CHAPTER V.
The third year on the district brought the usual routine of duties and hardships. By the help of Brother John Dodds, who gave me fifty dollars, I was enabled to purchase a horse and buggy, paying $125 for the entire outfit. This arrangement relieved me of much walking. The horses and mules occasionally used during the previous years were borrowed or hired. My muleback riding, however, was suddenly broken off by a rather painful incident which occurred one night. Striking a bit of good road, I spurred the animal into a gallop, but something happened; its forelegs seemed to give way, and it turned a complete somersault. With my arms extended, I went on, like a flying-machine, several feet before I struck the ground. The fall nearly killed me. I rolled about in agony for a while before I thought of the mule, but when I was able to get up I observed the treacherous beast leisurely eating grass in the fence corner near by, as if nothing had happened. I never liked a mule after that, and, to the best of my knowledge, have not been on one since.
I never thought it out of place to have a little innocent fun once in a while. “Laugh and grow fat,” is an old adage which has more in it than some people suppose. A long, wry face is a poor sign of piety. To assume a look of seriousness, as though religion were made up of clouds and shadows and disappointments, is a false representation of the Christian life. If any person on earth has a right to be cheerful and to smile all over his face, it is the one who honestly endeavors to serve God, and has his eyes throneward all the while. Yes—
“A little nonsense now and then
Is relished by the wisest men.”
Certainly, then, there is nothing wrong in those not so wise enjoying it.
One blustery March day, after a long, irksome ride over the hills, I was passing a farm-house where two young lads were chopping wood. Here is an opportunity, I thought, to have a little sport; so, reining in my horse, I called, “Say, boys, can you tell me how far it is to where I want to go?” In an instant one of them replied, “Yes, sir; three lengths of a fool; get off and measure.” It was no time to talk back, or to interpose objections to such rudeness with a presiding elder. I had gotten myself into the difficulty, so had to get out as gracefully as possible. Bidding them the time of day, I passed on, descanting in an undertone upon the subject of depravity, and wondering what was to become of the rising generation. Since then I have deemed it wise to approach the average boy somewhat cautiously, as one never knows when or in what direction his gun will go off.
About this time, and perhaps in connection with this trip, I had an amusing experience with a brother who appeared before the quarterly conference for license to preach. When asked to state his views on depravity, he frankly admitted that he did not fully understand the doctrine, but said he believed that man was “teetotally deprived.” Before the examination was over the conference was clear in its judgment that it could not afford to credential a man who was deprived of common sense.
During the year it was my privilege and pleasure to convey the greetings of my conference first to the West Virginia Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and then to the Baptist Association of the State. Both were large, influential bodies, and received with marked cordiality the messenger sent by the United Brethren.
While our people of the conference were loyal, and believed in a robust, aggressive denominationalism, they were free from that narrow, bigoted sectarianism which is so unlike the religion we profess. They were cordial and generous in their treatment of others, and always ready to grasp the hand of fellowship, no matter by whom extended. They believed in union, and do yet. As far back as 1870, the following was spread upon the conference minutes:
“Whereas, The tendency of the times is toward a more intimate union among the various religious denominations of the country; and, whereas, negotiations are now going on between the Evangelical Association and the United Brethren in Christ, looking toward their union; therefore,
“Resolved, That we, as a conference, entertain the idea of such a union most favorably, and hope that it can be effected on terms alike honorable to both denominations.”
Bishop Glossbrenner again presided at the next session of conference, which convened in Parkersburg. The aggregate salary reported by my district for pastoral support was $2,036, and for the presiding elder, $411.21. The thirty-four pastors in the entire conference received, all told, $6,535, or an average each of $192. Think of it, ye who scan these lines! Men of God working twelve months for a pittance; men of brains and character, of devotion and heroism; think, too, of their families! The wife and mother at home continually, with but few social, or other advantages; the little ones barefooted the year ’round, and sometimes far removed from school and church—all that the husband and father might preach, and win sinners to the Cross. Glorious record, this! the dear Lord has it in his book.
Does some one ask how our men died? Like conquerors. Awhile before conference William H. Diddle, my predecessor on the district, and a comrade in toil, was called to the heavenly home. The end was beautiful, and found his soul in rapture. When far out in the river he shouted back, “Do not be excited. If this is death, I am not afraid to die.” His life had been as pure as a sunbeam. His unselfishness was a marvel to many. He literally gave himself for the good of others, and thus became one with his divine Christ, both in sacrifice and service. As he entered the gates I think Jesus said: “Stand back, Gabriel; stand back, Michael; stand back, all ye angelic hosts, and make room for one who must be next only to myself.” What a change from a poor, three-hundred-dollar circuit!
For the fourth time I was sent back to the district, but I returned with the feeling that this must be the last year. In my report to conference I had asked to be relieved from district work, but the brethren did not see fit to grant the request.
I am, and always have been opposed to long terms of office. The duties entailed by positions of trust usually are such as to interfere with systematic study. This is the main reason why many officials narrow down in their pulpit work to a few sermons. They do not have time to prepare new discourses. Then there is a tendency among those who hold office, whether in the annual conference or general Church, to develope a spirit of bossism, which is incompatible with United Brethrenism. Perhaps the men in office are not so much at fault as is the system which keeps them there. They somehow get the notion that they must have a finger in everything, and that nothing can be done exactly right without them. There may be, and are notable exceptions, of course, but they are few and widely separated.
Having been elected to the General Conference, with Z. Warner and E. Harper as associates, I attended the meeting of that body which occurred in Lisbon, Iowa, the following May. This was all new to me, but the conference was hardly so interesting as were the vast prairies of Illinois and Iowa, and the marvelous products of the great farms to be seen on every hand. In feeding our horses and cattle in West Virginia, we almost invariably allotted to each just so many ears of corn. Even the swine we expected to butcher were given a daily allowance; but in Iowa I was surprised to see chickens, hogs, cattle, and everything else given free access to the compile. But such is their way of doing out West. The rich soil is transmuted into corn, the corn into pork and beef, and these into gold, which has developed on the material side a wonderful country.
During each of the four years I spent on the district, we held a ministerial institute. This portable school of the prophets was suggested by Rev. E. Harper, now a presiding elder in North Nebraska, as far back as 1875. A whole week at a time would be spent in hearing recitations and lectures, and the work was most thorough. Our studies embraced Old and New Testament history, systematic theology, Christian ethics, homiletics, church history, mental and moral philosophy, English grammar, the English Bible, etc. Some of the textbooks used were gone through again and again in the course of a few years. We used charts, maps, the blackboard—in fact, everything that would aid in the study of the Word, quicken a desire for knowledge, and increase the preacher’s efficiency in the pulpit. Dr. Warner was at first our main preceptor; and what a teacher he was! thorough, clear, and enthusiastic; he knew what he wanted to say, and how to say it. He was mighty in the Scriptures; and as a pulpiteer and platform speaker had no equal in his conference, and perhaps nowhere else in the Church. Later, others took part in the work of instruction, which greatly pleased him, relieving him of much of the burden assumed in the outset.
A resolution was adopted to the effect that any preacher who wilfully absented himself from these gatherings, designed especially for his mental and moral improvement, should be left without work until all others had been employed. This policy was drastic, to be sure, but in the end it proved a blessing to our ministry. Much of the clerical material we had on hand was exceedingly raw, but genuine, nevertheless, and susceptible of being wrought into a highly-finished and useful product. One young brother affirmed, publicly, that the crucifixion occurred seventy years before the flood; another, in preaching on Daniel in the lion’s den, said he didn’t know how he got to Babylon unless he had been shipwrecked. Both of these were good men, and one of them proved very successful as an itinerant. Cases of such dense ignorance were rare, of course, but to such brethren the institute was of incalculable value, as history, geography, chronology, and other features of biblical study were made a specially. But let no one be deceived into thinking that all, or a majority were illiterates. Far from it Some were giants in the pulpit, and were heard with gladness by the multitudes. One after another, other conferences took up the institute idea, until it prevails to-day in one form or another in nearly all the conferences, and no doubt will remain a permanent fixture in the methods of the Church. The plan is a good one, and commends itself especially to young men who are striving for self-improvement in the pulpit, and along lines of practical work. However, before the institute should come the college and seminary. At a time like the present, when money is abundant, and the beneficiary aid of the church may be drawn upon, every one looking toward the ministry should seek and secure the help proffered by these great institutions. The character and mission of any denomination depend upon the type of its preachers. The United Brethren Church is no exception to this rule.
Grafton was the seat of the next conference, Bishop J. Dickson directing its business. The year had been fairly successful in various ways, but the salaries remained exceedingly low. Over the conference they average $202.88. My own was $433.18, with the addition of $74.50 in presents. Of the thirty-seven charges reported, only two paid as much as $400; five paid from $300 to $350; eleven from $200 to $300; while all the rest fell below $200. But the brethren were ready and willing to try it again. The secretary says at the close of the proceedings: “The unanimity among the preachers and delegates, and the deep solicitude manifested by all for the prosperity of the conference, made the entire session remarkably pleasant.” Referring to the Sabbath evening service, he adds: “At the close a number of the ministers made brief remarks relative to their past hardships, and bespoke the prayers of the conference for success during the coming year. This part of the service was deeply affecting.” Yes, I remember the occasion well. Dr. Landis, of the Seminary, was present, and wept with the rest of us, as he listened to the story of more than one who was willing to “endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.”
The following will indicate the courageous attitude of the conference on questions of moral reform:
“Whereas, the use of tobacco is expensive, filthy, unnecessary, and, therefore, an evil, and,
“Whereas, it is especially unbecoming for ministers of the gospel to surrender to an acquired appetite, defile the body, the temple of the Holy Ghost, and thus, by example, encourage the young to do likewise; and,
“Whereas, this evil cannot be remedied so long as ministers freely and openly indulge in it, therefore,
“Resolved, 1. That from this time forward no person be granted license to preach by this Annual Conference who persists in the use of tobacco.
“Resolved, 2. That all licentiates who indulge this habit be required to give it up before taking upon themselves the vows of ordination.”
The significance of this action will be more fully appreciated when it is understood that West Virginia is a tobacco-producing States and that its use, in one form or another, is pretty general among the people. A report on temperance, which mercilessly arraigned the liquor traffic, and its political abetters, was also adopted. Here is a sentence or two from it: “Believing as we do that prohibition is both humane and holy, we can have no sympathy for a policy, or a Christianity that ignores it at the ballot-box.” Men who were willing to work for a pittance, which meant that they and their families were to go scantily fed, and half clothed, all for the sake of redeeming their native State, could not be expected to condone the offenses of the liquor dealer, or to have decent respect for those who did.
House Where the Bishop First Went to Housekeeping and Where His First Child Was Born, Grafton, W. Va.
The next two years were spent in Parkersburg. During the first we had a blessed revival which continued several weeks; in all, more than seventy joined the Church. But during the second year the work was hindered by circumstances beyond human control. A great sorrow came to our home. By degrees the shadows deepened, until the mother of my three children bade us a final adieu, and pushed out into the unseen. God pity and help the itinerant to whom such an experience comes! But my own mother, now of such precious memory, was ready to take the little ones, and to bestow upon them that wealth of care and love which never fails to enrich the life.
The next year was given to the financial management of the West Virginia Normal and Classical Academy, located at Buckhannon. While the school did excellent work for a few years, it eventually went down for want of material support. In view of the losses and disappointments and alienations caused by its failure, I am not sure that the conference did a wise thing in starting it. Little colleges have their advantages, I grant, but trying to operate one at every crossroads on faith and enthusiasm, is too much of a good thing.
By consent of the conference I agreed to give a few months to the business management and associate editorship of the West Virginia Freeman, the State prohibition organ. During this period I made a partial canvass of the State in the interest of a prohibition amendment then pending. It would require a whole chapter to tell of my experiences with the old political partisans, some of whom fairly went into spasms at the very mention of prohibition. Our presidential candidate, John P. St. John, had defeated James G. Blaine, so the Republicans affirmed; hence they were ready to vote against anything, or anybody, the angel Gabriel not excepted, who believed on any point as St. John did. Many of these were Christians, so-called, and some of them members of my own Church. I knew them well; and be it said to their everlasting shame, that they went against the amendment, just as did every whiskyite in the State.
Under our system of government the ballot has in it a moral element, and therefore will meet us at the bar of final reckoning. It not only has to do with our political, industrial, and educational affairs, but with the church and family as well. What show will a man have at the last day whose ballot has constantly belied his profession as a Christian? I have never been able to understand how he could enthrone his Lord in the affairs of state by voting a ticket perfectly satisfactory to the drunkard-maker. It remains for an allwise God to determine what disposition shall be made of these vicious ballots when the judgment day comes. Personally, I have no respect for, or confidence in any United Brethren or member of any other church who, knowingly, votes for a man for any office who is opposed to my Christ and the cause for which he stands.
Being ever ready to “speak my piece” against the saloon and its allies, I was constantly stirring up a “hornet’s nest” over the business. When I spoke against it, whether in public or private, I never hesitated to pay my respects to the machine politician, since I regarded him and rum as closely related. As the result, some of the newspapers and office-seekers got after me with a vengeance. This I confess was to my liking, since I felt sure I was making at least some kind of impression upon them. Then it gave me a chance to answer their criticisms, and puncture their fallacies. The following extract from one of my replies may be of interest to the reader. The principle laid down will always hold good:
“All at once the saloonist and politician are becoming greatly concerned over the question of ‘pure and undefiled religion’; and well they may, for if religion is effectually taken into politics they will as certainly go out. This they fully understand, hence yell themselves hoarse in trying to divert attention when the pulpit begins to let the light in upon their devilish business. While a man is a minister of the gospel, he is also a citizen in common with other men. The fact that he pays taxes, lives under, and is subject to the laws of our commonwealth, makes him such. Then most assuredly he has the same right as other men to be heard upon great political issues that affect the well-being of his country. If not, why not? Touching all moral and political affairs which have to do with the home, the individual, and the general good of the community, the pulpit has ever stood at the front, and so it ever will, unless it sells out to the saloon.
“The truth is, under a government like ours, presumably Christian, all political questions have a moral phase, and to a greater or less extent involve the question of religion. In other words, every question in politics touches at some point the work of the pulpit, therefore it is right and proper for the minister to discuss before his people, prudently, of course, the moral bearings of all these issues. There is nothing that the liquor ring, and old-line politicians would rather do than to stifle the utterances of the pulpit, for well they know that the molding of sentiment, and the training of the moral forces by which the eternal God proposes to overthrow and dash in pieces their strength, must there begin.”
In May of this year, 1885, I attended my second General Conference, which met at Fostoria, Ohio, in company with Z. Warner, E. Harper, and S. J. Graham. The occasion was an historic one. Radicalism was given a black eye; the forces of the Church were realigned, and the clouds which had so long hung over our Zion were pierced by the sunlight of a new day.