_WORKING OF THE SABBATH-SCHOOL AND TEMPERANCE SOCIETY._
It will now be our purpose to follow some of the results of the
missionary’s labors among these people. In our present narrative we can
notice but comparatively few incidents among the many interesting ones
that transpired, and bring before our reader but few of the characters
connected with the development of the various plans.
In addition to there being two Sunday-schools and one Temperance
Society firmly established, the Christian Church under various
names was most effectually aroused--many of its members being
abundantly blest and their spiritual strength renewed; backsliders
were reclaimed, and sinners awakened and converted: there were also
prayer-meetings held in the different houses among the people.
A general contest, however, was kept up between those opposed to these
institutions, and their defenders. As soon as it was generally known
that the missionary had left, the rum-sellers and their adherents
became bold in their opposition; they appeared to think that, if the
shepherd had gone, the sheep would be scattered. Even some of the
ministers would not come out boldly on the side of this reformation.
Well did Isaiah prophesy, “For the leaders of this people cause them
to err; and they that are led of them are destroyed. Therefore the
Lord shall have no joy in their young men, neither have mercy on their
fatherless and widows: for every one is a hypocrite, and an evil doer,
and every mouth speaketh folly.”
The Temperance Cause met with the most opposition; and some who
stood faithfully by the Sunday-school could not give up old habits;
although they did not particularly oppose the Cause, their support was
weak and doubtful. Those who took no interest in the Sunday-school
were decidedly against temperance. Thus the people became more and
more divided--and the stinging truths of Mr. Truman seemed to set
everything on fire; and the Saviour’s prediction respecting a house
being divided against itself, seemed to be literally fulfilled. Every
demonstration of truth was met with increased hostility; and, like
Herod and Pilate, even enemies were made friends in condemning Christ.
This, however, only drove the faithful few nearer to the Rock of Ages,
which was their “stronghold in the day of trouble;” it made them
“search the Scriptures” more, and more vigilant in prayer; relying upon
God for help. Hence they maintained their ground, and in time were
able to make inroads into the enemy’s country, taking captives and
plucking brands from the eternal burnings. Those of the opposition,
in order to fully carry out their principles, were driven to indorse
and defend the lowest morality, and the coldest and most formal type
of Christianity--and were compelled to yield to the caprices of the
ungodly by excusing their faults.
In order more fully to impress the truth upon the heart, we will
now give a brief narrative of the characters and lives of two
families--representatives of the parties formed through the labors of
the missionary. The circumstances bringing him to our notice, also
introduce us to the family of Mr. Steele--the other family is that
of Mr. Brown, of the same neighborhood. Through the former will be
illustrated the effects of opposing religious training as carried on in
the Sunday-school; and through the latter will be shown the inestimable
blessings resulting from such training, and the value of vital
godliness.
Mr. Steele, as we are already aware, had two children, George and
Mary--also a wife, who was naturally a most excellent person; but the
influence of her cold-hearted husband was not without its effect upon
her life. He claimed to be a church member, but he had only a “name to
live.” After years of constant association with such a person, we need
not wonder that she quietly submitted to him.
Mr. Brown and family, also consisting of a wife and two children, had
always been on terms of intimacy with Mr. Steele’s family. On Saturday
afternoon, previous to the opening of the Sunday-school at Clear Creek
Settlement, George and Mary Steele went to Mr. Brown’s on an errand,
and received permission to spend an hour with their friends, Henry and
Eliza; the Sunday-school was the all-absorbing topic of conversation,
and although George and Mary knew that their father was opposed to
anything of the kind, they still hoped that they would be allowed
to go on the following day. No sooner had they reached home, than
they began to tell their mother, in a very excited manner, about the
Sunday-school. Just as their excitement was about at its height, their
father entered the room, and in a very gruff manner asked, what “all
this fuss” was about. As the song of the robin ceases at the crack of
the rifle, so suddenly ceased the story and the joy of these children.
They looked to their mother for help; she had no hope of a patient
hearing, so she merely said:
“The children were telling about the Sunday-school, and”----
“Sunday-school! yes, they were over there at Brown’s, and have had
their heads filled with nonsense--have they?”
The mother’s lips were sealed. The humility and silence that greeted
him only vexed him the more; so, seeing no opposition offered, he
commenced again on the aggressive. Addressing his wife in tones of
haughty reproach, he said:
“I’d like to know whether you and these little brats are going to side
with every whining loafer that comes about?”
Then turning to the children, who were crying, he said:
“I’d like to know what you are bawling about? If you don’t soon shut up
you’ll wish you had.”
The children again looked at their mother; but as she was still silent,
George stammered out, “We want to go to Sunday-school, father.”
Little Mary, with her eyes sparkling in tears, now ventured with,
“Do, father, let us go--won’t you, father?”
This was said with such a beseeching voice and hopeful look, that
for the instant the storm was lulled; and had the mother joined her
children in their petition, perhaps a limited privilege might have
been obtained for them. But she failed! The precious moment went by
unimproved, and all was lost!
The father would not listen to what his better feelings suggested;
so he told the children decidedly that they should not go to the
Sunday-school, and if they did not stop crying he would punish them
severely. After he left the house, their mother endeavored to console
them; but they felt that they had been unjustly treated, and wished
to know _why_ they could not go to Sunday-school. Their mother did
not attempt to give the reason; for she, too, felt that they had been
wronged.
Supper-time came, but the children’s grief had taken their appetite,
so their mother excused them from coming to the table. Their father,
finding that they were not coming, and knowing the reason, whipped
them severely and forced them to come; they sat down and tried to eat,
but every mouthful seemed to choke them. The mother’s eyes were dim
with tears, and the meal was eaten in silence. The father’s face was
flushed, and he hurried through his supper, being anxious to get away
from the presence of those whom he had wronged. When he had gone out,
the mother again tried to soothe the children, but their father’s
absence only gave them the liberty to sob aloud; their mother, fearing
that he might return and hear them, bade them go out to the barn and
hunt the eggs, and be good children.
“We want to go to Sunday-school and learn to be good,” said they. Every
word of this went straight to the heart of the mother. The children
went and did what their mother had desired; as they staid out longer
than she thought necessary, she became troubled and started in search
of them. Hearing George’s voice, she listened and found that he was
praying, and Mary was repeating the words after him. A consciousness
of having failed in the performance of her duty filled her heart with
anguish, and she went into the barn and joined them in prayer; but her
faith was weak--she feared her husband more than God. She resolved,
however, to make the attempt to plead in behalf of the children; going
into the house, she found her husband trying to find something to
interest him in an old newspaper. Her heart beat between hope and fear;
taking a seat she commenced her petition.
“Is your head turned too?” he sneeringly asked. “I guess, the next
thing I know, you’ll have an agency and the pretty loafer lounging
around here. But let him come,” he continued; “just let soap-stick
come; I’ll kick him out of my house so quick, that he won’t know what
hurt him.”
The wife’s heart was too full for utterance, so she said nothing.
Construing her silence into contempt, he resumed fiercely.
“_You’ve_ been poking this stuff into the children’s heads yourself,
have you? I’ll beat it out of them, mind you!” said he, shaking his
fist in the air. The mother’s resolution was gone, and she meekly
replied, “No, I have not said anything.” She yielded all for the sake
of appeasing her husband. After berating the missionary and making some
threats about “this fuss in the family,” Mr. Steele went to bed.
Had this father but consented to “prove all things,” as the apostle had
recommended, all of the unhappiness now existing in his family might
have been avoided.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]