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.
[Illustration: 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.