u
have _surmised_ that he will show some resentment at the
ruffianism of a Kansas mob, with which you seem to
sympathize.

Since I came into Illinois I have steadily declined to
make any statement of this affair in any public address.
Still it is perhaps due to the world to know some
additional facts. How the mob deliberated among themselves
. . .

I have never yet made war on Judge Douglas. It is true
that the Missouri Compromise, being a time-honored
covenant of peace between North and South, I would much
rather it had been suffered to remain; but now I am rather
indignant at the clear and palpable violation of the
principles of the Kansas-Nebraska bill, in the attempt
made by border ruffians to drive out peaceable citizens
from the free States. I am still more indignant that a
Northern editor can be found to wink at such flagrant and
unquestionable wrong. Judge Douglas may well exclaim,
"Save me from my friends!"

Perhaps, upon reflection, you may be convinced of three
things: First, that I am not a fanatic, and have not
deserved the treatment I have received; second, that your
friends may be trusted not to create any disturbance at my
meetings; and, third, that instead of seeking to stir up
against me the prejudices of ignorant partisans, you may
safely devote yourselves to the more honorable employment
of seeking to restore in our unhappy country the supremacy
of law. Very faithfully,

PARDEE BUTLER.
RUSHVILLE, Sept. 11, 1855.

The final result was much more favorable than could have been expected,
and the brethren gave me an invitation to remain with them through the
winter.

I tarried six weeks in Illinois, and then returned to Kansas with Mrs.
Butler and our two children, of whom the eldest is now Mrs. Rosetta B.
Hastings. Milo Carleton had already reached the Territory, direct from
the Western Reserve, Ohio. He was Mrs. Butler's brother, and it was
determined that the two families should spend the winter together, while
I should return to Illinois.

We will now pause in our personal narrative and tell what had been going
on the preceding summer in other parts of the Territory. A delegate
convention had been called by the free State men to meet during the
preceding September at a place called Big Springs, on the Santa Fe
trail, midway between Lawrence and Topeka. Here the free State men
agreed on a plan, to which they steadily adhered through all the
sickening horrors that gave to "bleeding" Ka