The Minute Man on the FrontierPuddefoot, William George
History
The Minute Man on the Frontier
Puddefoot, William George
Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.); Missions -- West (U.S.)
Depressed in spirits, I told my troubles to a good lady who I knew was
"one of the salt of the earth," and noticing a smile come over her
face, I asked her what she was smiling at. She replied, "The third
was as bad as the other two!"
Just here is one of the greatest hindrances the missionary has to
contend with. I am not sure but it rivals the saloon. One missionary I
visited told me that in one little hamlet, on his field, there was not
a single family living in lawful wedlock. It is next to impossible to
do anything with the parents in such cases. But there is one bright
side to this dark picture. Almost without exception, they like to have
their children attend the Sabbath-school. Here is prolific soil in
which to sow good seed, and we cannot commence too soon.
We are living in rushing times. I have just read in a paper that one
town in Ontonagon County, one year and a half old, has three thousand
inhabitants, forty-five saloons, twelve hotels, two papers,
forty-eight stores, two opera houses, and an electric plant! With
villages springing up in every county, and the immense onflowing tide
from foreign shores, the lone missionary on the frontier ofttimes
would despair, but for the promise of the Master, the miracles of the
past, and the joy of hope's bright harvest in the future. And so,
"going forth weeping, bearing precious seed," he sows beside all
waters, with full expectations that "He shall come again rejoicing,
bringing His sheaves with Him."
That the reader may have an idea of the vastness of the field, and the
distances between the workers, I will jot down a few facts. In 1887
there were thirty Congregational churches in the three conferences of
Grand Traverse, Cheboygan, and Chippewa and Mackinac. These
conferences had an average width of sixty miles, and stretch from
Sherman, in the south of Grand Traverse Conference, for a hundred and
fifty-eight miles, as the bird flies, to Sugar Island, in the north of
Chippewa and Mackinac Conference.
No one can say we were crowded. My nearest neighbor was sixteen miles
away, the next thirty, and the next forty; and, unless a change has
come very lately, this is the only self-supporting church in the three
conferences--and that because it was settled thirty years prior to
many of the other churches. Ten years ago there were hundreds of miles
of unbroken forests where to-day are crowded summer resorts and busy
villages, filled with representatives of the most diverse
nationalities under the sun. I have preached to a good-sized audience
with not a single person in it that was born in the United States. And
the cry is, Still they come. Now send on your harvesters!
XXIX.
"HARVEST HOME."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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