p. 13 | EASTERN TOUR by James White

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 5, 1868

EASTERN TOUR.

By James White

We returned from the Rhode Island meeting to Boston, Monday, Dec. 16, and remained at the good home of sister Temple till the evening of the 17th, when we took the cars for Rochester, N. Y. Sister Temple is returning to the Lord, and sharing his blessing. A tender mother could be no more careful for the wants of her children, than this woman was of ours. May God bless her, and her children, who also treated us with the kindness of brothers and sisters.

As the train was bearing us toward Albany with almost lightning speed, we heard a loud talker in the fore part of the car, speaking in strong terms of Western farming, contrasting its vastness with the limited farming of New England. I felt interested, and went near where this Iowa farmer was addressing some New England gentlemen, in rough, planter style. After listening awhile, I ventured to speak of the farming interests of Michigan. I spoke of the advantages of Michigan above the prairies of the West, in point of lumber, fencing, and wood for fuel.

“In what part of Michigan do you live?” inquired our Iowa farmer.

Battle Creek, sir, was my answer.

“Battle Creek,” said he; “that is where those Hullites live. They have a Health Institute, and one Ellen White is a prophetess among them.”

This man resides near Knoxville, Iowa, where Moses Hull had preached and discussed. With his limited knowledge of Seventh-day Adventists, he calls them Hullites.

“How do they prosper?” he inquired.

About as usual, I think, was my reply. The farmer continued, directing his conversation to me:

“This Ellen White is a daughter of old White, the Mormon. She was with the Mormons at Nauvoo. If we can believe the history of Illinois, there were four leading Mormons who wished to rule. Brigham Young, young Joseph Smith, old White, and another. Old White settled at Battle Creek, Mich., where his daughter Ellen now lives.”

The reader may conclude that this was an interesting item of news to me. The speaker talked loudly, boldly, and with great confidence, because of his coarse nature and his gross ignorance. I did not think it worth a while to correct him, so after he had finished his singular story, I returned to my seat and gave myself up to solemn reflections relative to the vigilance of the Devil in flooding the world with all manner of falsehood concerning the work of God. How painful the fact that the professed ministers of Jesus are most efficient in this scandalous work! From their conduct, common people take liberty to repeat again and again the most silly falsehoods.

At Rochester, we found Bro. Lamson ready to take us to his home. We spent the 18th and 19th with the families of Brn. Lamson and Andrews, with pleasure and profit. This gave me time to converse much with Bro. Andrews upon matters pertaining to the interests of the cause. A general camp-meeting for the State of New York is now contemplated to be holden in July.

Sixth-day, the 20th, we left Rochester for Wellsville, joined by Bro. Samuel Abbey and his sister Hall, the worthy widow of Bro. William Hall, who faithfully and ably acted his part at the Review Office for several years, and now sleeps in Jesus.

As we were nearing Batavia, where we were to change cars for Attica, I stepped out upon the platform, and in an instant the strong wind hurled my hat into a snow-drift. The like misfortune I had never before met. The hat was of but little value; but there I was, five hundred miles from home, among strangers, minus a hat. To go out into the violent snow-storm of that bitter cold morning, bareheaded, was decidedly unfashionable. But on the train there were no hats to be bought or borrowed; so when the train had stopped, we took up our hand baggage and pressed through the crowd to the ladies’ sitting-room. We evidently attracted more than our share of attention. Almost every one we pass usually notices Mrs. W.’s unfashionable style of dress; but the bareheaded man by her side, hastening through the pelting storm, made the scene still more noticeable. At Batavia, we had to wait three hours and a half, in consequence of blocking snows. We went to a hotel for retirement and rest. The landlord loaned me the use of his cap to wear out to the hat store, where I was glad to find one to take the place of the one so unceremoniously hurled from my head.

We returned to the depot some time before the cars left for Attica, and there we saw a poor man terribly afflicted with Saint Vitus’ dance. He was one of the unfortunate soldiers shut up in Libby Prison. While confined in that prison, this disease came upon him. His arms were in violent motion every moment. I took hold of them, and very soon learned that they could not be controlled. His motions were irregular, rapid, violent, perpetual, only when lost in sleep. His poor little girl put drink to his lips, and cheerfully did all she could to help her unfortunate father. Both father and child were poorly covered with rags. I gave this poor sufferer a small sum of money, and Mrs. W. handed him some more. Then I called the attention of the crowd to the wants of this soldier, stating the cause of his affliction, and urged them to each give him a few shillings. One after another handed him money, till several had bashfully and stintingly given him money. No one failed to see his wants, and all could but see that they had a clear duty to help this distressed creature, yet they seemed ashamed to do him good.

But in that depot were two Italian fiddlers. They were dirty, ragged, and low; yet the sound of their fiddles seemed to charm the crowd, and turn their interest from the poor soldier. These boys would then hold out their dirty caps, and receive from the people, who gave liberally and boldly to pay them for their miserable fiddling. And the poor soldier was forgotten. This well illustrates the taste of the people. Should Jesus appear among men as he did eighteen centuries since, how few would receive him. Should he be seen in agony on the cross, or in the judgment hall, careless, proud, pleasure-seeking sinners would probably turn from him, to admire the high priest’s robe.

Who can turn coolly away from the poor sufferers who lost health in the war, or while lying in Southern dungeons? The soul of such an one, if indeed he has a soul, is as unfeeling as a burnt boot.

The storm had so blocked the roads that we made poor connections, and did not reach the Wellsville depot till nearly eleven in the evening. There we found Bro. Fuller ready to take us to his home. We

got to rest a few minutes before midnight, and rested well till daylight. Instead of occupying their house of worship, three miles from the village, the brethren hired a large hall in Wellsville in which to convene the people. It would seat five hundred, three times as many as could be packed into their meeting-house.

Sabbath morning, we found about two hundred and fifty persons seated in this hall, most of them Sabbath-keepers. I spoke in the forenoon with freedom. In the afternoon the congregation increased, and Mrs. W. addressed the people in a most interesting manner. I had a good congregation in the evening, and Sunday forenoon, and Mrs. W. spoke to the crowd packed into the spacious hall in the afternoon. In the evening, I spoke to the crowd upon The Law and the Gospel. The subject took hold of the people, and they listened with great attention for more than an hour.

I labored to make one point especially prominent, that there is no redeeming property in law. The law condemns the transgressor, and holds him guilty, while it has no power to redeem. This I repeated, with emphasis, several times. But after the congregation was dismissed, a very portly gentleman present, who is known to be a bitter opposer, said to Bro. Fuller, Don’t you know that Paul said, “By the works of the law shall no flesh be justified”? The question was so absurd, after the remark which had been repeated several times—There is no redeeming property in law, that Bro. Fuller made no reply.

It is said of one who called himself Lord Timothy Dexter, when called upon by a woman, frightened by a thunder-storm, to pray, that he replied, “Madam, I know but one prayer, and that would be good for nothing on this occasion.” It seems that this man had but one class of texts to use, and one style of opposing the law of God, but failed to see that it was good for nothing on that occasion.

The people of Wellsville have given us a good hearing. We never had more intelligent, candid, orderly, and interested congregations. God bless the people of Wellsville. There are two reasons in particular why we were treated with respect in this village. First, there has been no nominal Advent influence to disgust the people; and second, the upright and Christian course of Eld. N. Fuller, who lives near the village, has exerted a good influence in all this community.

We find the brethren in this part of the State and Pennsylvania in advance of those in some other parts of this State in spirituality, unity, and devotion to the cause. They are anxious to have a camp-meeting in this part of the State. My stock of books was low, yet I sold many, and gave some. The brethren pledged freely to aid in tract and book circulation. They also raised $48.00 to meet our expenses.

First-day evening, it was decided that the interest of the cause in this region demanded that the meetings be continued in the house of worship three miles from the village. They were continued Monday and Tuesday, with a crowded house, and the deepest interest. Not less than thirty came forward for prayers, and most of them spoke with deep feeling. The meeting-house is too small for the congregation. It is too low and too narrow to extend in length. Could it be sold for a school-room or private dwelling, and a good house be built in a central place, that would seat at least four hundred, God would be honored and his cause advanced.

We part with this dear people with feelings of deep interest for their prosperity. God has blessed us in their midst. We leave, in a few hours, on the night train for Ohio. JAMES WHITE.