The Use and Need of the Life of Carrie A. Nation [42]
ridiculed and my work was called "meddler"
"crazy," was pointed at as a fanatic. I spent much time in tears,
prayer and fasting. While not a Roman Catholic, I have practiced abstinence
from meat on Friday, for Christ suffered on that day, and 'tis well
for us to suffer. I also use the sign of the cross, for it is medicine to
the soul to be reminded of His sufferings. Jesus left us the communion
of bread and wine that we might remember His passion. I would also
fast days at a time. One day I was so sad; I opened the Bible with a
prayer for light, and saw these words: "Arise, shine, for thy light is
come and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee." These words gave
me unbounded delight.
I ran to a sister and said: "There is to be a change in my life."
On the 6th of June, before retiring, as I often did, I threw myself face
downward at the foot of my bed and told the Lord to use me any way to
suppress the dreadful curse of liquor; that He had ways to do it, that I
had done all I knew, that the wicked had conspired to take from us the
protection of homes in Kansas; to kill our children and break our hearts.
I told Him I wished I had a thousand lives, that I would give Him all
of them, and wanted Him to make it known to me, some way. The next
morning, before I awoke, I heard these words very distinctly: "Go to
Kiowa, and" (as in a vision and here my hands were lifted and cast down
suddenly.) "I'll stand by you." I did not hear these words as other
words; there was no voice, but they seemed to be spoken in my heart. I
sprang from my bed as if electrified, and knew this was directions given
me, for I understood that it was God's will for me to go to Kiowa to
break, or smash the saloons. I was so glad, that I hardly looked in the
face of anyone that day, for fear they would read my thoughts, and do
something to prevent me. I told no one of my plans, for I felt that no
one would understand, if I should.
I got a box that would fit under my buggy seat, and every time I
thought no one would see me, I went out in the yard and picked up
some brick-bats, for rocks are scarce around Medicine Lodge, and I wrapped
them up in newspapers to pack in the box under my buggy seat. I
also had four bottles I had bought from Southworth, the druggist, with
"Schlitz-Malt" in them, which I used to smash with. I bought two kinds
of this malt and I opened one bottle and found it to be beer. I was going
to use these bottles of beer to convict this wiley joint-druggist.
One of the bottles I took to a W. C. T. U. meeting, and in the presence
of the ladies I opened it and drank the contents. Then I had two of
them to take me down to a Doctor's office. I fell limp on the sofa and
said: "Doctor, what is the matter with me?"
He looked at my eyes, felt my heart and pulse, shook his head and
looked grave.
I said: "Am I poisoned or in an abnormal state?"
"Yes, said the Doctor." I said: "What poisoned me is that beer
you recommended Bro. ---- to take as a tonic." I resorted to this
stratagem, to show the effect that beer has upon the system. This Doctor
was a kind man and meant well, but it must have been ignorance that
made him say beer could ever be used as a medicine.
There was another, Dr. Kocile, in Medicine Lodge who used to sell
all the whiskey he could. He made a drunkard of a very prominent
woman of the town, who took the Keely cure. She told the W. C. T. U.
of the villainy of this doctor and she could not have hated anyone more.
Oh! the drunkards the doctors are making! No physician, who is
worthy of the name will prescribe it as a medicine, for there is not one
medical quality in alcohol. It kills the living and preserves the dead.
Never preserves anything but death. It is made by a rotting process and
it rots the brain, body and soul; it paralyzes the vascular circulation and
increases the action of the heart. This is friction and friction in any
machinery is dangerous, and the cure is not hastened but delayed.
I have given space in this book to one of the most scientific
"crazy," was pointed at as a fanatic. I spent much time in tears,
prayer and fasting. While not a Roman Catholic, I have practiced abstinence
from meat on Friday, for Christ suffered on that day, and 'tis well
for us to suffer. I also use the sign of the cross, for it is medicine to
the soul to be reminded of His sufferings. Jesus left us the communion
of bread and wine that we might remember His passion. I would also
fast days at a time. One day I was so sad; I opened the Bible with a
prayer for light, and saw these words: "Arise, shine, for thy light is
come and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee." These words gave
me unbounded delight.
I ran to a sister and said: "There is to be a change in my life."
On the 6th of June, before retiring, as I often did, I threw myself face
downward at the foot of my bed and told the Lord to use me any way to
suppress the dreadful curse of liquor; that He had ways to do it, that I
had done all I knew, that the wicked had conspired to take from us the
protection of homes in Kansas; to kill our children and break our hearts.
I told Him I wished I had a thousand lives, that I would give Him all
of them, and wanted Him to make it known to me, some way. The next
morning, before I awoke, I heard these words very distinctly: "Go to
Kiowa, and" (as in a vision and here my hands were lifted and cast down
suddenly.) "I'll stand by you." I did not hear these words as other
words; there was no voice, but they seemed to be spoken in my heart. I
sprang from my bed as if electrified, and knew this was directions given
me, for I understood that it was God's will for me to go to Kiowa to
break, or smash the saloons. I was so glad, that I hardly looked in the
face of anyone that day, for fear they would read my thoughts, and do
something to prevent me. I told no one of my plans, for I felt that no
one would understand, if I should.
I got a box that would fit under my buggy seat, and every time I
thought no one would see me, I went out in the yard and picked up
some brick-bats, for rocks are scarce around Medicine Lodge, and I wrapped
them up in newspapers to pack in the box under my buggy seat. I
also had four bottles I had bought from Southworth, the druggist, with
"Schlitz-Malt" in them, which I used to smash with. I bought two kinds
of this malt and I opened one bottle and found it to be beer. I was going
to use these bottles of beer to convict this wiley joint-druggist.
One of the bottles I took to a W. C. T. U. meeting, and in the presence
of the ladies I opened it and drank the contents. Then I had two of
them to take me down to a Doctor's office. I fell limp on the sofa and
said: "Doctor, what is the matter with me?"
He looked at my eyes, felt my heart and pulse, shook his head and
looked grave.
I said: "Am I poisoned or in an abnormal state?"
"Yes, said the Doctor." I said: "What poisoned me is that beer
you recommended Bro. ---- to take as a tonic." I resorted to this
stratagem, to show the effect that beer has upon the system. This Doctor
was a kind man and meant well, but it must have been ignorance that
made him say beer could ever be used as a medicine.
There was another, Dr. Kocile, in Medicine Lodge who used to sell
all the whiskey he could. He made a drunkard of a very prominent
woman of the town, who took the Keely cure. She told the W. C. T. U.
of the villainy of this doctor and she could not have hated anyone more.
Oh! the drunkards the doctors are making! No physician, who is
worthy of the name will prescribe it as a medicine, for there is not one
medical quality in alcohol. It kills the living and preserves the dead.
Never preserves anything but death. It is made by a rotting process and
it rots the brain, body and soul; it paralyzes the vascular circulation and
increases the action of the heart. This is friction and friction in any
machinery is dangerous, and the cure is not hastened but delayed.
I have given space in this book to one of the most scientific