An Interesting Mass-Meeting in Maine by C. S. Longacre

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Apr 29, 1909

An Interesting Mass-Meeting in Maine

By C. S. Longacre

[One of the most interesting experiences of the year in attacking the evils of Sunday legislation took place in Sanford, Maine, Sunday evening, April 18. The following account is taken from a personal letter from Elder C. S. Longacre. Although not written for publication, it presents a most interesting report of the crusade.—K. C. R.]

I HAVE just returned from Sanford, Maine, where I attended the most interesting and successful mass-meeting in all my experience. In that town, with a population of seven thousand, a most bitter Sunday-law crusade has been carried on for several weeks by the Christian Civic League of Maine. Everything was shut up. No one could sell cigars, drugs, newspapers, or anything else. The business men defied the law. The leading druggist was arrested, tried, and fined. The trial took place last Friday. He refused to pay the fine and costs, and appealed his case to a higher court. Most of the business men were lined up against the clergy and the Civic League. The town was divided, and the people were terribly wrought up over the matter. The churches were divided on the issue also.

Brother W. O. Howe, the secretary of the Religious Liberty Department of the conference, sent Brother J. W. Whitney, the State agent of Maine, to the town just at this interesting juncture, to sell Liberty, and see what could be done to offset the movement. He went to the druggist who was arrested, and gave him a copy of Liberty. The druggist looked it over, and at a glance saw what its object was.

“How did you happen to be here just now?” he asked. “I was sent here,” Brother Whitney replied. The druggist continued: “I am so glad you came. I wish we could get some one to come here to hold a big meeting, and hit this thing hard. I would gladly bear all the expenses myself.” Brother Whitney replied, “If you will bear the expense, I will furnish somebody to come.” He said, “I will pledge fifty dollars right now, and others will help. If you secure somebody, we will get the new town hall and furnish music and do all the advertising and pay all the traveling expenses and hotel bills, so that it will not cost your people a cent.”

They at once engaged me over the telephone, and laid the situation before me, and I promised to go the next Sunday evening to meet the appointment. I went to the Portland church and held a religious liberty rally there on Sabbath, and then left in the evening for Sanford. When I arrived, I was escorted to the Hotel Sanford, where I remained until Monday morning. The leading business men and city officials called upon me, and we had some interesting chats on the imminent situation that was confronting them. They had

advertised the meeting by circulating bills over the whole town, and all the newspapers, even to Portland, gave the mass-meeting a boom. It was said that the Catholic priest announced to his flock that he was going to the mass-meeting, and he wanted all his people to go. One of the Methodist churches made a similar announcement, and all the rest of the preachers wished to be there to see what was going to happen. I saw at once that we were going to have interesting times, and that I had to be discreet in my remarks. I prayed earnestly for more than mortal wisdom to know just how to proceed.

Brother Howe arrived just before the meeting opened, and we introduced ourselves under the auspices of the Religious Liberty Bureau, and Brother Howe acted as chairman.

The citizens had engaged an orchestra which furnished excellent music. The hall had been lately finished in operatic style, and seated fourteen hundred forty, including the gallery. The main part seated one thousand, and this was filled, with the exception of about one hundred seats. It was as fine a hall and audience as I ever faced.

Mr. Cumming, of Portland, spoke first, and gave a short talk on the civil version of Sunday laws. I followed, and spoke for one hour and five minutes. The Lord gave me great freedom in speaking.

Mr. Emery, the field secretary of the Civic League, who was back of the whole movement, and who resides in the town, was sitting near the front, and with him were his whole local committee and the hostile preachers of the city. The lawyers and the judge who prosecuted the case, and the chief detective who did the arresting, were also present. After the meeting, I was told by one of the druggists, who sat by the side of the chief detective, that he heard him ask a policeman, who sat on the other side, while I was making some point: “Do you believe what he says?” “Well,” answered the policeman, “I don’t want to believe it, but he is putting up some mighty tough propositions to us.” The detective then said, “I don’t like to see this thing go on, but I can’t stop it,” and he left his seat and went out. At the conclusion of the address, I read the following:—

“We, the citizens of Sanford, assembled in the new town hall on April 18, 1909, do solemnly declare our convictions by passing the following resolution:—

“Believing that Sunday laws are religious laws, and hence unconstitutional, and contrary to the American idea of free institutions; and,—

“Whereas, There are civil statutes, besides the special legislation for Sunday, that require every man to conduct himself civilly on each and every day of the week, including Sunday, therefore making special legislation for Sunday absolutely unnecessary; and,—

“Whereas, Religious institutions should be advanced only by moral suasion and individual choice and conviction, and not by civil force,—

“Therefore, be it resolved, That this assembly most solemnly protests against Sunday-law crusades and religious persecution, and the enforcement of religious institutions by the civil power under penalties and fines; and that we humbly petition the Maine Legislature to repeal all statutes of a religious character—not that we are hostile to religion and religious institutions, but believing that religion and the state are best served by operating separately instead of jointly.”

This resolution was passed by a rising vote of nine tenths of the audience, and the other one tenth did not dare to rise when the opportunity was granted to express dissent. I was told that the Catholic priest arose. Cries went up from all over the hall: “Rise, boys, rise; don’t be afraid to show your colors.” And they did rise as one man. An associate press reporter came a long distance to report the meeting.

The first Sunday of the Sunday-enforcement crusade, the Boston Sunday papers were all hauled to a barn and locked up. The Boston dailies threatened to send their own men from Boston to sell the papers the next Sunday if the citizens of Sanford were not allowed to sell them. Since then the Civic League has made some concessions.

The business men felt highly gratified over the results of our mass-meeting. They came to the hotel afterward, and said that they were sure the opposition would fear to do anything in the future. They paid all my expenses and the expenses of the meeting, which amounted to over fifty dollars. They were very anxious that I should come again. They promised to do the same for us as they had done this time, and would guarantee a house packed to its fullest capacity.

Brother Whitney said that it was the only topic of conversation in a large restaurant this morning where he took his breakfast, and that they rehearsed many of the points made in the address. He said he heard one man remark: “I felt too lazy last night to go, but my wife went, and she told me this morning what that professor said last night, and I have been kicking myself all the morning for not going.”

I know the Lord heard my earnest prayer and granted us favor. Mr. Brown, the druggist, said that the Catholic priest stated that he was highly pleased, and that he regarded me as the most fair-minded Protestant preacher he had yet heard; that I treated Catholics and Protestants alike, and told the facts just as they were.

I must not forget to mention one more item of interest. At the close of the meeting, as we were walking down the front steps of the hall, a nice-looking man stopped me and said: “I was in the meeting, and I want to ask you a question, and I am asking for information and not out of curiosity. I am the justice of the peace of this town. I have been asked to swear out warrants and afterward to commit these cases that have been prosecuted for a violation of these Sunday laws. I believe every word you said to-night is the truth, but what am I to do now in my position as justice of the peace when they bring cases to my notice in the future?” I cited to him a similar case in Wilkinsburg, Pa., where a justice of the peace had been in the habit of prosecuting similar cases, and after I had shown him these principles, he said, “I will never lower my dignity again by stooping to such a mean work.” And he also said that he would never hear another case on that issue. He thanked me, and said that from that day he would never hear another case for Sunday-law violation; that he would pronounce the whole procedure unconstitutional.