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Eld. C. E. Gillett and Rachel E., His Wife, 1912 

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The author dedicates this book 
to the whole wide world, pray- 
ing that it may be the means of 
accomplishing at least a little 
good in the name of the Holy 
Child Jesus. 


The undertaking of writing a history of my life 
work is somewhat embarrassing to me, as it will be 
necessary for me to use so many personal pronouns. 
Had it not been for this timidity this history would 
have been written long ago. 

I am not on the witness stand pledging myself to 
tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the 
truth ; but I do pledge myself to tell the truth, but not 
all the truth, as some of the truth might not look well 
in print, or be of benefit or interest to anyone, and my 
object in view is that, at least, some one may be bene- 
fited by my experience on the frontier as an old-fash- 
ioned Dunker preacher. I shall endeavor to say very 
little of the results of my life's work, as in my opinion 
I have accomplished so little good it would not be 
worth telling, and I might tell something that might 
seem to the reader to be boastful; for when on the 
Verde Mission, in Arizona, I was taught one of the 
best lessons in my life. 

In my correspondence with that old Soldier of the 
Cross, the late Elder David Norcross, he wrote to me 
thus, " Brother Charley, I read between the lines in 
your letter that you are somewhat discouraged in your 
work. Do not be discouraged, do your best and leave 


the results with the Lord." That advice has tided me 
over many hard trials, both within and without. 

But as I have declared that what I speak will be 
the truth and founded on facts, although I don't claim 
infallibility, since I know the mistakes of my life have 
been many ; so if the reader should find many errors in 
this work, please attribute it to the head, not to the 

Now under our present system of pastors and the 
call of college men and D. D.'s, to fill our pulpits, and 
the fact that I was not called from college but from 
following the plow, and that I am now past the allotted 
days of men, threescore and ten, my opportunity in the 
pulpit is limited; so I am sending out an account of 
some of my life work, supplemented with a number of 
my pioneer sermons, praying God's blessing to go with 
them and hoping and praying that the reader may take 
this narrative in the same spirit in which the writer has 
endeavored to give it. Eld. C. E. Gillett. 


I gratefully acknowledge my indebted- 
ness to Eld. Walter Swihart and Prof. S. 
J. Miller for their valuable assistance in 
helping me to prepare this work for the 
press; and also to Ellen Fricke, of 148 
South Mount Vernon Avenue, San Ber- 
nardino, Calif., Mrs. Elmer Long and 
Miss Orpha Statler, of Glendale, Ariz., 
who have done my typing without money 
and without price. 

The Author. 


Chapter Page 

I. Childhood 11 

II. Early Life in Missouri 17 

III. First Acquaintance With the Brethren . . 25 

IV. The Prodigal 29 

V. My Father's Death 33 

VI. Home Again 37 

VII. A Full Surrender 41 

VIII. Elected to the Ministry 47 

IX. Lessons Learned 53 

X. In the Ozarks 57 

XI. My First Trip to Arizona 69 

XII. To Texas 75 

XIII. Sunny Arizona 79 

XIV. Opening the Verde Mission 87 

XV. A Fast Ride 97 

XVI. Development of the Mission 105 

XVII. Cowboys 107 

XVIII. Reminiscences Ill 


XIX Things Prehistoric 113 

XX. Mining 119 

XXI. Wayside Barroom 125 

XXII. To Northern California 129 

XXIII. To Imperial Valley 131 

XXIV. Back to Arizona 137 

XXV. Our Trip East 143 

XXVI. The Golden Wedding Day 149 

XXVII. The Golden Wedding Anniversary 153 

XXVIII. Reunion Day 159 

XXIX. Father's Seventieth Birthday 165 

XXX. Sermon on Baptism 169 

XXXI. Sermon from 2 Timothy 4 : 7, 8 185 

XXXII. Revelation 197 

XXXIII. All Kinds of Houses 209 



I shall start my first chapter by telling something I 
do not really know to be true, while I must have been 
there, yet I do not remember the event; still, I have 
the testimony of my father and mother, and I have 
always taken it for a fact, so I shall expect my readers 
to do the same. On March 6, 1857, in Prarie Rond 
Township, Kalamazoo County, Michigan, about five 
miles west of Schoolcraft, then known as the west 
woods, I first opened my eyes to the light of day and 
claimed a home with John and Mary Ann Gillett. I 
don't remember whether there was much display of the 
event, but I have some good reasons to believe I was 
welcome, from the fact that I was the first boy, and 
that they boarded, clothed and educated me to the 
best of their ability, without money and without price. 
They must have loved me more than I ever realized 
until I had children of my own. Oh, that we could 
teach children to understand more about the love of 
father and mother (and our Heavenly Father), of 
their care and protection, and their sacrifices. The 
children surely would do more for them than they do, 
and we would have a better world and they fewer re- 
grets when they are old. 

Yes, I was the first boy in our family, but I was 



preceded by a half sister, Betsey Eleanor Welch, born 
to my mother by a former marriage, and a sister Alice, 
who was twenty-two months my senior. My father 
was the son of Hosea and Hannah Gillett, who moved 
from Wayne . County, New York, to Ohio, then to 
Hillsdale County, Mich., where he raised a very large 
family. I have known only three of my father's broth- 
ers, namely, Noah, Albert, and William. My mother's 
maiden name was Edmonds, of Old Vermont stock. 
Her father's name was Reuben, and she was the young- 
est of eleven children, all of whom lived to have fami- 
lies of their own. The first great event I remember 
was that on Oct. 2, 1862, I had a little brother born. 
He was named Willard Franklin, and now lives at 
Holtville, Calif. 

The next important thing which I remember was my 
father going to war. I well remember him and my 
Uncle Noah and some others, marching off to the bar- 
racks at Niles, Mich. I started to go with them, but 
father said I should return home. It must be borne in 
mind that my parents were not members of the Tunker 
Church, and not overreligious, although at one time 
members of the Protestant Methodist Church. Mother 
held on until death, but father apostatized and I was 
reared to be a war dog ; but remember the old proverb, 
" A wise man sometime changes, but fools never do." 

I started to school when I was five years old, in an 


old log schoolhouse. It had slab benches, with no 
backs to lean against. Having one and one-half miles 
to walk, I became so tired one day that I lay down dur- 
ing school time and went to sleep. The teacher pun- 
ished me by standing me on the table and putting a 
split stick on my nose and a girl's bonnet on my head. 
It seemed that this was not enough, for I stood there 
brave as a lion; so she had all the pupils point their 
ringers at me and shame me. Of course, at this I 
wilted and, like a baby, began to cry. The teacher then 
also wilted and snatched me from the table in a hurry. 
I have often thought she was punished more than I 
was. School days were different then from what they 
are now. I don't believe there was a lead pencil in the 
entire school, and slate pencils were so scarce that if 
I got one I had to cut it in two and divide with sister. 
Books also were very scarce, so we both had to study 
from the same one. 

One winter, when I was ten or eleven years old, I 
had commenced to study Thompson's Practical Arith- 
metic and was still going to the same log schoolhouse 
to a teacher by the name of Mary McCain, who after- 
wards married Nathan Kinney; both are still living. 
One day I was sitting idle in the schoolroom and the 
teacher told me to get busy, but I did not heed her. 
She told me again, but still I paid no attention to her. 
She then stood me up on the floor, and by that time I 


became frightened and began to work. I must have 
been nervous and, as I had worn my slate pencil down 
to about one-half inch in length I lost my finger hold 
on it and it slipped and went rolling down to a large 
crack in the floor. I was not courageous enough to tell 
the teacher, but stood there like a dummy. When the 
teacher saw that I was still idle, she asked me why I 
was not ciphering. I told her that my pencil had rolled 
under the floor. She told me to go down after it. I 
said, " I will if you make me." She replied, " I will 
make you," and told me to take up the board. I again 
replied that I would not, and as the school was in the 
edge of the timber she sent out a boy for two whips. 
He soon returned with two real hickories. The teacher 
again told me to lift the board and get the pencil and 
I said, " No." She then took up the board herself, and 
gave me another chance, but still I was stubborn as a 
mule, so she began to give me what I deserved. Oh, 
how she did wallop it on my back, until my nose be- 
gan to bleed a stream out of both nostrils ! The teacher 
became frightened and sent me out of doors, where I 
stuffed snow up my nose until it stopped bleeding. I 
was too sore to come back to school for several days. 
If I live to be as old as Methuselah I shall never forget 
that licking. It was the last licking I ever got in 
school, but as I am penning this story, oh, how I wish I 
had minded my teacher ! 


Fifty-eight years later I was back there and had 
Willie Terry — one of my old schoolmates — show me 
the spot where the old schoolhouse stood. I was on 
the same spot an old, gray -headed man! As I pon- 
dered over the past, I thought of that good teacher and 
wished that I had minded her. If I could have found 
that pencil I would have kept it for a relic. I visited 
the teacher, who is still living, and reminded her of 
the incident. She said she had forgotten all about it, 
and I replied that if she had been in my place she 
would never have forgotten it. • 

In the fall of 1868, when I was eleven, we emigrated 
to Missouri in covered wagons. I either rode horse- 
back or drove a team. We crossed the Mississippi 
River at Quincy on a ferryboat on election day, when 
Grant was elected for the first time. 

We passed over the Missouri River at Boonville on 
a ferryboat at the time the Missouri, Kansas & Texas 
railroad was in construction. We located in Henry 
County, twelve miles west of Clinton, in the fork of 
Big Creek and Grand River. We could then drive 
from Sedalia to Fort Scott, Kans., without going 
through many lanes, just cross-cut. I don't know how 
much further we might have gone without passing 
through a lane (a Missouri term for a fenced road), 
but I suppose we could have continued to the Rockies. 

This photo of C. E. Gillett was taken from an old 
tintype, which was taken in Schoolcraft, Kalama- 
zoo Co., Michigan, in 1864. The author was 
then seven years old 


Early Life in Missouri 

In our new home we were not looked upon with 
the greatest favor by the settlers, for we were not their 
kind. Those who crossed the Mississippi River from 
the East were called (in those days) Yankees. The 
North and South had not yet been united. In a literal 
sense they were united, but in mind and spirit there 
was still a barrier between them. So it was not the 
most pleasant place for a boy to live, but I could have 
got on better had I known enough to keep my mouth 
shut, which was a hard thing for me to do. I sup- 
pose those who know me best would say that I have not 
altogether overcome this failing. However, it often 
is necessary to open one's mouth if he has something 
to say which should be said, provided it is at the right 
time and place. 

I well remember standing on Big Creek bridge, argu- 
ing politics with Sam Ferris. He was three or four 
years my senior and almost as large again as I was. To 
top it off, he held me by the ankles, head down, over 
the bridge. If his hold had slipped I would not have 
been here to tell the story. He said, " I am going to 
hold you here until you promise to vote the Democratic 
ticket." I gritted my teeth and said, " Never I" 



He finally lifted me back over the railing and let me 
go, and I was, and still am, glad of it. Naturally, after 
that we were not very good friends. About three years 
later, when I weighed only eighty-five pounds and he 
was a man grown, weighing one hundred and fifty 
pounds, we were playing blackman at school. With 
very little provocation, or practically no reason at all, 
he struck me on the side of my head and staggered me 
about ten feet. Before I could get my balance he hit 
me again in the same place, and my head and shoulders 
struck the ground first. Ere I could get up he jumped 
on me with his feet and stamped until he seemed to be 
satisfied, but he was not, for he repeated this three 
times. My, but I was glad when he quit ! He probably 
would have ceased sooner if I had said " Enough," but 
I was either too plucky or too frightened to say that. 
I was pounded until I was mellow and injured in a way 
that promised to be for life, but the injury was over- 
come in later years. Of course, our friendship was 
not improved by the transaction, and from that time on 
we did not speak to each other for years. 

But time passed on until each of us had a family of 
his own. We had moved to different localities, and 
so saw very little of each other. I had joined the 
Brethren Church and had been put to the ministry, and 
was back in the old neighborhood, preaching. One 
Sunday, as I stood up to preach, I looked down the 


aisle and whom did I see but Sam Ferris! Just im- 
agine how I felt to find him facing me, and to remem- 
ber that I had not forgiven him; and I a minister of 
the Prince of Peace ! I was filled with consternation, 
somewhat, I imagine, as Belshazzar felt when he saw 
the handwriting on the wall ; but I thought hard and 
fast, and preached as if nothing had happened, for I 
had made up my mind as to what I would do. At the 
close of the meeting I walked down the aisle, looking 
neither to the left nor to the right until I came to 
where Sam Ferris stood. I then reached out my hand 
and said, " Hello, Sam." 

He answered, " Hello, Charley. It has been a long 
time since we met," and I said, " Yes, and a good deal 
longer since we have spoken." 

" Let us let bygones be bygones," said Sam. " All 
right," I answered, and we shook hands once more. As 
I ponder over the past and look into the future, I 
would not have missed that opportunity for the world. 

I will now tell of another scrap in which I got the 
worst. One Friday evening, after school, while still 
on the school ground, I was contending with Milton 
Norris, a boy of my own age. He had been jumping 
on the back of my brother and other small boys, break- 
ing them down to the ground. I was protesting his 
action with pretty strong language. Another big boy 
was standing between us, facing me, when Milton 


picked up a ball club, which had been made out of a 
three-cornered rail, and laid it across my head with such 
force that it seemed almost a miracle I was spared to 
tell the story. I struck the ground so hard that I 
fairly bounced to my feet, with blood streaming from 
my nose like a stuck hog. I started after that boy with 
all the strength I had. But he could run like a grey- 
hound, and I could not catch him. I want to state 
here that I pride myself in the fact that I never struck 
anybody hard enough to hurt him. I never struck a 
man, and never ran from one but once, and that was 
from a negro who was larger than I was. But, believe 
me, if I could have caught that boy my record would 
not have been so clean. Oh, how glad I am now that 
he could outrun me ! The news of the fight was soon 
spread around and the next Monday morning, to my 
surprise, when I came to school I found the directors 
were on hand to settle the trouble. One of them was 
Milton's father. Let me state right here I never had 
been in a better humor in my life. I just could not 
keep mad at that boy, for he was the biggest-hearted 
boy in our whole school. 

The directors took testimony of all who had seen' 
the one-sided battle, and heard what Milton and I had 
to say. They decided that Milton should go to one end 
of the schoolhouse and I to the other and meet half- 
way, where we should shake hands. I reached out my 


hand, but Milton just stuck out his forefinger at me. 
So they made him try it over, but he persisted in stick- 
ing his finger out at me. The teacher then said to the 
directors, " What can I do ? I can't punish Charley. 
He is willing to fulfill his part, so what shall I do?" 

They all said, " Give Milton a good flogging." 

Now that teacher was a God-fearing man by the 
name of Jerome Keptner. He was prepared for the 
occasion, so he went to his desk and took out the 
hickory. He had Milton take off his coat and held 
him by the hand. How he did lecture that boy, with 
such kind words that it seemed to me it would melt a 
heart of stone. But then the thrashing that he re- 
ceived ! I never saw but one like it, and that was when 
the teacher tried to make me get my pencil. And, of 
course, I both saw and felt that one. After his pun- 
ishment Milton was willing enough to shake hands. 

A few years ago a nice-looking man in Glendale, 
Ariz., stepped up to me and said, " Are you Charley 

I said, " Yes, but who are you ?" 

" My name is Norris," he answered. 

" Who was your father ?" I asked. 

He answered, " Milton Norris." 

I then told him how I had been knocked down by 
his father with a ball club, and the rest of that story. 


But I surely was glad to see the son of one of my 

I am now through telling about my losing battles in 
carnal warfare, and later in this work I will mention 
greater battles which I have fought — not with the 
carnal weapon, but with the sword of the Spirit, which 
is the Word of God. 

In those days there were lots of wild game — geese, 
brants, ducks, swans, sandhill cranes, prairie chickens, 
coons, minks and muskrats. One day with two other 
fellows I caught ninety-five muskrats. But all this 
game proved to my detriment, as I would rather hunt 
than go to school or work. However, I could divide 
my time and then keep up with my classes in reading, 
writing, and arithmetic, which were taught to the tune 
of a hickory stick. 

I do not wish to cast any reflections on my dear par- 
ents, but they did not object to my going to dances, 
yet I went to very few. I could take my gun and go 
hunting on Sunday, yet I did very little of it. When 
only thirteen years old I was allowed to go to Clinton, 
which was twelve miles away, with a crowd which they 
knew would drink. My father was not a drinking man 
and he gave some good advice, but he used no restric- 
tions on me. I had read the book, " Ten Nights in a 
Barroom," before we left Michigan ; and it surely made 
a deep impression on my mind. I did not want to be- 


come a drunkard, and I was determined not to be one. 

Yet I did come close to being a tobacco fiend. It 
happened that, during the time of the war, my Uncle 
Stephen gave me a large chew of fine-cut tobacco. 
Now I am glad it was large, for it made me sick. 
After the war a man wanted me to try a chew of plug 
tobacco. It seemed that in those days a fellow had to 
chew and see how far he could spit in order to be a 
man. Well, the Missouri boys said that their kind of 
tobacco, " Long Green " they called it, was good, and 
finally persuaded me to try it. And believe me, it was 
good — it cured me for life. I was sure sick. I am 
glad it made me sick, for I never tried it again. I 
thought I would rather always be a boy than to use the 
dirty stuff. 

I am bitterly opposed to the use of tobacco, yet I 
claim no credit for not using it, as I tried three times 
and had to give it up. The fellow who likes it, but will 
not use it, certainly deserves lots of credit. I have 
reasoned on -this matter all my life, and still I can't 
understand why a man who claims to be a child of 
God will defile his body, which is the temple of the 
Holy Spirit, with filthy tobacco or whisky. Such a 
person, if he is what he thinks he is, and if he is guided 
by the Holy Spirit, as he claims he is, ought to be 
ashamed to shut the Spirit of the living God up in a 
tobacco house or a grog shop. 


First Acquaintance with the Brethren 

It was in 1869 or 1870 that the Brethren commenced 
to move into our midst. It was the first we had ever 
seen or heard tell of such a class of people. They 
were Eld. J. S. Mohler, John Houghendoughler, New- 
ton Perry, Una Shutz, John Reish, and some others. 
Bro. Mohler taught school one term in our district 
and had occasion to give Milton Norris an awful hard 
whipping when Milton was almost a man grown. I 
think that was the last whipping he ever received. Bro. 
Mohler preached four funerals in our. family. We 
thought that he was a wonderful man. He baptized 
my wife, solemnized our marriage, and afterwards 
came to Greenwood County, Kans., and baptized me. 
My favorite song in the old hymnals is one of his 
composing, number 683, " Meet Me There." I have 
requested to have it sung at my funeral. 

The first sermon I ever heard by the Brethren was 
at the Cornet schoolhouse. I was about fourteen or 
fifteen years old. It was by Eld. John Hershey, who 
afterwards became the father of the Old Orders in the 
West. I could never forget it — not for the good 
things he said, since they did not appeal to me then, 
but he said one thing that tickled me. There were 



three other preachers present — J. S. and S. S. Mohler 
and some one else, I have forgotten or never knew. 
But Bro. Hershey got up and in a slow, drawling tone 
began to say, " Brethren, I would much rather some 
one else would preach today, for I am not well, and if 
I should leave the pulpit and go out of doors quite sud- 
denly, don't think strange, for such is the nature of my 
disease." No boy in my day could ever forget that. 
I think he must have said many good things, but my 
boyish mind could not grasp them. 

If we could remember good things as well as the 
funny things, how much better it would be! All of 
the Brethren with whom I came in contact in my 
younger days were pretty good people and could be 
trusted. I always respected them and I could tell one 
of them as far as I could see him. The first impres- 
sion I received of them was that there was a beauty in 
knowing one's brother and sister when you met them. 
They were " known and read of all men." 

At the age of seventeen I made up my mind to lead a 
better life, and having very little knowledge of what 
the Bible taught, and being under the influence of the 
Missionary Baptist Church, the prevailing denomi- 
nation of our neighborhood, I became a member of 
that body. As I now look back to that period I must 
give the Baptists credit for helping me to make a new 
start in life, but in reality I was only partially con- 


verted, and the story of my future conduct will con- 
vince my readers of that fact. The Baptists seemed to 
have enough confidence in me, for they offered me 
a free education in the William Jewell College, of 
Liberty, Mo., if I would become a minister. Why I 
turned this opportunity down I do not know, but I 
did, and I am glad of it, for if I had accepted I proba- 
bly would have been a Baptist minister instead of what 
I am now. I am very glad that I found something 


The Prodigal 

In our home the ties between father and myself were 
not what they should have been, but I am now willing 
to take all the blame on myself. After the third effort 
to run away from home I finally succeeded, at eighteen 
years of age, but oh, what a mistake ! I stopped around 
Louisiana, Mo., and Pleasant Hill, 111. I was up and 
down the river from Hannibal to St. Louis. I worked 
at whatever I found to do ; chopped wood, railroaded, 
and was not afraid of any kind of labor, but very often 
I could not get work at any price, so I frequently was 
without funds, and went hungry. I was too plucky to 
ask for food of anyone, if I did not have the price. I 
believe I would have starved first. 

There was a very tough element up and down the 
Mississippi River in those days. Of course, there must 
have been many good people also. I have since been 
in the lumber camps of the North and the mining 
camps of the West, but I have never seen anything 
that could compare with the toughness of the river 
towns excepting Mexicalli, Mexico, where the off- 
scourings of the United States gather like buzzards 
after a carcass. There, in broad daylight, I have seen 
things we dare not put into print. In later years there 



was burned one building that housed one hundred 
sporting women, and ninety-nine were accounted for 
after the fire. 

I want to give at least one experience I had in 
Louisiana, Mo. You will remember I had decided 
when quite young that I never would be a drunkard, 
but very often I did get into bad company, and I have 
often escaped, by the " skin of my teeth," from falling. 
Certainly a mother's prayer must have followed me 
the whole world through. On this one certain occa- 
sion I was with a bunch of toughs. I was in a saloon 
playing cards for the drinks, but when we marched up 
to the bar and they asked me what I would have I 
said " a glass of water." But once they were prepared 
for me, with one on each side of me and one at my 
back. When I said " water " the one at my back grabbed 
me by the shoulders, put his knee in the small of my 
back and threw me to the floor. Two of them held me 
down, while the third took a glass of whisky and tried 
to force it down my throat. He had nearly succeeded 
when one of the bunch by the name of Ike Lanbert, 
who had not lost all of his manhood, stepped up and 
said, with the voice of command, " Boys, you have gone 
far enough. If Charley don't want to drink that is his 
business. Let him up." And they did. 

I could relate many more experiences in regard 
to temptations, trials, and hardships which I encoun- 


tered. I have always regretted the trouble and grief 
which I caused my parents, and yet I received lessons 
from which I have tried to profit all my life in order 
fully to sympathize with the other fellows. In all full- 
ness you must first travel over the same road yourself. 

In my life I have never let anyone — red, yellow, 
black or white — pass my door hungry, if I knew it. I 
have many times stood on the brink of the pit and come 
near falling in, to the destruction of my body, soul, and 
spirit. I have seen so many of my comrades fall, and 
some of them seemed to have had a better chance in 
life than I had. I can't understand why they slipped 
over the precipice and I, who came so near, did not. 
I can attribute it only to the power of Almighty God, 
who, it seems, set the bounds and whispered to me, 
" Don't go any farther, Charley ; be a man." 

No one could have been guided over the rough places 
I encountered and doubt the existence of a higher 
power, who has done, does do, and will still do all 
things well. Now the lesson I have learned is this: 
I can now look with more mercy on the ones who have 
slipped and fallen, or, as Paul says, can " condescend 
to men of low estate." After battling against my own 
conscience and better judgment for one year and three 
months I resolved to go home — the prodigal. I was so 
happy when I made this resolve, but still happier when 
I got started. Oh ! the joy of getting home ! The 


words in English have not been coined to express the 
joy of that meeting. My father met me at the door 
with outstretched hand and welcomed me back to the 
fold, and best of all, my dear old mother came fairly 
jumping across the house, clapping her hands, exclaim- 
ing, " O my boy, my boy, my boy !" 

I have often thonght that my home-coming was like 
the sinner's process in his conversion: when he gets 
the consent of his stubborn will he feels a relief ; when 
he puts his will into action he feels better; but when 
he gets to the place where God has promised to meet 
him, and fulfills his part of the conditions, namely, to 
" repent and be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ 
for the remission of sins, and receives the gift of the 
Holy Spirit" (Acts 2-38), then his joy is full. 


My Father's Death 

Well, it was good to be home once more and to feel 
the joy and blessings of being among friends, real 
friends, the kind I knew truly loved and cared for me. 
I could see a few changes since my absence. I no- 
ticed the greatest in my father. I saw that he was fail- 
ing. I probably realized this in father more than the 
rest did, on account of my absence. Now my father 
was not an old man, only fifty-two years of age, but 
the hardships of the hellish war had left their imprints. 

I had been home but a few months when it was de- 
cided that my mother should make a business trip to 
Michigan, and intended, while there, to visit friends 
and relatives. She insisted that I go along with her, 
as she had had little experience in traveling. She con- 
cluded that she could come home alone in case I 
wanted to stay. We left home Feb. 20, 1877, for 
Michigan, with ticket, which was to land us in Kalama- 
zoo, but we got off at Dowagiac to visit Uncle Amos 
Cogill. From there we went to Schoolcraft to visit my 
Uncle Obadiah Edmunds. Leaving mother to go home 
alone, I went on to Morley, about one hundred miles 
further north, to visit my father's brothers, Uncles 
Noah and Albert Gillett, and Cousin George. I left 



Schoolcraft March 6, the day I was twenty years old. 
I found snow on the ground in Morley and plenty of 
cold weather. 

While at Uncle Albert's I had an unusual experi- 
ence. I remember it very distinctly, the date being 
March 31. I went to bed early that night, as I was 
lonesome and homesick. I was thinking of home, 
sweet home and of a black-eyed girl whom I had the 
fond hopes of sometime in the future claiming legally 
for my own. Now that was the mood I was in when 
I fell asleep. I had a vision. I saw my father get up 
from the table and fall to the floor, apparently dead. 
I saw two men pick him up and lay him on the bed 
for dead. I saw him open his eyes, gasp for breath, 
rise in bed to a sitting position and then fall back dead. 

Later, in comparing my dream with the circum- 
stances, related by my mother, it was exactly as I had 
seen it, and as near as we could understand, it must 
have been the precise time of my dream. How real 
that dream was ! It was so real that when I awoke I 
took it for a fact that my father had passed away. 
Two or three days later I got a letter from that black- 
eyed girl, informing me of the death of my father. The 
next mail brought news from my mother, telling me 
all about it, and saying that Eld. J. S. Mohler had 
preached the funeral sermon. 

When I answered my mother's letter I told her that 



I had already received the news. She sometimes had 
to wonder how I could get news ahead of her letters. 
Surely, I had heard two ways, before her letter: one 
that supernatural message and the other the letter from 
my sweetheart. Can any one explain that first message ? 
I have given it much thought and study. My conclu- 
sion is this: that through some law, not yet fully un- 
derstood by man, this message was transmitted to me 
and my mind was in a receptive mood. This is my ex- 
planation. There is much to be learned about such 
matters. I think of many, many things which have 
been found out since that time — the phonograph, tele- 
phone, television (thousands of miles away from the 
objects, pictures are taken), and radio messages which 
are sent to and from all parts of the world. 

I want to stop here and record some of my thoughts 
along this line. In receiving messages over the radio 
the receiving instruments must be in the same key as 
the sender, or the message will be lost. We have been 
sending messages to and receiving messages from the 
great God of the universe ever since the creation. A 
great many messages never reached heaven, for the 
same reason as with radio: the senders were not in 
union or in key with the Great Receiver. I believe 
without a doubt that if the whole church were in per- 
fect union and in harmony with the Word of God and 
in the right key of the Heavenly Father, wonderful 


things would happen. Such thoughts may give some 
one else something on which to meditate. One thing is 
sure, there are only two supernatural stations, Heaven 
and Hell, and we cannot tune in to both at the same 
time. Let us stop and ponder and be sure to key in 
at the right station. 


Home Again 

I must not linger too long here. It was on July 2, 
while I was working on a farm near Vicksburg, Kala- 
mazoo County, which joined the farm of my Uncle 
William Worthington, that I received a telegram stat- 
ing, " Come home ; sister drowned." 

I took it over to Uncle William and he gave me some 
money and had his son Tommy drive his eight-hun- 
dred-dollar trotting horse to take me to the station at 
Kalamazoo. The train left about midnight. My! 
How we did fly to get there on time. It was indeed a 
lonesome, sorrowful trip. I arrived in Clinton, Mo., at 
8 A. M., July 4. Word had been left at the depot that 
a horse was at Black's livery barn for me to ride home 
on. I got the message there that Sister Alice had been 
drowned in Honey Creek and had not been found. I 
went as quickly as possible to the banks of the creek, 
where crowds of men were searching, but she had not 
been recovered. I then went home to mother — to poor, 
heartbroken mother. 

When I returned to the creek Alice had been found. 
She was buried that night at 1 o'clock by the side of 
my father in the Norris cemetery. J. S. Mohler after- 
ward preached her funeral sermon. My Sister Alice 



was twenty-two years of age in June and unmarried. 

My half-sister, Eleanor, was married before this 
time, so all the ones left at home now were mother, 
Willie, and I, a lonely mourning family. 

One day mother asked, "Do you and Rachel "(the 
black-eyed girl) " expect to be married?" I said " Yes, 
sometime, but I don't know when, for I have nothing 
to take care of a wife with." 

" Well," mother said, " you have." She then showed 
me horses, cows, and a forty-acre farm. " They are 
yours," she said. " I am so lonely ; you bring Rachel 
home and stay here, and I will furnish everything for 
one year." Oh, what a mother! Of course, I wasted 
no time in putting the proposition up to Rachel and 
then to her folks. After asking her father three times, 
and insisting, I finally gained the consent of all parties 

We were married July 25, 1877. What a desperate 
chance she ran — for she and her parents were members 
of the Brethren Church and I a Baptist, and not a very 
good one at that. We have never regretted it, but 
have been very glad that in later years our five daugh- 
ters did not take such a risk. 

My mother gave me the following advice: 
"Charley, you know Rachel is a ' Dunker,' dresses 
plain, wears a bonnet and a little cap. Now you knew 
this beforehand ; don't ever abuse her afterwards for 


it." I promised her I wouldn't. Later, I almost broke 
that promise. This one time it happened like this : We 
were getting ready to go to my church. The Sunday 
before we had gone to her church. Of course, when 
we went to her church I expected her to wear her 
little cap, but when she started to put it on to wear 
to my church it hurt my pride a little. It was here I 
almost broke my promise. I said, " Are you going to 
wear that thing to church?" 

She said, " Yes, sir, I am, and if you don't like it you 
can lump it." I then thought of my promise, and said, 
" I don't care, but have you any scripture which proves 
that you should wear anything like that?" She then 
and there turned to First Corinthians chapter 11, and 
read with proper emphasis what Paul had to say. I 
said, " Wife, I will never say anything against the cap 
again." I have kept my word for fifty years, and thank 
the Lord she still wears the cap. Now it might do for 
a sister who had the pluck and courage and will power 
that she had to take some chances in marrying, but I 
have seen some that took the risk and were not strong 
enough to hold out and made themselves much trouble. 

It was July 25, 1877, that I promised to take Rachel 
E. Kuns, daughter of George D. and Margaret Kuns, 
to be my lawful, wedded wife. This I promised be- 
fore God and witnesses, Eld. J. S. Mohler officiating. 
I believe that the two most sacred promises that can be 


made are those we make when we are married and 
when we join the church. Both are for life, before 
God and witnesses, and yet how lightly they are re- 
garded by so many! 

We agreed to debate the differences between our 
respective churches, and that we would take the Bible 
for authority. We also decided to pray over the mat- 
ter ; that the one who substantiated his position by the 
Word would win, and the loser must come over to the 
other's church. 

We have often arisen after we had gone to bed, 
lighted the lamp and gone to the Bible to see who was 
right. Sometimes a meal became cold while we were 
looking up Scripture passages. Of course, my wife 
eventually won, but it was not for some time. 

May 9, 1878, our first boy was born and we called 
him George Franklin. 

Mother, having given us the forty acres with the 
house, soon afterward built a neat cottage on fifty 
acres she had given to Bro. Willard. Mother and Wil- 
lard lived in the new home only six weeks, when she 
took pneumonia and died, Dec. 2, 1878. 


A Full Surrender 

In the fall of 1879 we moved to Greenwood County, 
Kans. We settled on the raw prairie, six miles east 
and two miles south of Eureka. 

Nov. 11, 1879, another boy was born and we called 
him Charles Leander. 

At the suggestion of my wife we had subscribed for 
The Primitive Christian, the Brethren Church paper, 
published at Huntingdon, Pa., by James Quinter. Both 
of us were working very hard in those days, but what 
time I had to rest I wanted to read. When I went to 
pick up the county paper from where I had left it, it 
was never there, but The Primitive Christian would be 
in its place. Of course, I would suppose it was an 
accident and would naturally take it up and read some- 
thing in it. 

About this time the Stein and Ray debate was being 
published in the paper and I became very much inter- 
ested in it ; also in my soul's salvation, and I nearly was 
convinced that the Brethren were right except on bap- 

(Let me state here that my wife confessed to me 
years after that she had changed papers with me and 
placed her paper where mine should have been, I sup- 



pose to get me to read it. Whether she did right or 
wrong I don't know, but I am now very glad that she 
did it.) 

Now, coming back to the debate, in Stein's affirma- 
tive he analyzed the commission of Matthew 28 : 19, 
parsed it, and supplied the ellipses agreeable to the laws 
of syntax, and when Ray answered it he said that Stein 
had added nine words to the commission to make it 
teach the Tunker doctrine. Then in Stein's next speech 
he offered to leave it to a learned class of men, neither 
Tunkers nor Baptists (say three or five), and let them 
say whether he had added or whether, according to the 
laws of syntax, the words should be supplied. I 
thought that was fair, and I realized that such scholars 
knew. Ray replied by saying that he would not leave it 
to men or to angels. That surely put me to thinking, 
and my thought ran thus : " Mr. Ray, you must think 
you are wrong and Stein right, and if you are wrong I 
am wrong, too." 

Well, in another part of the debate, Stein quoted 
from historians to prove that trine immersion was very 
ancient. Ray replied by saying there was no such his- 
tory, and that the quotations were Stein's historical 

Stein proposed again to leave it to three or five 
men, neither Baptists nor Tunkers, who had access to 
church histories, to say whether such history existed or 


not, and Ray again refused to do it. My next move 
was to get the history of the leading denominations of 
the world, by Belcher. I read it and studied it in con- 
nection with the Bible, prayerfully and carefully. My 
object was to find which church was the nearest right, 
and when I came to the Baptists, Mr. Belcher, being 
a Baptist himself, gave them a larger write-up than he 
did most of the churches. In addition to the scripture 
to prove baptism he referred to certain historians who 
gave their evidence to triune immersion. He had 
quoted from the same church fathers that Stein cited, 
and quoted the words verbatim. 

It was right here that the scales fell from my eyes 
and I realized that I had been reading the commission 
through my Baptist spectacles. I then went to the 
Bible and read the commission as I had never read it 
before, and I saw, as plain as daylight, that three ac- 
tions were required. No one knows, only he who has 
gone over the same road, how hard it is to give up a 
faith which has been instilled in one's mind when he 
was a youth, even if he is convinced that it is wrong. 

One time I had an Old School Baptist friend whom 
I was trying to convince that the Brethren doctrine 
was founded on the Word of God. He said he knew 
that, according to the Bible, the Brethren were nearer 
right than the Baptists. " But," he said, " I can't get 
the consent of my mind to leave the Old Baptists." He 


actually wept about it, and as far as I know he lived 
and died a Baptist. A person who has never belonged 
to any church is much easier to convince of the doctrine 
of the Gospel, as we believe it, than one who has en- 
dorsed the principles of another church. 

Well, when I had made up my mind to unite with 
the Church of the Brethren I felt good, but at that 
time we did not know of any members in Kansas (of 
course there were some), so I wrote an article to The 
Primitive Christian, saying that if Eld. J. S. Mohler 
would come out he could make a Tunker of me. I 
then felt better. I soon received a letter from Bro. 
Mohler, stating that he had no desire to make a Tunker 
out of me, but if he could be instrumental in the hands 
of the Lord in helping me to become a Christian he 
would come. I at once wrote him to come and I then 
felt still better. Eld. Mohler lived at Deepwater, Mo., 
at that time. 

By the time he arrived I had found a few other 
members — an old crippled brother by the name of Sam- 
uel Hunt, Jacob Pippenger and wife, and Hannah 
Dugard. It was in October, 1880, that Bro. Mohler 
held his first meetings and baptized me, and then and 
there I felt that my joy was full, and I have never for- 
gotten his instructions and the promises I made. The 
following winter Eld. Sidney Hodgedon and his son, 
Merl, and a young brother by the name of Jake Beck- 


ner, came into our midst and held some meetings. It 
was here that Bro. Dugard was baptized and we were 
organized into a church. 

Bro. Dugard was elected to the ministry and Bro. 
Pippenger and myself were chosen to the office of 
deacon. Bro. Dugard was one of the best of men, but 
he lacked as a preacher and the Lord's work seemed 
to lag for about two years. At this time Eld. G. W. 
Studebaker, of Fredonia, Kans., commenced to come 
twice a month, preaching three times each trip. He 
was a powerful preacher, a wonderful scripturist, and 
made quite an impression on the people. At the very 
start some others were baptized. Bro. Dugard had 
gone to his long home. 


Elected to the Ministry 

In 1885, in our part of Kansas, times were rather 
hard. I had made up my mind to leave the country 
and had traded for a good farm in Holt County, Mo. 
I had made all preparations to move, when the church, 
on Saturday before the third Sunday in September, 
1885, at a love feast in a shed on Bro. John Messner's 
farm, held an election for a minister. Bro. Studebaker. 
our elder, Eld. Washington Wyland, and C. M. Year- 
out were present. At our social meeting the next 
morning it was announced that I had been chosen. Bro. 
Wyland officiated in the installation services. Among 
the promises I made were these : to wear my beard and 
comb my hair straight back, or part it in the middle. 
I also promised to wear a frock coat with standing col- 
lar. I renewed my promise when I was advanced and 
later when I was ordained. I have never had any de- 
sire to break my word, and besides it appears to me, 
that if I did so, it would put me in the category of sin 
as Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5:3, 4). 

Now, after I had been put to the ministry all the 
members insisted that I should stay with them. If I 
stayed, it seemed to me, it would be at a financial loss, 
but to go might mean a spiritual loss. Of the two 



losses I decided to take the financial loss, and stayed. 

When the word reached Missouri that I had been 
put to the ministry, Milton Norris, the one who once 
knocked me down with the ball club, said to my wife's 
sister, Flory, " Is it a fact that Charley has been put 
to the ministry ?" and she said " Yes." He then re- 
plied, " They must have been mighty hard up for 
preachers in Kansas." 

Another made the remark that I must be going crazy. 
Still another, a stranger, said, before he had heard me 
preach, "If that fellow can preach he fools his looks." 
Well, we will let some one else judge whether I was 
crazy or " fooled my looks." 

As to the scarcity of preachers in southern Kansas, 
no one can dispute this fact. I see that in the history 
of the Brethren Church in Kansas, under the head of 
Greenwood County some one has given me quite a 
write-up. One thing he said was that I held seventy- 
five meetings in the first year of my ministry, which 
is correct. As near as I can remember I received fi- 
nancial support for that year's work to the total amount 
of fifty cents and one big red handkerchief. My 
traveling was on horseback when my wife was not 
along, and when she went we had a lumber wagon. 
There was one thing I was blessed with — one of the 
best saddle horses of which the world could boast. He 
could trot, fox trot, pace, single foot, double foot rack, 


run and walk. I could change his gait whenever I 
wanted to, which made it easy for me. His name was 

Excuse me for a little digresson here, as I wish to 
say something I should have told before I was put to 
the ministry. On February 14, 1882, my wife pre- 
sented me with the first valentine I ever received. It 
was a real living specimen in the form of a little girl, 
and we named her Margaret, after her Grandmother 
Kuns. Her name is Margaret G. Statler, of Glendale, 
Ariz. She is the mother of five living children. 

In the fall of 1883 I was breaking some young mules 
both to ride and to work. I had those of the masculine 
gender named after three of the noted infidels, namely, 
Voltaire, Tom Paine and Bob Ingersoll. Now Bob 
Ingersoll was the prettiest mule I ever saw and about 
as mean as he was good looking. Oct. 5, 1883, I went 
to jump on Bob's back while trying to lead another 
mule. Bob jumped. The other mule pulled back, and 
when I got out of the tangle one of my fingers was 
broken and split so it would never knit. Even so, I 
rode that mule. Well, a few hours later my wife pre- 
sented me with ten more fingers, attached to a baby 
boy. We named that boy Leroy. Six weeks later I 
rode that mule all alone twelve miles to have my finger 

Reverting to my former subject, it seemed that pet 


horse loved me with almost human intelligence. I did 
not have to tie him up, but just turned him loose at 
church or anywhere I was and he would wait for me. 
I swam deep streams with him to reach appointments. 
Please excuse me for telling so much about Dock, but 
I loved that horse and we were friends. Well, I traded 
our farm in Holt County, Mo., for raw prairie in 
Kansas and took a big loss. 

Dec. 26, 1885, another boy came into our home, and 
we named him Ola Edison. His mother had stood at 
my side when I was installed into the ministry about 
three months before he was born. When I was or- 
dained that boy stood by my side and was installed into 
the ministry. 

I was not getting along very well. I did nearly as 
much work as I had been doing, but my mind was 
chiefly on something else. My education was limited, 
but in those days the church did not make a college 
education a qualification for the ministry. We had no 
Reverends or D. D.'s. The word reverend was ap- 
plied to God alone (Psa. 111:9). Now don't think I 
am opposed to an education, for I am not. The more 
education, rightly applied, the better, but I do draw 
the. line on making it a qualification for a preacher, 
when the Bible says nothing about it. Paul did tell 
Timothy, a young preacher, to " Study to show thyself 
approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to 


be ashamed, rightly dividing the Word of Truth." 
That is what I tried to do. The only books I had that 
helped me were the Bible and a pocket dictionary. 1 
have since thought they were enough, and that if our 
young preachers would study the Bible more and 
other books less we would have more Gospel sermons 
and less of some one else's opinion. Not that I am 
opposed to learning other men's views, but we should 
be sure they are right before we take them for facts. 
What we need is to develop our own minds (James 
1-5), thus solving a wonderful problem in understand- 
ing the Scriptures. 

During the first two years of our ministry, our meet- 
ings were held in schoolhouses. During that time our 
elder sent me up to the Flint Hills to hold meetings 
where there was one colored brother by the name of 
Mark Wright. Probably one-half of the folks of the 
neighborhood were colored. I preached at the Lone 
Elm schoolhouse, commonly called Blow Hard. I went 
back often. I also preached at the Rising Star and also 
at Spring Creek. We were well received at all the places. 
At Spring Creek I met J. J. Wassam. We had met on a 
cattle ranch one Sunday before either of us was a 
member of the church. We bought cattle on the Lord's 
Day ! In our last meeting both were ministers. Thank 
the Lord for the change! The last time I was at 
Spring Creek the ladies of the community had made 


my wife a fine quilt, with the names of the givers 
quilted in each block, though they had never seen her. 
On my way home it was discovered that there was an 
envelope with $3 or $4 attached to the quilt for me. 
It sure was a surprise. Also the people at Blow Hard 
gave me a purse, but I think that during the second 
year of my ministry I received less than $10. I want 
to state right here, that in the forty-two years of my 
ministry I have never taken up a collection for my own 
benefit nor asked any one for a cent. My family has 
often gone without a good many of the comforts of 
life, but my good wife never complained. 


Lessons Learned 

I learned some good lessons from different sources. 
I had an old friend who was an Old School Baptist 
preacher. He was a wonderful man, a good talker, 
could quote much scripture and chew lots of tobacco. 
When I commenced to preach, he told me it took three 
things to make a good preacher. I asked what they 
were, and he said, " The first thing is to know how 
to begin a subject, the second, to know what to say, 
and the third, to know when to quit." 

One time we had a brother who had not been in the 
church long. He and I were at a Methodist meeting 
and the preacher preached on free open communion. 
The brother, after the meeting was dismissed, said to 
me, loud enough for all to hear, " Charley, he is right. 
We Tunkers are too selfish." My, how bad I felt, but 
I said nothing. Later at the same place it was the turn 
for the Old School Baptist preacher to preach, and the 
brother and I were present. I took the preacher be- 
hind the schoolhouse and told him I had a subject for 
him to preach on. He asked what it was and I said, 
" Close Communion." He said, " It just suits me." 
I never heard a better sermon on the subject in my 
life. He said, " It is not close communion ; it is close 



baptism for baptized believers, and nothing but im- 
mersion is baptism," and backed his assertion by the 
Word. Later he said, " You may think the way I talk 
that nobody is right but the Old School Baptists, and 
it's just what I think. But if there were no Old School 
Baptists in the world my next choice would be the 
Tunkers." Well, he just trimmed the bush. That 
brother flopped over to the right side of the question 
and lived and died a full-fledged Tunker. This is the 
main lesson I learned : " Let the other fellow fight 
your battles if he wants to." 

I was holding meeting at the Shawnee schoolhouse 
at the request of an old Presbyterian friend. One 
time there was present a preacher who claimed to be a 
free evangelist. I talked on the subject of baptism and 
it did not suit him. As soon as I dismissed he came to 
me and commenced to abuse me in pretty rough 
language. I was just letting him run down, but before 
I got to say anything a man rushed up to him with his 
sleeves rolled up and stuck his fist in his face, saying, 
" Shut your mouth ! Charley has come here and 
preached the truth, and if you don't like it, just keep 
your mouth shut." And he did. 

Once at the same place there was present a Freewill 
Baptist preacher, to whom I gave the liberty to pray, 
but he took more liberty, and both prayed and talked 
loud. In fact, he just hollered. After the meeting that 


old Presbyterian took me behind the schoolhouse and 
said, " Charley, we invited you to preach for us. We 
wanted to hear you, and don't you ever let that old man 
take part in your meetings again. What good did it do 
for him to get up and holler like he did ? It is not the 
thunder that kills folks, it is the lightning," and I had 
learned another lesson. 

A little more than one year after I was put to the 
ministry, I was advanced to the second degree. But 
the church had always allowed me the liberty to make 
my own appointments, and in fact gave me more privi- 
leges than was customary in those days. About this 
time James R. Gish started a church at Stuttgart, Ark. 
As we were not getting along very well financially, we 
concluded to move there and see if we could do a little 
better. We made the start, but for some cause or an- 
other we never got any farther than Henry County, 
Mo., where we once lived, and where my wife's folks 
still resided. We traded for a store and I was ap- 
pointed postmaster of the little town of Hartwell. It 
was a small store, small town, small trade and a small 
business, and it was impossible to live off the profit. 

Jan. 18, 1888, another little girl came to live with 
us and we named her Mary Ann, after my mother. 

While living in Hartwell we held meetings in Hart- 
well, Deepwater, and other places; also in Cedar 


In the Ozarks 

In August, 1888, we moved to Pulaski County, Mo., 
where I had traded for a tract of timber land, but later 
found out I had no title to the property, though there 
was an abstract showing perfect title. It seems as 
though certain parties had forged or made false state- 
ments at the land office at Ironton, Mo. Records 
showed that that land and many other tracts had been 
entered by certain individuals and transferred to some 
one else, and finally was sold by the state for taxes and 
then sold and resold and eventually got back into the 
hand of the party who had concocted the scheme. He 
was an abstracter of titles. Of course there were some 
fictitious names used. They had selected land that 
was lying along the boundary line of other counties and 
comprised in all thousands of acres which were still 
government land. Then they put the tracts into the 
hands of agents in various parts of the country to sell 
or trade. How they ever kept out of the clutches of 
the law I never could understand. When I had doubts 
of my title, I wrote to the general land office and they 
replied that my land never had been entered and was 
still government land. I went to the man and showed 
my letter, and of course, he claimed it was a mistake, 



and said he would rectify it by buying the land from 
the government. I told him to just give me the price 
that it would cost him and I would settle with him and 
he agreed to, but he said he could pay me only in in- 
stallments. He was not a responsible man, but I took 
the risk. We traded a team for the relinquishment of 
a homestead close to the Big Piney River. The im- 
provements consisted of a small one-room log house 
without any windows, a small log smoke-house, a log 
barn and six or seven acres cleared. Then our labors 
were begun — six children to feed, clothe and school. 
Well, more of our labors later. 

We had settled in the bounds of the Waynesville 
Church of the Brethren, a small body of members con- 
sisting mostly of the families of Solomon Stump, Dan- 
iel Stump, Eleazer Barrow, and John Delaplain. Solo- 
mon Stump was the elder and the only preacher. He 
was a wonderful man. He had settled in the Ozarks 
right after the Civil War. He worked hard, preached 
much, traveling mostly on foot, and was the best fire- 
side preacher I ever knew. He was a wonderful ex- 
pounder of prophecy. Our college professors of today 
could take lessons from him to their profit. Sometimes 
he would start off four or five miles on foot to preach 
and, being in a hurry and not having time to study 
his subject, he would tear out the leaf of his Bible that 
he wanted and read it on his way. Now Bro. Stump, 


like many of our old frontiersmen, did not get his name 
in the papers very much. He received very little re- 
ward in his life, but like many of our old brethren he is 
now over on the other side, waiting for his reward in 
the resurrection of the just. 

There were plenty of places to preach, mostly in 
schoolhouses. We held meetings in Texas County, La- 
clede County, and Phelps County and in various places 
in Pulaski County. Many times we crossed swollen 
streams to reach our appointments, going horseback 
most of the time or in wagons, but sometimes I went 
on foot, after splitting rails and clearing land all the 
week. Sometimes on Sunday I would walk six miles 
and back, preach two times, and be on the job Monday 
morning on the farm. Times were very hard ; wages 
were from fifty cents to seventy-five cents a day. Hired 
girls got seventy-five cents to one dollar per week. 

One fall, when crops were short, my brother and I 
took a contract for banking a lot of sycamore saw logs 
on the Gasconade River, and were depending on getting 
our pay for them as soon as the job was done. But 
to our surprise the owner of the logs told us that he 
would notify the sawmill man at Arlington, and when 
he came down and sealed the logs he would pay us. He 
never came. Later, Bro. Bird Stump contracted to raft 
them down the river to the mill, but the river got so 
high that the raft broke up and he was saved from 


drowning almost miraculously. I suppose the river 
must have been fifteen or twenty feet deep. Well, we 
have not secured pay for those logs yet. 

We were depending on the money for the winter 
clothing, and it was already frosting every night. One 
evening, after the children were in bed and asleep, my 
wife said, " What in the world will we do ? The chil- 
dren have no shoes, no good clothes, and no goods to 
patch their old clothes with." I said, " Don't borrow 
trouble." She said she did not. The trouble was al- 
ready here. I said, " No, the children are all asleep, 
and no trouble until tomorrow." Well, for once, and 
the only time, my dear wife lost her pep and wept. The 
next morning I saddled Dock and went to Waynes- 

The first man I met was the one who had swindled 
me in the land deal, and he handed me $50 that I had 
never expected to get. I jumped on my horse, hurried 
home, threw the money into my wife's lap and quoted 
from the Psalmist David, " I have been young, and 
now I am old ; yet have I not seen the righteous for- 
saken, nor his seed begging bread." 

The next day we went to town and that $50 got 
everything we needed. That might seem strange to our 
readers, but things were cheap then ; good work shoes 
costing $1, calico 5c per yard, muslin 8 to 10c per 
yard, jeans for suits 25c to 50c per yard, woolen yarns 


75c per pound. Remember, wife made all the clothes, 
knit all the stockings and mittens and made caps for 
the boys for winter and straw hats for summer. 

One time I went to a District Meeting at Gravel- 
point, Texas County. I had about an acre of very 
heavy hazelnut brush that I wanted cleared. When I 
was gone the boys started clearing. Wife took her 
knitting and sat down where she could see them, keep 
them company and encourage them to work. She 
knitted while they worked and, believe me, when I got 
home we had one more acre added to our farm land. 
Now, if there is a minister in the Brotherhood that 
has a wife who can beat that, I want to shake hands 
with him. 

It was in the winter and spring of 1890, when the 
epidemic of la grippe was all over the country, that 
our six children took the grippe, whooping cough and 
pneumonia at the same time. Oh, how we watched 
over them night and day, not knowing which one 
would be taken first. The doctor notified us that he 
thought at least three would not pull through. All re- 
covered but our little Mary Ann. 

" What", in a Name " 

My little girl with curly hair, 
With eyes of jet and face so fair, 

Came to us soon in eighty-eight 
Far back in old Missouri State. 


A blossom fair from Eden dropped 
Into our very presence, stopped ; 

How quick inclined a name must find, 
My mother dear came to my mind. 

Her body rests beneath the sod, 
Her spirit walks, communes with God. 

And thus you can well understand 
The why we called her Mary Ann. 

The baby grew, waxed sweet and mild — 
Our darling, darling, darling child ! 

The others claim our love the same, 
But something sacred is that name. 

But he who doeth all things well 
Took her to heaven with him to dwell, 

While I, through tears must spend the years, 
He cares himself, for the angel dears. 

Twas March of ninety — bitter gloom, 

We laid her in the little tomb, 
Short was her stay, but she went away 

To a better land — to a better day I 

Two given forms to me are dear, 
They've shed with me compassion's tear; 

Their names I love above all others— 
The one, my wife's— the one my mother's. 

May 29, 1890, another little girl claimed our pro- 
tection. We gladly welcomed her and named her Flory 


May. Her name now is Flory May Statler. She is 
the mother of two children and lives in Glendale, 

In the fall of 1891 fire broke out and burned almost 
all of our fencing. I believe that hurt me worse than 
any other material loss I ever had. I had made rails 
all day, rolled logs, and burnt brush till 9 or 10 o'clock 
at night. I had carried some of those rails on my 
back, and to see them melted down like wax in that 
fire! It actually made me shed tears. My corn was 
ready to husk and all outside, with nothing to protect 
it. But the good neighbors turned out and put it all 
in the crib the next day. Then rail splitting com- 
menced anew. One day in making a glut (a wooden 
wedge) my ax slipped and cut the cord of my leg off 
above my knee, and then I had to lay off for some time. 
But the good Brethren came over and made rails for 
me. In those times in the Ozarks we had a small mem- 
bership and they had little means, but thank the Lord 
they all had big hearts ! 

One time I was expected to be at a love feast in 
Laclede County, and the day before I was to start I 
found the cattle had broken into my field of corn. I 
said to wife, " I will have to give up going to that love 
feast." She said no, that she would help me to fix 
the fence. I declared it would be impossible, as there 
would have to be bull riders cut and put on all around 


the field. She still said we would get it done, so I took 
my ax and she followed me. We had only fairly 
started when she clapped her hands and said, " Charley, 
you are going to go." I looked up and saw something 
I had not thought of nor expected — three brethren 
with axes on their shoulders, Brethren Bird Stump, 
John Delaplain, and Burrow. They had come six miles 
to fix my fence. They said they thought my fence 
was in no condition for me to leave to go to the love 
feast. Well, I went to that feast, about thirty-five 
miles, in a wagon. 

June 4, 1892, another black-eyed baby claimed a 
home with us and we named him William Floyd. He 
now has a wife and three girls, the youngest one at 
this writing being only three days old, and our thirty- 
first living grandchild. I am now in his home in San 
Bernardino, Calif., writing and recording these facts. 

One time Bro. Stump and I attended a love feast in 
Laclede County, Mo. Eld. Jordan lived there and had 
charge of the church. He was a very zealous man, 
much beloved, a friend to everybody and a good 
preacher. At the love feast were an old-fashioned 
Methodist and his wife, who invited us home with 
them, and we accepted the invitation. When we got 
there the man said that he had a " crow to pick " with 
Bro. Jordan. We asked him what it was about. He 
replied by saying, " You know Bro. Jordan used to be 


a Methodist." Bro. Stump said " Yes, we sometimes 
call him our Methodist Tunker." The Methodist said, 
" One time Bro. Jordan was preaching and he stated 
during his discourse that his mother was a Methodist, 
lived a Methodist, died a Methodist and went to heaven. 
Now, what I want to know, is this : if his mother could 
get to heaven from the Methodist church, why did he 
have to leave the Methodists and join the Dunkard 
church to get there ?" Bro. Stump replied, " Don't 
bother Bro. Jordan about that. I can reconcile it for 
you," and our host said, " I would like to know how." 
Bro. Stump suggested, " Let us reason together." The 
other agreed. " Then," Bro. Stump added, " Bro. Jor- 
dan is now an old man. Probably his mother has been 
dead fifty years. Fifty years ago the Methodists had a 
better promise than they have now. Fifty years ago 
they did not allow their members to belong to secret 
orders or go to law. Their sisters wore a cap for a 
special covering in time of worship, the same as our 
sisters do now, and they were then a plain body of 
people. His mother might have died in the Methodist 
church fifty years ago and gone to heaven, and Bro. 
Jordan might have stayed in the Methodist church 
(considering the changes they have made in the last 
fifty years), and died and gone to hell." Believe me, 
that man was no fool. He saw the point and said, " I 
do believe you are right." 


One time I was holding a series of meetings in Sleep- 
er, a little village in Laclede County, Mo., in Bro. Jor- 
dan's congregation. The meeting was in a private 
house, the home of Bro. Weed. It was an old-fash- 
ioned log structure, having one large room with a fire- 
place on one side of the house. A small table was 
placed close to the fireplace to put my books on and 
to stand behind. There was only one outside door to 
the room. About fifty people were there every night. 
Attending the meeting was a certain man about twenty 
years old, with four or five of his associates. About 
the time I would begin to get the crowd interested this 
young man would go out and slam the door. Then 
one of the other boys would follow and slam the door, 
and then another, and they would keep it up until all 
would be out of doors, when they would commence to 
file in, one at a time, until they were all in the house. 
They would file out and in and keep it up until meet- 
ing was dismissed. Well, I got tired of preaching to 
a traveling congregation. I suggested to the brethren, 
after the boys had taken their seats, that it was pretty 
warm so close to the fireplace and I would like to move 
the table back to the door. I did so, placing the table so 
there was room between it and the door for me to stand. 
When I was about half done with the sermon, and 
had stepped forward toward the congregation and away 
from the door, that young man thought his chance had 


come to get out, and he made for the door. I saw him 
coming and made a gesture and stepped back until my 
heel was about one foot from the door. He opened 
the door, but there was not room to get through. He 
slammed the door against my foot several times, and I 
said, " Do you want out?" He said, " Yes." So I let 
him out, said " Good-bye," slammed the door shut and 
locked it. It was a very cold night. The wind was 
blowing, fine snow was falling — in fact, it was a real 
Missouri blizzard. I found out later that when I shut 
the door it caught his coat tail. He had on his Sunday 
coat and did not want to tear it or leave it, and he could 
not open the door to get loose or to get into the house, 
so he was held a prisoner out of doors in the midst of 
that awful blizzard. As soon as the meeting was closed 
he came to Bro. Jordan and promised he would never 
disturb his meeting again, and I learned afterwards 
that he kept his word. I met him four years later and 
he told me I served him right. He actually thanked 
me for doing it. 

My First Trip to Arizona 

My brother Willie had been lured to Salt River Val- 
ley, Ariz., close to Phoenix, through the advertisement 
of B. A. Hadsell, and he wrote me that wages were 
good and the country looked fine. He insisted that I 
go there, work awhile, and see the country. At that 
time I was in debt some and times were hard. Being 
possessed of a weak mind and a strong back I yielded, 
and in August, 1892, I landed at a place they called 
Glendale, nine miles northwest of Phoenix. It was 
Glendale only by name, as there was not one house on 
the town site, but now it is a village of about 3,500 
population. At that time Phoenix claimed a population 
of 10,000, but now has about 50,000. Phoenix had no 
railroad, except a " jerk water " branch of thirty miles 
from Maricopa off the Southern Pacific. There was 
no railroad at Glendale. Goods and farm products 
were freighted with sixteen-horse teams and wagons 
with trailer; and such roads, chuck holes, hub deep, 
filled with dust, and hot! I should say it was. But 
where they had irrigation such crops I never had seen. 

Well, I got work on the Rancho Del Higo, which is 
Spanish, in plain English meaning the ranch of the figs, 
or fig ranch. I shall never forget my first day's work. 



It was pitching hay, the first alfalfa I had ever seen. It 
was so hot and the water so warm that the more I 
drank the more I wanted. While I have admitted hav- 
ing a weak mind and boasted of a strong back, after 
I had tanked up with a quantity of that warm ditch 
water I found that my stomach was about as weak as 
my mind and my poor back was fast losing strength. 
Finally it was reduced to the common level of my mind 
and stomach. There I was, a poor, wretched man, but 
one part of myself was still left, and that was my will 
power. I would pitch hay awhile, then take a drink, 
then throw it up and repeat it over and over again. 

Well, my weak mind went back to my home in the 
Ozarks — home, sweet home. Oh, how I longed just to 
lie down at one of those cool, sparkling springs and 
quench my thirst ! I shall again acknowledge my weak- 
ness by saying there were actually tears in my eyes, 
and I could not help it. If you, my dear reader, had 
been in my place, I believe you, too, would have shed 
tears. A few River Brethren had been settled in the 
community a short time, and some of our Brethren 
were there. The first Sunday after my arrival Bro. 
Willie and myself went to Sunday-school and preach- 
ing, conducted by the River Brethren at Newton Had- 
sell's, in an unfinished house, which is now in the town 
limits. After Sunday-school their preacher, Henry 
Byers, came to me and wanted me to preach. I said 


no ; that I had come to hear him preach. But he stated 
he had just got up from a sick spell, and if I did not 
preach, there would be no preaching, so I consented. 

That was the first meeting of the Brethren at Glen- 
dale and the first in the territory excepting that of Bro. 
Peter Eisenbise, who had settled about six months 
prior to this, between Mesa and Tempe, some twenty- 
five miles from Glendale. He had held a few meetings in 
his locality before I came. At that meeting twenty- 
five persons were present, including the babies. 

After services Henry Byers said to me, " As some of 
your members are here, as well as our members, I 
want you to preach every other Sunday." I agreed, 
upon the condition that when I attended his meet- 
ings he would not call on me to help him in any way, 
shape or manner, and I would treat him in the same 
way, when he came to our meetings. He agreed and 
we lived up to our promise. We got along finely and 
are still the best of friends. 

Our meetings were held in the homes. Later in the 
fall other members moved in, including the Vanhorns 
from Oregon. Bro. John Vanhorn was a deacon, and 
he and I took it upon ourselves to visit all the members, 
both at Glendale and in Bro. Peter Eisenbise's com- 
munity. By the consent of all the members a council 
meeting was appointed and I presided over it. At that 
time it was decided to hold a love feast either at Christ- 


mas or New Year's, I have forgotten which, and it was 
arranged to organize into a church at the same time. 
We wrote to the elders in Southern California for 
their consent and requested the privilege to use the 
first elder available and they gave their consent. We 
were looking for Eld. Peter Forney from Iowa to 
be with us soon, and we were not disappointed, for he 
arrived in due time for our love feast. The members 
were organized into a church with about fifteen or six- 
teen members. Now this was the beginning of our 
Glendale church, as near as I can remember. 

Neither Bro. Forney nor myself was a charter mem- 
ber, as we had only traveling letters. Bro. Forney 
bought a farm and moved to Glendale later. 

Well, I will dismiss the history of the Glendale 
church for the present, but I shall have more to say 
about it later. 

In May, 1893, I started for home, working my way 
as far as Nickerson, Kans., on a cattle train. Believe 
me, I worked, punched steers much, ate little, and slept 
less. From there I got a ticket for Crocker, Mo., took 
a stage for Waynesville, borrowed a horse and rode 
home. I reached home about 9 P. M. Oh, what a 
happy meeting, after nine months of separation from 
the dear ones! How we all poured out our heartfelt 
thanks to our heavenly Father for his mercies and 
blessings and his watchful care over us while we were 


separated, one from another. It was so nice to be 
home again that I made up my mind to live and die in 
the Ozarks. But there is a saying that wise men some- 
times change, but fools never do. 

We had set out five hundred apple trees and had 
expected to stay with them. Then there came a big 
rain storm and washed out a ditch through my best 
field so deep that a horse could not cross it. The field 
was in a hollow about thirty rods wide, only twenty 
acres in the field, and the ditch went right through the 
center lengthwise and almost ruined the field. 

Winter came on and lots of snow. After wintering in 
the Salt River Valley, Ariz., one of the best winter cli- 
mates in the United States, the cold and snow made me 
long for a milder climate ; so I sat down and wrote to J. 
J. Wassam at Manvel, Tex., to trade my farm for prop- 
erty down there. In less than ten days he wrote me for 
a deed, that he had made a trade for twenty acres of 
raw land at Manvel. On March 12, 1894, we bade 
farewell to brethren and friends and started for Texas. 

Wife had been afflicted for some time with chronic 
bronchitis. I also had the same complaint. One win- 
ter I had a contract for hauling ties and banking them 
on Piney River. I worked from fourteen to fifteen 
hours a day, boarded myself and team, for $1.55 per 
day. I worked six days in the week, through rain and 
sleet, snow and cold, and I contracted a very bad cold, 


which terminated in chronic bronchitis and later in 

To Texas 

We landed in Manvel, Tex., a low, flat, hog-wallow 
prairie, O. K. We found a fully-organized body of 
about one hundred members. Eld. George Shively was 
the elder in charge. We were well received and got 
good treatment, but soon found out that we had 
jumped " out of the frying pan into the fire." I have 
never seen the like of mosquitoes, nor do I want to. 
If it had not been for the sea breeze we had part of 
the time, it might have taken nine generations of frogs 
to live one year. 

July 20, 1894, another baby girl claimed a home with 
us and we named her Rachel Elizabeth, after her 
mother. Her name is Young now. She lives at Glen- 
dale, Ariz., and has one child. I have always called her 
my Texas Star. 

In August and September, 1894, seven of the eight 
children were sick at once with typhomalarial fever. 
They sure were a sick lot, but the good Lord spared 
them all. After some of them were able to be up, but 
were still weak, we were coming home from church one 
day on foot on the open prairie. In the crowd were 
Eld. Shively, his wife and little girl, myself and four 
of our children — eight in all. We met a large Texas 



bull, which came charging right at us. Say, he sure 
was on the warpath proper, and something had to be 
done quickly or he would have killed some of the chil- 
dren if not us grown folks. Before I really knew what 
I was doing I jerked out of my pocket a big red 
handkerchief and commenced to wave it. I ran right 
toward that roaring, bellowing monster. I got his 
attention, and when he had singled me out I started to 
run and circled around the crowd. When I was past 
the crowd again, I turned, faced him, stood still till he 
made the plunge at me, and then jumped to one side 
and dodged him. The bull went on. The whole thing 
occurred in less time than it takes me to tell about it. 
It was just instinct that caused me to act at once, and 
that instinct must have been moved by a higher power. 
It seems that when a wild bull makes a plunge he shuts 
his eyes, and if he misses you he always goes on. I have 
dodged a smaller one since that time, and he made the 
same movements. Another time on the range a small 
bull — and as luck would have it, he had rather short 
horns — made for me. I was on a horse. The horse did 
not prove to be as quick as I had been and he hit the 
horse broadside. I lifted up my left leg and he struck 
the horse right under it. The impact nearly knocked 
the horse down but no harm was done. 

While in Texas my wife got better from her bron- 
chitis, while I became worse. 


Well, no crop and sickness soon weakened our finan- 
cial resources until we did not know what to do. About 
that time I received a letter from Bro. Vanhorn of 
Glendale, Ariz., wanting me to come to Arizona. He 
said I could make it O. K., and that I would get some 
financial aid. So we sold our oxen and a cow and ev- 
erything we had except our land, for which we never 
did get anything. 

Sunny Arizona 

We landed in Phoenix in the forepart of February, 
1895, with eleven to feed. We had with us an or- 
phaned niece, besides our own children, and we ac- 
tually lacked fifteen cents of having one dollar in 
money when we got to Phoenix. There were three rigs 
to meet us and we were cared for by Bro. Willie and 
others for awhile. But oh! I do hope and pray that 
no other Brethren preacher or anyone else will ever 
have to go through with the hardships that we ex- 

I got very little help from the Brethren, as most of 
them were poor, but I do not want to complain. I 
think best to refrain from telling some of the worst 
hardships endured, but this I will say: I have seen a 
house, which belonged to a rich brother, stand empty 
for want of a tenant, while at the same time a poor 
brother preacher and his family were camped out of 
doors because he had no money to pay rent; and be- 
sides, the rich brother listened to the poor brother 
preach every Sunday. I could not think that was quite 
right, but it might have seemed right had I been in the 
rich brother's place. Some one did make me a present 
of a new suit of clothes, and I never found out who 



gave it to me, but I certainly needed it. The coat was 
of the cutaway style, and wife soon had the collar 
changed so that I might still have the appearance of 
what we stood for. 

We finally bought an old hay baler on credit. The 
man we bought it from wanted to know if some of my 
brethren would go my security. I told him no, they 
would not, and if they would I would not let them. 
When I was put to the ministry I resolved not to ask 
anyone to sign notes for me, and I never have, and 
thank the Lord I have been able to meet all my debts 
without worrying anyone else. 

Hay was plentiful. We baled hay for $1.75 per ton, 
furnished the wire, and boarded ourselves. We made 
a living and a little besides. 

One hot day in August I started to Phoenix on a 
horse that had never had a saddle on before. He had 
been raised on the range and was eight years old be- 
fore he was caught up. He bucked with me until the 
saddle girth broke and I struck the ground with the 
saddle between my legs. I thought I was some rider, 
since I could stay with the saddle. I borrowed a better 
saddle and tried it again. I mounted, held a tight rein 
and put the horse in a run. I ran him about six miles, 
and he finally got his head down and went to bucking 
proper. He was what we called a "winding blade." 
That means he would swap ends while in the air and 


make a crooked jump. Well, on this occasion he must 
have done his best, for when he twisted in the air I 
failed to twist with him. That put my body in a twist, 
and when he came to the ground, something inside of 
me popped and I could scarcely get my breath. I really 
thought my time had come. After he had made sev- 
eral more jumps, I was sitting on him, perfectly bal- 
anced, but oh ! what a pain I had in my internal region ! 
When he squatted to make another jump, I stepped off 
and the horse stood still, as docile as a lamb. A man 
in the field close to the road came to my assistance, and 
another man in a cart came up behind me. They went 
to a farmhouse, got some bandages, tied me up, and 
the man in the cart took me to Pheonix. I sat down on 
the curb, not knowing what to do, when Jim Meadows, 
a man that had worked for me on the baler, saw me, 
and took me to the home of his brother, Jake Meadows, 
and there they cared for me like two brothers. I sent a 
card to Glendale that night, and Bro. Harvey Betts 
brought wife to me the next morning. In one week 
Bro. Jake Parrot took me home in his fine carriage. It 
was found that the long ribs on my left side were brok- 
en and the short ribs severed from my backbone. For 
ten days I lay between life and death. I could scarcely 
move. Those ribs would not knit, and for one year, 
when I would twist my body I could feel those broken 
ribs grit together. But after a year they lapped over 


and knit permanently, but there was left a pressure on 
my heart and left lung which was of no benefit to my 
general health. Let me state right here I have broken 
wild horses and mules to ride since that time, and had 
some hard buckers, but none to compare with that 
" winding blade." I rode once since when the girth 
broke, and of course I stayed with the saddle, and that 
horse turned on me while I was yet on the ground and 
tried his best to jump on me and kill me, but I was too 
swift for him. Another time I was riding a mule on a 
narrow trail down a steep mountain. I was chewing 
a big cud of pine gum when the saddle slipped over 
the mule's neck. When I tried to step off the saddle 
turned, and being on a side hill, I fell under the mule's 
belly across the trail with my head up-hill. How the 
mule did buck! — but he had sense enough not to fall 
over the precipice. As luck would have it, he came 
down in the same place and missed me, but I was still 
under his belly and still chewing my gum. Two other 
fellows were with me and laughing all the while. I 
was not a bit excited and I never missed a chew on 
that gum. There were not many horses that I could 
not ride, and I believe I could ride any mule that had 
hair. A good many other folks had the same opinion. 

My son Charley at one time had the credit of being 
the best rider on the Mogollon Mountain range, but 
that was no credit to him nor to his father, either. He 


now holds the office of high sheriff of Imperial County, 
Calif., and I do not consider that any credit, either, to 
him or to his parents. But to his credit and that of the 
rest of our dear children is the fact that they are still 
so good to their old parents and see to it that they do 
not lack anything for their comfort. 

We had taken a contract to clear, level and water 
320 acres of land for ex-General Churchill. I was to 
have twenty acres with water stock for my labor. My 
boys did most of the work, and when I had it com- 
pleted he came out,.looked it over and said it was O. K. 
But in a few days I found that the land was worthless 
without water. That was another great disappointment 
to me.* 

In the spring of 1896 Walter Swihart came into our 
midst. He had been elected to the ministry at Wa- 
waka, Ind., before he left there. He preached his first 
sermon here at Glendale in a tent which had been 
erected by the River Brethren to be used jointly by 
them and our brethren, alternating every other Sunday. 
The same spring the churchhouse was built, but not 
fully completed, not being ceiled on the sides. Since 
that time there have been additions and improvements 
until it is now quite modern. Bro. Peter Forney was 
to have preached the first sermon in the new church- 
house, but he was not very well and I filled the appoint- 
ment. It so happened that I preached the first sermon 

* Mr. Churchill died very suddenly and his widow failed to carry 
out the contract in regard to the water stock. 


at Glendale, the first in the territory except for Bro. 
Peter Isenbise, whom I have already mentioned, who 
had settled about twenty-five miles from Glendale, be- 
tween Tempe and Mesa. I delivered the first funeral 
sermon that was given here by the Brethren, which 
was for Sister Sally Rhodes. I officiated at the first 
marriage that was solemnized by the Brethren here. I 
presided over the first council meeting, officiated at the 
first love feast, and baptized the first person that was 
baptized by triune immersion in what is now the state 
of Arizona. The Glendale church has not made the 
growth it should have made. It has had its ups and 
downs, probably about the same as all other frontier 
places. It now has about one hundred and fifteen 
members. However, the Phoenix congregation is an 
outgrowth of the Glendale church. In December, 
1896, I was sent to Globe, Ariz., on a mission. Lee 
Ikenbery, the son of a brother in Iowa, had written to 
Bro. Forney that he thought there was an opportunity 
to do good if a preacher could be sent up there. I 
made the trip in an old government stage coach. Well, 
the trip seemed to be a failure, only I went with Mr. 
Ikenbery on the back of a mule twenty miles to the 
McMillian silver mine and solemnized his marriage to 
Miss Garlinghouse. She was as fine a specimen of 
feminine humanity as ever was seen on the frontiers. 
I got acquainted with George W. P. Hunt, who is now 


serving his sixth term as governor of Arizona. He has 
never forgotten me and evinces his friendship by occa- 
sionally putting his feet under my table. He also has 
shown his confidence in me by taking me with him to 
the state prison a number of times to preach to the 
prisoners, and also to the reform school at Fort Grant, 
where I preached. I have preached in many places and 
to many classes of people, but those confined in the 
penitentiary outclass in intelligence almost any other 
body of people I ever met. They did the singing and 
praying. Here is a poem one of them gave me. It is 
of his own composition: 

"I Found That the Bible Wu True" 

Tune, " Two Little Girls in Blue " 
1. An old man mused on his sinful past — 
Of a life he had wasted for years; 
When he spoke of his youth his grandchildren asked 

Why the memory had caused his tears. 
He said, " My boys, I will tell you a tale, 

It may be a warning to you. 
I found when too late, now my race is in, 
That the dear old Bible was true. 

" I found that the Bible was true, lads, 
I found that the Bible was true : 
I read it at morning, I read it at evening, 

I read it on Sundays, too ; 
But the last of all, when on God I call, 
I'll prove that the Bible is true. 


2. "A scoffer I lived for years, my lads, 

Though many the warnings I had. 
My mother, with tears streaming down her face, 

Would pray for her wayward lad; 
But I laughed at her tears and her warnings, 

My money I quickly ran through, 
But I woke one day when my hair was grey, 

And knew that the Bible was true. 

3. " And now, dear children, take warning by me, 

Your youth will quickly pass, 
Your eyes grow dim, and your hairs turn grey, 

The judgment will come at last ; 
You'll find when too late to turn, lads, 

And do as you ought to do, 
That your mother's God is the One to serve, 

And the dear old Bible is true!" 

—By Jeff. O. Shaw. 

Opening of the Verde Mission 

In the summer of 1896 William Van Horn and 
family, my wife, six of our children and myself went 
up to People's Valley, between Glendale and Prescott, 
where it was cool, and spent about six weeks. While 
there we held meetings. Quite an interest was shown 
by the people of the valley. The next summer we went 
back, but I thought I might stay and keep out of the 
heat, so we drove our cows along with us. At that 
time, the way the roads ran, it was about forty miles 
across the desert, without water. We had depended on 
a water hole about halfway across the desert, which 
had plenty of water the year before. We drove off the 
road about four miles out of our way, but when we got 
there we were disappointed, for there was not a drop of 
water, and the supply that we had with us was pretty 
well gone. We had to make a dry camp, and how we 
did want a drink before we camped that night! Our 
good shepherd dog had perished. No one who has not 
crossed those hot, dry deserts in August and run out of 
water can fully realize what it means. We now have a 
highway over the same route, and I can go over it in 
one hour's time, but not without thinking of the past. 

The Lord was merciful to us and we landed at Has- 



syampa River at 11 A. M. the next day. There was no 
water, but we knew enough to dig for some. There 
are so many rivers in the West that are dry on top but 
have an underflow, so we dug in the river bed and got 
plenty of water. 

I am reminded of the Forty-Niners who crossed the 
plains on their way to California for gold, and so many 
of them perished for water. Had they dug only a little 
deeper than they did to bury their dead companions, 
they would have had all the water they needed. Also I 
have seen many souls perishing for the Water of Life, 
and so close to it. How near, how near, and yet so 
far ! They don't seem to know where to dig or how to 
dig, or rather, they seem not to know where to go or 
what to do to get the Water of Life, and some don't 
seem to want it and would rather drink the stagnant 
water on the lower levels than to climb the mountain 
height and quench their thirst from living springs. 

We went on to People's Valley and found a flock of 
Seventh Day Adventists camping where we had camped 
the year before. They had a big tent and were ex- 
pounding Adventism to the people. They had two big 
preachers in their crowd, Eld. States and Eld. Isles, 
very intelligent men who had their lessons well learned. 

I have forgotten how it all started, but a debate was 
proposed and it was left for the crowd to decide. They 

The way I traveled to my appointments 
during most of my ministerial career 


all voted for a debate and the questions to debate were 

First : " Resolved, that the Church of the Brethren 
possesses the characteristics which entitle it to be rec- 
ognized as the church of Christ. C. E. Gillett, affirma- 
tive; Eld. Isles, negative. 

Second : " Resolved, that the Seventh Day Adventist 
church possess the characteristics which entitle it to 
be recognized as the church of Christ." Eld. Isles, 
affirmative; C. E. Gillett, negative. 

The debate lasted a whole week. Shortly after the 
debate was concluded Will Van Horn, one of our 
party, said to me, " Charley, you did well." Then later 
one morning he said to Eld. Isles, the Adventist preach- 
er, " Good morning. How are you this morning? The 
preacher replied, " I am just as happy as I want to be. 
This is a beautiful world and there is nothing to mar 
my peace and joy." Shortly Mr. Van Horn came 
around to my wife and said, " Well, Rachel, how are 
you this morning?" She said, " I would be as happy as 
I would want to be, if there were not so many out the 
Ark of Safety ; but as it is, how can I be really happy 
when there are so many who have not accepted the 
Lord ?" He then said, " How can that old preacher 
be so happy, then, when he feels that all who do not 
keep the Sabbath day are condemned to hell ? He can't 
surely have the love for humanity that a preacher ought 


to have." This William Van Horn is now a member 
of our church. 

We went on our way to Prescott, the mile-high city, 
and then on to the Verde River. There we got work 
for our teams and stayed, and the Van Horns went 
home without us. The first Sunday we were there I 
went to church on Middle Verde at a schoolhouse. A 
Baptist preacher by the name of Bristow preached. He 
was an old timer, well respected and known far and 
near, but about fifty years behind the times. We took 
dinner with him and he requested me to preach the 
next Sunday. This was the beginning of the Verde 

I wrote to the Mission Board of Southern California 
and Arizona, explained the conditions, and requested 
that some one be sent there to hold meetings, and, if 
thought best, to place a man as a home missionary in 
the field and let me get away. 

My reason for requesting them to send some one 
there first was because I did not suppose they had ever 
heard, before they received my letter, that there was 
such a fellow living as Charlie Gillett. I did not ex- 
pect they would be willing to risk my judgment, so I 
requested them to send some one there that they could 
rely on. At that time Thomas Keiser and David Over- 
holzer were on the board. I have forgotten who the 
other one was ; anyway, they heeded my call, and they 


surely used good judgment in sending the right man in 
the person of Bro. F. Masterson, who held some meet- 
ings in Old Camp Verde and got acquainted with us 
and the people. He must have made a favorable report, 
for I received a letter from the board, saying that if 
I would stay with the work, they would give me $20 
per month, and I accepted. Up to that time I had al- 
ways given more for the cause than I had received. 

March 5, 1898, I had just returned from Prescott 
with a load of freight, when wife presented me with 
another baby girl, whom we named Addie Bell. She 
used to think that she was one day older than I was 
because her birthday was on the fifth and mine was the 
next day. Her name is now Kurtz, and she has three 

Well, the next day after Addie was born, Sunday, 
March 6, W. E. Smith was baptized in the Verde 
River, the first person ever baptized by triune immer- 
sion in the territory of Arizona. Our meetings were 
held in schoolhouses up and down the Verde and its 
tributaries; viz., Oak Creek, Beaver Creek, and Clear 
Creek. I almost always went on horseback. 

There were the M. E. South, the Campbellites, and 
the Baptist preachers, and time for preaching at the 
schoolhouses had to be arranged so as not to clash. I 
generally preached three times a week, besides holding 
a series of meetings. I leased a small farm for cash 


rent, and besides freighted goods from Prescott, the 
nearest railroad point excepting Jerome, twenty-five 
miles distant, which had a narrow-gauge railroad. The 
Verde was a very narrow valley with an altitude of 
about 3,000 feet, and Prescott was one mile high. It 
sometimes was quite cold, and in freighting I had to 
camp out two nights on each trip and sleep on the 
ground. One particular night I shall never forget. I 
became very thirsty, reached out, took my canteen to 
get a drink, and found it frozen solid. It required lots 
of bedding to keep from freezing, and my eats con- 
sisted of bacon and bread or flapjacks, flour mixed with 
water and fried in bacon grease. I have seen my dog 
actually refuse to eat the same bread that I ate, but to 
me it generally tasted good, for roughing it makes a 
man hungry. 

We saw some pretty hard times and found it impos- 
sible to make ends meet. 

The next spring, 1899, I went to the District Meet- 
ing, which was held in the college building in Lords- 
burg, Calif., now called La Verne. In giving in my 
report, I told them all of our troubles and that I was 
$100 behind. Eld. S. G. Lehmer made a motion for a 
collection to be taken up for me right then, and while 
the hat was going around he fairly shouted, "If this 
collection does not amount to $100, I will make it out 
to that amount myself." 


Well, I got the $100 and two or three over, but I 
never knew how much Bro. Sol had to put in and I 
guess he has forgotten the amount himself, for that 
was ovef twenty-eight years ago. However, that started 
something, for the Mission Board concluded to raise 
my salary to $25 per month, and the next year they 
raised it to $32.50. That was the pay I got. The bal- 
ance of the time I was on the mission, which was six 

January 9, 1901, our eleventh and last baby was 
born. She was a bright little girl and we named her 
Elva Etta. Her name now is Schrock. She lives in 
California and has one little girl. 

If I have not missed counting we have ten living chil- 
dren, five boys and five girls, five sons-in-law, five 
daughters-in-law (and not a tobacco fiend in the bunch), 
thirty-two living grandchildren, two granddaughters- 
in-law, one grandson-in-law, and two great step-grand- 
daughters. Counting our in-laws there is a little family 
of sixty, all strong and healthy. Should the Lord 
spare us to see our fourscore birthday, we might have 
a pretty good-sized family. Besides raising our own 
children, we have had seven or eight orphans in our 
home at different times, from one to twelve years of 
age. The most of our children have a fairly good 
business education, with three schoolma'ams in the 
bunch. The eldest son helped the girls through school, 


and the whole of them had ambition to assist 
themselves and their parents. I never like to hear par- 
ents say that children don't ever pay for their raising. 
Mine have, and if they had not, I should think it was 
my fault, and I would be ashamed to tell it. 

Excuse my digression from the subject, but in re- 
cording the birth of number eleven, I got to running 
down the line and did not know when to stop, for we 
surely think lots of our children. 

One day, when Elva was about six months old, wife 
was going with me to church in Jerome, twenty-five 
miles away. We hitched up my saddle pony to a one- 
horse buggy. Now that pony was gentle as she could 
be, but had never been hitched to a buggy, and had 
never had a blind bridle on. We hitched her up and 
drove her around awhile. She behaved so well that 
finally wife and I started. We got out in the road 
about eighty rods from home and she threw her head 
around far enough to see the buggy. It scared her and 
she started to run, but I held back, and then she com- 
menced to kick. My wife was holding the baby. Such 
kicking I never saw before nor since. Her heels flew 
past our heads time and again, but we managed to 
dodge them. She kept on kicking — kicked the dash- 
board off, broke the shafts, and kicked herself loose 
from the buggy, turned around, and stood and looked 
at us as docile as a lamb. We then sat on what was 


left of that rig and sang one verse of " Jesus knows all 
about our struggles, he will guide till the day is done." 
There was a neighbor boy, or rather a young man, in 
the field next to the road, watching the fun. His name 
was Ed Mundholland. He said, " Mr. Gillett, go back 
and get another horse and hitch to my spring wagon 
and go on to your appointment." I did so and lost only 
one hour's time. Say, that buggy was so near kicked 
to pieces that I never moved it from that place. 


A Fast Ride 

An old proverb says that truth is sometimes stranger 
than fiction. 

It was in the fall of 1900 that I had a call to go to 
Glendale to hold some meetings. Son Charley had 
come up there to the Verde on a rented bicycle. The 
distance was 110 miles, over mountains and desert. He 
had expected to return, but changed his mind. He told 
me that if I would take the bicycle back to Phoenix, he 
would pay my way. He had come up in one day and 
he thought I could make it in two days, and I thought 
so too. Well, he gave me a $20 gold piece and I had 
seventy-five cents of my own, so early one morning I 
started. The first thing was to push the bicycle up a 
mountain road ten miles. I was not in the best of 
health. When I got to the top of that mountain I was 
awfully tired ; and dark overtook me before I had gone 
half of the way to where I had expected to stay that 
night. I had passed only one house all that day and 
had not seen a single human being. But two or three 
miles off the road a friend of mine was living. He was 
George Brown, an old timer. So I turned aside and 
got to his house quite awhile after dark, a very tired 
man. They seemed glad to see me, fed me, lodged me 



and treated me as fine as if I had been a king. The 
next morning it was cloudy and looked as if it might 
rain. Mr. Brown told me not to go back to the road I 
had left, and he would show me a closer cut. So he 
accompanied me out on a hill or mountain where there 
was a trail which ran around on a backbone of the 
mountain, in a curve or rainbow shape, and came back 
to the road at a camp station in about fifteen miles. 
It seemed all right, so I mounted my bike and away I 
went. But before I had gone far it began to rain. The 
soil on that mountain was mallapai, something similar 
to Eastern gumbo. It stuck to the wheels and I had to 
dismount and push. Soon it would not push and I had 
to carry that bike, mud and all. The next thing I 
knew I was in a real cloud. I wonder how many of 
my readers were ever in a cloud on a mountain. I have 
been a number of times. I soon discovered that I 
had lost my trail. Oh, what a fix, in a cloud on a moun- 
tain, no trail and " packing " my bike ! There was one 
blessed thing ; I had not lost my head nor my pep, and 
I knew my direction. But to cut across that curve or 
rainbow and go straight to Bumble Bee (my next sta- 
tion) I had to go down the mountain and climb up the 
other side. Believe me, I went down that mountain 
where I do not think any man had been before or has 
been since. But I made it to Bumble Bee at 1 P. M., 
more alive than dead. The town consisted of one 


house, a little store with about one-half wagon load 
of groceries, and a corral. I spent 25 cents for some 
crackers and cheese and started on. Now the rain was 
over. The soil was composed of granite. The road 
was little more than a trail. It took one team to pull 
up an empty wagon, for it was a steep grade for fif- 
teen miles, and the road very crooked most of the way. 
There was a bluff on the left and a precipice on the 
right. My bike had only a hand brake. I cleaned the 
mud off, mounted and started down hill. But, lo, my 
troubles had just begun. My brake broke and away I 
went! Well, since that time I have ridden in Fords, 
Cadillacs, Studebakers, Lincolns, and an airship, but 
believe me, that was the fastest ride I ever had. I 
thought my time had come, but did not have to think 
very long, for right ahead of me was a short elbow 
curve; to the right and straight ahead was a solid 
stone wall. I was fairly flying, and I started to make 
the turn, but poor me, I could not turn, but went 
smashing right up against that natural stone wall. My, 
but I was glad to get stopped, but it was too sudden to 
feel pleasant, and what a shock ! I managed to pick 
myself up and thought sure my leg was broken, but 
after feeling and rubbing it awhile I found I had no 
fractured bones. When I picked up my bike, I saw 
both handles were broken off, and then it was push 
again. I waded the Agua Fria River, and that night 


reached Goddard, where I should have been the first 
night, still a little more alive than dead. I was then 
halfway to Glendale. I went to bed without any sup- 
per, spent a restless night, ate some breakfast the next 
morning, asked what my bill was, and Mrs. Goddard 
said "one dollar." I handed her the $20 gold piece 
but she could not change it. She told me she knew 
who I was, and I could leave it at a certain place in 
Phoenix, which I did. It was fifteen miles to the next 
station. I made an early start, pushed on, and arrived 
there a little before noon. This was New River Sta- 
tion, just one house and camp ground in the foothills, 
one old man to keep water for the range cattle and en- 
tertain travelers. When I reached there he was stand- 
ing in the doorway with both hands on the casing 
above his head. I said, " Mister, my bike is broken, 
and I am sick, and I want to stay with you until I can 
catch a ride to the Valley." 

But to my consternation he said, " I have no place 
for sick folks, and if you are sick you'd better hit the 
pike." I replied " I am sick and can not," but he de- 
clared, " I can't keep you." As I looked longingly past 
him I saw a canvas cot and asked him, " Can't I lie 
down on that cot and rest awhile ?" He said, " No, it 
is my cot." 

Well, I sure was a sick, lame, sore man and I had a 
high fever and headache. It was twenty-five miles to 


the next water. Say, reader, what would you have 
done in my place, and what do you suppose I did? 
Well, I'll tell you what I did. I had tackled mad bulls, 
bucking horses, rattlesnakes, and Gila monsters. I 
had gone hungry and cold and I was at that moment al- 
most all in, and that old canvas cot looked good to me. 
I did not think that one man could keep me from lying 
down on it, so I just ducked under his arm and started 
for that cot and said, 

" I don't care whose cot it is ; I am going to lie down 
on it," and I did ; and he neither did anything nor said 
a word. In about fifteen minutes I broke the silence by 
saying, " Old man, you might turn some kid off on the 
desert to die like a dog, but I am too old for you. I 
shall stay right here until I get a ride across the 

He said nothing, but after awhile he went to the 
kitchen, baked some biscuits, fried some bacon, put it 
on the table and finally opened his mouth, saying, 

" Stranger, maybe you would feel better if you had 
a cup of coffee." 

I said I believed I would. Well, after I had drunk 
my coffee and had eaten a little I went back to that cot 
and I did feel better. He then resumed his silence. 
At sundown, as luck or Providence would have it, a 
teamster drove into camp, headed for the Valley with 
a four-horse team and an empty wagon. I told him my 


troubles and he proved to be a real man. He said, 

" Don't eat breakfast with the old man, because he 
gets up so late, but eat with me, so we can get an early 

I ate supper with the old man and when night came 
on he showed me to another room, with two beds as 
fine as I ever slept in. Before we left the next morn- 
ing I handed him that $20 gold piece and told him, 

" Take your pay out of it." He had no change and 
I said all the change I had was 50 cents. He replied, 

" Give it to me ; it will do," 

And I did. I shook his hand and said, 

" Good-bye, and if you ever get over to Camp Verde 
call on Parson Gillett and you will never be turned out 
to die like a dog." 

I have been along that road many times since, but I 
have never again seen that old man. 

The only reason I could think of that caused him to 
treat me as he did was that the law was so strict. If 
anyone died, there would have to be a doctor's certifi- 
cate that he had died a natural death or an inquest 
would be held. If I looked as bad as I felt, he proba- 
bly thought I might die on his hands and there might 
be a murder charge filed against him, so he would 
rather I would die on the desert than to run any 

I reached the Arizona Canal about 4 P. M., and the 


teamster would not take a cent for my ride or board. 
I thanked him and said " Good-bye." 

I was then about ten miles from Glendale. I found 
some baling wire, tied the handles on my bike and man- 
aged to ride where Bro. Jim Coffelt lived. I still was 
more alive than dead, and was glad of it. But I was 
too sore and tired to preach till I had rested a few days. 

Now there is an auto highway over that same route, 
with some changes, but when I go over it I think of 
the trip I made twenty-seven years ago on the bike. 

When the meetings were at an end I took the train 
for Prescott, expecting to take the stage for home, 
but luck favored me, for Dr. Ketcherside was there 
with a spring wagon and he took me home. Well, 
home again, and I still felt like thanking the Lord and 
taking new courage. 


Development of the Mission 

We had considerable assistance in our ministerial 
work on the Verde, as the Mission Board from time to 
time sent ministers from Southern California to assist 
me and to hold series of meetings. They were, first, 
Eld. Ben Masterson, whom I already have mentioned ; 
Bro. Joseph Trostle, and later Eld. Simon Yundt and 
Eld. Edmond Forney. While they were there they 
held a council meeting and I was ordained to the full 
ministry. O. E. Gillett, my son, stood by my side and 
was installed into the ministry at the same time. W. 
E. Trostle and Eld. H. R. Taylor also were sent into 
our midst on separate occasions. In the early part of 
our mission on the Verde, Bro. George Chemberlen 
came into our midst on his own responsibility, held a 
series of meetings and cheered us in our work. While 
there we visited the Montezuma Castle and the Indian 
Wickiups. He made the statement, 

" I am more glad that I am a white man than ever 
before in my life." 

The Verde Valley had prior to this been an Indian 
reservation, and Camp Verde had been a government 
post, but after it was found that the white man could 
make a good living on the land, the Indians were re- 



moved to San Carlos. But still they were coming back- 
on the Verde, until sometimes there were a fourth as 
many Indians as there were white folks, and occa- 
sionally we lived close neighbors to them. My wife 
has been in their camp at midnight, doctoring their 
papooses; sometimes teaching their children to speak 
English. We have often wondered why the Church of 
the Brethren had never established missions among 
them, realizing the fact that we owe to them as much as 
or more than we do to foreign missions, although I 
am not and never have been opposed to foreign mis- 
sions. But why have we not done something for the 
poor, ignorant, superstitious Indians, who are in our 
very midst? And not only the Indians, but there are 
thousands of white folks in our state who have never 
heard the pure Gospel preached. I have been in homes 
that have never had a Bible. I was in one home in Gila 
County where a grown girl told me that she never had 
heard a prayer offered until she heard me pray. 


















Yes, cowboys. I have been among them and learned 
their ways and manners, made friends with them and 
solemnized their marriages. At two different times I 
have had two couples, cowboys and their sweethearts, 
on the floor at the same time and solemnized their 
marriage. They always showed me the greatest re- 
spect. I have been in their camps, have eaten with 
them and enjoyed their association. Generally they 
wintered at Camp Verde, staying on the mountains 
most of the time during the summer. Sometimes they 
would be down at Camp Verde, and have a dance ap- 
pointed for the same time that I was to preach, and 
they would bring their girls to church, pay good atten- 
tion and seem to enjoy it, but after the meeting was 
out and the old folks had gone home they would have 
their dance. Once in particular when Bro. Taylor was 
with me, we went to Cherry Creek to the schoolhouse 
and made an appointment for meetings a day sooner 
than we had been holding services. This was on Fri- 
day night. I had an unusually large congregation, and 
gave out an appointment for the next two evenings, 
Saturday and Sunday. I had wondered why there 
were so many cowboys present, but the next month, 



when I came back to fill my regular appointment, I was 
told why so many cowboys were there on the previous 
occasion. There had been a dance appointed at the 
schoolhouse on Friday night, before I gave the an- 
nouncement, but when they came to the dance, they 
held a caucus and decided they would give way to 
preaching, and as I was one day ahead of time, they 
thought I would not preach on Saturday night and so 
agreed that they would have their dance then. But 
when I announced meeting for Saturday night, they 
abandoned their dance entirely and came to church just 
the same. Bro. Taylor did the preaching, to the satis- 
faction of everyone present, and one man was so well 
pleased that, not knowing how else to express himself, 
he made the remark that Bro. Taylor was a " cracker- 
jack " of a preacher. One goat man dressed a goat, 
wrapped it up in a sheet, tied it behind my saddle and 
had me take it home. 

On our way home we were to pass a wayside saloon 
kept by a man and his wife by the name of Horn. 
Both were never known to be sober at the same time. 
Bro. Taylor a few nights before had preached a sermon 
about women, telling all about their good qualities and 
their moral superiority. He remarked that he never 
had seen a woman drunk. Just before we got to that 
saloon I told Bro. Taylor I was going to show him a 
drunken woman, and sure enough, as we passed by 


there was Mrs. Horn. She weighed about 250 pounds. 
As we neared she came out to the road, frothing at the 
mouth, as drunk as she could be. She stood there and 
commenced hollering at us. I said, 

" There, Bro. Taylor, look at that, and I'll show you 
a drunken woman." 

But he said, 

" You won't," and he looked the other way and 
added, " you are not going to spoil my sermon." 

We were riding a couple of small mules and the one 
that Bro. Taylor had was named Billy Bryan. Bro. 
Taylor was not as used to riding mules as I was, and 
he was somewhat afraid of the animal, but I told him 
that Billy was perfectly gentle and would not kick. 
Afterwards he reminded me of what I had said, re- 

" Billy kicked me just the same." 

One of the saddest scenes I have ever seen was 
when I was called on to preach the funeral sermon of a 
young girl who was not quite fifteen years old who 
had committed suicide on a ranch on Clear Creek about 
six miles from Camp Verde. I had never seen the 
family before. They had moved in from the mountains 
recently. Their name was Farrel and the girl's name 
was Maggie Bell. The girl had been courted by a 
grass-widower whom I did not know and who was 
forty years old. He wanted to marry the girl but of 


course her parents objected to such an unequal yoke 
and protested. But when the girl found that she 
could not marry him, she took a dose of strychnine and 
killed herself. It so happened at that time that some 
of the cowboys were down from the mountains and at- 
tended the funeral which was held in the Clear Creek 
schoolhouse. The house was full of people and a good 
many could not get in. At the close of the meeting, 
before we sang the last song, the father and the mother 
wailed and lamented, repeating over and over, " Oh, 
Maggie, why did you do it?" When I called for a 
closing song, the congregation broke down and could 
not finish the song. Tears were flowing from big, lit- 
tle, old and young, cowboys and all. 



Recently while visiting some of our old friends at 
Camp Verde, wife and I and our granddaughter, Es- 
ther Statler, and my brother Willie and wife, were in- 
vited to attend a banquet in honor of a doctor by the 
name of Taylor, who had been there thirteen years. It so 
happened that wife and self were seated at the table 
also as guests of honor. Such a wonderful feed, which 
was served out of doors, it has seldom been our privi- 
lege to partake of. The Methodist preacher, who was 
toastmaster of the occasion, called on various ones to 
make speeches. Among the things he said was this : 

" We have with us an old pioneer, who also is a sky 
pilot, and we want him to tell us something about his 
pioneer days on the Verde." 

He then introduced me to the crowd and I did not 
know anything better than to respond. I stated that 
I would tell of some of the results of my work on the 
Verde. So I related this : 

" Some of the older ones among you remember a 
man who used to live here by the name of Ben Snyder. 
He did not believe in man, God, nor the devil, yet he 
sometimes attended our church. It so happened that 
at one time when I was freighting from Prescott to 



Camp Verde, about halfway between the two, at a place 
called Ash Creek, I found a man lying down and wal- 
lowing in the dirt like a hog. He looked up and seeing 
me said, 

" ' Hello, there, parson, don't you know me ?' 

" I said ' No.' 

" He replied, ' You ought to know me, for you con- 
verted me.' 

" I answered, ' You look like some of my work. If 
the Lord had converted you, you would not be lying 
there wallowing like a hog.' " 

Also I told them, " You remember Bill Lane, who 
kept the saloon. I used to go to his place on Sunday 
and say, ' Bill, sober up your old drunks and bring 
them over to church tonight.' 

" He would say, ' I will,' and he would. They 
would pay good attention and behave themselves, but 
as far as results are concerned it was another Snyder 


Things Prehistoric 

In and around Camp Verde are prehistoric ruins, 
probably not surpassed by anything else of like nature 
in the United States. There are hundreds of Cliff 
Dwellers' houses, some of which are in a perfect state 
of preservation. One of these — Montezuma Castle — 
on Beaver Creek, about seventy-five feet above the 
level of the creek, is sheltered under a big ledge of 
rock. It contains nineteen rooms. The government 
has placed ladders to ascend to the rooms, and also a 
building housing a museum. A caretaker is on the 
ground to preserve the property and to explain things 
to visitors. He should have been there a good many 
years ago, for much has been carried away. One man 
over twenty years ago sold a collection of relics he had 
made for $1,500. This collection, if kept till now, 
would have meant a small fortune. Some of the rooms 
are excavated out of the body of the cliff, while some 
of the front walls are of masonry, plastered with native 
gypsum, of which the whole cliff consists. One can 
plainly see the finger prints in the plaster, proving that 
the workers used their bare hands. Some of the houses 
are literally filled with bats. The bats have so obnox- 



ious an odor that some faint-hearted persons cannot 
stand to explore the ruins. 

These prehistoric people must have attained some 
degree of civilization, for among their ruins were 
found cloth, lace, pottery, toys, and other things of 
interest. Some of them must have been farmers, as 
I have already mentioned their irrigation projects. Too, 
many corn cobs have been found among their ruins. 
Bill Back, the man who owns the Montezuma well, 
found, hidden from the teeth of time a few large white 
beans, a few of which when planted grew. He now 
has quite a start of them, and they bid fair to become 
an article of commercial value. 

Now, let us stop and think a few minutes about those 
beans lying dormant for, no one knows how many 
ages, placed in the clefts of the rocks by some human 
hand. God only knows who they were or when. But 
these beans, discovered in this, the twentieth century, 
by other human beings, planted and watered, and com- 
ing in contact with the laws of the God of Nature, 
germinate and spring forth, develop and produce exact 
duplicates of the ones secreted there so many ages ago. 
This is not a fairy story, like the bean that Jack 
planted, but I have seen them and have related the 

Realizing these facts, can any one doubt the resur- 
rection from the dead? A few days ago Bro. Swi- 


hart, in preaching the funeral sermon of Bro. James 
Coffelt, my brother-in-law, referred to these beans. He 
held one of them before the congregation, and after 
relating its history, drew from the illustration a very 
effective and appropriate truth relative to the resur- 
rection from the dead. 

Further up Beaver Creek, about eight miles, there 
is the famous Montezuma Well. From the level of 
rocks it is about seventy-five feet down to the level of 
the water. There are only two places where one can 
descend from the top to the surface of the water. The 
well has an area of about three acres and in the deep- 
est part no bottom has ever been reached, although 
often sounded. Around the rim of the well, Cliff 
Dwellers left a number of their houses, which were 
dug back into the rock, and are still perfectly pre- 
served. Near the rim of the well on the east side are 
the ruins of some mammoth buildings of stone. This 
well is situated on top of a hill on the bank of Beaver 
Creek. There is a continuous flow of water, never 
increasing, never decreasing, going through to Beaver 
Creek, which amounts to one hundred and fifty miner 
inches. (A miner's inch consists of one square inch 
with a four-inch pressure on top of if.) From its ap- 
pearance it is thought that at some time this well 
flowed over its top, and that the ancients put a tunnel 
through to draw the water out below. The tunnel has 


fallen in, but the water still finds its course out about 
fifteen rods, to where it conies out of the bluff. This 
water, being of a limestone nature, was used by the 
ancients for irrigation purposes. Their ditches can be 
traced for a number of miles ; they were used so many 
ages that the limewater formed a solid limestone crust 
four inches thick on both sides and at the bottom of 
the ditch, which is about three feet wide and three feet 
deep. The laterals from this ditch can be traced, and 
also are lined with limestone. In later years some 
geologists examined the ditch and estimated that not 
less than a thousand years has elapsed since it had been 
used. Mr. Back, the present owner of the property, 
has since discovered another ditch, which ran under 
this one, and was probably used long before this one 
was built. Now, Mr. Back says, if this one ditch is a 
thousand years old, how old may the under one be ? 

Anyone traveling through Arizona should not fail 
to see the Montezuma Well and Castle, and also should 
go one mile up the creek to the Soda Springs. These 
springs are owned and kept by a family by the name of 
Finney, who are my special friends. Among others 
they requested me to write this book. Last, but not 
least, about one and a half miles from Camp Verde, 
west by south, is what is known as the Salt Mine, 
though it contains substances other than salt. It is now 
being worked by a chemical company. The salt mine 


is practically a mountain of solid salt and other ele- 
ments. In putting a tunnel into this salt mine at a 
depth of 150 feet they found relics of a prehistoric age. 
Among them is a well-preserved pair of sandals. I have 
handled these sandals and am convinced that whoever 
wore them, wherever they came from, or how many 
ages ago, he had a perfect foot like a man and not like 
a monkey. I have the testimony of those I can depend 
upon that the sandals came out of that salt mine at a 
depth of 150 feet. Also at a depth of fifty feet in the 
salt mine they found the skeleton of a man with a 
battle axe sticking through his skull, with the handle 
of the axe and everything intact. That skeleton can 
now be seen in the Smithsonian Institution, Washing- 
ton, D. C. Will some of my readers please tell me 
where these people came from, who they were, and 
how they got down there ? 

On Oak Creek, in a mound called Sugar Loaf, there 
is a rock, in which is the deep impression of a large 
lion's foot. There are two other layers of rock on top 
of that. Now, when was that lion's track made? I 
know of only one explanation : These things belong to 
a prehistoric era, and they prove the man's existence in 
this world before Adam was created. Else what did 
the Lord mean when he told Adam and Eve, to " Be 
fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth"? And 
if the Lord saw fit to destroy the known world and 


save Noah, the eighth person preserved in the ark, and 
hand down to us a complete history of the facts, is it 
not possible that before Adam's time he may have de- 
stroyed another world of people and told us nothing 
about it? Again, in the first part of the first chapter 
of Genesis he says, " In the beginning God created the 
heaven and earth. And the earth was without form 
and void." Now, when that beginning was, we know 
not, but he did say that darkness dwelt upon the face 
of the waters and God said, " Let there be light; and 
there was light. . . . and God divided the light 
from the darkness. And God called the light Day and 
the darkness he called Night." Now there was no sun 
or moon or stars to govern the day and the night, until 
the beginning of the fifth day, and it seems to me un- 
reasonable to say that those periods or those days con- 
sisted of twenty-four hours each while there was no 
sun to govern the day. Yet I believe with all my heart 
that we are the offspring of Adam. I believe the story 
of the Garden of Eden to be fact and nothing but fact. 
Some might consider me an infidel, but I deny the 
charge. I believe that true science and God's Word 
go hand in hand. 


The mining wealth in Arizona is very great, as is 
shown by the enormous output of ore. The geography 
of Arizona is responsible for the statement that the 
Bisbee mines have an output of $3,000,000 per month ; 
that the Jerome or the United Verde mine, which was 
owned by the late Senator Clark, has an output of $1,- 
000,000, a month and since that statement was made 
other producing mines have been developing at a won- 
derful rate. Jerome is situated about twenty-five miles 
above Camp Verde, and all along, the Black Hill Range 
on the west side of the Verde River is highly mineral- 

One day my wife was standing in the front yard 
looking up at the hills and said, " Oh, my, if I were 
just a man !" 

I said, " What would you do ?" 

She said, " I would hunt a mine up in those hills." 

I had tried to keep out of the mining game, but it was 
so tempting, with mineral ledges close by waiting for 
somebody to locate and develop them. Now about 5fo 
of all the prospectors are successful. In 1901 I got 
interested in a claim in Squaw Peak District, Black 
Hill Range. Squaw Peak is the exact geographical 
center of the state of Arizona. 



A mining company had been organized by some 
Brethren and I deeded to them my interest in the claims 
for a one-fourth interest in the company. Then, for 
the company, I located a group of mines. Some of 
them looked very promising and it seemed that with the 
proper development there a mine could be made. To 
develop a mine successfully it takes money and brains. 
This company was named Inglenook. I was sent East 
at one time to interest people in the mine, in order that 
we might raise money. In selling the stock, I sold 
only $5 worth, and that was to a man in Peculiar, Mo. 
But I did interest one person who took an interest in 
the company. Soon after I came home from the East 
I found that what money had been raised had been 
used in developing a road instead of a mine. I was very 
much dissatisfied with the way my partners were work- 
ing the property, and I soon discovered they had no 
use for me and I had less for them. Those who held 
stock may have seen my name still used on the certifi- 
cates, without my knowledge, and I may have been 
censured for being connected or helping to dispose of 
stock in the company. When I found the foregoing 
condition I walked down and out. What profit I ever 
got from the company was principally from the ones 
who were responsible for putting the company in its 
unfortunate condition. I met, not long ago in La 
Verne, one poor old sister who is now a widow, whose 


husband had invested in the Inglenook mine, and had 
supposed at the time that I was still connected with it. 
I still believe that if the money had been judiciously 
handled, and part of it used to hire some mining en- 
gineer's brains, in which I will admit the company, in- 
cluding myself, was very much lacking, there might 
have been developed a wonderful producing mine. As 
it is, I suppose the Inglebrook mine has gone out of 
existence, and all the mining claims, about twenty, have 
reverted to the government. All who invested in the 
mine doubtless lost their money. 

Probably some of these promoters may be excepted. 
I have refrained from mentioning the names of any 
persons connected with the company except my own. 
One has gone to his long home; two more I cannot 
account for, and it is not my desire to cast any more 
reflection on the promoters than is necessary. I believe 
that in the beginning their intentions were good. I 
hope that my explanation will be satisfactory to all con- 

While I was interested in the mining company I was 
not on the payroll of the Mission Board, but still was 
doing some preaching. 

I had, while on the mission, the agency of the Ameri- 
can Woolen Mills for selling tailor-made clothing. I 
would visit the mining camps, take orders for suits and 
make appointments for preaching at night. But I 


never used my religion or the church as an advertise- 
ment to do business. After I got a man's order for a 
suit, and had measured him, I told him where I was 
going to preach that night and then asked him to come 
to church. I never thought it right to use my religion 
to further my business transactions. I did this by be- 
ing honest and upright in my dealings with my fellow- 

I have always been in favor of the religious debate. 
I think it is the best way to get the truth before the 
public. It shows the difference between truth and 
error. I am sorry that it has become so unpopular. I 
have held a number of debates at different places. One 
I had at Camp Verde, with Dr. Ketcherside, who was 
a Campbellite preacher and a good friend of mine, too, 
a very honorable and intelligent man. I have promised 
in my introduction to say little about the results of my 
life's work, but I will state this: I never held a dis- 
cussion at any time but that the general public, when 
we had concluded, was on my side of the question. 
One time in the debate Mr. Ketcherside took the posi- 
tion that the Brethren had no baptism at all, from the 
fact that their candidate went into the water on his own 
accord and then knelt down until two-thirds of his 
body was under the water, and that we baptized only 
the remaining third, which he claimed was no baptism 
at all. I replied that he took his candidate, or rather 


that his candidate of his own will went into the water, 
until he was halfway immersed, and then he baptized 
the remaining half once by backward immersion. 
Hence, I said, " you have half a baptism. But admit- 
ting that our candidate kneels in the water until he is 
two-thirds immersed, it is a fact that we immerse the 
other third three times; three times one-third is three 
thirds, and three-thirds make a whole. So we have a 
whole baptism and you have half of one." When we 
started this debate, to show to the crowd that we were 
friends, we shook hands and at the close of the debate, 
to indicate that we were still friends, we shook hands 
again. In holding debates, if any unkind words had 
been spoken, and anyone got angry, I always managed 
to let it be the other fellow. 

Wayside Barroom 

One winter, while living on the Verde River, we 
thought we would come down to Glendale to spend 
part of the winter and be among our friends once more. 
After we had started and had been gone probably an 
hour, some one sent for me to preach the funeral of 
Mr. Horn. Mr. Horn had kept the wayside sa- 
loon that I have already mentioned. He was not only 
a bartender but he belonged to the Catholic Church. 
That is one time I was glad that I was not at home 
when a funeral was to be preached. 

We had one span of mules and a wagon, one team of 
horses and a spring wagon. We stayed with some 
friends on Ash Creek the first night, about halfway to 
Prescott. That night there came a snowstorm. The 
next day our teams being rough shod picked up the 
snow in their shoes and made traveling very slow. 
Later in the afternoon as we were climbing to a higher 
altitude it began to freeze, and the higher we got the 
colder it was, until it seemed almost impossible to reach 
Prescott that night. Nine P. M. found us four miles 
from Prescott, near a wayside saloon, with no houses 
in sight excepting the saloon. The thermometer must 
have been away below zero. Besides wife and me there 



were five of our younger children, and all were cold 
and chilled through and through. We stopped at the 
saloon, warmed up in the barroom and the fire actually 
felt good. The bartender turned over his kitchen, 
which was a separate building, for wife to cook our 
suppers. While she was getting supper, I stayed with 
the children in the barroom. We threw our beds down 
on the kitchen floor and slept there that night. We 
also had our teams well cared for, and when we paid 
our bill the next morning, the man was very reasonable. 
While we were there he did not offer any of us a drink 
or a cigar. 

I have fought saloons and been practically an ab- 
stainer all my life, but I believe in giving the devil his 
just dues. If it had not been for that saloon and that 
bartender, some of us might have frozen to death that 

When it comes to what might be called charity, even 
church people go to the saloonkeepers and the tinhorn 
gamblers for donations, and they generally get what 
they go after. Usually these folks are more liberal 
than some of the church members. (We want here 
to except the Church of the Brethren.) There is some 
reason for the foregoing statement. First, it is the 
good-hearted boys who are liberal, who find it hard to 
say "No," that go in or are enticed by that kind of 
business. Second, they can afford it, for they general- 


ly have plenty of money, and, having taken money 
from the people, they may feel under obligations to be 

I have seen so many big-hearted men in the West, 
and especially some of the cowboys, that I have been 
moved to say to them, " I am glad that I am not to be 
your judge in the last day, for I do not consider you 
good enough for heaven and I feel you are too good 
for hell : therefore, if I were to be your judge I would 
not know where to put you." 


To Northern California 

In the winter of 1905-6, an extremely rainy winter 
for the Verde Valley, I took a deep cold and bronchitis, 
which I contracted back in the Ozarks when I was 
hauling ties, returned with severity. It seemed that 
every time I had it it was worse than before. We had 
always supposed that it was nothing more than bron- 
chitis, yet at times we almost felt that it was a worse 

So in the spring of 1906, because of my health, we 
moved to Butte County, Calif., close to Bangor. On 
our way to Bangor we stopped for a little while in 
Imperial Valley, Calif., where I did some preaching. 
While I was there I recruited in health a great deal, 
probably from getting out of the damp weather into a 
dry atmosphere. 

Bangor is situated in the foothills of the Sierra 
Nevada Mountains. Originally the region was all tim- 
ber, but it was cut over in an early day. About one- 
tenth of the land could be cultivated. All kinds of 
fruit could be raised. We found a small congregation 
of believers of like precious faith, with two ministers, 
Bro. Benson Myers and Bro. M. Andrews. While there 
Bro. Andrews was ordained to the full ministry by 
Bro. Crist Holsinger and myself. Bro. Myers was ad- 



vanced to the second degree of the ministry. Bro. A. 
J. Peebler and wife, who were holding the fort in 
Chico, about thirty miles from Bangor, still kept their 
membership in the church at Bangor, which was known 
as the Fruitdale church. Later Chico was organized 
into a separate body. 

Bro. Crist Holsinger and myself had been authorized 
by the elders of the District to go down to Princeton, 
on the Sacramento River, forty miles west, where a 
band of believers had recently settled, to organize them 
into a separate congregation. But Bro. Crist had held 
a series of meetings in the Fruitdale church. After get- 
ting through, and feeling indisposed, he appointed Bro. 
Andrews to take his place, and he returned home to 
Laton, Calif. Bro. Andrews and myself went to 
Princeton and effected the organization. I was elected 
their elder and had oversight of the church as long as I 
lived in that part of the state. 

During our sojourn in Northern California, Cali- 
fornia was divided into two Districts, Northern and 
Southern California. This was done at a District 
Meeting held in the Oak Grove church, near Laton. 

The first District Meeting of Northern California 
was held in Reedley. I was chosen moderator of the 
meeting. The next year the District Meeting was held 
in the Fruitdale church, near Bangor. Bro. Harvey 
Ikenberry moderated and I was elected to serve on the 
Standing Committee, with Bro. Ikenberry as alternate. 


To Imperial Valley 

During the winter of 1907-8 it rained almost con- 
tinually and I caught another severe cold, which settled 
on my lungs, and my old complaint developed twofold, 
until it seemed that I was in a dangerous condition. 
Bro. Willie of Holtville, Imperial County, Calif., wrote 
me to come down to his place, where it was warm and 
dry. Soon after I reached there my cold loosened, but 
I was left in a very weak condition. A little later my 
daughter Maggie and husband and little Orpha took 
me to a hospital in El Centro, to have my lungs tested 
for tuberculosis. The doctor put my sputum in an in- 
cubator, and in twenty-four hours I was to return and 
learn what he thought was the matter with me. When 
I came back the next day, the verdict was " T. B." I 
said, " Doctor, I certainly must have developed T. B. 

However, by the quantity of germs which he found, 
he said I must have contracted it a good many years 
before. Now in the place of improving I seemed to be 
getting worse and worse, until Bro. Willie, unknown to 
me, sent for my wife. He did not let me know any- 
thing about this until she was in Holtville, eight miles 
away, and then he came and said, " Charley, what do 
you think about sending for Rachel ?" 



I said, " No. In our financial condition we cannot 
afford it. We are in debt, down and out, and have no 

A few minutes afterwards he came to my room and 
said, " Charley, I have already sent for her," and pres- 
ently he came again and said, " She is on the road," 
and again he came in and told me, " She is now in 
Holtville." When she came (it was after dark) I was 
so low that it was quite awhile before they dared to let 
her see me. 

Some days later they summoned the children, who 
were still at home, to come down if they wanted to see 
me alive. This was also unknown to me. We were al- 
ready owing a store bill of over one hundred dollars 
to Allen Brothers, Bangor merchants. These same 
brothers loaned the money to my children, in addition 
to what we already owed them, to permit them to come 
to Holtville to see their father. 

I continued to grow worse. At one time they did not 
think I could live twenty-four hours. Bro. Peter 
Forney of Glendale, Ariz., visited me, and while there 
Bro. Willie Piatt, who had charge of the mission at El 
Centra, came over. Bro. Peter and Bro. Piatt anointed 
me. I told them, " Brethren, don't pray for me to get 
well unless it is the Lord's will. I would rather die 
than to live, unless the Lord has something for me still 
to do." 


Well, I commenced to get better. I had notified the 
treasurer of the District of Northern California, and 
also Bro. Harvey Ikenberry, my alternate to the An- 
nual Meeting, that it would be impossible for me to 
represent on the Standing Committee, and he would 
have to take my place. But I was improving remarka- 
bly fast. 

The next fall a good brother paid the fare for my-, 
self and wife to attend the District Meeting of North- 
ern California, which was held in the Oak Grove 
church, near Laton. While I was there the members 
told me that all the time during my critical illness the 
whole District was praying for my recovery. It does 
seem that when we comply with the Scripture — the 
anointing — when the one anointed and those officiating 
are in harmony with each other and with the great God 
of the universe, and a whole church District likewise 
is in harmony, pleading for the one thing, namely the 
recovery of the one anointed, it is almost impossible for 
one to die. 

I now weigh twenty-five pounds more than I did 
before I had the T. B. I have ever since sympathized 
with those who are afflicted as I was. If I had the 
funds, or enough influence over some one who has 
funds, I should certainly start a T. B. sanatorium. (I 
know of some wonderfully good places for such insti- 
tutions.) I have seen so many tubercular patients who 


came out West, ran short of funds, and had so little 
care that it was impossible for them to recover, and 
some of them died without friends or money. Now, 
what I would like would be a sanatorium conducted on 
what I would call a gospel plan, letting those pay who 
are able to, or rather charge them according to their 
financial ability ; those having no funds to receive as 
good attention as those who have. I would also have 
some good, loyal brother for superintendent. I should 
want to give the patients the following recipe; viz., 
" Get in harmony with nature and nature's God," which 
I believe would be the first principle of a cure. Any- 
way, if it did not cure them and they passed over to 
the other side, they would still be in a safe condition 
and probably better off than if they had recovered. 

This probably would not be a money-making propo- 
sition. It does seem very hard, though, for many of 
our people to invest a dollar unless they expect to pick 
up two dollars in its place. But I would like to leave 
this impression on the minds of all our readers, that 
there is something in this life worth working for, above 
dollars and cents. 

I have always taught in my ministerial career that 
our helping to save somebody else was a part of the 
conditions of our own salvation. Of all the miracles in 
the New Testament, these two appeal to my own mind 
the most prominently ; viz., the two where once Christ 


fed the multitudes, broke the bread, blessed it, and 
passed it on. In turn they broke to one another, and 
when they were through the fragments gathered up 
were more than they had commenced with. When we 
break the Bread of Life to our fellow-man, or rather 
pass out our religion to the other fellow, we have more 
religion remaining than when we gave it out. The more 
blessings we give, the more we receive. 

While we were in Imperial Valley the church at El 
Centro was organized, with W. M. Piatt as elder. The 
church then consisted of members in the Holtville Dis- 
trict, about twenty miles from El Centro. Later the 
church was organized in the Holtville District and I 
had charge of the same. Bro. Quinter Calvert after- 
wards moved into our midst and assisted in the work 
about two years. 


Back to Arizona 

In the spring of 1915 we moved to Benson, Cochise 
County, Ariz. I did some preaching, but never could 
rally enough members to effect an organization. We 
also held meetings at Elgin, Santa Cruz County, where 
there were a few members. 

After we had got into war with Germany my 
troubles there began. First, I was called on to make a 
speech at a big war rally. I had to inform the com- 
mittee that called on me that we, as a church, were op- 
posed to war in any way, shape or form, and that, if I 
should make a speech on that occasion, it would proba- 
bly bring the wrath of the community upon me. So 
my presence was not needed, much less my speech. 

During the war I was in Camp Cody, looking after 
the interests of some of our brethren. There I found 
a certain preacher, with whom I was well acquainted, 
preaching in the camp. The judge advocate had him 
take me to the officer's headquarters, feed me and give 
me a place to sleep as long as I wanted to stay. He 
treated me very courteously, but I will have something 
more about this preacher later. 

The banker in Benson, and others, insisted that I 
should buy bonds, and when it came to a show down 



I simply had to tell them, " No, I might just as well 
fight, myself, as to furnish money to carry on the war 
for some one else to do the fighting for me." Of 
course I raised the indignation of my fellow-citizens. 
On the start they were my friends, and seemed to be as 
much opposed to the war as I was, but when they 
found it might hurt their business, they changed their 
minds, and in place of being my friends they became 
my foes. Anonymous letters were written to me. I 
was bawled out in public speeches, and in fact they 
dealt to me as much misery as seemed possible, with 
the exception of using the rope. The government sent 
a man to see me and to ask me whether reports made 
to the government were correct or not. The first thing 
he asked me was, " Have you been to Camp Cody 

I told him, " Yes." 

" What was your business ?" I told him. Then he 
asked me, " Did you ever buy or take flour from a cer- 
tain store without buying a substitute ?" 

I told him " Yes," and gave him the reason I 
bought it and whom it was for. 

A family consisting of a man and wife and several 
children were camping close to us, and the man was 
an invalid. They had nothing to eat in their camp but 
beans. My daughter Flora and I went over to Benson, 
took up a " pony purse," went to the store and bought 


substitutes, but not all. I thought it was necessary that 
that family have some flour, and when I did not have 
enough money to pay for flour and substitutes, I asked 
them where the flour was, and I threw down the price 
of the flour and helped myself. I said to the officer, 

" Sir, whoever reported this to you knows where 
that flour went and its purpose. They know I have an 
order from the food administrator of Arizona, author- 
izing the merchants to sell me my pro rata of flour, for 
I own a cornmeal mill and make my own substitutes." 

Second, he asked, " Did you ever say this was a 
money war?" I told him "Yes." He asked then, 
" Have you changed your mind ?" and I told him, " I 
have no reason to change !" 

He next asked me, " Have you refused to preach 
under the U. S. flag?" 

I told him, " No, and the people of Benson have 
heard me preach under the flag time and again. That 
flag is my flag and I am an American first and last. I 
belong to a church which has been on record for 200 
years or more, whose principles, according to the Bible, 
are opposed to the taking of the life of a fellow-man. 
I have always preached peace in time of peace and I 
am still preaching peace in time of war." 

The officer then treated me like a gentleman. He 
shook hands with me and bade me good-bye. 

The next day or two I went into the bank to transact 


some business, and Mr. Smith, the cashier of the bank, 
ordered me out of the place. I said, 

" Sir, I came in here to get a settlement, and when I 
have a settlement I will certainly leave your bank and 
not until then, and I will never darken your door 

He then told me, 

" You're a pro-German and you've been down to 
Camp Cody trying to get the soldiers to quit the army 
and go back to their farms and other businesses." 

I said, " Smith, whoever told you that told you a 

But he said, " Parson so-and-so told me and he did 
not lie." 

I said, " Smith, I don't believe he ever told you." 

But I found out afterwards that he actually did. 
Later he came down to Glendale and told Bro. Ronk, 
the Brethren pastor at Glendale, the same thing. But 
Smith kept on abusing me. Finally I squared up to 
him and said, 

" I am a better American than you ever were. You 
are a gentleman every inch above your head, and one 
of three things I want you to do. Either raise a mob 
and hang me by the neck until I am dead, or have me 
prosecuted according to law, or keep your old mouth 
shut. Which will you do?" 

He said " Neither," and for once he kept his word. 


Now, some may think that I should apologize to 
Smith for disputing his word about what the preacher 
had told, but after the abuse he gave me I don't feel 
that I need to give him any apology. 

I never thought I was a coward, but we began to 
think the best place to live during the awful war would 
be in a congregation of Brethren. So we came back 
to Glendale, where the Brethren during that awful con- 
flict were treated with profound respect. 


Our Trip East 

In the spring of 1924 wife and myself went to Cali- 
fornia to see the children. We were over the line into 
Mexico, home again, rested for a few days, and on 
May 8, 1924, with our granddaughter, Orpha Statler, 
started for the Annual Meeting at Hershey, Pa. On 
our route we stopped at Friend, Kans., and visited 
wife's brother, Floyd Kuns, who later passed away. 
From there we went to Crestline, Kans., where we vis- 
ited with her sister, Flora Hutchison, and her children, 
whom we had not seen for thirty-eight years. Our 
next stop was at Waynesville, Mo., in the Ozark 
Mountains, where we had labored thirty years previ- 
ously. The church had been disorganized and the meet- 
inghouse torn down. We found a good many old 
neighbors and friends, who gave us a royal welcome. 
At the old schoolhouse, close to where the church had 
stood, an appointment was made for me to preach at 
3 P. M., the other time being taken by other people. 
We had a splendid crowd. The house and yard were 
full of people; not only the country folks, but people 
from Waynesville, including one lawyer and the 
Methodist preacher. The lawyer shook hands with me 
and left a ten-dollar bill in my hand. The preacher in- 



sisted that I should fill his pulpit in Waynesville that 
night, which I did. From there we crossed the river 
at St. Louis, Mo. ; on to Ada, Ohio, where we visited 
friends by the name of Long; also filled the appoint- 
ment for Bro. Guthrie at the County Line church. 

We had only one accident on the road. About ten 
miles east of Pittsburgh we bumped into another ma- 
chine, hurt my wife, damaged my car, and injured a 
little boy who was riding in the other machine. 

After having my wife patched up and the machine re- 
paired, we went on to Hershey, minus forty dollars. We 
attended the Annual Meeting, and went to Gettysburg. 
There I met Bro. Lightner, who showed us over the 
battlefield and had me fill the pulpit on Sunday. We 
returned to Hershey, went to Atlantic City, N. J., and 
followed the coast to New York. From there we 
crossed to Niagara Falls, then over to the Canadian 
side, followed the river up the Canadian side to Buffa- 
lo, where we crossed over in a ferryboat; thence to 
Cleveland, then to Kirtland, Ohio, where we viewed 
the old and first Mormon Temple. Then we proceeded 
to Mt. Vernon, Ohio, where Orpha visited a cousin; 
then back to Ada, Ohio, thence on to Pioneer, Ohio, 
where we found some cousins on my father's side, 
whom I hadn't seen since I was three years old and 
had not heard of for forty-seven years. We had a 
royal welcome. In this place was a congregation of 


Brethren some of whom when they found out that a 
Dunkard preacher was visiting Bill Gillett, my cousin, 
called on me and I was invited to fill their pulpit on 
Sunday, which I did to the best of my ability. 

From Pioneer we went to Schoolcraft, Mich., the 
place where I was born, and where I lived until I was 
11 years old. We visited some of my cousins whom I 
hadn't even heard of for a long time, and called on a 
few of my old schoolmates. We found four of them 
living, and two of them have since passed away. From 
Schoolcraft we journeyed to Monon, Ind., where wife 
had an aunt still living, who was then 79 years old. 
After visiting her we went to Climbers Station, where 
my wife lived until she was 14 years old. She found 
quite a lot of her old schoolmates. Also we visited 
David Flora and visited at the grave of my wife's 
Grandmother Kuns. From there we went back to 
Monon and then on to Keokuk, Iowa. We had stopped 
at Carthage, 111., long enough to look at the old jail 
where Joseph and Hiram Smith were assassinated. At 
Keokuk Orpha visited another cousin. From there we 
proceeded to Henry County, Mo., where I had finished 
growing up, and where I had attended school and first 
met that black-eyed girl whom I have already men- 
tioned in the forepart of this book. Pretty nearly all 
the old folks had passed over, but a good many of the 
younger ones of our age, and younger still, remem- 


bered me, and gave us a wonderful time. They ap- 
pointed a meeting for us and had us preach two times. 
We visited the old graveyard where wife's and my par- 
ents and sisters are buried. We found the tombstones 
fallen over and in bad shape. In adjusting one of the 
heavy sandstone bases of father's tombstone, it was 
necessary to use something to pry it out of the ground. 
I went to my car and got a piece of rail which I had 
brought from Michigan, which my father had split be- 
fore the war of the rebellion. I took that piece and 
used it to pry up the base. While there we had to see 
to the moving of the remains of Mother Kuns, who 
was buried on the wrong lot a long time after we had 
left there. We reburied her by the side of Father 
Kuns. We went to Clinton and ordered a tombstone 
for each of them. From Henry County we returned 
to Crestline, Kans., and visited wife's sister again. 
From there we went to Garden City, where Bro. 
Floyd's widowed wife lived, Bro. Floyd having passed 
since we were there. Our next stop was at Wawaka, 
Tex., where lived some of the Stumps with whom we 
had been closely associated back in the Ozark Moun- 
tains of Missouri. We preached three or four times 
and from there went back home, having been gone 
from home four months and been in eighteen states 
and three nations. 

Some of my readers may think that we were pretty 


well fixed, financially, in order to take such a trip, but 
the fact is that one son had made us a present of a new 
Ford car, and with the balance helping we were fur- 
nished expenses for the trip. Financially, I am like the 
negro since I came to Arizona. The negro said he had 
held his own, for he started with nothing and hadn't 
got anything yet. 

In the spring of 1925, having corresponded with the 
Brethren at Wawaka, Tex., it was agreed that wife 
and I should go over there and spend the summer, 
helping in the church work, as they had no minister in 
their midst nor close to them. I was to receive my 
actual expenses from the time I left home until I got 
back. On our way over on the White Pine Mountain 
I became suddenly very ill with pains in my stomach, 
until traveling was burdensome and we were longer on 
the way than I expected. We stopped at Clovis, N. 
M., with Bro. Fager and I was very ill while there. I 
was anointed by Brethren Smith and Fager. Bro. 
Fager drove the car for me over to Wawaka and came 
back on the train. When I got to Bro. D. B. Stump's 
I was more alive than dead, but a very sick man. Bro. 
Stump sent for a physician. When he had examined 
me he said I had a cancer of the stomach, and told 
my wife to take me home ; that I would never be able to 
preach another sermon. But in a short time I was able 
to preach, and if I had a cancer there was a miracle 


performed, because I got well. I preached every Sun- 
day two or three times and during that time conducted 
three series of meetings, one at Huntoon, one at Wa- 
waka and one at Griggs, Okla., where lived the Bur- 
rows with whom we had been associated back in the 
Ozarks. After the summer's work and the cold 
weather had set in we went back home to Glendale. 
By urgent request we returned to Wawaka the next 
spring. But this time it was wife's turn to get sick. 
She took very ill Aug. 2 with what might be termed 
nervous prostration. The work at Wawaka was too 
straining on her nerves. The membership was scat- 
tered over a radius of thirty-five miles, and to travel 
around seeing the members, holding Bible classes, and 
helping in Vacation Bible School proved too much for 

When our children heard that mother was sick, three 
of them, with their companions, came to see us, and 
took mother on the train. I followed with the rest in 
our cars and arrived home a few days later. Mother, no 
worse for the trip, had commenced to get better. 

Now the Brethren at Wawaka made good their part 
of the contract and some besides. Oh, how I did hate 
to leave them, and especially under the conditions. Bro. 
C. H. Brown is with them now, and I understand is 
doing a good work. 


The Golden Wedding Day 

(View of a Friend — Eld. Walter Swihart) 

A half century is a goodly span for any two to be 
associated in any affair, but for two to be united in 
the bond of holy matrimony with never a difference to 
mar or jar its sanctity, is very unusual. The union of 
Bro. Charley and Sister Rachel, so unostentatiously 
entered into fifty years ago, is still unmarred and un- 
broken. In looking over our brother's Memoirs you will 
readily observe that the voyage, however, has been par- 
ticularly easy, flowery, placid, or salubrious; but, on 
the contrary, has had many ups and downs. It has 
been fraught with many changes. Sickness, poverty, 
trials, oppositions, and misrepresentations on the one 
side; and spirituality, power, prowess, fidelity, affa- 
bility, and faith on the other were so mixed and blended 
in their journey that their rounded-out-age is a real 
triumph. It seems fitting that the two should now, in 
the quiet of old age, have the pleasure of sitting peace- 
fully in each other's embrace while the vesper chimes 
ring out the fading day. 

On July 25, 1927, they enjoyed their Golden Wed- 
ding Anniversary. Their ten children, with their com- 
panions and families, assembled with them to make it 



a happy event. Fifty-six descendants marked the steps 
made from the like date of 1877. Many other rela- 
tives, besides friends and acquaintances, met with them 
at their Glendale home. The two, wearing the marks 
of long and keen struggles, sat in their easy chairs 
under the shadow of their own " vine and fig tree," 
happy in the affluence of love tendered them by their 
own and others. True, they were depressed by the 
weight of days, yet the fire of the past still glowed in 
their well-preserved tabernacles of clay. 

In keeping with Job 1 : 5, Bro. D. D. Thomas made a 
sincere appeal to the God of the universe for guidance 
and direction throughout the day's varied features. 

A program, rendered by the various members of the 
immediate family — songs, readings, poems, talks, and 
musical numbers — with hearty good cheer was fitting- 
ly suggestive of the diversity of talent transmitted to 
the future. At noon the tables, groaning with lavish 
richness and a superabundance of good things, amply 
satisfied every comer, whatever his station or age. If 
any went away with his wants unsatisfied, I cannot 
conceive of a means of accomplishing it. It must be 
especially cited that Willie Beaty — an old range cook, 
who has asserted from forty years' experience his abili- 
ty to bring out the acme of flavor — demonstrated to a 
finish his art in a wonderful " pot roast." 

Friends remembered the two with many tokens of 


respect. Among the gifts made was $200 in gold 

As the day closed a blessing was expressed, extolling 
the patriarchal joys of a gray-haired father and mother 
surrounded by a numerous family. It was not that 
they had evaded their duties; not that they had side- 
tracked the cares and worries of child-rearing; but 
that they had nobly shouldered the responsibilities of 
fostering a halfscore of children who are able-bodied, 
courageous, progressive, law-abiding citizens, and who 
attest the thought fulness of this statement by their 
abiding love and confidence in the boy and girl who 
dared to set this mighty force in action. 

The Golden Wedding Anniversary 

View by Two of the Daughters, Addie and Rachel 

The day had long been planned ; with great antici- 
pation each regarded it. The entire family, including 
uncles, aunts, and cousins on " both sides of the house," 
and numberless friends, had been looking forward to it 
with much joy for years. Even the youngest grand- 
child knew of it and wished for the day to come. Busi- 
ness obligations and all other duties that detain people 
at home had been arranged, so that nothing would mar 
the celebration of father and mother's Golden Wedding 
Anniversary on July 25, 1927. For years father had 
been inviting people to attend. Often in his sermons 
he would speak of the great pleasure he expected on 
this occasion — his fiftieth wedding anniversary and 
family reunion. After requesting the audience to be 
present, an analogy was then made to the grand re- 
union in heaven, to which Christ had asked " Whoso- 
ever will " to come and enjoy the marriage feast ; 
where there will be no partings, nor death, and God 
will wipe away all tears. 

" This," he added, " is infinitely more worthy of 
efforts to attend than any earthly gathering." 

Thus friends from the Pacific to the Atlantic had 



been invited to join him on his golden wedding day. 
This was the way father did everything; when he had 
a pleasure or a blessing he got the most out of it only 
when he shared it with all of his friends. Of course, 
many from the far distance could not come, but they 
sent word by letters and telegrams by the score that 
they were with the celebrants in spirit. Even Governor 
G. W. P. Hunt sent his regrets. 

As time rolled by and the 25th was close at hand, it 
found father in such ill health that all hoped and 
prayed God would see fit to spare him for " that day," 
at least. The inspiration he got by helping plan for it 
was one great factor in reviving his desire to live, giv- 
ing him a new lease on life. 

According to plans, the reunion was held in Glen- 
dale, Ariz. It was a hot month, but Providence blessed 
the occasion with a light rain on the 24th, and on the 
25th a cool breeze blew most all day. The four daugh- 
ters and one son, who resided in Glendale vicinity, with 
their families, made arrangements for shade, cool 
drinking water, and seats for the guests. The menu 
was planned, the pies and ice cream being ordered from 
Phoenix, to cause as little work and confusion as pos- 
sible, but still give a satisfied feeling. 

On the 24th folks commenced to arrive by auto — 
there were four sons and one daughter and other rela- 
tives coming from California. Then it began to get 


exciting. Dad stationed himself at the telephone to 
keep the " near-bys " informed. First, it was " The 
sheriff and his wife are here." Later came " Bertha, 
sister, and some others." Then " Mercy ! Mercy ! I 
just can't keep track any longer; come see for your- 
selves!" Of the thirty living grandchildren, three did 
not come; the one great-grandchild, to the disappoint- 
ment of all, was not present ; also one granddaughter- 
in-law and one grandson-in-law ; otherwise the circle 
was complete. Father's only brother, W. F. Gillett, 
and wife, came from California. Mother's sister, Mol- 
lie Coffelt, and family, a brother, G. W. Kuns, and a 
nephew, Wallace Harbstreet, were there. The latter 
came from Kansas City. 

The morning of the 25th was filled with last-minute 
preparations, mixed with family jokes and stories. By 
10 o'clock the friends were gathering. They were 
seated under an improvised arbor on the lawn, facing 
the front of the house, where, under a rose-covered 
pergola, sat the bride and groom of fifty years. Though 
aged by time they were lovers still. No groom was 
ever more attentive to his bride! As they sat thus, 
facing the audience, they saw their ten children en- 
semble fnr thg second time! What floods of recollec- 
tions must have crowded their memories that day ! 

The oldest son, George Franklin, was chosen master 
of ceremonies. The morning exercises started with 


father leading in, " There's a land that is fairer than 
day." Then prayer, led by Eld. D. D. Thomas. George 
then introduced the man full of years and honor, his 
father. He stood, looked at each, and smilingly said, 
" You're as welcome as the flowers in May, and we 
love you in the same old way." His speech was short, 
and in conclusion he reminded them of the heavenly 
reunion and hoped that all would meet again, " Over 
there." Then he introduced his lifelong companion 
with an incident of their school days, in which he had 
won a chromo as a prize for good attendance, knowing 
that a little black-eyed girl would have won it, had she 
not stayed at home to care for a sick mother. He told 
his teacher he thought Rachel deserved the card more 
than he did. It must be remembered that in those days 
picture cards were scarce, hence more appreciated than 
now. The teacher approved, and " Rachel Kuns " was 
written under his name on the back of the card. " But," 
he added, with a merry twinkle in his eye, " I later won 
the girl, and got the card, too! She will now say a 
few words." 

Mother's speech, too, was short. She praised her 
children as only a mother can, forgetting the pain, the 
toil, the midnight oil, the worry ; remembering only the 
joy, concluding her remarks with, " No matter what 
they say, children do pay for themselves, and are worth 
more than double their cost." 


W. F. Gillett, father's brother, made a short talk. 
Then all the ten children, now fathers and mothers, 
with their own families, were summoned chronological- 
ly to the front and introduced to the crowd. 

This was an amusing affair, as George made com- 
ments both true and otherwise. Each was glad when 
it was the other's turn to come. 

The noon hour arrived only too soon. There was an 
intermission for lunch. The people were invited to 
pass through the rear of the house and help themselves 
to the eats, which were served cafeteria style. 

After dinner pictures were taken of relatives and 
the immediate family. Then the program was resumed ; 
fitting songs and readings were given by children and 
grandchildren. At the close of the program father 
called to the attention of the audience, the grand re- 
union " Over there," hoping that all would be present. 
The Lord's prayer was prayed by all. A period of 
visiting and real old-time family reunion followed. 
They gathered in groups and the groups were ever 
changing. Some were telling old tales; others were 
relating new ; snapshots were being taken of various 
ones; the younger ones were playing games. Time 
flew ! Darkness began to fall. The day was ending all 
too soon. None came prepared to stay for any length 
of time, and now the circle was being broken ; by first 
one, then another departing, each returning to his own 


home. The aged bridal couple left shortly, accom- 
panied by the groom's brother and wife, for a trip to 
Grand Canyon. When all had gone the old home was 
so desolate ! but each carried away a memory like unto 
a heavenly vision of a most perfect day. 

Reunion Day 

Just now I seem to remember 

Of times both past and blest, 
When I was home with mother 

With dad and all the rest. 
How much they worked for us 

They will never, never say ; 
It took them both to keep fires bright 

And scare the wolf away. 

Their home was blest with children, 

And each received a family seat. 
Oh, no, not one too many, 

I've heard them oft repeat. 
Their hearth was freely given 

To other children left alone, 
And warmth and food and shelter 

Were divided in our home. 

A picture of each brother, sister 

Comes plainly to my mind 
As I sit and ponder over 

The life that's left behind. 
From the oldest to the youngest 

They have all had their place, 
And now we're glad once more 

To look each other in the face. 

The first that I remember, 

My brother George's fate, 
Mother was leaning on his arm 



Walking through a gate. 
He was a soldier boy, 

Who sought to win his fame 
By fighting for his country 

In the Spanish war by name. 
Of all the rest the family 

He was the last for me to know, 
But he gave of his dear self 

That I to school might go. 

Now " High-law " Charley 

Is next to come in view, 
He was to manhood grown 

When dolls were all I knew. 
I remember on his wedding day 

I thought him big and grand, 
And his wife, the fairest lady 

That e'er graced the Verde Land. 
Then later with their children 

I used to play with Joy, 
For Oma was my baby 

And Harold was my boy. 

I have a second mother 

Who is to me most dear; 
She is my sister Maggie, 

The best the world could rear. 
She used to teach me by the hour 

The words I ought to say, 
And give me cake and pie for dolly. 

And never say me nay. 
She, too, now is older, 

But a second mother still, 
And I love her, loved her always 

And I always, always will. 


With Roy two years I went to school. 

He'd comb my hair and wash my face, 
And said the color of my hair 

Was like taffy he pulled with Grace. 
When my hair he was combing, 

And he saw no one was near, 
He'd lean over quickly 

And whisper in my ear : 
" Make it known all over school 

This work that I can do, 
Then the girls will smile on me 

Ethel, Edna, Bess, and Sue." 

When Ola was a lad at home 

His never-ceasing fun 
Was tugging at his sleds 

Or riding horses on the run. 
On the grass once he was thrown 

To the rest the sight was rare, 
For he moaned and cried aloud, 

" The horse, he did not do it fair." 
Then when in his early teens 

He tried with girls to go, 
Until he stopped playing with his sleds, 

Mother said, " No, my son, no, no." 

I think it very fitting 

To pause a moment here 
In memory of the little one 

Who was to us so dear. 
Although she lived but two short years, 

I know 'twas not in vain, 
For all are drawn to a higher sphere 

Whene'er we hear her name. 


A carefree child was Flora, 

And always had her fun ; 
She used to think of pranks to play 

And tried them out on anyone. 
When any of our neighbors 

I used to go to see, 
I wanted her to go along 

To talk to them for me. 
In the suit case of a stranger 

She dared one time to peep ; 
She tasted of a bottle there 

That made her laugh and weep. 
The way she acted was so funny 

Mother thought that she was ill, 
But Flora knew the reason 

And kept very, very still. 

With Floyd I used to romp the hills 

And go wading in the brook. 
The birds, the bees, and flowers 

We found in every nook. 
But such a restless wiggling fellow 

He always was in school, 
I never felt exactly safe 

Lest he should break some rule. 
But when from out the library 

A book he would take, 
I could safely settle down 

For he would then no trouble make. 

With Addie, too, we used to play, 
It was then our great delight 

To play hide and seek 
In the dark without a light. 


"Right up there, O brother Floyd," 

She called, " I see your laughing face." 
Then how we laughed in fun and glee, 

For he was in another place. 
In youth she was my comrade 

And years no change unfurls, 
For we are just as chummy 

As when we were little girls. 

The last but not the least 

Of all our wondrous tribe, 
Is our little baby Elva, 

Who always tried our dad to bribe. 
She knew just how to do 

To get the things she wanted. 
She'd comb his hair and braid his beard 

Then tell a joke that she had hunted. 
Knowing then that she had conquered. 

While laughing, he would say, 
" What is it now my little daughter, 

What do you want today?" 

No not one too many 

They will always, always say, 
And kneeling 'round the family altar 

I've so often heard them pray 
That God would bless their children, 

And lead their steps aright, 
That in the great hereafter 

They'd be with the Lamb, the Light. 
Now we have had a glad reunion. 

On their Golden Wedding Day ; 
May God bless and keep them 

And with us much longer stay ; 


But when life here is over, 

God grant that near thy throne 
They may stand together waiting 
To welcome each child home. 

Rachel E. Gillett Young, 
Glendale, Ariz. 

This poem was written for the occasion, and was read 
by the author at the reunion. 

Father's Seventieth Birthday 

When an inspiration's ready 

It isn't best to wait ; 
And put it off and put it off 

To another time and date. 

I had an inspiration to write 

To my dear old dad ; 
To tell him that I love him 

And to say that I am glad 

I am among the destined number 

To be his baby girl; 
To have him pull my baby teeth 

Before I could say " Squirrel," 

So I could bring his glasses 
And untie his knotted shoes; 

And bring him drinks of water — 
I'm glad it wasn't booze. 

To run his little errands, 

Though sometimes I made a row, 
When I had to attend the horses 

Or ride the sulky plow. 

Now, sometimes I wonder 
Since I'm a woman grown ; 

And have a little household 
And a baby of my own, 



Why I sometimes would tarry 
And take my time and play, 

When you were in a hurry 
And wanted it right away. 

I'm sure I meant to get it done 

And not to disobey ; 
I always meant to do i' 

But still I loved to play. 

I didn't aim, I'm sure of that, 
To be willful, mean and bad; 

I wanted sure to do the right 
For how I loved my dad I 

It wasn't at all the lack of love, 
That I'm sure and know; 

It was that childlike Nature 
To do things wrong and slow. 

Some day my little daughter 
Will surely do the same ; 

I hope I'll remember 
And not give her too much blame. 

I know you love me, dear old dad, 
Though I don't always do 

All the things been taught and 
Preached to me by you. 

But this one thing will always stick, 

I do it day by day, 
I cannot let a day go by 

But I take time to pray. 


Now my prayer is always thus; 

" Father, calm our petty fears, 
And let my daddy have good health 

For many, many years. 

" Let him keep on doing his good work, 

Just being our good dad; 
We need him, always need him, 

To scold us when we're bad. 

" But I pray, dear God, when the time 

Is ripe we'll all meet in heaven ; 
And there'll be room for everyone 
Even number eleven. Amen." 

From Your Superlative Friend, 

Elva Etta Schrock. 

Sermon on Baptism 

" Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them 
in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the 
Holy Ghost" (Matt. 28: 19), or "into the name of the 
Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost " (Revised 

This command comes from the Savior when he was 
in possession of the combined power of heaven and 
earth (Matt. 28:18). And now there is more im- 
portance attached to the ordinance of baptism than is 
generally supposed by the masses ; so much importance 
that there can not be found a promise of salvation to 
believers that will reach down to us unless we comply 
with the above command. But the promise is to them 
that believe and are baptized. (See Mark 16: 16, John 
3 : 5, Acts 2 : 38, Titus 3 : 5, 1 Peter 3 : 20, 21.) Now, 
with so much importance attached to the ordinance as 
the Gospel seems to give to it, we as poor, weak fol- 
lowers of the Lamb can not be too careful how and to 
whom we administer the ordinance. In this sermon we 
want to consult three witnesses: First, the Gospel, 
which is infallible; second, common sense; and third, 
the early church fathers. 

First. Baptism is not an old Jewish rite as some 
claim. The first time in the Scriptures that the word 



is used is Matt. 3:6. It does seem that if the ordi- 
nance were an old one the translators would have used 
the word at least once in the Old Testament, but as it 
seems to be a new rite under the Gospel Dispensation, 
and as Christ is the Author of eternal salvation to all 
them that obey him, we will go to Christ and those who 
were eyewitnesses to his majesty and glory. Now, 
Christ says, " The law and the prophets were until 
John : since that time the kingdom of God is preached, 
and every man presseth into it " (Luke 16: 16). John 
the Baptist was the forerunner of Christ, and he taught 
baptism for the remission of sins (Mark 1:4). Peter 
taught the same thing (Acts 2 : 38), and it is plainly in- 
timated by Ananias (Acts 22: 16). What man would 
dare to change the design of the ordinance? 

That Christ's blood was shed for the remission of 
sins (Matt. 26: 28) is true and must not be overlooked. 
In order that we may place ourselves in the reach of 
mercy, or that we who have come to the years of ac- 
countability may claim the blood of Christ, and through 
the blood be made free from past sins, we must be 
baptized for the remission of sins. 

As Christ has done his part we are required to do 
our part. And to reach his blood in baptism we, of 
necessity, must be baptized into his death, not burial, 
while he had blood in his body. While Christ was on 
the cross he paid the original debt, the Adamic sin ; so 


we do not have to baptize children for the remission of 
sins. They are all right ; they are not sinners. Hence, 
infant baptism is useless. But we who have become 
sinners by our actual transgressions must be baptized 
into his death while he still had blood in his body. 
Paul says, " We are buried with him by baptism into 
death " (Rom. 6:4), not into burial. 

And again he says, "If we have been planted to- 
gether in the likeness of his death " (Rom. 6:5). Now, 
how did Christ die? He bowed his head and gave up 
the ghost, and after the soldiers had pierced his side 
there came out blood and water. So it must be that 
we should reverently bow in baptism in likeness of 
Christ's death, while we can still reach his blood which 
was shed for the remission of sins. But if we baptize 
in the likeness of his burial we cannot reach his blood, 
for he had no blood in him. He was a dead Savior. 
Backward baptism is contrary both to reason and reve- 
lation, for every command of God requires forward 
action. There is no exception. Then let us bow un- 
der the mighty hand of God, and be submissive to his 
Word, and be baptized in the likeness of Christ's death. 

" Baptizing them in the name of the Father and of 
the Son and of the Holy Ghost." The verb " baptize " 
is not properly an English word, but is taken from the 
Greek word baptiso and transferred to the English. I 
believe this is admitted by all scholars. Then, to un- 


derstand what it means we will go where the ordinance 
was first administered and see how it was observed, as 
nearly as possible. We find that John was the first ad- 
ministrator, baptizing in Jordan (Matt. 8:38). But 
objections are raised, that John the Baptist baptized 
with water, and to baptize with water the water must be 
applied to the candidate, which at first looks reasonable. 
But when we investigate, we find that it does not mili- 
tate against immersion. For example, you have raised a 
crop of wheat. If you were asked how you threshed 
your wheat, you say with a machine. Now, did you 
have to put the machine on the wheat? No, you put 
the wheat into the machine and still you threshed with 
a machine. So we can baptize with water and put the 
applicant into the water just as well as you can thresh 
with a machine and put the grain into the machine. So 
you see that does not militate against immersion. 

And another objection is raised on account of the 
scarcity of water. A geographical outline of the coun- 
try is given, which seems to indicate that water was 
scarce, or had too rapid a current, or the Jordan was 
too deep, which, when properly investigated, in the 
light of reason and revelation, proves nothing for 
sprinkling or pouring. How often in our short life 
have we seen rivers change their channel ! For in- 
stance, the Missouri River and many brooks and 
springs in our time have failed. With these facts, and 


looking back at the Bible lands nearly nineteen cen- 
turies, there is no telling what changes God may have 
brought about. But to advocate scarcity of water is 
contrary to God's promise. For he assured his people 
that the land should be a good land, of brooks of 
water, of fountains and depths that spring out of val- 
leys and hills (Deut. 8:7). 

Now, this is the country in which Christianity had its 
birth. Again, could not John have baptized in the Jor- 
dan as well as Naaman could dip himself in the river 
seven times? If there was too much water for one 
there was too much for the other. Let us be consistent. 
We have seen that there is no direct proof against im- 
mersion. As we have already proved, the ordinance 
was administered in the river and in water. People be- 
gin to guess how it was done. Some guess it was by 
sprinkling, some, pouring, and some, immersion. Now, 
guesswork is all right if it hits, but if our guessing or 
our opinion is in opposition to the Word of God we 
should be willing to give up ; to " let God be true, even 
if it makes every man a liar." Christ says, " Except a 
man be born of water and of the Spirit he cannot enter 
into the kingdom of God " (John 3:5). 

It is generally admitted that our Savior meant to con- 
vey that idea by " being born of water." It is so in- 
terpreted by our Methodist brethren in their discipline, 
and how can a man be born of a few drops on the top 


of his head, when, according to all reason and nature, 
the less must come out of the greater in order to repre- 
sent a birth ? This may be so represented by immersion 
of the actual body in water, but cannot be done by affu- 
sion. Paul says, " We are buried with him by baptism 
into death" (Rom. 6:4). "We are planted in the 
likeness of his death " (Rom. 6: 5). Now, to bury or 
plant we must cover, hide or conceal (Webster), and 
this may be represented by immersion. And again, bap- 
tism is represented as a washing ( 1 Cor. 6:11; Titus 
3:5; Heb. 10:22). With all these facts before us, 
let us choose to follow in the footsteps of Christ and 
the apostles which, when looked at in the light of rea- 
son and revelation, will surely lead us down into the 
stream where we can represent the figure and the 
design that God intended. 

It has always been the practice of the Brethren, or 
the German Baptist Church, to administer baptism by 
a threefold action, as given by Matt. 28 : 19 : " Bap- 
tizing them into the name of the Father and of the 
Son and of the Holy Spirit " (Revised Edition). The 
above language is elliptical, and to supply the ellipsis 
is not adding to the meaning of the language. Ellipsis 
is the omission of one or more words of a sentence. 
The words omitted are said to be understood (Har- 
vey's Second-Part English Grammar, Page 161, 162, 
164). Harvey says that in an ellipsis the omitted 


words are clearly implied and must be restored before 
the sentence can be analyzed or parsed. For example, 
I say that in Alabama they cultivate corn and wheat 
and cotton. You understand me when I say it in those 
words. By supplying the ellipsis it makes me say as 
you understood. Now, " cultivate " is an active transi- 
tive verb, and the way I used it in this sentence I ex- 
pressed it only once, but it is understood that they culti- 
vate wheat and cotton. The omission was simply sup- 
plied and did not add to my meaning at all. 

Again, when Christ was crucified, Pilate wrote an 
inscription and placed it over him : " This is the King 
of the Jews," and it was written in Hebrew, and Greek 
and Latin (John 19:20). Now, "written" is under- 
stood three times, but expressed once. If we supply 
the omission it would simply express what is under- 
stood by the power of language. The commission with 
the ellipsis supplied would read as follows : " Baptizing 
them into the name of the Father, and baptizing them 
into the name of the Son and baptizing them into the 
name of the Holy Ghost." The above construction I 
am willing to leave to any grammarian who is unbiased 
in his mind. 

The is a definite article pointing to some definite ob-' 
ject, and is used in the commission three times, point- 
ing out the three definite objects, Father, Son and 
Holy Ghost. It is God's place to speak and ours to 


obey. With the combined power of Heaven and earth 
Christ says to baptize in the name of the Father. Then, 
if we do as he says we make an action for the active 
transitive participle baptizing. The action must pass 
over to the object acted upon which must be the can- 
didate. Christ said to baptize in the name of the Fa- 
ther. We tell our candidate we will baptize him into 
the name of the Father. So to do as Christ com- 
manded, and as we promised we dip or immerse our 

Christ also says, " baptizing them into the name of 
the Son." We again tell our candidate that we baptize 
him into the name of the Son. To obey the voice of 
the Son of God, and to make our word good, we make 
another action, that is, we dip our candidate. But we 
are not done yet, for Christ further says, " baptizing 
them into the name of the Holy Ghost," and again, if 
we obey the Son of God and do as we promise our 
candidate, we will make another action, that is, dip or 
immerse our candidate once more. Thus making triune 
immersion, for three times one are three. And in so 
doing we have not added to his Word but only supplied 
what is understood by the power of language. We 
thus can represent the plurality and unity of the God- 

But if we tell our candidate we will baptize him into 
the name of the Father, and remain motionless, and 


into the name of the Son, and still remain motionless, 
and into the name of the Holy Ghost, and then make 
an action or dip our candidate, according to the power 
of language we have baptized our candidate into the 
name of the Holy Ghost, and not into the name of the 
Father and Son at all. We have represented the unity 
of the Godhead but not the plurality of it. That the 
three are one in a certain sense is true. But in the 
same sense that they are one, baptizing into each re- 
spective name would make one baptism. For if we dip 
into each name and it takes the three names to make the 
one God, would it not take three dips to make the one 
baptism of Ephesians 4:5: " One Lord, one faith, one 
baptism " ? 

In this place Paul is using baptism as a noun, the 
name of the action after it is done. But in Heb. 6:2 
he uses it in the plural. We do claim that it takes 
three immersions to constitute the one baptism as com- 
manded by our Savior. But, says one, " Are not Fa- 
ther, Son and Holy Ghost one?" As I have already 
admitted in a certain respect they are. They are one in 
love, and unity, united in the same grand work of sav- 
ing the human family, the same as Christ's followers 
are one. For Christ prays for his disciples that they 
may all be one as he and the Father are one (John 17 : 
21, 22, 26) . Paul declares, in speaking of the church, 
that there are many members in one body, so we be- 


ing many are one body in Christ, and every one mem- 
bers one of another (Rom. 12: 5). Further on in the 
same chapter he tells of the different gifts. And again 
man and wife are said to be one (Eph. 5:23:33). 

But we see that they hold different offices in the 
family. So with the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. 
Though working to the same end, they hold different 
offices. The Father is the Creator and Preserver of 
all things. The Son is the Mediator between God and 
man (John 16: 23; 1 Tim. 2:5). The Holy Ghost is 
to reprove the world of sin, of righteousness, and of 
judgment, and to guide into all truth (John 16: 8, 14). 
Because husband and wife are one, can our wife eat 
our dinner and satisfy our demands? 

We say no. On the same plane of reasoning why 
should it satisfy the demand of the Father and Son 
to baptize into the name of the Holy Ghost, and not 
baptize into the name of the Father and of the Son, as 
Christ has told us to do? That there is a plurality in 
the Godhead can be proved from Genesis to Revelation. 
And God said, " Let us make man in our image " (Gen. 
1:26). Here we find the Father talking to his Son 
(compare Heb. 1:2). Again when Christ was bap- 
tized in Jordan there were three made manifest. Two 
were seen and one heard (Matt. 3 : 16, 17). And there 
should be three manifested in our baptism, who are 
Father, Son and Holy Ghost. But Christ is called 


God, and Peter directs to baptize in his name. 
First. Why was Christ called God? I answer, for 
the same reason that I am called Gillett. My father's 
name was Gillett, and my name is Gillett, and I can 
not help it ; neither do I want to. I inherited my name 
from my father and that is not all. I inherited looks 
from my father, in so much that I have been identified 
at different times by those who were familiar with my 
father, and now I am Gillett, the son, not the father, 
but sometimes referred to as being the father because 
I so resemble him. Now Christ inherited his name 
from his Father (Heb. 1:3, 4), and he is sometimes 
referred to as such, yet it would be out of all reason to 
say he was the real Father, for he prayed to his Father 
while on earth, and tells us to ask the Father in his 

Second. It is true that Peter commanded to bap- 
tize in the name of Christ (Acts 2 : 38). He also com- 
manded the lame man in the same name to rise and 
walk (Acts 3:6). In fact, all that the apostles said and 
did was in the name of Christ or by the authority of 
Christ. By the authority of Christ he commanded 
them to be baptized, and that will lead us back to Matt. 
28 : 18, 19, where Christ so plainly says, " All power 
is given unto me. ... Go ye therefore, and teach 
all nations, baptizing them into the name of the Father 
and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost." If he obeyed 


to the letter, this will never fall short of triune im- 

" Well," says one, " you have represented baptism 
as a birth or burial. We take our candidate into the 
water only once and out once. But you make three 
actions or three immersions in one baptism." A burial 
or birth is only figurative, and may be fully repre- 
sented by a threefold administration of the ordinance. 
Peter says of baptism that it is " not the putting away 
of the filth of the flesh" (1 Pet. 3:21). Now, if 
affusion had been the primitive mode, Peter would 
have had no use for the above language. But as triune 
immersion was the practice, and probably looked to 
some as though it might be for the cleansing of the 
body, to stop the mouths of the gainsayers Peter de- 
clares that it is for a more noble purpose. 

A sinner can be compared to filthiness, and when 
anything is filthy it takes water to purify it — the more 
water the better. Baptism is emblematic of washing 
away sin (Acts 22: 10). Not that in reality it washes 
away sin, or that the power is in the water. The power 
is with God. He commands ; if we obey we can claim 
a promise of the remission of our sins; not through 
merit of the water, nor our own merit, but through 
Christ, who gave us the way. For it is " not by works 
of righteousness which we have done, but according 
to his mercy he saves us by the washing of regenera- 


tion and renewal of the Holy Ghost " (Titus 3:5; 
Eph. 5:26). Let me give an example: Our wives 
generally wash all their soiled clothes once a week, and 
put them through at least three waters, but if we ask 
how many times they have washed they will say once. 
Yet they have put their clothes through three waters, 
and so we dip our candidate three times, yet it makes 
but one washing or one baptism. Now from the stand- 
point of history we will consider the subject. 

There is a history written by O. V. Orchard of Bed- 
fordshire, Eng., a Baptist minister, entitled " Foreign 
Missions." It traces baptism back to the primitive age. 
Mr. Orchard gives the church of the first century the 
name of Baptist (page 36). He also gives Tertullian 
the honor of being a Baptist (page 33), and names his 
authority for baptism which, he says, is " plunged in 
the water three times " (pages 23, 44). 

He says again that the respectable historians affirm 
that no evidence exists as to any alternation in the sub- 
jects or mode of baptism. During the third century 
we have no testimony as to any alteration in the rite of 
baptism (page 35). And if there had been no change 
up to that time, surely the practice that then prevailed 
must have been the same that had been handed down 
from the apostles. And on the same page, Mr. Orchard 
said, " They generally dipped them thrice in water, 
invoking the name of the Holy Trinity." Yet, with all 


of this, the learned writer says they were Baptists. 

But if triune immersion was right then, it is right 
now. Let us be consistent. Suffice it to say that the 
following historians have given their testimony in favor 
of triune immersion: Tertullian, Basil, Cyril, Greg- 
ory, and Ambrose, with others. All agree in giving 
testimony in its favor. And A. Campbell makes the 
honest admission that not only Mosheim and Neander, 
but all of the historians, as well as Professor Stuart, 
trace triune immersion to the time of the apostles 
(Campbell and Rice debate, page 258, first edition). 
We might multiply witnesses, but for the present time 
will not permit. 

Now, do not treat this discourse as the man did the 
rotten footlog, say it may be all right, but we will go 
around some other way, for if it is all right for one it 
is all right for all. Neither come up with the excuse 
that " I have already been baptized by some other way, 
and that satisfies my conscience." Remember, the con- 
science may be educated wrong. You may have had 
faulty instruction, as was the case with those Paul 
found at Ephesus who, when they found themselves 
wrong, were rebaptized (Acts 19:2, 7). Remember, 
there is one lawful way to get into the sheepfold: 
" He that climbs up some other way, the same is a thief 
and a robber." 

Christ declares that he is the door (John 10: 16). 


And again he says, " I am the way, the truth, and the 
Life. No man comes to the Father but by me." He 
being the way, says that we should be baptized " into 
the name of the Father and the Son, and the Holy 
Ghost." And surely he means what he says. Again, 
our Savior says, " If you love me, keep my command- 
ments." Now, in conclusion, I will say, that by urgent 
request and strong desire to see the primitive mode of 
baptism restored, I have presented these few broken 
remarks to the public, and if they are according to 
God's Word, may you accept the same and give God 
the glory. May we all at last reach heaven and immor- 
tal glory is the prayer of your unworthy servant in 


Sermon from 2 Timothy 4: 7, 8 

" I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, 
I have kept the faith ; henceforth there is laid up for me 
a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteous 
Judge shall give me in that day ; and not to me only, 
but unto all them also that love his appearing." 

This is the language of the Apostle Paul in his de- 
clining days. He knew what it was to fight against 
the Lord, and he knew, also, what it meant to fight for 
the Lord. In the first instance, when he found out that 
he was fighting wrongly, he surrendered without com- 
promise; he accepted the Lord's terms fully, going 
wherever he was sent, obeying whatever he was told. 
He must have been a wonderfully brave soldier, too, 
for the Lord. It takes a brave soldier of the cross to- 
day, as well, to win the crown. 

I am going to call this sermon " BRAVE," and I 
shall divide it into five parts in the form of an acrostic : 

BATTLE for the LORD, 

RECRUITS for his army, 

ADVANCE toward Heaven, 

VICTORY is ours, and 

ETERNAL life is sure. 
Now, no government of this world would send an 
army against the enemy until it was first fully equipped 



for the battle. The soldiers would first be organized. 
There would be a general, captains, and various other 
under-officers, including even recruiting officers. The 
soldiers would have to be drilled and disciplined. They 
would need to be uniformed; and that uniform would 
have to be different from that of the opposing army, 
or they would not recognize one another upon the bat- 
tlefield and, like the hosts of Midian (Judges 7 : 16-22), 
would kill their own fellow-men. Accessory to the 
army are the doctors, surgeons, and hospital corps to 
care for the sick, the wounded, and the dying. Addi- 
tionally, every soldier has to stand a physical examina- 
tion. For an army, the best men are taken, and the 
shame of such a practice is that our best blood is left 
dead on the battlefield, crippled for life, or diseased. 
And owing to the false idea of war the physical scrubs 
are left to rear a new generation ; and logically a weaker 
generation than the one that preceded it. In this kind 
of an army there are many professed Christians. Many 
denominations are at strife on each side. This is es- 
pecially true of our late Rebellion. Thus composed 
they met on the field of carnage ; Catholic killing Catho- 
lic, Baptist killing Baptist, Methodist killing Metho- 
dist. In other words, they trampled the peaceable re- 
ligion of our Lord Jesus Christ, which they all claimed 
to experience, on the level of the brute creation, min- 
gling one another's blood. Now, if such work is Gos- 


pel religion, I confess I do not have it; and neither do 
I want it. I will make no compromise with such 
teachings. My motto has always been, " Make No 
Compromise with Sin, Flesh or the Devil." 

Looking to the Lord's army we find it organized 
similarly; but, thank the Lord, it is for a more noble 
purpose. The former army is organized to take life 
and is headed by the " Prince of the power of the Air." 
The Christian army has a different Leader — the God of 
Hosts is the General, Jesus Christ, the " Prince of 
Peace," is the Captain; the Holy Spirit is the Com- 
forter and Guide. Besides these there are various 
other officers, such as elders, preachers, and deacons. 
Our elders are supposed to be guided in this work by 
and through the Holy Spirit. The minister's work is 
to help the elder. Thinking of the two we might term 
them recruiting officers. The deacons in their particu- 
lar service make up the hospital corps to take care of 
the wounded, the sick, the weak, the orphans and 

As to the uniform in the Lord's Army the Book does 
not say in so many words that we should wear a uni- 
form ; but it certainly does imply it. It says, " As 
obedient children, not fashioning yourselves according 
to the former lusts in your ignorance " (1 Peter 1 : 14). 
And again it says, " Be not conformed to this world " 
(Rom. 12:2), and again, "Whose adorning let it not 


be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair and of 
wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel " (1 Peter 
3 : 3, 1 Tim. 2:9). And again, " We should be known 
and read of all men." 

Seeing then that the Book does teach modesty, plain- 
ness, and difference from the world, how shall we 
maintain that plainness without rules and order ? The 
Brethren have in their General Conferences, from time 
to time, decided on certain forms which they deemed 
appropriate, and which they had a perfect right to do, 
that there might be a complete unity maintained ; that 
the Lord's army might be so attired as to be readily dis- 
tinguished from the hosts of the world's army ; and that 
we might recognize our fellow-soldiers anywhere we 
chanced to meet. Most of us have solemnly promised 
before God and men that we would conform to the set 
order of our army. Especially so have the elders, 
preachers, and deacons. It is a sad fact that many of 
our elders and ministers are living in direct opposition 
to the promises they have made; are in open rebellion 
against the Annual Meeting decisions and their prom- 
ises. They wear a different garb ; they sport neckties, 
and even adorn themselves with jewelry and regalia 
until they can not be told from the army of the world 
— no, not by outward appearance ; no, not by conduct. 
Our young people, going out from our colleges on 
deputation teams, are not ashamed of their school em- 


blems, for they wear their badges and colors clearly for 
that purpose. They show just where they belong. When 
our young people go out for contests and games they 
are not ashamed of their garbs. They show who they 
are and to what side they belong. Would it not be just 
as easy for them to wear a garb to show that they be- 
longed to the Lord? that they were brethren and sis- 
ters ? When our members get into government service, 
they do not hesitate to put on the uniform Uncle Sam 
says to wear. When you ride on the train you do not 
have to ask " Who are the conductor and brakemen?" 
You can tell them by their garb. The Salvation Army 
people are known, and they are not ashamed of their 
peculiar dress. And why should we be? What right 
have we to break our promises ? 

Next in importance are the instruments of warfare. 
They are not of the same order as the implements of 
carnal warfare ; not swords, nor guns, nor cannon, nor 
battleships, nor airplanes, nor bombs, nor poison gas. 
Such things destroy the life and property of others ; 
they fill cemeteries, make cripples and orphans and 
widows. No, no ! Paul says, " The weapons of our 
warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the 
pulling down of strongholds " (2 Cor. 10 : 4). Also he 
says, " Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his 
might. Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may 
be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For 


we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against prin- 
cipalities, against powers, against the rulers of the 
darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in 
high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armor 
of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil 
day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, 
having your loins girt about with truth, and having on 
the breastplate of righteousness; . . . Above all, 
taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able 
to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take 
the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, 
which is the word of God ; praying always with all 
prayer and supplication . . . for all saints " (Eph. 

Now, being fully equipped we are ready to go into 
BATTLE for the Lord. 

And using the language of Patrick Henry, as he 
paced restlessly the legislative hall of Old Virginia, he 
said, " We must fight ! I repeat it, sir, WE MUST 
FIGHT 1" So say I, brethren, " We must fight " if 
we expect to win. We must save our souls and those 
around about us. God forbid that we should fight as 
the Jews did in the year 70 A. D., when Titus sur- 
rounded the walls of Jerusalem. Inside the walls were 
provisions for years, but instead of fighting their com- 
mon foe, they divided into four factions and fought 
among themselves. They destroyed one another's sup- 


plies and provisions. They struggled like demons, and 
when their provisions were exhausted they even ate the 
slain bodies of their comrades. Yea, they ravished 
the temple of the Most High God and committed mur- 
der before its sacred altar. Brethren, stop a moment 
and think ! Was not that temple a type of the Church 
of Christ (Eph. 2:19-22)? 

Paul says, " If ye bite and devour one another, take 
heed that ye be not consumed one of another " (Gal. 5 : 
15). Shall we help history to repeat itself? The Jews, 
as I said, were divided into four factions. The Old 
" Dunkard " church is likewise broken into four seg- 
ments. The Jews, in consequence of their condition, 
lost their battle against the Romans. May we not take 
warning ? May we not learn the lesson ? Again, I cite 
you to old Jericho — stronghold of Jordan. But said 
God, " March around the city once each day for six 
days, and the seventh compass it seven times. Then 
blow your trumpets of ram's horn and shout." They 
did and the walls fell flat before them. Why? The 
army did just what God had said to do. Israel took 
the city — it was theirs. God had also said, " Take none 
of the booty to yourselves." But one man, Achan, dis- 
obeyed. He took a wedge of gold and a beautiful 
Babylonish garment. He hid them in his tent. But 
when the victorious army marched against Ai they 
failed. Why? They had lost their great Commander. 


God hid his face from them. One man had sinned. 
When that man was found out, he was put to death 
with all his household. In a figure, when sin had been 
put away the city was taken. Brethren, beware of the 
golden wedge and the Babylonish garment! 

But brethren, we must fight the good fight of faith : 

" Onward, Christian soldiers, 
Marching as to war, 
With the cross of Jesus, 
Going on before." 

" Hold the fort for I am coming, 
Jesus signals still ; 
Wave the answer back to heaven, 
' By thy grace we will.' " 

But it is not enough simply to hold the fort. We 

RECRUIT for his army. 

We must not only fill up the ranks, but we must 
have more recruits in reserve. 

" Mighty men are around us falling, 
Courage almost gone." 

Many of our best soldiers have served their time, 
and the Lord has given them their honorable discharge. 
" They have fought a good fight ; they have finished 
their course; they have kept the faith." And many 
more like myself are only waiting for the summons to 
quit the ranks ; and their places must be filled. 

We get our recruits out of the world ; the devil gets 

SERMON FROM 2 TIMOTHY 4: 7, 8 193 

his from there also. He and his agents, which are 
legion, are doing their utmost. Their tactics and de- 
vices are legion, also. Their ranks are full, but they 
are striving for more. They have no conscience ; they 
respect no sanctity; no home is immune. They enter 
even into the rank and file of the church. Even of our 
own sons and daughters do they take. We are appalled 
at their daring, but what can we do ? This only : rally 
to the standard of our Great Captain ; close our ranks 
and fight. It will levy our time ; take our money ; ques- 
tion our talents; it will tax our courage, our endur- 
ance, our longsuffering, and our integrity. Every one 
must realize that it is a fight unto death — a fight of 
perfect unity. Division of forces is failure — volunteers 
are needed: 

" A volunteer for Jesus, a soldier true ; 

Others have enlisted, why not you? 

Jesus is our Captain, we will never fear; 

Will you be enlisted as a volunteer?" 

Now, having enlisted under the blood-stained ban- 
ner of King Immanuel, and having put on the whole 
armor of God ; and having fought for God, for heaven 
and for the good of humanity, as brave soldiers of the 
cross, and having helped to recruit the Lord's army, 
we must now 

ADVANCE toward Heaven. 

Now, the enemy is in our way, and all along the 
road that leads to the Glory world will we find our ad- 


vance blocked and abutted with evil devices. So I 
repeat again, " We must fight," and at the same time 
advance toward " the prize of the high calling of God 
in Christ Jesus." And the general of our foes has not 
lost any of his adroitness. But through his six thou- 
sand years' experience in the destruction of souls of 
men he is the better qualified to deceive. He knows 
his doom is sealed ; he sees the bottomless pit yawn be- 
fore him; yet will he drag with him all the innocent 
blood he can to his death. If he can't get enough re- 
cruits outside of the walls of Zion, he will even scale 
the battlements of the sacred enclosure, and play havoc 
with the flock within. Jesus said, " Verily, verily, I 
say unto you, He that entereth not by the door into the 
sheep fold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is 
a thief and a robber." Even though he may not con- 
sume them, he destroys their morale, and they become 
weak and sickly. As Paul says, " For this cause many 
are weak and sickly among you, and many sleep " ( 1 
Cor. 11:30). Ah! That "sleeping sickness," the 
worst of maladies. One dreaded disease among us is 
infantile paralysis. Those that have spiritual infantile 
paralysis, like the natural, never develop; always a 
babe. They must be taken care of, though it impedes 
our progress. Now our 

VICTORY is at hand. 


When we were convicted of sin; accepted of the 
testimony of the Son of God ; repented of our sins and 
were baptized into the name of (or by the authority of) 
Jesus Christ for the remission of sins; and received 
the gift of the Holy Ghost, we entered into victory. 
The fact that all our sins are forgiven, and that we 
have the Holy Ghost for our Guide is a most Wonder- 
ful Victory. But there are victories all along the way — 
victories every day for our arch foe is still pitted 
against us. James was right when he said, " Resist the 
devil and he will flee from you ; draw nigh to God and 
he will draw nigh to you " ; so why allow the devil the 
privilege to grapple with you, when you can have the 
Great General by you? 

But it is at the end of the race, after we have fought 
many good fights, finished our course and kept the 
faith. It is only then 

ETERNAL LIFE is fully assured. 

It is then that we hear the welcome plaudit, " Come, 
thou, blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom pre- 
pared for you from the foundation of the world," and 
receive the crown of life. The crown will be given to 
all them who " overcome." Then for the first time, 
with Paul and Peter and John and all the faithful, 
who have gone on before, can we join with them in 
the great Redemption Song, " Great and marvelous are 


thy works, Lord God Almighty. Just and true are thy 
ways, thou King of saints." 

" Then palms of victory, crowns of glory, 
Palms of VICTORY we shall bear." 


The Book of Revelation is recognized by all Bible 
students as a book of prophecy, or prophetic book. All 
prophecy is in the future at the time the prophet re- 
veals it. Events foretold which have now been fulfilled 
become history. John records in Rev. 4:1," After this 
I looked, and, behold, a door was opened in heaven: 
and the first voice which I heard was as it were of a 
trumpet talking with me ; which said, Come up hither, 
and I will show thee things which must be hereafter." 

Now, many preachers and writers in trying to ex- 
plain Revelation place what should be future when 
John saw it as though it were in the past; some of it 
even before creation, and to my mind make it seem 
much more of a mystery than it really is. Some of it 
may be in the past now, and I believe it is, but it was 
not so when John saw it. With this explanation, I 
shall proceed to give my view on chapter 12. John says 
he saw another wonder, in heaven, " a woman clothed 
with the sun and the moon under her feet." Most 
writers say the woman represents the Virgin Mary, 
but as that would be in the past we will have to make 
some other application. Now, as the church is always 
represented in the feminine gender, I shall say that 



the woman represents the church, clothed with the 
Son of Righteousness, or in other words, the Gospel 
of Jesus Christ. The moon under her feet, undoubted- 
ly means the old law, while the crown of twelve stars 
on her head are probably the same stars as in verse 4. 
(I will let the reader make his own application as to 
what the stars may represent.) Verse 2: "And she 
being with child cried, travailing in birth, and pained to 
be delivered." Verse 3 : " And there appeared another 
wonder in heaven ; and behold a great red dragon, hav- 
ing seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon 
his head." Verse 4 : " And his tail drew the third part 
of the stars of heaven, and did cast them to the earth : 
and the dragon stood before the woman which was 
ready to be delivered, for to devour her child as soon 
as it was born." Verse 5 : " And she brought forth a 
man child, who was to rule all nations with a rod of 
iron : and her child was caught up unto God, and to 
his throne." 

Now, the dragon must represent Satan the Devil. 
(Compare verse 7, chapter 17:3, 9, 10; Dan. 8:9.) It 
could not possibly have been Herod, as some would 
have it, and the man child not have been our Christ, 
for his mission was not to rule the nations with a rod 
of iron. Besides, the birth of Christ was in the past, 
so this child must have been the Antichrist. You will 
find the same person described by Paul. 


" Now we beseech you, brethren, by the coming of 
our Lord Jesus Christ, and by our gathering together 
unto him, that ye be not soon shaken in mind, or be 
troubled, neither by spirit, nor by word, nor by letter 
as from us, as that the day of Christ is at hand. Let 
no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall 
not come, except there come a falling away first, and 
that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition. Who 
opposeth and exalteth himself above all that is called 
God, or that is worshiped ; so that he as God sitteth in 
the Temple of God shewing himself that he is God " 
(2Thess. 2:1, 4). 

Constantine ascended the throne of the Roman Em- 
pire in A. D. 323. During his reign he caused a com- 
promise to be made between Pagan Rome and Christi- 
anity. Many pagan rites were introduced in the church 
and the true church committed spiritual adultery. Still 
there were a remnant left who remained true and did 
not compromise. Now, it was no more Pagan Rome 
but Papal Rome. 

It is a fact that the true church gave birth to Roman 
Catholicism, headed by the man child — the pope (Rev. 
12 : 5, who it was prophesied would rule all na- 
tions with a rod of iron, and he sure did. Now 
the woman, or church, was not delivered of the 
man child (or Antichrist) all of a sudden. It took 
travail pain and trouble before the real pope got into 


full power. It came about by one bishop gaining more 
power than another and finally resulted in one bishop 
gaining all power and supremacy. Hence the pope, 
who ruled with the rod of iron, probably about the 
middle of the fifth century " was caught up to God 
and ' his throne,' " a metaphorical term meaning self- 
exalted. And the woman (the true church) fled into 
the wilderness where she had a place prepared of God 
that they should feed her there a thousand two hundred 
and threescore days. (See Rev. 11:3.) 

In prophecy one day stands for a year (Ezek. 4:6), 
so the church was cared for in the wilderness 1,260 
years. Now, it is a fact that the true church was se- 
cluded or lost succession as a church for that or about 
that many years. But, thank the Lord, she kept her 
identity. It must have been about the end of the 1,260 
years that the true church, or, at least, a church which 
had the exact identity of the New Testament church, 
built on the same foundation, came forth out of se- 
clusion, organized in a working body at Schwarzenau, 
Germany, in 1708, calling themselves Brethren. Some 
of our old Brethren believed that, at least, one of that 
number was a baptized Waldensian. I believe that had 
the Brethren written their own early history, it might 
have been so proven. Verse 7 : " And there was war 
in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the 
dragon ; and the dragon fought and his angels." Verse 


9 : " And the great dragon was cast out, that old ser- 
pent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the 
whole world; he was cast out into the earth, and his 
angels were cast out with him." And now this, too, 
was in the future, as John saw it, and I am inclined to 
believe it still is in the future. 

Let us locate where that battle took place. I am 
striving to get away from war and I want to go to that 
heaven John describes in Rev. 22. In 2 Cor. 12 : 3, 
Paul speaks of the third heaven. Then there must be a 
first heaven and a second before we get to the third, so 
let us reason out which one the war is in. 

A kingdom must have a king, subjects and territory. 
Christ was born King. When he called his first dis- 
ciples and they followed him, his church kingdom was 
started, though only a little stone. But it was to roll 
and get larger until it filled the whole earth. Jesus 
says the kingdom of heaven is like a net cast into the 
sea, catching all kinds of fishes; the good are pre- 
served ; the bad are cast away. Again, the kingdom of 
heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. 
When he slept an enemy sowed tares. They were to 
grow together until the harvest and then be separated. 
By this Christ must mean the first kingdom or church 
kingdom, and the second kingdom must be the millen- 
nium kingdom, in which we reign with him for a thou- 
sand years. The third and perfect kingdom must be 


the New Jerusalem, the eternal abode of the saints. 

Now, it seems to me that the most reasonable place 
to locate that war would be the first heaven (the 
church), and the war is still in progress. Are we not 
divided? Are we of the same mind and same judg- 
ment as Paul says we should be ( 1 Cor. 1 : 10) ? It 
seems now, as in the times of Job, when the sons of 
God came to worship, Satan comes also. I am so glad 
he is going to be cast out, but when that time comes, if 
we have fought on the right side I think we will be 
ushered into the millennial or second kingdom. 

As further proof that the war was not in the third 
heaven, read verse 11. That seems to establish the fact 
that death will take place in that conflict. In the latter 
part of that verse it says, " They loved not their lives 
unto the death." 

Now, who is this Devil ? Where did he come from ? 
I believe there is a Devil. I believe him to be a per- 
sonal being; a being in opposition to God and every- 
thing that is good. I believe he can transform himself 
into an angel of light. I believe that through his agents 
(angels) he can even perform miracles (Ex. 7: 11 ; 8: 
7, 18; 1 Sam. 28: 11-14). I believe he still can and 
does perform miracles and does them under the cover 
of religion. 

I believe that Joseph Smith and some of his follow- 
ers actually performed miracles, and by so doing de- 


ceived many. Like John Alexander Dowie, Aimpe 
Semple McPherson and hosts of others have done the 
same thing, but by what power? It couldn't have been 
the power of God, for they did not and do not comply 
with the conditions that are laid down in the New 
Testament, which brings them into the relationship 
with our Heavenly Father (joint heirs). I believe that 
many think they are doing right, "because they re- 
ceived not the love of the truth, that they might be 
saved. And for this cause God shall send them strong 
delusion, that they should believe a lie: that they all 
might be damned who believed not the truth, but had 
pleasure in unrighteousness" (2 Thess. 2:10-12). 
Now, where did such a powerful personage originate 
and how was it brought about? It has always been 
thought that he originated in heaven, that God made 
him an angel and he sinned and God cast him out and 
he became a Devil. The main scripture to prove this 
argument is taken from the 12th chapter of Revelation 
which I am now trying to explain. 

Let me again draw attention to the fact that this was 
still future when it was revealed to John and there 
was sure a Devil long before that. In fact, when God 
put forth his first creative act, the Devil was on the 
job as his opponent. Now, I never thought that God 
would create or make his own opposition. I am sure I 
wouldn't, neither do I think anyone else would; and 


again, if that particular angel sinned who tempted him ? 
What caused him to go wrong? There must have been 
an evil influence somewhere. 

You may call me a heretic, but I deny the charge. I 
don't believe that God made his own opposite, nor do 
I believe that an angel made himself a devil. 

Come, let us reason together. I believe I am safe 
in saying that everything you can think of has its oppo- 
site. Night is opposed today, darkness to light, bad to 
good, and negative to positive. Now, when God, in the 
first creative acts (Gen. 1), said it was good, what 
would the word good qualify, if there had not been 
some bad some place or somewhere? It must be that 
the Great God of the universe is a self-existing per- 
sonal Power. It follows that his opposite must have 
existed always. He must always have had his opposite 
or negative. Hence the Devil must be a self-existing 
power. But, says one, " When the disciples returned 
after performing miracles, did not Christ say he saw 
Satan fall from heaven ?" Well, let us read just what 
he said and then we can come to some conclusions as 
to what he meant to teach. " And he said unto them, 
I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven " (Luke 
10: 18). But compare Satan's fall or overthrow to the 
lightning falling from heaven, not from the kingdom of 
heaven, but from the firmament above. When did 
Jesus see this, at that particular time or did he see it in 


the future ? I am inclined to believe it was the future ; 
and it may have been the same event that John saw. It 
couldn't have been at the time when Jesus made the 
statement, because he had been on earth long before 
that. So there is no argument in that statement to 
prove that he was a fallen angel. Lucifer is supposed 
by some to mean the Devil, and may be he is. Isaiah 
says, " How art thou fallen from heaven ; O Lucifer, 
son of the morning [" O day star " is marginal read- 
ing] , how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst 
weaken the nations " (Isa. 14: 12) ! 

" For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into 
heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God : 
I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in 
the sides of the north : I will ascend above the heights 
of the clouds; I will be like the most High " (Isa. 14: 
13, 14). 

" Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the 
sides of the pit" (Isa. 14:15). Notice Lucifer (or 
Day Star) says, " I will, I will do so and so," which is 
future, which proves nothing opposite to my idea of 
Satan. Some think Ezekiel is referring to Satan in 
speaking of the king of Tyrus (Ezek. 26: 3; 28: 12). 
In the 28th chapter and 2nd verse he refers to him as 
a man. Now Tyre and Tyrus mean the same, and 
there was such a place and the prophet must have been 
speaking of some self-exalted king. 


I don't think that it is essential to our salvation to 
know or to believe that he was created or was a fallen 
angel, or a self-existing power, but I do think, to be 
consistent, it gives me a better understanding. I do be- 
lieve the scriptures are a common-sense book, God's 
revealed will to common man. I believe it was A. 
Campbell who said that " a revelation that needed to 
be revealed was no revelation at all." 

One time, as I stood up in the pulpit I quoted my 
text from Job : " And it came to pass when the sons of 
God came to worship, Satan came also." Just as I 
was quoting my text a drunken man came staggering 
in through the door hunting for a seat. It caused quite 
a sensation ; the congregation looked at me and then at 
the drunken man. I suppose they thought I took my 
text on purpose to fit the occasion. I did not, but it fit 
just the same. As one common family, we believe 
there is a God, but we may differ as to how to ap- 
proach him. We all agree that there is likewise a Devil. 
We realize that he is doing his best to defeat the plans 
of Almighty God. James says, " Resist the Devil and 
he will flee from you; draw nigh to God and he will 
draw nigh unto thee." So we all must do our best to 
resist him and keep out of his clutches. 

I want to relate a story I read in a book entitled, 
" Replies to Ingersoll." I can't vouch for the truthful- 
ness of the story. It could have happened, and maybe 


it did not. Anyway, it teaches a wonderful lesson. 
The story, as related, is as follows : In the days of slav- 
ery there was an infidel who had a slave that was a 
Christian. One time the master took the slave with 
him to hunt. The slave was telling his master about 
his troubles. The master said, " Sambo, how does it 
come that you Christians have so much trouble ? Now, 
I am no Christian ; I don't believe in Christ and I don't 
have the troubles you Christians have. Why is it?" 
" Don't know, sah, can't tell you," said Sambo. But 
finally the master shot into a flock of ducks, killed one 
and crippled one. He told the slave to go and get them 
and the slave picked up the dead duck and stood looking 
at it while the crippled duck was getting away, and the 
master hollered at him : " Let that dead duck alone, run 
after the crippled duck." And when the darky had 
caught the live duck and had picked up the dead duck 
and returned to his master he said, " Massa, I can now 
tell you why us Christians gets in trouble and you 
don't. You told me to let the dead duck alone and run 
after the crippled duck. De Debel got you plum dead, 
he just got us Christians crippled, and is still after us." 
Dear reader, are you dead or crippled? 

All Kinds of Houses 

A house is a place in which to live. There are all 
manner of houses. Some are brick, some stone, some 
wood, and some are snow ; some are big, some small, 
some modern and some crude; some have solid foun- 
dations, some poor, and some no foundation at all. 
Also the occupants differ as much as the houses and 
foundations; some are rich, some poor, some white, 
some black, some neat, some filthy, some peaceable, 
some quarrelsome, some saints, and some sinners. 
Some own their houses and some are tenants. Now, 
it is the tenant house and the tenant that I wish to 
talk about. 

A family is frequently called a house. Paul, also, in 
1 Cor. 3: 15, represents the church as a house. He 
says, " But if I tarry long, that thou mayest know how 
thou oughtest to behave thyself in the house of God, 
which is the church of the living God, the pillar and 
the ground of the truth." Of course Paul refers to the 
one and only church which was built upon a sure foun- 
dation ; viz., on the foundation of Christ and the Apos- 
tles and Prophets — Jesus Christ being the chief Corner 
Stone (Eph. 2:20). And the Great God of the uni- 
verse is the Architect. But since then many more houses 



have been built (or churches organized), so there may 
be some doubt as to their foundation, their material, 
and their architect. 

Now, there are as many grades of churches as there 
are of the temporal houses we have mentioned. And 
some say that one is as good as another. Think; is 
there no difference in our temporal houses? Were 
you buying or renting a house in the city, would you 
not exercise a choice? If you were buying would you 
not look at the foundation? examine the material? get 
the price? and most of all see if the title were clear? 

Were you renting only would you not exercise cau- 
tion as to the price and time you might stay? Oh! if 
people were only as particular about their house — the 
church — as they are about titles and lands and homes, 
it seems to me it would be better here in this life and 
much more assuring as to the Heavenly Mansion. 

Now, we come back to the tenant house. The tenant 
is to a great extent at the mercy of the landlord. The 
landlord may want to sell the place, and may show it a 
hundred times, to the annoyance of the tenant. The 
tenant lives in suspense lest the landlord may compel 
him to move. At last the house is sold and he gets his 
orders to vacate at once. The orders may make him 
put up with many inconveniences, for he may not 
have the price to get a better. Your humble servant, 
under such conditions, has even been compelled to camp 


out, because he could not secure the price. Oh! how 
my heart goes out for the man with wife and children 
and no money and no place to go ! How I pity the old 
man without wife or children, packing his blankets! 
God pity ! But some with homes and plenty say, " It's 
their own fault." Maybe it is, and maybe it is not. 
Maybe if we had been reared amid their environments, 
with their chances, we might be in the same fix, or even 
worse. Anyway, I do pity them, and I believe our 
Heavenly Father does. 

Going back to the tenant, we find the landlord may 
have other reasons than sales for notifying the tenant 
to vacate. It may be the tenant is not desirable ; per- 
haps he does not take good care of the property; pos- 
sibly he lets the weeds grow and neglects the fence ; the 
hogs and cows may break into the door yard and de- 
stroy the shrubbery and plants; maybe the good wife 
neglects the interior ; and sometimes the children mark 
the walls, break the window panes, or do sundry other 
things. Of course, occasionally the landlord is dis- 
agreeable or unreasonable and doesn't do the right 
thing. At any odds, it is annoying. 

Let me say right here it pays the tenant to take care 
of the landlord's property ; and it pays the landlord to 
be reasonable with his tenant. Now, I want to raise 
this question, and desire that my readers pay strict at- 
tention. Read it over twice, for I shall have occasion 


to refer to it later. Question: Did you ever know a 
landlord to notify a tenant to vacate and and have a 
better building prepared for him to move into without 
any rent to pay? 

Sometimes the tenant has to move because of con- 
ditions — the house may have been shattered by storm 
or earthquake and has been condemned. I was in San 
Bernardino once watching a wrecking crew tear down 
the old courthouse. I had seen that building a good 
many times. I had thought it was a wonderful struc- 
ture. It was made of the very finest granite rock. It 
looked as if it could stand for ages. It would have 
been a credit to any county seat. Well, I wondered 
what was the matter, and I inquired, " What is 
wrong?" The answer was, " Condemned." Sometime 
before an earthquake had practically wrecked Patton, a 
village about ten miles away. San Bernardino was in 
the edge of the disturbed zone. The walls were cracked, 
the structure injured and the authority had said, " Con- 
demned — vacate." Well, it set me to thinking. Our 
bodies are only places in which to live, and we are 
merely tenants. " If our earthly house of this tab- 
ernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a 
house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens " 
(2 Cor. 5:1). 

In writing to the church at Corinth Paul says, 
" Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that 


the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? If any man defile 
the temple of God, him shall God destroy, for the tem- 
ple of God is holy, which temple ye are " (1 Cor. 3 : 16, 

So it behooves us to take good care of the house in 
which we live; for all have to move out sooner or 
later: and it depends on the way we have cared for 
the house how soon it will be. Anyway, it's high time 
we are finding out where we are moving to when we 
go. Yea, doubly so, for our next residence will be for 
eternity. Again, as Paul says, I say, " I pray God 
your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved 
blameless until the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ " 
(1 Thess. 5:23). 

The above scripture, without a doubt, proves that 
man is a threefold being — soul, body, and spirit. Now, 
the spirit and soul are not one, as some believe and 
teach, for the Word of God separates them. " For the 
word of God is quick and powerful, . . . dividing 
asunder soul and spirit " (Heb. 4: 12). The beast has 
a spirit but not a soul. " Who knoweth the spirit of 
man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast the 
goeth downward " (Eccles. 3 : 21) ? 

Suppose we substitute the word " life " for spirit. 
Then it reads, " The life of man that goeth upward or 
the life of the beast that goeth downward," and in 
Eccles. 12 : 7 use the word " life " instead of spirit. 


Does it make sense? Now ghost and spirit mean the 
same thing. When Christ was crucified he bowed his 
head and gave up the ghost. John 19 : 30 in some trans- 
lations is " gave up the spirit." Now use the word 
" life," " He bowed his head and gave up his life." Is 
that not what he did? And again Ananias and Sap- 
phira gave up the ghost (spirit), or it is understood, 
gave up their lives (Acts 5 : 5, 6). Wherever the word 
" spirit " is used, which pertains to man, use the word 
"life" and it makes good common sense. And when Paul 
prays that the whole " spirit and body and soul be pre- 
served blameless," he must mean our whole life. Now 
our life consists of more than brain action and heart- 
beat. It means our motive and actions — our character. 
Hence we read of the lives of great men; and their 
lives consist of the good that they have done for hu- 
manity. An old proverb says, " Actions speak louder 
than words." So if Paul's prayer is answered in us 
our lives will be blameless. The soul must be a coun- 
terpart of our body. It is the real man, and the old 
body is a house in which it lives. We're only tenants — 
the body only a home. 

Our soul-sleeping friends claim the soul and the body 
are one, and that in the resurrection this old body shall 
come forth; but Paul says, speaking of the resurrec- 
tion, " Thou sowest not that body that shall be, but 
bare grain, it may chance of wheat, or some other 


grain : but God giveth a body as it hath pleased him " 
(1 Cor. 15:37, 38). 

Those prehistoric beans I told about in another chap- 
ter, when planted did not bring forth the same bean, 
but a bean just like it. It was a natural body; it is 
raised a spiritual body. " There is a natural body, and 
there is a spiritual body, and so it is written, The first 
man Adam was made a living soul ; the last Adam was 
made a quickening spirit. Howbeit that was not first 
which is Spiritual, but that which is natural, and after- 
wards that which is spiritual. The first man is of the 
earth, earthy; the second man is the Lord from 
heaven. . . . And as we have borne the image of 
the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heaven- 
ly. Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood can- 
not inherit the kingdom of God" (1 Cor. 15:42-50). 

I believe it was Daniel Webster in his latter days 
that made the following statement : " I am a tenant liv- 
ing in a rickety house. The foundation is decaying 
underneath it. The door creaks on its hinges. The 
window panes rattle, and my landlord positively re- 
fuses to make any further repairs." But, thank the 
Lord, our Landlord has prepared a mansion for us to 
move into ; so when this earthly house is past living in 
and we have had a long rest we go to occupy the other 
(Rev. 6:9, 10). Then we shall be done moving — no 
more notices to vacate. There will be no rent to pay, 


no trials, no pain. Oh ! it pays to be a good tenant ; it 
pays to keep our house in order, for the time will soon 
come when " thou shalt die and not live." 

The storms of life have had their effect upon my 
poor old body ; my house is nearly shaken to pieces ; 
my term of occupation is almost spent. I have already 
told you of some of the things I have endured ; but on 
the 2nd day of January, 1927, I was taken by a strange 
malady. It came while I was in services at our home 
church. Bro. Israel Young of Hickory Grove, 111., was 
preaching. All at once my old house began to quake 
so violently that my folks had to take me home. They 
put me to bed and held me there. My jerking was not 
continuous, but by spells. Sometimes one side was in- 
volved, sometimes the other; sometimes my head only, 
and sometimes my whole body. It generally com- 
mences when I am sitting quietly or lying down and my 
body relaxing. Sometimes my hat will even be shaken 
from my head. While I am writing these items I 
scarcely ever shake, but let me stop and begin to relax 
and I am likely to be shaken like an earthquake. The 
sensation I experience is very similar to that of coming 
in contact with a live wire. I have had eight doctors 
examine me. None of them knows what to do for me. 
They say there is not another case like it recorded in 
medical annals. Of course, it is my nerves. I don't 


tremble. I am not nervous, but I simply quake like the 
old earth, by spells. 

Last summer we went to the mountains and stayed 
a month. While there I became better ; but when I re- 
turned home I got worse again. Last fall we went to 
the coast. I improved immediately and was able to do 
some preaching. We came home to Glendale for 
Christmas ; I became worse. The only remedy I know 
is to go again to the mountains or to the coast. I don't 
suffer ; I am not sick, only afflicted. I eat well and am 
holding my weight, but I am weak and can do scarcely 
anything. Oh, but I do get tired quaking ! I can't at- 
tend church, for I am likely to take one of my spells at 
any time ; and it not only disturbs me but it interferes 
with the services. It seems that my Landlord doesn't 
intend to make any further repairs ; and I am patiently 
waiting for his summons to vacate. Then I shall move 
to a better mansion. 

I know the mistakes of my life have been many, but 
I have put up a hard fight for the truth. My dear 
readers, this may be my last message. Be sure you 
comply with the conditions of salvation. Jesus is stand- 
ing outside knocking and waiting for admittance. Will 
you let him in ? He says, " Behold, I stand at the door 
and knock; if any man hear my voice and open the 
door, I will come in to him and will sup with him, and 
he with me " (Rev. 3 : 20) . " The Spirit and bride say, 


Come, and let him that heareth say, Come. And let 
him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him 
take of the water of life freely." I feel that I have 
" earnestly contended for the faith once delivered to 
the saints" (Jude 3), and like Paul, I say, "I have 
fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have 
kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for me a 
crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous 
Judge, shall give me at . . . his appearing" (2 
Tim. 4:7, 8). 

I bid my readers Good-bye.