Untitled article by J. M. A.

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Third-day, October 1, 1867.

NOTES BY THE WAY.

By J. M. A.

In pursuance of a very urgent appeal from Bro. and Sr. White and the Editor, to join them at the Convocation Meeting in Iowa, and with the consent and advice of brethren at the Office, I rather reluctantly consented to go, being doubtful as to whether it was duty, from the fact that Bro. Smith was also absent. I resolved, however, to go to this meeting, hoping and praying for a good and profitable season.

I accordingly left Battle Creek at 2:45, P. M., on Tuesday, westward bound. Next morning, at 7 o'clock found me at Rock Island, on the Mississippi river. And right here I feel like saying that a sleeping-car is a grand arrangement for night travelers. It don't pay to sit up all night, cramped and squeezed, and so nod the long hours away, when for a trifling expense they may be spent so much more comfortably. An all night's ride in a wide berth on this occasion proved a very pleasant and refreshing pastime to me.

But here at Rock Island is the mighty Mississippi, the “Father of Waters,” in which I am particularly interested just now. I have often thought I should like to see this noted river,—the longest in the world—but scarcely expected to ever enjoy the privilege. I must now improve the opportunity to the best advantage; so I take my position on the platform of the car while crossing the bridge. Although it is a broad belt of water, it seemed at first sight quite shallow, and with this impression on my mind, and being a little confused for the moment as to my geographical whereabouts I very innocently enquired of the brakeman whether steam navigation extended up the river above that point? Oh! yes, said he, eleven hundred miles! How deep is the water here? Sixty feet at low water, was the response. I concluded I had better waive further questions. But my kind informer doubtless thinking I might like to know how the steamers got by the bridge, voluntarily informed me that there was a “draw” in the bridge, (over which we were at that moment passing) that let them through.

Well, I have for once passed over the great Mississippi. In contemplating this vast belt of water, my mind was filled with wonder and admiration. Truly, the works of God are wonderful.

I am now in Iowa, steaming still westward. The morning is delightful; the sky clear, and the air pure and bracing. The scenery on either side of the rail road is beautiful beyond description. I enjoy it much. My eyes never before rested on a western prairie. One has seen but little of the world if he has not seen a western prairie. Here is land as far as the eye can see. There is nothing to limit the vision.

Here I saw the elements of wealth scattered in wide profusion, the chiefest of which seemed to be wheat, corn and cattle. Of these there seemed to be no end. As far as the eye could pierce the depths beyond, the vast plains were completely dotted and covered with stacks of grain and waving fields of tall corn. One noticeable feature of this western country is the fact, that they have but very few barns. The vast number of acres made this feature particularly noticeable. It was a rare sight indeed to see so many cattle. If I did not see “cattle on a thousand hills,” (the hills were not to be seen) I saw at least several thousand cattle on the plains. It was a very common thing to see droves numbering from one to two hundred each. Here, I thought, is where the vast trains of cattle come from, that furnish bruised, pelted and sickly meat for the eastern markets.

I pass along. After journeying thus for an hour or more, we strike the Mississippi again at Muscatine. This, in western phrase, is a “right smart” town of about 12,000 inhabitants. The town is situated among the bluffs on the right and is partly hid from view, while the broad, deep river on the left flows peacefully and majestically on her course to the far-off gulf. While rapt in awe and admiration on beholding the scene before me, I thought how applicable the language of the prophet; “Oh, that thou hadst hearkened to my commandments! then had thy peace been as a river.” I felt more than ever like hearkening to the commandments of God. Just at this juncture in my thoughts, two men, who had stepped out to view the town came into the cars; and one said to the other: In twenty-five years from now this will be a great place. Yes; said the other, but you and I will not be here then.

Truly thought I. “You and I will not be here then.” Think of it, dear reader, where will we be, and what will be our condition twenty-five years from now?

On hearing the conversation of these two men, I wished for an appropriate tract to place in their hands, showing that “the end of all things is at hand.” The distribution of tracts is a work which as a people we must enter into on a larger scale than ever heretofore. More must be said on this question hereafter.

I arrived at Washington at 12:30 P. M. and am now, at this writing, Wednesday eve, sharing with Bro. Smith the kind hospitality of Bro. Kilgore and family. In the morning we start for the meeting at Pilot Grove, ten miles distant. Bro. and sister White are already there. May the blessing of God be with us at this meeting.

J. M. A.