jesus. As on the white horse of victory, side by side with the King of kings, this queen unto God forever shall ride past the lines of those in whose salvation she bore a part, the scene will far surpass anything ever witnessed on earth in the life of king or queen.

Let us pray for a missionary revival, worthy the opportunities of the age, the resources of the Church, the promises of God and the~ needs of a perishing world. Will it pay?

Jesus prayed all night, and the next day twelve apostles were ordained. The disciples prayed ten days, and the power of Pentecost came down. The church at Antioch prayed and lo, a foreign mission was born and Saul and Barnabas were sent forth. A few college lads prayed under a hay-stack one stormy night, and the two oldest missionary societies of America were started, and the religious life of our land was changed. A few devoted friends of the London Missionary Society prayed that the mission in Tahiti, which seemed to be in vain, might not be abandoned, and lo, the next vessel brought back the idols of the heathen and the tidings that the island had turned to God. The officers of the Church Missionary Society prayed that God would send some of the flower of English society to a fol'eign field, and before the prayer had reached Heaven, a message came to the secretary to meet a number of the brightest young men of Oxford and Cambridge to confer about this very thing.

"We are dying," said a heathen chief, "Why

don't you send the Gospel faster¥'' Will we do it T

PART II.

'rhe author will always make more '' earnest appeals'' for the relief of her superstitious sisters in South America since reading, '' By Horse, Canoe and Float Through the Wildernesses of Brazil,'' by W. A. Cook. We desire to give our readers a part of one chapter; it runs as follows:

Some of the savage hordes of South America are cannibals. They feast upon their enemies with great pomp and ceremony, even rearing from infancy the offspring of the enemy, in order that he may become, when full grown, the material for a grand, human barbecue. These cannibal banquets are '' the religion, pride and joy of the Brazilian savage ... the triumph of the captor, and an expiatory sacrifice to the spirits of their brethren who have been slain.'' A few tribes have, in times of famine, devoured their own aged and helpless ones; while in still other tribes, the children have eaten their aged parents, believing that, in consuming and assimilating their bodies, they honor them and perpetuate their existence-a crude form of the doctrine of transmigration of spirits. Other tribes, again, cut off the heads of their enemies, and embalm them by filling them with hot sand, and shrinking them until they are about the size of a grapefruit, preserving perfectly the form and features. Large sums of money have been paid by collectors for these ghastly trophies, which has doubtless inspired the head

hunters with greater zeal. Some tribes are notorious for the revolting practice of abortion, which is brutally effected by jumping on the abdomen of the victim.

Religion, '' the conception of the infinite,'' as Max Muller defines it-the fixed belief that a world of spirits exists, which, though encompassing men in the flesh and pervading natural objects, yet is hidden from human eyes-occupies a supreme place in the thoughts and doings of the Bororo as it does in the minds of all peoples of the earth. Elucidating further, Prof. 0. T. Mason says that, '' In a general sense, religion is the sum of what is thought or believed about a spirit world and what is done in consequence of such thinking. What is thought about such a world constitutes creed, what is done or what a people does under its inspiration constitutes the cult. The creed and the cult together form the religion of any individual or people.''

The religion of the Bororo is expressed chiefly by an elaborate system of diabolical rites and ceremonies for the placation of disembodied souls, or spirits, which they call "bopi "-demons; and a funeral is the occasion for the greatest display of the savage ritual, or cult. It is a great musical pandemonium, savage dirge, or Hell's concert; or a sort of wild-man's opera or tragic play, enacted by a primitive male quartette, mixed chorus and orchestra, and lasts several days and nights, first with the body present, and a week later, with the bones present.

When a member of the tribe becomes so ill that

An

the family begins to fear for his life, one of the tribal priests, or sorcerers, is summoned to his hut, where he lies naked on a palm-leaf mat spread upon the ground to declare whether he will live or die. This primitive ecclesiastic may think, inspired with wicked cunning, that the sick one will die naturally within a certain number of days. Or, he may hold a grudge against the stricken man, and may consider this a good opportunity to balance accounts. So, in announcing to the family the number of days the patient will live, he mentally resolves that if death should not occur naturally at the time he shall name, he will see to it that it occurs, nevertheless, in some other way. Or, again, he may feel that life in the village has long been very dull and monotonous, and that. there is immediate and urgent need of a social function or festival of some kind; and what could be more entertaining to the savage public than a good funeral "bakororo" ! In this case, also, he will see to it that the victim dies at the time he indicates. In any event, he will take steps to have his predictions "come true" to the letter, in order to maintain his prestige and reputation. He informs the anxious and waiting family of the number of days their loved one has to live by touching that number of fingers on his uplifted hand, and each time he touches a finger, repeating the word, '' meri, meri, meri, meri, meri, by'' -sun, sun, sun, sun, sun, die-meaning that the patient will see five suns-five days-then die. Or, the conjurer may say, "nodua, nodua, nodua, nodua, nodua, by"sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, die-meaning that the

20 An Earnest Appeal.

sick one will sleep, or pass five more nights, then die. If, at the end of this time, he still lives, th~ executionPr, sent of course by the sorcerer, will suddenly enter his hut, sit astride of him on his stomach, and strangle him until he is dead. The grief-stricken family may stand about moaning and crying, but will offer no resistance.

When a Bororo has been summoned from his earthly ''bai"-naturally or otherwise-to wander with the demons in their world of sadness and gloom, whether the event occur at meridian or at midnight, the body is immediately rolled up in the palm-leaf mat which has served as a bed during life, and borne to the great hut where the elaborate funeral ceremonies? or "bakororo," are at once inaugurated. At the head of the corpse stands a quartette of big, burly and entirely nude savages, of terrible visages, having their bodies besmeared from head to foot with black slush, their heads decorated with large fans of brilliant feathers representing the rising or setting sun, and holding in their hands gourd-shell rattles larger than a quart measure. These lead the medley of uncouth, bloodcurdling noises, uttering constantly a loud, deep, prolonged, growling, roaring, bellowing, diabolical moan -hee-aw-aw-aw-aw-aw-00-00-00-00-00oo ah--ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, squatting slightly with each wail of woe, and shaking the huge rattles held in each hand. Behind these four "children of the sun," stands a group of female savages, who howl and wail, mutter, moan and shriek an accompaniment, meanwhile not forgetting to fan off the flies that light on the

An Earnest Appeal. 21

bodies of the male quartette in front of them. The remaining inhabitants of the village, except the family of the deceased, group themselves on both sides of the quartette and chorus, the men usually sitting crosslegged on palm-leaf mats on the ground, and the women standing. The male members of these outer groups are the orchestra, or band, composed of four or more pieces, in the manipulation of which the primitive musicians relieve one another from time to time. These instruments are of two kinds only, and of native manufacture. One kind is a sort of bass flute forty inches long and three inches thick in the outer half. It is made by splitting and hollowiLg a sapling, then binding the halves together into a rough tube by winding them from end to end with long strips of bark. The upper half of the instrument is but an inch or so in diameter. The second instrument is a sort of trumpet, made by gouging large openings in each end of several oblong calabash shells, five inches in diameter., and gumming them together, end to end, with beeswax. But one note can be produced with each instrument. The flute emits a snorting, snoring sound, the trumpet a barking, roaring, groaning, diapason note.

On one side of the corpse-which, at the rites I witnessed, was that of a child seven years old-crouched the bereaved father and brothers, who moa::::ied, muttered and lamented continually in low tones. On the opposite side, kneeled the mother, sitting on her heels, her body completely besmeared with blood from having been slashed from head to foot with sharp-

An Earnest Appeal.

edged shells, while behind her crouched another female who, having first rubbed ashes i:tto her scalp, slowly jerked out her hair, consuming five or six hours in the operation. At the same time, the poor, tortured creature wailed and moaned, and uttered lamentations, and jibbered and muttered, reciting the virtues of her beloved child. Meanwhile, female relatives and friends of the stricken family, placing, each in turn, a foot upon the corpse, slashed their legs and arms scores of times, and sometimes their entire bodies, with jagged-edged shells-reminding one of the priests of Baal -and daubed their bodies from head to foot with a black substance, made chiefly from the genipapa fruit, all the while moaning, muttering and chanting. They do not intend to cut themselves more than skin deep, but now and then they accidently cut deep and bleed profusely. The reader will have observed that the males do not cut themselves, nor pluck out their hair. They are careful not to injure themselves. It is only the nearest female relative of the deceased that has her hair jerked out.

Witnessing these hideous, uncanny and revolting scenes of savagery, in the sickening atmosphere and dismal gloom of the great hut, and listening to the pandemoniacal uproar or medley of infernal noises, one could well imagine that he had somehow been cast into the dungeons of the damned, and was hearing their shrieks, and wails, and moans of unspeakable anguish and despair. While this hideous drama, that only savage tragedians are capable of interpreting, was being enacted, and pan-

An Earnest Appeal. 23

demonium was singing and playing its hellish hymns, and saying its mass, in this cavernous place; outside, a tropical sun was silently inundating the earth with its glorious effulgence, and all Nature, arrayed more beautifully than Solomon in all his glory, sang for joy. The first part of this horrid nightmare within the great hut with the body present, continues night and day without intermission, until the first sunset after death; then, as the king of light sinks slowly and majestically behind the western wilderness, and the shadows of night begin to gather, symbolical of the closing forever of life's bright, happy day, and the ushering in of the black, sad, hopeless night of the invisible world, the savage choir, chorus and orchestra become hushed; and the enwrapped remains are borne solemnly to the puolic playground just outside of the great hut, placed on top of the ground and covered by a little mound of earth. Here the body lies for a week or more in order that the flesh may decay and separate from the bones. Each evening during this time, at the "meri de codu"-the setting of the sun-as the prince of day resigns the earth to the rule of night, the sorrowing family and sympathizing friends gather around the sacred mound, and with their faces turned toward the dying light, murmur a low, mournful chant, pleading the virtues of the lost one, and perhaps also recommending him to the good offices of the "supreme power"-the sun-or to the protection of the great "bopi" who are believed to dwell in the sun, the shade of their dear one, who, being ''wicked'' and ''bad,'' is doomed to wander forever in the regions

of darkness and despair, and to plot evil against men in the flesh. During the week, too, water is occasionally thrown upon the mound to hasten the decay of the corpse. I was told that the savages also churn the mound, but did not see them do this. During the week, also, the family of the deceased crouch frequent~ ly in their gloomy abode, and mutter, moan and wail. A week having elapsed since burial, the time came to disinter the putrefying remains and prepare for ihe second part of the obsequies with the bones present. The day preceding this event was again a gala day in the city of savagery. During the entire forenoon, a kind of "bakororo" was held in the great hut, but no female of the tribe assisted at these doings. During nearly the entire day, too, the forest in the vicinity of the village reverberated with insane sou:ids and infernal noises, for groups of .savages perambulated the wilds, back and forth, swinging the roarer -which will be described later-which emitted a variety of unearthly shrieks and sepulchral moans. It seemed as if the demons of -the pit were out for a holiday and holding a picnic in the woods. Within the great hut, during the afternoon, peculiar whistles, beautifully adorned with feathers, were sounded at intervals to call the "bopi," while one of the savages was chosen to represent the soul of the departed. He was rigged up in a skirt made of long, slender palmleaves hung to a belt, and a cloak and. a veil of the same material, and made in the same way, while his head was adorned with a large fan made of the long, brilliant tail-feathers of the macaw. He was accom-

An

Earnest Appeal. 25

panied by two adjutants with big, gourd-shell rattles in their hands, who stood, one behind, the other in front of him. First, the trio danced up and down within the great hut, sidewise, crab-like, with legs rigid. It seems to be a sort of ecstatic or devil-dance, and is continued until the p~rticipants appear to have cramps in their legs. During this performance, armed sentries guard the entrances to the savage hall. Meanwhile, stepping outside the great hut, I saw, crouching close to the wall of the hut, the mother of the rMently deceased, weeping, wailing and jibbering in a low, squeaky voice which was almost gone, her body emaciated, covered with gashes and besmeared with blood. She was a most pitiable appearing creature. How cruel are the customs of savagery!

The soul representative and his adjutants next danced and jerked themselves outside the great hut into the open air, then to the public playground on the edge of the village. Here, the trio, totally exhausted, sat on the ground, while an assistant proceeded to call the "bopi," in the persons of a few of his fellowsavages who were to represent the:r.n, or act as the materialization of the demons. Standing in the center of the ring, he beckons and calls, offering perhaps a bit of tobacco to induce a few men to volunteer, while the remaining males of the village-for o:ily the males participate in this part of the funeral rites-stand scattered about in the coarse grass and among the scraggy trees beyond the ring. At length, a savage offers to represent the '' bopi'' by dropping on all fours and beginning to creep very slowly toward the caller,

or ringmaster, uttering constantly abdominal squeaks, in imitation, perhaps, of the note of the tapir, or of the wild pig. Approaching the center of the ring, he springs up suddenly on his hind feet, and with upraised arms rushes to the caller, where he takes his stand upon a spot prepared for him. Another and another volunteers m the same way until five '' bopi'' representatives are in line in the center of the ring. Balls of clay mud are now produced and the five ''bopi'' impersonators are painted drab from head to foot, black rings are marked around their eyes, the black figure of a serpent is sketched coiled around the body of one or two, and a quantity of mud is massed into their hair,

The caller now places himself in the path leading to the village, and beckons and calls as before, and the '' bopi '' represenatives again drop on all fours and begin to creep very slowly toward him, emitting continuously their weird notes. At the same time, the remainder of the savage band break forth instantly into a wild uproar, yelling and screaming, throwing up their hands, dancing and jumping in their mad, though mock, efforts to drive the '' bopi'' into the village, suggesting a squad of men and boys trying to drive a herd of· obstinate hogs. Suddenly, a horrible shriek rends the air just in advance of the materialized '' bopi. '' This appears to frighten them, for they tum hnd begin to creep away from the village. The drivers now become still more frantic, yelling and shrieki.ng, bellowing, chattering and jumping fiercely. Soon, however, the "bopi" are again headed toward the vii-

lage; and entering the path, all spring up suddenly on their hind feet, mount their horses-feiluw savagesgallop into the village, dismount, and crouch around the mound where the body lies buried, and claw the earth slightly, as if about to unearth the remains. They now quietly retire, their part in the savage rites having ended for the day.

The soul representative, who has re-entered the village in advance of the '' bopi'' represenatives, now seated himself astride of the grave, and the father of the deceased having crouched beside him, he performed over him some enchantments to route any evil spirit that might be threatening him, or to make him invulnerable to their assaults. This he did making passes over the bereaved man's head, and muttering and blowing in his mouth, nose and ears. Following this, the soul representative deposited all his rigging on the mound save the '' pariko,'' or fan of brilliant feathers that adorned his head.

We now witnessed the ceremony of the transference of the personal e:ffects of the deceased from this world to the spirit world, for the Bororo, in their peculiar way, believe firmly in ''laying up treasures in heaven.'' A fire was kindled, around which the soul representative, accompanied by an adjutant, danced sidewise, stiff-legged, while each article that had belonged to the deceased was passed by the father to the adjutant, who, in turn, handed it to the soul representative, who cast them one by one into the fire until all were consumed. They were only a few dirty toys, some rude ornaments made of feathers,

An Earnest Appeal.

or of the teeth and claws of beasts, and one or two articles of wearing apparel made of bark. To us, they were merely a heap of rubbish, but to the poor natives, precious treasures. Having vanished· in flame, the effects were considered transferred to the invisible world, and so transubstantiated that they could be of service to the newly arrived shade, or '' bopi. ''

One reason that the Bororo give for burning the belongings of the deceased is that, if they were allowed to remain in the hut, the family, constantly reminded by them of their lost ones, would be weeping, wailing and uttering lamentations continually, for it is their custom to cry and jibber loudly whenever anything revives the memory of their deaJ. Another reason for burning the effects is that, if they should not be burned, and hence not transferred to the shadow land, the soul would return to haunt and injure the family.

It was now about su:aset, and the ceremonies of the day being concluded, all the men seated themselves cross-legged upon mats in two groups just outside the great hut, and a primitive banquet, or collation, was served. The banquet always forms an important part of every social function among savages, indeed, a social function among them is inconceivable without it. But do not banquets, suppers and buffet lunches constitute an important part, if not the most important part, of social events among civilized men? Yet civilized men do not usually have a banquet at a funeral, with the decomposing corpse lying but a few yards in front of them.

'l'he chief items on the menu at this savage banquet were big clay potfuls of a kind of broth made of a starchy liquid wrung from the spongy stems of a dwarf palm and mixed with a sauce made from the yellow, insipid fruit of the burity-palm, called "pyky" (peekee), "pyky" eaten raw, three kinds of wild potatoes, boiled or baked in the ashes, and a sort of cocoanut bread made by pulverizing in a mortar the meats of palmnuts and baking the mass in the ashes. There were no condiments. As each pot or tray of food appeared, a cheer was given by the group for whom it was intended.

That same night, at the midnight hour, while the village slept, the decomposing remains were lifted, supposedly by the '' bopi, '' or by men acting secretly under their orders, for no one is supposed to know the ghouls. They may be appointed by the sorcerer, or by the captains, or are volunteers as heretofore indicated. These men lift the fetid mass by means of the pole that passes inside the roll and protrudes from each end of the mound, carry it to the river and clear the bones of the flesh as best they can; then packing the bones in a basket, deposit them in the great hut, where they 'are found when the village awakes at dawn, ready for the :final ceremonies. At the funeral rites I witnessed, the skull had been kept separate from the rest of the bones, and resting on a palm-leaf tray, partly buried in white down, was being overlaid with bright feathers, plucked from the breast of the macaw, while the "bakororo" was being sung. As the deceased was the little daughter of one

of the chief men, the remains were treated with special honors.

At the "meri rutu"-the birth of the sun-the fol. lowing morning, the demoniacal din and tumult of the savage choir, chorus and orchestra, as of a hundred wild beasts in deadly combat, was again unchained in the gloomy interior of the great hut; and the female relatives and friends of the departed burst forth anew with loud lamentations, and wept, wailed and muttered, and vociferated like the laughter of hyenas, and slashed their bodies afresh with jaggededged shells until they were daubed with gore, and again smeared themselves with the black slush. These fearsome and sickening scenes, and smells, and sounds, especially when witnessed at night in the sepulchral darkness that reigned within the great hut, could not fail to powerfully effect one who had never before listened to a hallelujah chorus in Hell, and to make impressions upon the mind that can never be effaced.

The second part of the funeral '' bakororo,'' or ceremony, with the bones present, may continue without a recess for two or three days and nights, with the exception, perhaps, of one intermission of eight or ten hours for a fishing expedition, the primitive tragedians relieving one another from time to time. When the immediate family of the deceased have howled, wailed and chanted until they can scarcely articulate, they drink clay water, asserting that this relieves the throat somewhat.

Finally I saw the basket of bones taken by the mother of the deceased, and buried in the little cem-

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Earnest Appeal. 31

ctery two or three miles from the village, where it was believed, the '' bopi'' would take possession of them in a few weeks. The sorcerer is believed to know when the "bopi" removes the bones.

A day or two after the conclusion of the funeral rites I witnessed, the father of the deceased, sent by the village authorities, disinterred the basket of bones and brought it back to the great hut. Three of the chief men from a distant village had arrived on a visit, whom it was necessary to receive with honors and entertain with the best festival the village could get up. And what could equal for entertainment a good funeral "bakororo"? But how could they have a funerai '' bakororo '' without a corpse, or at least the bones? As soon as the basket of bones was again brought into the great hut, pandemonium was o::ice more in session, and the rattling, roaring, groaning, squatting, snorting, barking, weeping and wailing continued all the rest of the day and all night. At daybreak, the following morning, an intermission was taken in order that the players and actors in ·this savage drama might go fishing. Th~y fished and hunted all day that they might have something to feast upon, for, of course, a "bakororo" without a banquet would scarcely be a "bakororo." But when the darkness of night again enshrouded the land, the hideous uproar of the savage horde again burst upon our ears and did violence to the peace and tranquillity of the night until the dawn, when it was once more hushed, and the basket of bones was again entombed.

James Milburn Taylor was born July 27, 1873 in Blount County in Eastern Tennessee. In 1887, at a camp-meetng, Taylor experienced salvaton and became involved in the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. In January of 1895 he had his sanctfcaton experience and became a part of the Holiness Movement as an actve evangelist. He preached throughout Tennessee and Kentucky through the early 1900s, while making Knoxville, Tennessee his main center of operatons. He became associated with William Godbey and other Holiness fgures, publishing a number of booklets independently for his ministry. Many of these were published by H.C. Morrison’s Pentecostal Publishing Company.

In the early 1900s Taylor was involved with the Interdenominatonal Missionary Prayer League and the Holiness Union of the South, which helped sponsor Taylor on an evangelistc tour of the West Indies in 1906 and 1907. This included St. Thomas, St. Croix, Dominica, Antgua, Barbados, the Britsh Guianas, and Surinam among other islands, making him one of the pioneer missionaries of the English-speaking Caribbean. In 1912, Taylor, along with S. W. Edwards of the Holiness Union of the South did an evangelistc tour of Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, and Panama. This was one of the earliest Holiness missions to Central America. From January to June of 1914, Taylor did an evangelistc tour of South America including Panama, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, and Chile.

By 1917, Taylor had become the Secretary for Missionary of the Methodist Episcopal Church Board of Foreign Missions and made missionary tours to Mexico and Asia, including Japan, Korea, China, India, Malaysia, Burma, and the Philippines. In 1921 Taylor became president of Taylor University, a positon which he held for six months untl he lef under a scandal. Taylor then went on the Chautauqua circuit speaking about his many travels, at least tll 1926, before fnally disappearing from the pages of history.