Autobiography of Z. S. Hastings Part 5

C H A P T E R F I F T E E N

Places. "Uncle Daniel." Will Price. Visit Ind. 1881.

Return. Golden Rule.

But to return a few years in the events of my humble life, I find that I attended my first State Teachers' a.s.sociation in Kansas in 1869.

After I quit teaching I took up regular farming but kept up Sunday preaching all these many years. Preaching at Farmington, Pardee, Pleasant Grove, Crooked Creek, Lancaster, Wolf River, Holton, Whiting Goff, Round Prairie, Valley Falls, Atchison, Hiawatha, Highland, Netawaka, Corning, d.y.k.e's School House, Topeka, Winthrop, Winchester, Easton, Nortonville, Effingham, Muscotah and Williamstown. Of course I did not preach regularly very long for many of these places but simply made evangelical visits. But for some of them I preached regularly a number of years.

I preached in Wolf River in Brown County for two years. Every preacher likes to have wherever he preaches a place, or home, he can call his headquarters. Well, at Wolf River Daniel Miller's home was my home. Uncle Daniel Miller (everybody called him Uncle Daniel) was a devout disciple, and one of the most charitable and hospitable men I ever knew. Uncle Daniel was a well-to-do farmer and many were the poor who received from his charitable hand wood, hay, corn, meat, potatoes, apples and money. And, if the preacher's sum was lacking he footed the bill.

I remember one Sunday morning after the sermon I had a double wedding which I solemnized in one ceremony, and Uncle Daniel had no bill to augment that day. I usually received for preaching from $5 to $10 per day. But that day I had more than twice that amount.

Many years after the wedding referred to above, I saw a notice in the newspaper that the Hon. Will Price, candidate for the senate, would speak in Woodman Hall. I attended the meeting. The speaker came to me and taking me by the hand said, "Elder, how-do-you-do?" I said, "How do you do? But I do not know you." He said, "Do you remember the double wedding on Wolf River some years ago?" "Yes," I said, "But you are certainly not the young, bashful, scared, Will Price of that event." "I am he" he said, and sure enough he was he. But now, so different, large, handsome, wise and brave. All boys ought to grow to be men, for men are what we need in this old, sinful, abnormal world.

In 1881 after I had been away from old Indiana my native home for about fourteen years, I returned and visited the scenes of my early life. Many were the changes--a pa.s.sing of the old, and a coming of the new, bringing to me a mingling of sadness and gladness. Sad, that so much I loved before and gone. Glad that so much new had come that was good. Everywhere I had been known I was greeted with much love, respect and honor. So I was constrained to preach again at the old altars. And one young man even persuaded me to marry him to a pretty girl because he said he wanted to marry her and she was willing. So I preached again at old Liberty where I had preached and taught more perhaps than at any other place in the State. I took for my subject "Unbelief." using as a text the prayer of the poor man whose son had a dumb spirit,--"Lord, I believe. Help thou mine unbelief." But, where all may seen to be gladness and joy and faith, sin, or its effect, is always lurking around somewhere nearby.

As I was preaching I recognized in the back part of the audience a man with tears in his eyes. He was a strong intelligent man of the community. He was about my age and fifteen years before this time, when we were both younger I heard him confess with his mouth that Jesus Christ is the Son of G.o.d, and I with by own hands baptized him into Christ.

After the sermon as he came to me, I said, "Sir, what mean these tears, are they tears of joy or tears of sorrow?" He answered, "Tears of sin, I suppose, for while I was listening to you preach I was only wishing that I could have the strong faith which you seem to have." He had lost his faith by forgetting his first love. "He that loves not, obeys not. Not everyone that saith to me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of Heaven, but he that doeth the will of my father, which is in Heaven, Jesus."

Notwithstanding the many attractions of interest, love and friendship among my relatives, and friends of old Indiana I had not been there four weeks until my heart was fully set to return to Kansas. And why not? Had I not left there a dear wife and five little children?

Count, boys, how old you were then. Clara and Edith also. Edith was less than a year old. But I had fondled her so much upon my knees and call her by "Great Blue Eyes" and sang to her so much

"Baby Bunn baby bunn Great Blue Eyes Looking now so merry Now so very wise."

That upon my return home on the night train, when on entering the home in the darkness of the night, that I might not frighten anyone I call out, "Where are my big blue eyes?" Little Edith being awake and hearing me, cried out at once, "Papa, Papa."

Upon my return home I resumed my work. Crooked Creek was one of my regular places for preaching quite a while. I remember preaching there a sermon on the Golden Rule so called. In my discourse I used the same basic principles and words that Christ used in his Sermon on the Mount. But afterwards a certain disciple said, "It is no use to preach that way, for no one can live up to such teaching." But it turned out in a few years afterwards that that disciple made, (and is to this day) one of the most faithful, obedient and sacrificing members of the Church of G.o.d. Thus it seems that the Word preached may kill or make alive. In this case it seems to have done both.

In the labors of my life as a preacher, my work was mainly confined to the churches, and not to the world. I knew nothing however but to preach the gospel and teach the word. So I think the gospel is the power of G.o.d to salvation to both saints and sinners.

At another place one had heard, believed and wanted to be baptized, but her husband said, "He who baptizes my wife endangers his life."

I said to the believer, "I will risk it." I baptized her. In two weeks I preached again and at the end of the sermon that poor man came to me and said, "I have been wrong. I want to confess Jesus and be immersed." I baptized him. Some years after that I preached the funerals of both. Their lives had not been perfect but in their deaths there was hope. We live by hope. We are saved by hope. Let us hope in G.o.d. Hope is one of a trio of the greatest principles in the world.

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C H A P T E R S I X T E E N

Politics. Topeka. A vote. A snow storm. Sister Lottie.

Whiting. Pleasant Grove. Atchison.

There are many pleasant things connected with preaching and sometimes things are not so pleasant. Of course, the most pleasant of all to the true, conscientious preacher, is turning many from wrong to right, to salvation from sin and all its consequences. To know that you have preached righteousness and lived a life worthy of imitation, fills the cup of joy to overflowing.

While I have been teacher, farmer and preacher for years and years and at one time was elected to a State office, I never was a politician in the first sense of the word. Unfortunately the bad sense of the word has become the first. There is a meaning in politics in which all may be and should be politicians.

After I had taught and stood in the front rank of teachers, I thought I was ent.i.tled to be superintendent of schools, but because I would not stand as a politician in its bad sense I was turned down. Turned down because while right prevailed, wrong did much more prevail at that time. It was in the time of the saloons.

But they say it is a poor rule that does not work both ways. So without my seeking or asking for it, in the fall 1875 I was nominated and elected to the office of State Representative: and this because I was a politician in the true and better sense of the word, a Christian gentleman and pure statesman. And yet, it was the time of saloons. And yet, again righteousness did abound but sin did much more abound. I wondered why I was chosen, until a friend explained it was because they wanted to give credibility to the ticket. To this day, I do not know whether it was a compliment or not. But is made no difference, it was at the State Capitol with over a hundred other law-makers in the session of the centennial year, and enjoyed it. For I found many good men and learned gentlemen not a few. And was honored by being placed at the head of the education committee and placed on two or three other committees also. Among the many votes and things I did, I shall always remember with pleasure and pride one. I was one of the six first to case a vote for the first temperance resolutions. I have lived to see temperance prevail and the saloons to go. The above is briefly the political paragraph of my life story and I am willing that it may go up to the Judge of all the earth.

While in Topeka I found but one family who were simply disciples of Christ, but the Baptist disciples of Christ invited me to preach in their house which stood near the Capitol building. Neither the church building nor the Capitol building was completed at that time.

At the close of the legislature a free excursion to the Rocky Mountains was offered to all the members, but I declined to go, for I was anxious to go home to a loved wife and four little boys whose names I remember were Harry, Paul, Otho and Wiley. I always was a great lover of home. The way it turned out I was truly glad that I did not go to the excursion, for at that time, on the 27th day of March, 1876, there fell the greatest snow-storm I ever saw in all my life. And the excursionists were s...o...b..und in the Rocky Mountains many days. Here in Kansas the snow drifted, in many places, from fifteen to twenty feet deep, and it was almost May before the roads were pa.s.sable to the city of Atchison, and many other places.

On the 21st day of this snowy month of March my youngest sister, Mrs.

Charlotte Ann Sears departed this life, at her home near Logan, Kansas, aged 34 years, 9 months and 18 days. She was the sister playmate of my childhood days, being about three years younger than I. Years afterwards I visited her grave in the cemetery near Logan and the next day preached in the church building of the town, on the Christian's Hope. This was the third death of my father's family, counting father himself.

I was the first to preach at Whiting, preaching in a large upper room, until the disciples who had been called together built a house, and dedicated it to G.o.d. In this house, I continued to preach. That house stands unto this day and the disciples still worship there.

Among the many that were there then whom I remember favorably and with pleasure remain but few, among them the efficient and scholarly Dr. Woodell. But the Doctor now, like the writer of these lines, is old and near the end.

Goffs too, was another place where I was the first to preach, beginning in the school house and ending in a new church building, where the disciples worship unto this day. The pleasant recollection of the names of Brockman, Springer and others will always be a.s.sociated with my remembrances at Goffs. It is said that we never forget anything. I believe this only in part. I think the bad will be forgotten while the good will be remembered forever. Even the good Lord has promised that he will remember our sins no more. So I think He will let us forget the bad forever.

So, too, Pleasant Grove, a country church just south of Effingham one of the best country churches I ever knew, is where I preached from the beginning, (I mean my beginning in Kansas) regularly for many years. It was in the spring of 1868 that two brothers, John and Jacob Graves, of Pleasant Grove came to Round Prairie where I was teaching and preaching to hear me, and invited me to Pleasant Grove.

I never found a better preacher's home then the home of Jacob Graves.

Good man, he has gone to this reward in the skies. Brother John Graves still lives and stands among the first on the list of my old friends, and in the estimation of all as one of the best men in the world.

When I think of the fellowship, the kindness, the friendship and the love of the disciples of Christ, I think and know that His Christianity is the best thing in the world, and the only thing, as an organization, that is absolutely necessary for a man to join. In an early period of the church in Atchison I frequently preached in a small upper room which would seat about 50 people. This hall was furnished us free by Gen. W. W. Guthrie.

I remember being in the city one day and remained until evening to see the fireworks. As I was going down town I met a man who said to me, "Brother, where are you going." I told him. He said, "Well, you turn around and go with me to prayer meeting, and then we will have time to see the fireworks." I asked, "Where is the prayer meeting?"

The answer was, "In the little upper room where you have preached. I turned around and went, and I still think it is a good thing to do-- to turn around and go to prayer meeting. When we got to the place of prayer, the minister, M. P. Hayden and three women were there. With our augmentation there were, in all, six. But we felt, before the service was over, that another was present, even He who said, "When two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them."

Atchison has a congregation now of a hundred times six. Some of whom are my children in the gospel. I always fell especially proud of John A. Fletcher and his wife because they are so good, and because I taught them their letters, baptized them, and married them. This was at Farmington. And many others at Farmington were mine by teaching, preaching, marrying and burying. I lived, taught and preached longer at Farmington than any other place. I had in one family seven weddings, and almost as many funerals. Over in the Pleasant Grove neighborhood I had nine wedding in one family. Some, of whom at this time, are my door neighbors and seem like my own children.

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C H A P T E R S E V E N T E E N

T. B. McCleary. 1888 Sunday schools. Giants. Deaths. John.

Elizabeth. Effingham, 3-1-1885. A fire.

That man I met going to prayer meeting was J. B. McCleary, with whom I am at the present time a.s.sociated in the Eldership of the church at Effingham. We have known each other all these years since. Brother McCleary is my senior exactly nine years to a day. For many years we have been eating birth-day dinners together, first at his house and then at mine, until his good wife died. Since then we have always tried to have brother Mc. To eat with us. And my good wife has for nearly forty years prepared a chicken pie for my birthday dinner.

The year 1888 brought to both me and my dear wife a weight of sadness. My good old mother pa.s.sed away from the home of here youngest son in Harper County at the advanced age of four score years, two months, and twenty-six days.

Zettie's beloved father departed this life at the age of three score and two years, seven months and ten days, from his home one mile east of Farmington. Why sadness? These loved parents had lived to good old ages. Aha! This sadness will work out for us an eternal weight of gladness someday.

The story of my life would not be complete if I did not add the part I have taken in the general or union Sunday School work of Atchison Co. The Atchison Country Sunday School Union a.s.sociation was organized at Muscotah in the year 1870. I was present. This a.s.sociation has held an annual Convention each year since its organization and I have missed but two meetings. No one has been more faithful in attendance than that. Then with few exceptions I have always had a place on the programs. For five terms, or years I was secretary and for two, president. But, for leadership and faithful, untiring service in this great work, the need of praise must go to Issac Maris of the Seventh day lane. In all the work of the Bible Schools of this country I have always felt, during these four decades, that it was an honor t try to stand as a second to Issac Maris is a friend. In all my life's labor as a Sunday School worker I have a.s.sociated with no one so long and pleasantly as a coworker as Isaac Maris.

I must tell you just one instance of our lives. Mr. Maris is two years older than I am, and two inches taller, he being 6 feet, 4 inches and I 6 feet and 2 inches. Well, brother Maris and I attended together a district Sunday School Convention in the city of Horton.

The first evening was the children's hour. Many children were there, seated on the front seats of the large hall. E. O. Excell was leading the children in song. Brother Maris and I were seated just behind the children when one little fellow was overhead to say to another, referring to us, "Who am them two big fellows?" His seat-mate replied, "Don't you know them fellows? They are two Sunday School giants from Atchison country." We took that and still take it as a great compliment.

In the fall of 1891 the sad intelligence came to me from Indiana that my brother John A. Hastings was dead. At his death he was fifty-nine years and fourteen days old. Brother was a good man, a devout Christian. Of his family still living there are one daughter and three sons, all n.o.ble, Christian citizens of Washington, Indiana.

One of the boys is a newspaper publisher, the other two are able lawyers.

A few years later my oldest sister Nancy Elizabeth who lived in Oregon, pa.s.sed away at the age of 62 years, 2 months and 10 days. Of her family only one son, Reuben Edgar Peyton is living. He lives at Peyton, Oregon. At this writing I have only two brothers left. One, Henry, about ten years my senior, the other, Rufus, about ten years my junior.