Augustus Adolphus Dodger, as usual, did yeoman's service for those who employed him, and prostituted his really fine speaking talent to the base purposes of giving impetus to a cause that every year—in England and America—is sending over a hundred and fifty thousand human beings to drunkards' graves and to a drunkard's eternity, and which is costing civilized Christendom every year over a thousand million of dollars. He proved to be a complete master of that shallow sophistry which generally carries the unthinking multitudes; and none knew better than he how to appeal to the selfish instincts of those whom he was addressing. He demonstrated to them, as they thought conclusively, that the Temperance Act would have the effect of entirely destroying the market for their barley and rye, and even depreciate the price of their farms. Of course his nonsense was received as it should be by the educated and thoughtful; but it was not to these he was appealing, but to the ignorant, illiterate masses, and upon them it had the effect he desired.
Personally he was held in contempt by many of the respectable among those whose cause he, for hire, advocated. They admired his talents while they despised the man, and would no more associate with him than English gentlemen would with a demagogue who, because they knew he could influence a certain class, was hired to do the dirty work of their party. In fact, he was despised by the better class of hotel keepers, and was always called the "Dodger" by them, being viewed in much the same light as the treacherous miscreant was by the Italian nobleman of the dark ages, who, because he was skilled in the use of the stiletto, was employed to remove a hated enemy.
Capt. McWriggler and his western friend were also on the ground, speaking and working to carry the repeal. It was well understood they were catering for the liquor vote, and were willing to resort to any means, however low, to accomplish their end.
Not only were these unprincipled hirelings, and would-be M.P.'s, on the stump, to assist the liquor party in their endeavors, but, astonishing to relate, there was also a minister of the Gospel, who was actually engaged as a co-adjutor of these men and their drunken battalions. The person to whom I refer was a certain Mr. Turnwell. Dryden's picture of a celebrated personage in his day would equally serve as a description of him; for he certainly was "everything by turns and nothing long." He had, in his early manhood, belonged to a certain church, and owed the education and the culture he possessed to it; but because that body did not, as he thought, recognize his exalted ability, nor give him such charges as a man of his exceptional powers should occupy, he left them in disgust, and from that time forward was their most rabid opponent. In the charge he occupied immediately preceding his present one, finding that his leading men were in sympathy with the Dunkin Act, he gave it his actual support—stumping the country in its behalf—and even after coming to Bayton he spoke in favor of it; but receiving a hint from some who financially, were main pillars of his church, he suddenly veered round and became one of the strongest champions for its repeal. If he had possessed the smallest modicum of good sense he would, after changing his views—remembering his former course—have remained neutral, or, in a modest manner, have endeavored to convince men he was influenced simply by his convictions; but he was so lost to good taste and what he owed to his holy office, as a professed priest of Him who said, "Woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh," as to take the stump as a blatant opponent of what the great mass of the good and pure of the county were advocating in order to arrest the ravages of the greatest curse that ever destroyed mankind. He soon became a recognized leader of the rum party, and there is no doubt he influenced some, as he was constantly quoting Scripture and twisting its meaning to suit his purpose, conveniently forgetting to mention those passages that would consign the major portion of those whose cause he was advocating to everlasting infamy and woe. As might be expected, the party he was assisting pointed to him as a model clergyman; many of them who had not read a passage of Scripture for years, having shaken the dust off their Bibles, turned to the verses to which he referred, and when in the taverns, so intoxicated as to be scarcely able to stand, they, with maudlin utterances, and serio-comic grimaces, would unctiously quote these hackneyed texts in the pauses which intervened between their drinks.
The night the returns came in the liquor party, finding they had carried the county by a large majority, had a grand torch-light procession, and the "Dodger," with Capt. McWriggler, his western friend, Ald. Toper, the president of the association, Rivers, Bottlesby and Capt. Flannigan, were elevated into an open "bus," and drawn by their enthusiastic admirers through the principal streets of Bayton. They had hoisted a broom in the front of their vehicle as an emblem of their victory.
"What does that mane, Mike?" queried one of the army of ragged, blear-eyed tatterdemalions of his mate.
"Why, don't you know, Patsy," replied his friend, "that it manes our party have made a clane swape of the cowld-wather men?"
As the procession swept on the band played "See the conquering hero comes," and Augustus Adolphus Dodger, who was vain enough to suppose it was all meant for him, stood smirking, smiling, and raising his hat to the mob of the "great unwashed" with as much pride as if he had been a mighty hero receiving the homage of his countrymen after returning from a splendid victory.
If a stranger had formed his opinion of the citizens of Bayton from those who made up that procession it certainly would not have been a favorable one; for respectable men in the ranks were the exception, not the rule. It appeared, for the time being, the denizens of the lowest dens of the town and the surrounding country were holding a drunken Saturnalia; for, as numerous kegs of beer were rolled out into the street and tapped, while liquor of a much stronger character was furnished without stint, it was not long before it was almost literally a huge reeling mass of drunkenness. Ever and anon some hero, smitten by the deadly shaft of king alcohol, would tumble from the ranks of the ragged regiment, his place being immediately supplied by another volunteer, who was also willing to vigorously tackle the enemy, though he should fall in the conflict.
It only required a slight effort of memory to decide as to the vast superiority of the virtuous Christian band, who were victors in the former contest, to the reeling host of Bacchanalian revellers, who were now, with howling songs of exultation, celebrating their victory. And yet in some of the leading journals the next day there were editorials rejoicing over what they termed "the triumph of liberty," though, if they were open to conviction, they had but to observe the character of the majority of those who were celebrating their conquest to conclude it was for the time being a supremacy of vice over virtue, of brute force over principle, and of selfishness over philanthrophy. How respectable papers of acknowledged ability could join in the brutal shout of the ruffianly host—thus lending their powerful influence to sweep away the barriers which the good and true had been endeavoring to erect, that the onward tides of vice, crime, and misery, might be kept back—we will allow them to answer? We will observe, however, that in our opinion, it is not an indication of wisdom in a great public journal to array itself against the great forces of temperance and morality; for we believe it will discover, possibly when it is too late, it has destroyed its influence with those whose good opinion was best worth possessing.