W. B. Godbey - Enter His Rest
W. B. Godbey - Enter His Rest
W. B. Godbey - Enter His Rest
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he would better follow my advice, saying to him, If you go into this business, you will not succeed. You will<br />
lose your money and be sorry for it when it is too late; you will get into trouble which you do not expect, and<br />
fortune's wheel will certainly revolve against you.” Suffice it to say he gave up his enterprise and went into an<br />
honest employment.<br />
When I was presiding elder thirty-three years ago and found illegal distilleries operating extensively in my<br />
district, as the government licenses were so costly that they were not able to run a registered distillery I went to<br />
work to rid the country of these nuisances. When I was presiding over the Quarterly Conference in Whitesburg,<br />
the county-seat of Letcher Co. and asked the brethren: they told me that there were twenty three illegal<br />
distilleries operating in that county. I said, “Brethren, why do you not notify the government officers so that they<br />
will break them all up as they will certainly do in that case.” They responded, “We dare not do anything of the<br />
kind lest they kill us, for they boldly proclaim that will shoot any man who informs on them. Then as presiding<br />
elder of that district, I felt it my duty to notify the government officers and appeal to them to rid our county of<br />
the awful curse. Consequently I said to the brethren, “I shall certainly report them!” They begged me not to do it<br />
for they did believe those men would kill me. At that time there were no railroads in that mountainous country<br />
and I did all of my traveling on horseback. It was very common for men to be shot by concealed assassins as<br />
they rode through the mountains. That was so early after the Civil War that those feuds which so long survived<br />
in that country were still there. I proceeded at once to write an open letter to the “Mountain Echo,” which was<br />
published in that country, in which I stated that those twenty-three illegal distilleries were operating, much to the<br />
demoralization of the whole country, and that we appealed to the Government to come and take them out. This<br />
letter was quoted by the papers throughout the state, producing a general sensation. But the government nobly<br />
responded, sending soldiers and breaking up all those “moonshine distilleries.” My friends were much excited<br />
for my safety, believing that those men would kill me. They did shoot one of my local preachers in an adjoining<br />
county, while I was in the county, by the hand of a concealed assassin. I had signed my name to the letter I wrote<br />
appealing to the government. This was necessary, as an anonymous one would have imperiled innocent parties,<br />
involving them in jeopardy. Despite the remonstrances of my friends, I went along without missing a single<br />
appointment, solitary and alone, into all of those regions, despite their overt and vociferous threats. Not only<br />
were those whiskey nuisances broken up, but we had glorious, sweeping revivals all over my district, actually<br />
resulting in doubling my membership during my quadrennium.<br />
My last pastoral charge before the bishop got me into evangelistic work for life, was at Carlyle, Nicholas Co.<br />
The Ministerial Temperance Association in that State appointed me superintendent of the force in that county. I<br />
was there three years, meanwhile we organized and pressed the battle in all parts of the county, establishing<br />
local option in every district, except the county-seat. There the whiskey men bought the colored vote and beat us<br />
for a time. One day I was in a large drygoods store, kept by Brothers Mann & Kennedy, both Methodist<br />
preachers, when looking out I saw a fine-looking man riding a splendid horse. Then Brother Mann said to me,<br />
“There comes Captain Buckler, the leader of the whiskey party, worth a hundred thousand dollars, which he has<br />
made on whiskey. He has now thirty thousand dollars' worth in his warehouse, keeping it till it gets old and will<br />
bear a high price.” I said, “Please introduce me to him.” He very politely returned the introduction. I told him<br />
when and where, the Lord willing, I would preach and invited him to come to the meeting, and he promised me<br />
that he would. He lived in the country four miles distant, on a splendid blue-grass farm.<br />
I had a church in that neighborhood. I found him in my congregation quite regularly, as his wife was a member<br />
and he kindly accompanied her. Eventually he invited me to go home with him from a night service. I preached<br />
to him faithfully as we rode side by side along the nice turnpike. Next morning I was sitting in the family room<br />
before I started to meeting and he came and dropped a five dollar bill in my hand, observing, “I am not in the<br />
habit of giving any money to the preachers, but will be obliged if you will take this,” which I did with many<br />
thanks, then turning away, at once looking back he dropped another five dollar bill into my hand. It was not long<br />
till he presented himself as a seeker of salvation and continued in that attitude quite awhile; then during the altar<br />
service in the midst of a glorious revival in the town church, he got up and there boldly testified to personal<br />
salvation, to the delectation [pleasure – DVM] of the large audience who crowded round, joyfully congratulating<br />
him. Of course he utterly went out of the whiskey business, not only falling in with the temperance army but<br />
prophesying that the Prohibition Movement would continue till it swept alcohol from the nation. God in mercy