[Sam Davis, The Parish Primaries, The Californian, May 1881]

 

THE PARISH PRIMARIES.      449

 

THE PARISH PRIMARIES.

            Rev. John Ellis was the Rector of St. Paul's Church at Newhall, California. This old gentleman had an abiding confidence in his fellow-men which amounted to a weakness, and a hatred of politics which amounted to a mania.

            To his theological mind election day was a dreadful visitation of hell, and he would as soon have thought of eloping with the leading soprano of his choir as of exercising his rights as an American citizen and voting even at the county election for a school trustee.

            With all these peculiarities of early education and training, the old gentleman was thoroughly honest in his views, and did not hesitate to openly proclaim them from the pulpit. Still, his blunt remarks on these subjects did not in the least offend those of his congregation who held opposite views.

450      THE CALIFORNIAN.

            Other agencies were at work, however, which made him unpopular with a parish over which he had presided faithfully for fifteen years.

            Rev. Mr. Ellis had somehow got to be too commonplace for Newhall. His flock began to get wearied of his discourses, although not one in twenty could have repeated a single one of his texts, of which he had at least thirty. To them the bread of life which he had administered that he might keep his own larder stocked began to have a moldy smell. In short, it was time that a fresh hand was at the helm.

            A number of busy-bodies who had determined on his going set about the work of undermining his character in the most business-like manner possible.

            One day he performed the funeral rites for a poor outcast woman, and went so far as to express the opinion, as he stood over her coffin, that beneath the sheltering arms of Christ there was still room for the soul of the departed. This expression of confidence in the infinite forgiveness of God went through half a dozen mouths, and presently passed current to the effect that the Rector considered the outcast a good deal more likely to be saved than a large majority of women in his own parish. So the wretched mongers of scandal mined and sapped the character of the poor man until the whole structure was ready to fall to pieces at a touch. While pouring hot shot at the world, the flesh, and the devil, he little realized that his worst enemies were in his own camp.

            It was determined at the annual Easter election to request Mr. Ellis to resign.

            There happened to live in the town of Newhall a politician named Seth Johnson, by common consent called "Boss Johnson," by reason of his generally acknowledged ability to connubiate in politics and successfully conduct the ceremonies incidental to the primary elections. His "slate factory" was an establishment which inspired respect, and the wares he turned out, either for city or county purposes, were "hard to smash."

            Johnson had a habit of keeping an eye and ear open to the drift of passing events, and the job to oust the Rector of St. Paul's had not escaped his notice. Like the Melter Moss of stage tradition, he loved to be able to spoil somebody's little game. The idea of taking an active hand in a church election had a novelty about it that pleased Johnson mightily, and he rubbed his hands together at the prospect of such diversion. The regular county election would not come off for a year yet, and he must do something to keep his hand in.

            Having made up his mind, he proceeded immediately to business according to his usual custom, and went straight to the Rector's studio. When Rev. Mr. Ellis opened his door in response to the ring, and saw the hardened and disreputable politician, he was at first overcome with astonishment, but recovered sufficiently to invite him in, supposing that perhaps a funeral was on the tapis. There was probably no man in the town toward whom the Rector of St. Paul's entertained a more deeply rooted dislike than Boss Johnson, not realizing that politicians, like preachers, are apt to be foully slandered and that reputations are more artificial than real.

            After opening the ball with a few preliminary remarks on the prospect of rain before morning, the "Boss" proceeded directly to the business in hand.

            "Mr. Ellis, I think some of joining your church, and as I am not much acquainted with the organization, I thought I'd just step in and gather some information on the subject."

            The Rector was almost dazed by the frank and outspoken utterance of Mr. Johnson.

            "The door of the tabernacle is always open, and the vilest sinner may enter."

            "You will understand, perhaps, that I haven't been much of a religious man of late years, but I have a family. My wife likes your church, and I want to send my little girls to Sunday-school."

            "A very commendable procedure, Mr. Johnson, I am sure. The church alone can furnish them with the consolation of true religion."

            "My idea exactly. Now, if I join your party —that is, your church—and subscribe to the constitution and by-laws, will that make me eligible?"

            "Do you wish to become a full member by the rites of baptism and confirmation?"

            "Don't you let a man come in on trial for a year or so—let him sort o' feel his way? Can't I just take a pew and listen to the sermons? Can't I vote at the church elections unless I hold all the degrees?"

            "Ah, in that case any man who pays his pew rent can vote at the Easter election."

            At this information the eye of the Boss brightened, and he began to see his way ahead.

            "I don't want to do things with a rush, Mr. Ellis. I'll just take a pew for a starter, and go a little slow at first until I get confidence in the game. That'll do me for the first year. I've always been in the habit of having a little something to say in the management of any organization I'm connected with. I like to feel that I have a hand—a little of the 'say so,' as it were."

            "I am glad to see you take such a commendable interest in the affairs of the parish. I never like to see men lukewarm in the service."

THE PARISH PRIMARIES.      451

            "Perhaps I can induce some more of the boys to join the ranks. Just let me know the charges on some of your second-class pews. We'll put up with a few back-seats for a spell. We don't want to crowd ourselves to the front, you know."

            "People are not obliged to pay for the lower pews at all, but any contributions will be acceptable."

            "All these contributors vote at the regular election, Mr. Ellis ?"

            "All vote who wish, Mr. Johnson."

            "When do the primaries come off?"

            "Eh?"

            "That is, the election?"

            "In two weeks. It is only a formality. Of course, there is no opposition. I am elected year after year by a unanimous vote. We have none of the fierce, and I may say unseemly, struggles which characterize your political elections. Heaven forbid that the church should ever be disgraced by such unchristian strife ! The unscrupulous connubiations of worldly politics never find a footing in the tabernacle of the Lord."

            The Boss smiled a broad and continuous smile at this speech, and put down a ten-dollar piece for his pew, after which he bade his new spiritual guide good evening, and as he left was shaken warmly by the hand.

            Inside of half an hour, Boss Johnson was closeted with a half dozen of his political henchmen in the private card-room of Jack's Exchange, and there outlined his plan to his astonished listeners for capturing the election of St. Paul's Church, and running the parochial machinery "their way." The shout of laughter which greeted the proposal can well be imagined. The idea tickled the fancies of these men immensely.

            "Let's don't bother with the selection, Boss. Turn loose the sack and buy up a majority of the vestry ; that's the business," said one of the group, to whom Johnson always intrusted the placing of money where its fruits would assume tangible shape.

            "No corruption, Billy. This is a church election, and the vestry come high—awful high."

            It was finally decided that twenty men should take pews in the church, pay their slip-rent, and vote at the Easter election, Johnson furnishing the necessary coin.

            On the following Sunday, the worthy pastor was astonished to see such an influx of the "worldly" element come to hear him preach, and delighted with the marked attention paid to his discourse. On the following Saturday evening the election took place in the church. The opposers of the Rector were out in full force, and confident of being able to "oust the present administrator." The Johnson crowd were also there "well bearded," except one, who had been wounded in a scrimmage over a mining claim, but he sent a proxy in due form.

            After the leader of the ousting faction made the vestry nominations, Mr. Johnson rose, and, in a solemn voice, as if addressing a county convention, said :

            "Gentlemen, I rise to place in nomination five men, whose course in standing pat with the regular straight ticket has always been the one prime object of their lives. They have always bowed to the deliberations of the caucus, and never voted but one ticket since they were —baptized. They never bucked or kicked, gentlemen. I mean that whatever was the result of good square work, and had the stamp of the church's approval on its face, was current coin with them. We propose to organize this church on the solid foundation of free speech, a fair ballot, and good will to men. I may have slightly digressed from some of the points in issue, but you all know what I mean. We will, after choosing our leader and officers for the ensuing year, fall to work with a will, and plant the banners of the true faith on the outer walls of every sect that grows. I think that if we pull together this year we can run the Presbyterians out of the burg by next fall, and close up the mortgage on the old Methodist Theology Works by Christmas."

            Quelling the symptoms of applause, which seemed about to come from his forces, Johnson made his vestry nominations, and when the ballot was taken elected them by twelve majority. He then took the chair, declared the proceedings unanimous, reelected the old pastor by a viva voce vote, and raised his salary by the same course—all inside of five minutes. The astonishment of Mr. Ellis was equaled only by the chagrin of his enemies, who had so signally failed in carrying their plans into effect.

            After this little episode, there was naturally enough somewhat of a falling off in attendance among the politicians who had temporarily joined St. Paul's; but Johnson took a profound interest in the affairs of the church, finally becoming a vestryman, and one of the most active members of the flock. He so continued until the death of the Rector, and, although he held the good man's memory in the deepest reverence, neither this nor the services of the church ever had sufficient effect upon him to wean him from the habits of worldliness ; and to this day he delights to pack a primary or put up a combination to capture a county convention as of old, not neglecting to take an active part in the parish elections.

452      THE CALIFORNIAN.

            For the last seven years he never failed to have the vestry his way, and, according to the more generally accepted theory, he will continue to maintain his control as long as the parish shall exist. He thinks that as he advances in years, and retires from the turmoil and excitement of active political life, he will find the annual church election sufficiently exhilarating to afford the pastime which his spirit craves.

SAM DAVIS.