TEMPERANCE AND CHURCH WORK,
BY ELD. J. B. MCCLEERY.
ANALYSIS OF CHARACTER.
1. An indomitable will.
2. A sublime courage.
3. A never-satisfied hungering and thirst for knowledge.
4. An intense love for truth, and hatred of shams.
5. A tireless worker.
6. An advanced thinker.
In presenting this analysis it is by no means thought to be complete. There are many phases of his well-known character left untouched, because this chapter would become a book, if all were presented in detail. We touch upon these more salient ones, as presenting the well-known outlines of his later life, and trust the picture will find faithful recognition among his host of admirers.
Those who have known him ever since the past Territorial days of Kansas, will concede that, for the accomplishment of a purpose unto which he had once deliberately put his hand, no man ever breathed the fresh air of these broad prairies who followed the trail with more determination and keen, intelligent acquaintance with all bearings, overcoming difficulties, meeting objections, accepting temporary defeat (philosophically), but never relinquishing his purpose until victory crowned his effort, or failure was absolutely inevitable, than he.
Suited to this was a courage as heroic as Leonidas' and sublime as Paul's. The stormy days of the fifties and sixties gave evidence of the physical side of this quality, and his entire life, of the moral. He "feared no foe in shining armor," and rather courted than avoided a passage at arms dialectic. Eminently a man of peace, and loving the pursuits that make for it, he would see no principle of right unjustly assailed without girding himself for the conflict, and standing where the blows fell thickest.
Coming to this unknown country at an age when the ordinary mind takes firmest grasp of all intellectual things, and being thus deprived of that mental food necessary to satisfy and make strong, there was ever after a hungering for the things he did not have, that would not be satisfied. I remember talking with him once, while sitting on his lumber wagon, resting his team in the cotton-wood bottoms east of Atchison, and he bewailed as much as a man of his fiber could, the fate that compelled him to toil day and night while his soul was starving for that intellectual food which lay all around him, but which he did not have time to gather and devour. This, however, was not abnormal; for, even to the day of his death, he was a devoted disciple, sitting at the feet of every true Gamaliel.
An intense lover of truth, and a like hater of shams, he analyzed mercilessly; not for the sake of opposing, but in search of kernels and the source of things. If he found the tree was bearing, or destined to bear evil fruit, he would do his utmost that there should be left of it neither root nor branch. Accepting good in every presented form, if he suspected evil in the garb of good, there was no waiting for a more opportune time than the then present, for such stripping and exposure as his vigorous logic, sarcasm, wit, pathos, and personal presence could produce. Humble, and exceedingly retiring in ordinary, when the truth was assailed, or wolves in sheeps' clothing appeared, he became a lion, fierce and towering; and woe betake the man or system that then became the object of his righteous wrath. Such torrents of invective as fell from his tongue; such flashes as gleamed from his gray eagle-eyes; such scorn as glowed in his thin, pallid lips, made every one tremble—an avalanche that swept all before it.
To toil, of some character or other, he seemed to be destined. For no sooner did he find a little rest from the field or herd, than all his Hurculean energy was thrown into some cherished and waiting mental project. His life is an example of the statement that "genius is the result of labor." Neither did he travel in thought alone upon the surface of things. There were subjects, the philosophy of which no contemporary understood better; and upon the social and organic relations of the religious reformation with which he always stood identified, he was twenty years ahead of his confreres. He was a veritable Elijah in many things, but he was never known to flee from the face of his enemies.
His was a mighty nature; the soul of honor and the embodiment of truth.
There are two features of his Kansas life, which marked the man, that I wish to portray, viz: His temperance work, and his religious work. These were not in any sense divorced, as though they were not always righteously allied; but, as all know, the prohibition question holds a prominent place in the history of this proud young queen, with her "ad astra per aspera," and from the time she was admitted to a place among the sisterhood of States, up to the date that the comparatively little majority of 8,000 votes placed her squarely in opposition to the saloon, with all its interests and iniquities, he labored, watched, and prayed, for such a consummation. In this, as in his religious conceptions, he was always in the advance, running new lines and opening broad highways, and inviting fields for the less sturdy but oncoming multitude. As he had battled to prevent this, his adopted State, from being desecrated by the blot of human slavery, so now he voted, preached, lectured, wrote, that it might be delivered from the body and soul destroying curse of the rum power.
I have before me his temperance scrap-book, beginning with the proposed amendment to the State Constitution, March 8, 1879, and coming up to the time of his death, in which I find fifty-five newspaper articles written by him, of from one to three columns in length, presenting, in his own terse, humorous, glowing, vigorous, convincing way, all sides of this chameleon-hued question; now analyzing the amendment and the laws to enforce it, turning aside here to answer the cavil of some carping critic, then to demolish and bury some blatant political defender of the whisky element; arraigning the Governor, Senate and House of Representatives for their gingerly treatment of the great question, and sending a trumpet-call to the honest, brave, and sincere temperance workers, both men and women, urging them to greater vigilance and closer compact. These, with numerous short and pithy articles, added to all his sermons and lectures on the subject, occupying a much larger space and far more time, will give an idea of the labor of heart and brain bestowed upon this one question, during this one decade. We have room in this chapter for only one short article from his pen, as an example of the many, indicating how he felt, thought, and wrote during those stirring years. The title of the article is, "The Prohibition of the Liquor Traffic, The Constitutional Amendment in Kansas." He says:
This is, perhaps, the first case in which any government in the world has incorporated into its constitution a clause prohibiting forever the sale of intoxicating drinks as a beverage. This is a struggle in which the churches, the preachers, and the Sunday-schools are arrayed in mortal antagonism to the saloons and saloon-keepers. Both parties are instinctively conscious that this is a contest in which the issue is to kill or be killed. No truce or peace is possible. 'I will put enmity between thy seed and her seed.' The people are drawn into one or the other of these parties by a sort of elective affinity. One class goes with the churches and the Sunday-schools; another gravitates to the drinking-house. The one class are swayed and controlled by the law of love—"Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself;" the other by the principle that governed Cain—"Am I my brother's keeper?" "Who cares?" "Let every man look out for himself?" "If a man chooses to make a beast of himself, it is none of my business."
One of the peculiar things connected with this movement is the fact that by far the most determined and effective opposition to this law comes from foreign-born and naturalized citizens. They have, so to speak, monopolized the liquor traffic; they are bound together by a kind of free masonry, and with small regard to whom they vote with, Democrats or Republicans, they give the whole weight of their political influence in favor of free liquor.
With here and there a notable exception, the Roman Catholic Church throws its influence on the same side; hence its church fairs are carnivals of drunkenness.
The two extremes of our American society do also largely join in this clamor for free liquor. "The upper ten thousand," those that arrogate to themselves that they are par excellence, the elite of the nation—albeit that their assumed gentility is sometimes but a shoddy or shabby gentility—make the road from the top of society to the bottom, and from thence to hell, as short as possible, by assuming that it is aristocratic to tipple.
When from these so-called upper circles, we go down to the bottom of society, what shall we say of that great multitude of men and women, crushed into poverty, helplessness and ignorance, groping as the blind grope in darkness; and who find in the dram-shop a momentary oblivion to their miseries?
To these elements of opposition to prohibition we must add another class of men—the professional politicians. These, like the chameleon, take the color of every object they light on. To them the good Lord and the good devil are equally objects of respect, and possible worship; and, having all mental endowments accurately developed, except the endowment of conscience, they hold that all things are legitimate that bring grist to their mill. These will be good prohibitionists when prohibition dances in silver slippers; but now they do duty on the other side.
The above picture contains a very fair analysis of the elements of the vote in opposition to the prohibitory amendment, except that, perhaps, we ought to add the vote in opposition to a well-intended class of men who have no proclivity for liquor, and who, perhaps, could give no better reason for their vote but that they abhor innovations, and are content to do as their fathers and grandfathers did before them.
Notwithstanding, prohibition carried in the State by eight thousand majority. It is noteworthy that six counties, lying along the Missouri River, and having in or near them the cities of Atchison, Leavenworth, Wyandotte, White Cloud and Kansas City, and which also contain the largest foreign-born population in the State, gave heavy majorities against the amendment.
It is self-evident that if the execution of this law is left to the municipal authorities of the above-named cities, or to the officers elected in the above-named counties, then the saloon keepers and liquor dealers will, without let or hindrance, trample under foot both the constitution and laws. The proof of this lies in the fact that, in time past, the liquor dealers have ridden rough-shod over all laws enacted in the interest of temperance. For example, the law provided that they should not sell to boys under age; the law provided that they should not sell on the Lord's day. The law forbids bribing at elections; but the bribery of strong drink at elections, in the cities, has been just as common as the elections; and church members, and even preachers, who were candidates for office, have been blackmailed to get the money to buy the liquor. It will be asked, What, then, do we gain who live in these river counties, and in these cities, by the passage of this prohibitory law? We gain much.
1. Thus far these law-breaking liquor dealers have acted, in carrying on their business, under the shadow and protection of law. This protection is now withdrawn.
2. The government has hitherto been in partnership with liquor dealers in the infamous business of making drunkards. This partnership is now dissolved.
3. The appetite for strong drink is not a natural appetite. It is an appetite artificially created in children, boys and young men. It is not for the public welfare that it should be created at all. The scheme and plan of the popular saloon is to create this appetite, and to strengthen and foster it after it is created.
The whole business of the saloon looks in this direction. To this end are its flashing lights, its glittering decanters, its rainbow tints, its jolly good fellowship and boon companionship, and the bonhomie of the portly saloonkeeper. All these, in the purpose and intent for which they exist, mean the death of the body and the soul of the man that enters these gates that lead down to hell. The saloon is a serpent, with the serpent's fascinating beauty and power to charm, but with the serpent's deadly bite. "At the last it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder." Kansas has wisely ordained that it will not maintain by the public authority and at the public expense poisonous serpents to sting the people to death,
4. Men object: "The selling of liquor will go on, but you will drive the business into dark places and into the hands of disreputable men." To this temperance men reply: "That is just what we want. We wish to take away every vestige of respectability from the man that sells liquor. We intend that it shall be sold—if it must be sold at all—in dark cellars and in back alleys, and that the men that sell liquor shall take rank among the law-breaking and dangerous classes of society,"
5. The one potent charm and omnipotent argument that has served as a gift to blind the eyes and an opiate to lull to sleep the consciences of the municipal authorities of our cities has been the revenue they have derived from liquor license laws. For example, the city of Atchison has derived from this source a revenue of $10,000. This revenue was paid not alone by her own citizens, but by all men who were drawn to the city for purposes of business or pleasure and who could be induced to patronize the saloons. And this has been a perpetual menace to the safety of families living in the country who did business in the city. This revenue is gone. It is hopelessly and irrecoverably dried up. The Missouri river will turn and flow backward towards its source before this revenue, which is the price of blood, like the thirty pieces of silver for which Judas sold his Master, will ever come back again. After Jesus had cast a legion of demons out of the demoniac that dwelt among the tombs, this man was far more impressible with regard to motives addressed to his better nature than while he was possessed by these demons; so we may charitably hope that now, after ten thousand evil demons have been cast out of the hearts of the mayor and common council of the city of Atchison, these dignitaries will be more impressible with regard to motives of morality, humanity, and of the public welfare.
Meantime, temperance men look on the whole business of liquor license as an unspeakable madness. Regarded simply as a question of dollars and cents, they look on it as a horrible nightmare—a hallucination fallen on men nearly allied to that form of mental abberration which carries men to mad-houses and insane asylums, a strange and mysterious perversion of the human faculties. Regarded in its economical aspects, they hold that it would be just as good economy and as much the dictate of common sense, to obtain a revenue by licensing murder, theft, burglary, robbery, and harlotry, as it is to license the sale of intoxicating drinks as a beverage.
It will be seen, then, that prohibition incorporated into the constitution of Kansas, does not, by any means, give us the victory; it only places us in a position to fight a fair and equal battle hereafter. We are, like Israel, shouting triumphantly, "I will sing unto the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider hath he drowned in the Red Sea."
But beyond us are parched and desert sands, poisonous serpents, savage wild beasts and mortal enemies. All these must be conquered before we finally rest in the happy Canaan.
It is now conceded by the best informed actors in this great drama or tragedy, that Pardee Butler, as much or more than any one man, made the prohibition movement in Kansas the marvelous success it is. The generation is yet to come that will rise up to do him rightful honor.
From '54 to '60 Pardee Butler was the Moses to the church in this wilderness, and for years following he was in some sense like Paul, "having the care of all the churches." But from the beginning he was the foremost man by virtue of natural and acquired ability, although a reluctant following was often given because of former habitudes and shibboleths, socially. There were other men in different localities who battled grandly for the truth and sowed the seed of the kingdom with firm and loyal hand: Brethren Yohe and Jackson, of Leavenworth, followed by the Bausermans, Joseph and Henry, Gans of Olathe, Brown of Emporia, White of Manhattan, and others equally worthy,—all pioneers in every good sense, and now all gone to their reward, with the exceptions of Brethren Yohe and the Bausermans. Without being formally chosen Pardee Butler was the recognized leader of these sanctified few, and no home where they entered was too humble, or field where they toiled too barren, for the light of his countenance to cheer, or the strength of his arm to be felt. In the polity and development of the church, as in other fields of moral and social struggle, he was far in advance of the time; and up to the day of his death, this was one of the great burdens that rested upon his heart.
The membership coming to the Territory, and which, of course, formed the nuclei of churches, was a heterogenous compound. In many respects there was no possible assimilation; but so far as the simple tenets of the primitive faith were concerned, there was little or no difference. But as to plurality of bishops in the congregation, their tenure and jurisdiction of office, the relations of comity between sister churches, the duties and powers of an evangelist, the laying on of hands in induction into authority, instrumental music in the congregation, the Sunday-school and its organization, the order of social worship, the mid-week meeting for prayer, and numerous other matters of scriptural life, there were as many shades of opinion as there were of dialects; and the tenacity with which they were maintained, those not familiar with the time and its environments can hardly hope to know. Yet upon all these and kindred questions, Bro. Butler had singularly clear-cut and advanced opinions. He has often said to me, "How very obtuse the churches seem to be on the plain teaching of Scripture. And the preachers are equally ignorant, or else they are willing to go limping and halting, when they could as well and better be easily marching and leading their sanctified hosts to marvelous victory."
He did not feel, or even make manifest, that he recognized his greatness in these directions only as he labored to bring the congregations and their officers up to his ideals.
In the first struggles to bring the scattered congregations into co-operative unity, he was the head and heart of the movement; and through all the varied successes and failures of those non-cohesive times and men, he never lost courage or intimated aught else than the success which now crowns the work.
I regarded him as the finest ecclesiastical historian among us, and because of his knowledge here, coupled with the philosophy that grew out of it, linked to the genius of Christianity itself, he was, by educational intuition, a missionary zealot.
Carey and the Judsons, and Barclay and Livingstone, with all others of like character, were what he termed "ripe fruit" from the Good Tree. He was to the churches in Kansas what these men and women were to the people among whom they labored. Visiting every outpost, gathering the straggling sheep into folds and striving to secure shepherds for them, stripping the fleecy garments from the wolves, uncovering the sophistries of the various polytheisms, immersing the converts and exhorting the saints, the thirty-five years he spent in Kansas were years of severest mental, moral and physical labor; and from which he asked no respite until God called him.
Truthfully this Scripture may be written as his epitaph: "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from henceforth; Yea, saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labors and their works do follow them."