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” Kansas a world-wide and thankless notoriety.  They resolved that they would not in any way, shape or manner, recognize the legality of this so-called Territorial Legislature, nor the machinery it should call into being for the government of the Territory.  They would bring no suits in its courts; they would attend no elections called by its authority; they would pay no attention to its county organizations; and yet, as far as in them lay, they would do no act that might make them liable to the penalty of its laws.  In short, they would be like the Quaker, who, when drafted into the army, replies:  “Thee-must not expect me to fight with carnal weapons;” and when amerced in a fine for non-compliance with the laws, makes the reply, “Thee must not expect me to pay money for such carnal uses, but thee can take my property.”  Nevertheless, there was superadded to these peaceful resolutions an un-Quaker-like intimation that under certain contingencies they would fight.