CHAPTER XVIII.
THE AMERICAN COLONY.
Since the successful inauguration of railways in Mexico, thousands of our people have drifted there—some for health, others for pleasure, and still others to improve their financial condition. The Mexican capital has naturally been the great rallying point with them, and whatever their successes, trials, sorrows, or misfortunes, their fellow-countrymen, in greater or less degree, have endeavored to aid and encourage.
Some time ago an American Benevolent Society was formed by the most prominent permanent American residents, which numbers about fifty members.
Of this society the American minister is ex-officio President; Mr. I. Mastella Clark, Vice-President; Mr. W. I. De Gress, Secretary; and Mr. Frederic P. Hoeck, Treasurer. The payment of $1 a month entitles one to membership, and it is a noble way to spend that dollar, the object being to render effective aid to their suffering and distressed countrymen, whose increasing numbers demand active cooperation.
With only a limited amount of funds, together with sums generously donated by the temporary tourist or traveler, the Association has accomplished a vast deal of good. But much remains to be done. A hospital is now being constructed under the auspices of the society, but the scheme is too great for its resources.
The hospital cares for the homeless, sick and unfriended stranger, for whom every comfort is provided. But there is another great and imperative need for the strong and healthy—for deserving and industrious young Americans, cut off from social privileges and from the softening and refining influences of home.
Comparatively few American families live in such a way as to enable them to offer those hospitalities which would be a safeguard from the many allurements and temptations that naturally fall in the pathway of these young men. To meet this want and avert the danger, Reading-Rooms or a Friendly Inn should be established, where evenings may be passed with comfort and profit. The business engagements and limited means of these young men preclude the possibility of accomplishing this for themselves. Connected with railways, telegraph or telephone, or mining enterprises, they are constantly shifted about from place to place. Others would come in for the benefits they had received and the good work be continued. A wide field exists for the philanthropist, in providing for the comfort and welfare of our countrymen in Mexico.
The Protestant churches, including Episcopal, Methodist, South and North Presbyterians, Baptists, Society of Friends, are all established and have in successful operation excellent day-schools, employing the best teachers, both men and women.
To me no music was sweeter than the young voices of these dark children of the Mission Sunday-schools, singing in their own tongue, in perfect harmony, "O, Paradise! O, Paradise!" and "Nearer, my God, to Thee," with other hymns, their sympathetic natures responsive to these inspiring melodies.
Among the teachers engaged in the mission schools, I found "Clara Bridgman," the charming correspondent of the New Orleans 
INTERIOR OF MEXICAN EPISCOPAL CATHEDRAL.
Bishop Riley, of the Episcopal Church, has begun a great work in Mexico, and it should not be allowed to languish for want of means. Substantial aid is required in order to carry it out according to its original inception. All communications or contributions to this purpose should be sent to No. 43 Bible House, New York City. To give some idea of the progress of the work and its wonderful results, I quote the following from Janvier's Guide to Mexico:
"In 1879 Dr. Riley was consecrated Bishop of the Valley of Mexico. His broad culture and thorough knowledge of the Spanish language and character especially fitted him for the high office to which he was called. He brought to the field of his labors the fortune that was his by right of inheritance, and he has been instrumental in having more than 100,000 Bibles distributed in Mexico; 49 churches were established, numbering several thousand communicants; 10 schools, and 3 orphanages, enrolling about 500 children."
Bishop Riley's unselfish devotion to the cause and the sacrifices he has made for it, should be more widely known, and Episcopalians generally should rejoice at the strong foothold obtained by their church. The handsomest of all the Protestant church buildings is secured by them for their worship, and the congregations are large, attentive and devout. Of the transformation of this building from a Roman Catholic Cathedral to its present use, Janvier writes: "Here masses were heard by Cortes, and here for a time his bones were laid. Here through three centuries the great festivals of the church were taken part in by the Spanish Viceroys. Here was sung the first Te Deum in celebration of Mexican Independence, the most conspicuous man in the rejoicing assemblage being General Augustin Yturbide—by whom, virtually, Mexican Independence was won; and here, seventeen years later, were held the magnificent funeral services when Yturbide—his Imperial error forgiven, and his claim to the title of Liberator alone remembered—was buried. Around no other building in Mexico, cluster such associations as are gathered here. And even now, when the great monastic establishment has been swept away, and the church itself has become a Protestant Cathedral, the very wreck of it all serves to mark, in the most striking and dramatic way, the latest and most radical phase of development of the nation's life."
Christmas was celebrated in a manner truly American. Santa Claus visited the children, while roast turkey, plum-pudding, and much other good cheer was in every American household.
Trinity Methodist Church was filled to overflowing, on the occasion of the children's festival on Christmas Eve, under the supervision of the Rev. John Butler, the faithful pastor of the Northern Methodist Church.
Pines were brought a long distance, and loaded with presents for five hundred pupils, members of the Sunday-school and orphanage connected with the church. Bishop Foster, from Boston, delivered an eloquent address.
At the hall of the Union Evangelical congregation, a cantata, "The Message of Christmas," was produced, the Rev. Mr. Sloane, of the Baptist Church, assisted by ladies, managing the affair.
The Methodist Church South also held a pleasant reunion of its congregation, presided over by its pastor, the Rev. Mr. Patterson, Church of the Messiah.
The Rev. Mr. Green, of the Presbyterian Church, united with his flock in a fitting observance of the occasion.
The American colony, and English-speaking people generally, joined en masse in these Christmas rejoicings and church services.
At the Episcopal Cathedral, the great festival of the church was duly observed, but at that time the Chapel for English and Americans had no rector. Since then, happily, the English Church has sent over a zealous and accomplished young clergyman, Mr. Sherlock, who was cordially received, as well by the Americans as by the English.
It was a source of extreme gratification to me, as an American, to see in what high esteem our former ministers were held. Ex-Minister and Mrs. J. W. Foster left the kindliest remembrances behind them, and I often heard them mentioned in the highest terms, especially Mrs. Foster, who seemed to have thoroughly studied and appreciated Mexican character. At the time that I was at the capital, she, too was on a visit there, accompanied by two brilliant Washington belles. On her arrival, according to the custom of the country, she at once took a carriage and called on all her Mexican friends.
Ex-Minister Morgan and family also left similar pleasant impressions, and Consul-General Strother ("Porte Crayon ") seemed to have endeared himself to both natives and Americans. Consul-General Porch, too, became very popular during his brief stay.
Our people may congratulate themselves on the peculiarly fortunate manner in which they have been represented in our neighboring republic.
There are two American dentists, two physicians, and about twenty-five merchants, besides mechanical agents of various kinds, and cotton brokers.
Father Gribbin is the only American priest, and no countryman of his fails to receive from him the kindliest attentions.
Among the best appointments made by President Cleveland was that of General Henry R. Jackson as Minister Plenipotentiary and Envoy Extraordinary to the Republic of Mexico.
A Bayard "without fear and without reproach," in him are combined the high chivalrous character, noble intellect, and generous heart that have commended him to the esteem and veneration of his own countrymen, and the highest consideration of all.
Diplomatic service was his by heredity, his father having been Minister to France for a number of years, while the General himself was sent to Vienna as Charge d' Affaires in 1853, and was promoted to Minister Resident in the summer of 1854, but resigned in the summer of 1858, having spent five years in Austria.
He is widely known as a man of letters, a poet, and an eloquent orator.
General Jackson occupied the elegant house of President Diaz, and there dispensed a wide and generous hospitality, in which he was ably seconded by Mrs. Jackson, who with charming grace joined her husband in extending those social courtesies to Americans for which they were noted in their beautiful home in Savannah. Mrs. Jackson's receptions were held on Thursday afternoons. On Thanksgiving Day (1885) Minister Jackson entertained splendidly the entire American Colony.
Not only in state and social affairs did he represent the American people, but to the unfortunate he lent an ever-ready and sympathetic ear, no countryman being too obscure or too miserable to claim his personal attention.
General Jackson took a deep and active interest in establishing the American Hospital. The matter had long been under advisement.
Simon Lara, of Spanish parentage, born in New York, an American by virtue of his birth, but having lived the greater part of his life in Mexico, was the generous father and founder, having donated the ground and money to the extent of twelve thousand dollars.
The colony celebrated Washington's birthday by laying the cornerstone. Americans came from all accessible points, and under the circus tent of Orrin Brothers the interesting ceremonies were held. The Stars and Stripes waved over the largest and most enthusiastic assemblage of Americans ever known at the capital, while Mexican sympathy was manifested by General Carillo furnishing the Seventh Regiment Band for the occasion.
A liberal sum was raised in addition to Mr. Lara's benefaction and one thousand dollars donated by General Jackson.
The cornerstone, with the simple inscription, "The American Hospital, 1886," was laid by General Jackson. The box containing some of the customary deposits was consigned to its place, when the General, tapping the stone three times with a trowel, uttered impressively the words, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, and of suffering humanity."
Miss Waldo, an accomplished artist from New York, painted the portrait of Simon Lara, and Mr. Balling that of General Grant. The latter was raffled twice, bringing several hundred dollars, each winner donating it to the hospital.
A lady from Texas suggested that to these two be added the portrait of General Robert E. Lee, which was promptly responded to by a Virginia lady living at the capital, who painted one and placed it in possession of the society—the three to adorn the walls of the hospital when completed.
Orrin Brothers contributed a grand benefit performance at their mammoth circus.
The following is the address of General Jackson delivered on the occasion:
Ladies and Gentlemen: That was a marvelous work of the pagan imagination which peopled the earth, the air, and the water with countless divinities; giving to every stream its naiad, to every grotto its nymph, to every intellectual taste and aspiration its grace or its muse, and to every home its household gods. Vainly, however, shall we seek through the pagan mythology for god or goddess of that Charity pronounced by St. Paul to be greater than Faith, greater than Hope; although Carita had been a name more divinely melodious than Venus or Pallas or Juno. As the pagan heaven was but a reflex—its gods but echoes—of the breathing world, it is fair to conclude that the word when pronounced by the pagan tongue failed to express that passion in the human soul. It was not known to the Greek; else he had not erected his altar in Athens "To the Unknown God." Whence, then, came it?—this emotion, more potent than the thunderer Jove, hurling the bolts fabricated for him by the forger Vulcan? Whence came this power supreme, which is now restoring its lost law of gravitation to the moral universe? I know not! Indeed, indeed, I know not! unless it fell from heaven into the stable of Bethlehem, proclaiming by its fall, and by its first touch, in material form, of the earth, that the lowliest of spots may be glorified by birth the most divine; that the image of a common Father may be stamped most deeply upon the poorest of the poor; that, as in the heavens above there is but one God, so upon the earth below there is but one common humanity, bound to him by one—the only perfected—prayer; to be made by all in one, or by one for all: "Our Father, give us this day our daily bread."
That prayer may be made by acts as well as in words. It is recorded of the Italian monk, Fra Giovanni—named in life "Angelico," known after death, as "Beato"—that he prayed with his brush; his every picture was a prayer to God. And never since he first learned to lisp the hallowed words at his mother's knee, never more fervently "in spirit and in truth," has the noble gentleman who gives to Charity the ground upon which we stand, repeated that heaven-born prayer, than is he now repeating—nay! than he repeats it all the while; for the heart of his charity never ceases to beat; no race or nationality, no line of latitude or longitude, can bound its action. I venture to say that, although he is devoting these precincts to his own immediate countrymen, who may be destitute sufferers upon a foreign soil, your gate will never be closed with his assent against the forlorn stranger who may be helpless, homeless, friendless, and destitute! And we, too, are about to embody in material form the same God-given prayer. Humble, indeed, the structure which we shall raise, if compared with the Parthenon at Athens, or the Coliseum at Rome; but the Coliseum and the Parthenon have fallen to ruins—the inimitable creations of Phidas, himself called "the divine," scattered over earth, beautiful bones of a dead civilization. And so too, the wood and the brick which we will use shall crumble into dust; the very iron yield to the destructive forces of material nature; but again and again and again shall they be renewed; the very earth upon which they will rest shall embody our prayer. The civilization vitalized by that spirit which fills with its adorable presence the heavens, the earth, the air, and the water; which, "in the beginning" "was with God;" "without which was made nothing that was made; "in which" we live and move and have our being;" and which, by the universal and irresistible power of moral attraction, is ever drawing the humblest of earth's sentient and intelligent creatures toward the One Omnipotent God, can never, never, never, die!
********
Since writing the above, General Jackson has resigned and returned to the privacy of home life. The American Colony, as well as many prominent Mexicans, showed their appreciation by giving him the grandest ovation ever tendered an American, with the single exception of General Grant. As a further token of esteem, they presented him with a painting of the unrivaled scenery of the Valley of Mexico, executed by Velasco. 
Henry R. Jackson
Mr. Chairman, and Gentlemen of the Committee, Friends and Countrymen: What have I done to deserve this repeated demonstration from you? Surely the resolutions of the 10th of September were all that heart could desire, and more than was called for by any merit of mine. And yet you have come to honor me anew by your presence, by the kind words of the chairman of your committee, and by another enduring testimonial of your regard—this beautiful picture of the Valley and City of Mexico, by a distinguished Mexican artist. Next to the resolutions themselves, nothing could be more grateful to me; for next to my own, I do love this country. Grand and beautiful Mexico! how happy would I be to render her service! Hither I came with the hope of doing something, however small it might be, in the great work of drawing her people as close to our own in sympathy as God has placed them in territory.
But you, my countrymen, who have made your homes upon her bosom, you who are affixing permanent interests to her soil, you are the best diplomatists for a work like this. By obedience to her laws, by respecting her government, by promoting her welfare, above all by honoring her nationality, you can win for your country the affections of her proudly sensitive, but kind-hearted and courteous people. I say by honoring her nationality, for we should never forget that nationality is the God-given life of a people. Laws, constitutions, and governments are, at last, the mere work of man; but nationalities—these are the creatures of God! The hand which in cold blood would destroy a nationality is an impious, a heaven-defying hand. It would poison a family; it would murder a man; for man, family, and nationality are all alike the creatures of God. A republic of republican nationalities, held together by the one common constitution, given by Him in his Sermon on the Mount, must be the final civilization of the world.
What I said when I came, I repeat as I go: the Republics of this continent can surely prosper only by the faithful discharge of mutual obligations—of all to each, of each to all, of each to each. They cannot afford to be false, the one to the other; to demand anything which is not clearly right; to submit to anything which is manifestly wrong. They should rejoice with each other in prosperity; they should aid each other in distress. Had I the power to-night, I would give to the nationality of Mexico, to the prosperity and happiness of her people, wings that should bear them far above her snow-capped mountains, up toward the eternal stars!
And now what shall I say to you, my countrymen—my own dear countrymen?
To you who received me with open arms when I came; who have ever been so generous to me, who have viewed with so kindly a heart all I have said, all I have done—in parting from you, what shall I say? Nay, what can I say? There are times when emotions crush out words. But far away is a Georgia home, whose doors will be ever ready to swing wide open to you and to yours; upon whose walls will be hung the resolutions, so beautifully engrossed, and this picture, side by side, in loving companionship. Inexpressibly dear will they be to hearts which must hereafter have a dual life; one there, the other here; one in Savannah, the other in the grand original of this beautiful picture; hearts which will be ever awake to all that may befall you, to all that concerns you, and even to the last will cherish the hope of meeting you again; if not here, if not there, somewhere in the boundless universe of God.
The last word must now be spoken, the word that breaks the future off from the past; the word that wrings the heart, and leaves it to the tumult of its own pulsations; "the word that makes us linger; yet, farewell!"