John Martin, a lawyer, resident in Topeka, is a solid, sensible and honest man.  His brethren of the Democratic persuasion wanted to make him a candidate for Governor, but because they would not insert in their platform a plank affirming that the law—­because it was the law—­ought to be enforced, he declined to accept the nomination, and Geo. W. Glick was nominated and elected.  Then Mr. Glick, to reciprocate this courtesy, appointed Martin to a vacant judgeship in the Topeka judicial district; and a whisky case came before Judge Martin.  The principal witness undertook to play the usual dodge of perjury and equivocation, but Judge Martin stopped the witness and said:  “Sir, you are to tell whether the liquor you bought was whisky.”

The witness again began to repeat his story of equivocation:  “Well, I called for cold tea, and I suppose I got what I called for.”

“Stop!” said the Judge in a voice of thunder.  “This witness is lying!  Sheriff, take the witness and lock him up in jail.”

The Sheriff had got as far as the door when the witness called out:  “Judge, are you going to lock me up?”

“Yes, and I will keep you there till you rot unless you tell the truth.”

“Well, I will tell.”

The witness was placed again in the witness box.  “Now,” said the Judge, “was it whisky you bought of this saloonkeeper?”

“Yes, it was whisky.”

The example of Judge Martin was imitated by all the courts, and incredible sums of money have been collected as fines from the saloonkeepers, who, with the brewers, fought the battle to the bitter end, and appealed their cases to the Supreme Court of the United States.  But it has ended in their absolute defeat, and even these gentlemen do now admit that prohibition does prohibit—­in Kansas.  Since that time the law has been greatly amended, and the saloons have been driven out of the State.

One evil yet remains.  Just across the Missouri River from Atchison is East Atchison, and here whisky and beer are as free as water.  Of course, this is a great calamity to us, but we wait in expectation and hope that prohibition will yet be achieved in Missouri.

John A. Brooks lives in Missouri; we live in Kansas.  This man was once a rebel; we were loyal men.  Yet we pray the Father of Mercies to spare the life of this man, to prosper him and keep him, until he shall achieve this great good, not only to Missouri, but to ourselves.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

This reformation in the rapidity of its growth is without parallel in the history of Protestant parties.  Those acquainted with its history need not be told that a large number of its members were at first drawn from the Baptists.  It is indeed a matter of wonder that a Presbyterian minister, but a short time identified with the Baptists, should exert such an influence over them as to induce a great multitude of