printing press, but what is he going to print—the Police Gazette or the Gospel of St. John? You have built your college and found your young man, and trained him up to the very highest point of mental excellence and power, but what is he going to do with his mind? The mind is only an instrument under the direction of the man. The great thing is the ethical man who is going to use this mind. If there is any thing the American people need to learn, it is that there is one thing greater than talent, and that is character—the love and regard for righteousness.

It is here that this Association does its work in the genuine way, regarding education as necessary for the colored race and for all races, not as an end in itself, but as an instrument in the hands of a man ethically and Christianly trained. The gospel must go with the school, so that we may train not only the hand and the brain, but also the conscience and the heart. When I think of the future of the Negro race in America, of the possibilities of that race already being revealed, of the immense political significance of its position to-day, of the certain increase of its numbers, of the inevitable collision of races by and by, unless there be a change in the spirit of the whites, I feel that no education is to be trusted but Christian education, an education based on the gospel of Christ.

And to what purpose can any of us, with better hope of success, devote our time, our money, our labor? Let us have more money for this work. I would say no word to depreciate foreign missions, but is not this after all the work of foreign missions? How will you influence the future of China, or of Japan, or of Africa, or of Europe, in more direct, sympathetic, permanent ways, than by giving the gospel, and the education that goes with the gospel, to those at our very doors from all these lands, who shall carry back, and send back, to their own native countries the same gospel they have learned in this?

TO THE MEMORY OF DR. POWELL.

BY A PASTOR IN THE SOUTH.

THE INDIANS.

LETTER FROM GRAND RIVER, DAK.

Dear Friends:

I have never seen a worse day in the Territory than to-day. The snow was about two feet deep and light. Last night the wind began to blow, and to-day it is blowing a gale and the snow flies like powdered glass. Neither man nor beast can endure it. I cannot see my stable, which is within a stone's-throw of the house. I have wood and water enough in the house to last two or three days; so I shall not suffer personally, and I will spend the time of imprisonment in writing, if I can, between making fires. The snow sifts through my door and window until I have a regular snowbank all along the inside of the house. Though I am warm right by the stove, yet I cannot get the room warm enough to melt the snow. Last winter and this are the hardest I have ever seen in the Territory.

So dear Dr. Powell has gone home! No one should feel sorry for him. How grand and glorious thus to be called home to God! I do not think the work here will suffer because he has gone from our sight. He is only promoted. God will no doubt let him work on in heaven; only gone from the ills that the flesh is heir to. Dead? Oh no! he is not dead. He is living evermore. May we all be as ready as was he for the final call!

On the same day that he died, we trust that there passed through the gates with him one of our Indian boys, whose cause Dr. Powell had so eloquently pleaded. Harry Little-Eagle died like a hero. No one ever suffered more for four months than he, and not once did his faith fail. He prayed and sang, and talked for Jesus as long as his strength held out. The night before he died his voice returned, and he said: "God gave it back to me and told me to talk to the people." He did. He said: "I am going home, God will give me a greater work there to do. Do not cry. You must keep a stout heart and give my message to all the people." Then he prayed, "O Father, keep a big work for me. I have not lived here long. I have only known thee a short time, and I have been a great sufferer. I have done nothing for thee. Keep some work up there for me. I want to help you." Then he said: "Tell Winona to be brave; tell her to have a strong will; tell her to seek out the lost; some will believe and be saved. Tell her to continue to work for the people." I asked, "Are you afraid now, when you are so near the water?" "No," he replied, "I am in a hurry to go home." To his father he said: "God will send you a comforter. I will help prepare a home for you, and my mother and sister and brother. I shall wait for you."

His father, Little-Eagle, seems inspired. New Year's Day he stood up before some Teton Indians and said: "I am one of you. You all know me. You all see me. You see the same body that has been on the war-path with you many times; the same body that has been rigged out in paint and feathers and rattlers, and has danced with you in the dance. The body is the same, but that is all. The part of me that your eyes cannot see is not the same. I am not the same. I think differently; I feel differently; I plan differently. I like different things; I am a new man. My heart is made clean in Christ. When I first tried to follow Christ, I was satisfied. I tried to do right and I thought God would own me. When my boy died he said: 'Tell the people that God has said, "Thou shalt have no God but me. Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not commit adultery. Remember the Sabbath to keep it holy."' Then my heart was heavy. All day and night I sat mute. I said: 'I have done all these things and my boy never did any of them. He will be saved and I shall be lost.' I went to Winona and told her. She told me: 'My friend, if we never had sinned, Christ would not have died. Because you sinned and broke God's laws, Christ died for you. His death makes you his.' Then light came. Yes, I am a sinner, just like the rest of you. We have all done the same things. Now I stand here acquitted. Come to Christ. Come to God. You seek after food for the body; that is all your thought. I sought God, and when I sowed my seed in the spring, I prayed to God and attended to my soul, and God has taken care of my body. I wished, and he made my field flourish when all yours dried up in the sun. If you will seek God he will take care of your bodies. Trust in the Lord. Put away heathen dances and plays. Be not like children; be men and women and God will feed you."

These were his words. He spoke the truth, for he is the only Indian who had an abundant