Chapter XIV: 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.