Talk:Scopes trial/Butler Act

New York Times, 18 July 1925, page 1.

AUTHOR OF THE LAW SURPRISED AT FUSS John Washington Butler Thought All "Right-Thinking" Men Believed the Believed the Bible. THE CALMEST MAN IN COURT Regrets Barring Scientists, Declaring Evidence Would Be a "Right Smart" Education.

Special to the New York Times

DAYTON, Tenn., July 17.—There was only one calm man in the Dayton Court House today when Judge Raulston ruled, first, that scientific evidence could not be presented to the jury, and then that the theory of the defense that evolution does not contradict the Bible must be presented in affidavits. That man was John Washington Butler, the Macon County farmer who introduced in the Tennessee Legislature last March the bill which has become the law which caused it all.

There was a tense excitement in the court, the Fundamentalists flushed with triumph and the Modernists filled with chagrin. The crowd pressed forward, jumped on chairs and strained eyes and ears for every movement behind the bar. But Mr. Butler remained in his seat, his big-boned body still, his Indian brown face impassive, his eyes expressionless.

Would Like to Hear the Evidence.

"I'm sorry," he said later, "that the Judge wouldn't let the evidence go before the jury. I reckon he was right in holding, as he did, that the issue was only on whether the law was violated. But it seemed to me like there was some sense in what the defense was arguing, that they had a right to show that the theory of evolution didn't conflict with the Bible.

"I'd like to have heard the evidence. It would have been right smart of an education to hear those fellows who have studied the subject.

"No, I wouldn't be afraid to let the evidence come in. The prosecution could have put in evidence, too, and then everybody would have known the truth. There's no call for being afraid of the truth. I believe my Bible is right on every page, but if anybody can show me it isn't exactly the way I believe, I'm willing to listen."

And all the discussion, amusement and bitterness which this trial aroused has not made John Washington Butler regret he introduced the bill.

"If I had it to do all over again," he said, "I'd have introduced it two years earlier than I did—in my first term in the Legislature.

"No, I didn't know anything about evolution when I introduced it. I'd read in the papers that boys and girls were coming home from school and telling their fathers and mother that the Bible was all nonsense."

Minister Gave Him the Idea.

"I didn't think that was right, and then the Rev. W. L. Murray of Nashville, who comes to preach once a month at our church in Lafayette, the Primitive Baptist Church, came over one Sunday and preached a sermon saying the teaching of evolution in the schools ought to be stopped because it was attacking religion.

"I had it printed in my circulars announcing I was a candidate for re-election that I would introduce a bill to stop the teaching of evolution.

"A graduate of Vanderbilt University ran against me, the smartest man in the county. I wouldn't have run against him if he had come out earlier: I wanted him to run, but he refused at first and didn't announce himself until after my circulars were out, and I couldn't withdraw. He didn't mention evolution in his speeches. I was elected 10 to 1, and he sold his farm at auction. It was the best farm in the county, worth $50,000, but he didn't get but $37,500 for it, and he went to Memphis to live. I was right sorry to see him go. He had never made any money out of his farm, but he knew just about everything and could set a bone as good as a doctor."

Mr. Butler has had four years of schooling and is deeply religious, but there is nothing of the bigot in his manner. He speaks quietly, with a simplicity and without the suggestion that he considers his belief in the Bible the only creditable belief. Instead, his manner suggests that he had considered his belief the one held by all "right-thinking" men and that it had never occurred to him that there could be many who were not "right thinking."

"I never had any idea," he continued, "my bill would make a fuss. I just thought it would become a law and that everybody would abide by it and that we wouldn't hear any more of evolution in Tennessee."