The Children In The Mission School Are, Be It Granted,
Better Than The Children Outside It In Some Ways; They Display Great
Aptitude For Learning Anything That Comes In Their Way - But There Is
A Great Difference Between White And Black Children.
The black
child is a very solemn thing.
It comes into the world in large
quantities and looks upon it with its great sad eyes as if it were
weighing carefully the question whether or no it is a fit place for
a respectable soul to abide in. Four times in ten it decides that
it is not, and dies. If, however, it decides to stay, it passes
between two and three years in a grim and profound study -
occasionally emitting howls which end suddenly in a sob - whine it
never does. At the end of this period it takes to spoon food, walks
about and makes itself handy to its mother or goes into the mission
school. If it remains in the native state it has no toys of a
frivolous nature, a little hoe or a little calabash are considered
better training; if it goes into the school, it picks up, with
astonishing rapidity, the lessons taught it there - giving rise to
hopes for its future which are only too frequently disappointed in a
few years' time. It is not until he reaches years of indiscretion
that the African becomes joyful; but, when he attains this age he
always does cheer up considerably, and then, whatever his previous
training may have been, he takes to what Mr. Kipling calls "boot"
with great avidity - and of this he consumes an enormous quantity.
For the next sixteen years, barring accidents, he "rips"; he rips
carefully, terrified by his many fetish restrictions, if he is a
pagan; but if he is in that partially converted state you usually
find him in when trouble has been taken with his soul - then he rips
unrestrained.
It is most unfair to describe Africans in this state as "converted,"
either in missionary reports or in attacks on them. They are not
converted in the least. A really converted African is a very
beautiful form of Christian; but those Africans who are the chief
mainstay of missionary reports and who afford such material for the
scoffer thereat, have merely had the restraint of fear removed from
their minds in the mission schools without the greater restraint of
love being put in its place.
The missionary-made man is the curse of the Coast, and you find him
in European clothes and without, all the way down from Sierra Leone
to Loanda. The pagans despise him, the whites hate him, still he
thinks enough of himself to keep him comfortable. His conceit is
marvellous, nothing equals it except perhaps that of the individual
rife among us which the Saturday Review once aptly described as "the
suburban agnostic"; and the "missionary man" is very much like the
suburban agnostic in his religious method. After a period of
mission-school life he returns to his country-fashion, and deals
with the fetish connected with it very much in the same way as the
suburban agnostic deals with his religion, i.e. he removes from it
all the inconvenient portions.
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