Untitled article by James White

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Third-day, March 3, 1868

FromReview and Herald, Vol. XXXI, No. 12

LIFE INCIDENTS.

By James White

BY ELDER JAMES WHITE.

CHAPTER FOUR.

Quarterly Meeting at Richmond.—Elder Rollins.—His Brethren close the Pulpit at the Village against me.—Most of the Ministers and Delegates go three miles to hear me.—A Wonderful Meeting.—Arrange for six Weeks' work in the limits of that Quarterly Meeting.—Meetings at Gardiner.—At Richmond Corners.—Clarke on Dan. vii.—At Bowdoinham Ridge.—At Lisbon Plains.—Parson Merrill opposes and is publicly rebuked by a Universalist.—Good reception at Bowdoin.—Meetings at Brunswick.—The power of singing at Litchfield Plains.—State of things at West Gardiner.—Return Home.—Rest, then come back to field of labor.

AFTER filling appointments at Gardiner and Bowdoinham, I returned to the Quarterly Meeting in Richmond. And as I entered the place of worship, Elder Rollins, who was seated beside the pulpit at the further end of the house, arose and said, “Bro. White, you will find a seat here by me.” After sermon, liberty was given for remarks, and I spoke with freedom upon the Christian life, and the triumphs of the just at the second advent of Christ. Many voices cried, “Amen! amen!” and most in that large congregation were in tears. The Free-will Baptists in those days were indeed a free people, and many in that congregation were exceedingly anxious to hear upon the subject of the advent. And as I spoke they seemed to be finding relief from their pent-up feelings in hearty responses and tears. A portion, however, seemed unmoved, unless it was to show in their countenances that they were displeased. Elder Rollins then informed me that his brethren had voted that I should lecture at that meeting, and the next day rescinded the vote. This displeased him much, and his statement explained to me the existing state of things. Near the close of that meeting, after getting my consent, Eld. Rollins arose and said, “Bro. White, who sits at my right side, will speak at the Reed meeting-house this evening, upon the second coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Come up, brethren, and hear for yourselves. We have sufficient room to entertain you all. Come up, brethren, it will not harm any of you to hear upon this subject.”

He had as much influence as any minister in that Quarterly Meeting, and, being disappointed and hurt that his brethren should vote me down, and shut the advent doctrine out of their meeting, was willing they should feel it. He very well knew that most of his brethren would leave their meeting in the village, and go three miles to hear me, and that their appointed business session would be broken up. And so it was. Three-fourths of the ministers, and nearly every delegate, left, and the Reed meeting-house, at an early hour, was crowded. My subject was Matt. xxiv. The Spirit of God gave me great freedom. The interest was wonderful.

As I closed with an exhortation to Christians to fully consecrate themselves, and be ready, and to sinners to seek Christ, and get ready for the coming of the Son of man, the power of God came upon me to that degree that I had to support myself with both hands hold of the pulpit. It was a solemn hour. As I viewed the condition of sinners, lost without Christ, I called on them with weeping, repeating several times, “Come to Christ, sinner, and be saved when he shall appear in his glory. Come, poor sinner, before it shall be too late. Come, sinner, poor sinner, come.”

The place was awfully solemn. Ministers and people wept—some aloud. At the close of every call to the sinner, a general groan was heard throughout the entire assembly. I had stood upon my feet explaining the chapter and exhorting for more than two hours, and was getting hoarse. I ceased speaking, and wept aloud over that dear people with depth of feeling such as he only knows whom God has called to preach his truth to sinners. It was nine o’clock, and to give liberty to others to speak, would be to continue the meeting till midnight. It was best to close with the deep feeling of the present moment, but not till all had a chance to vote on the Lord’s side. I then called on all in the congregation who would join me in prayer, and those that wished to be presented to the throne of mercy, that they might be ready to meet the Saviour with joy at his second coming, to rise up. Every soul in that large house, as I was afterward informed by persons in different parts of it, stood up. After a brief season of prayer, the meeting closed.

The next morning I returned to the village, accompanied by at least seven-eighths of that Free-will Baptist Quarterly Meeting. Every one was telling what a glorious meeting they attended the evening before. This did not help the feelings of the few who remained away, who had been instrumental in closing the pulpit at the village against the doctrine of the soon coming of Christ. Their course only increased the interest to hear me. The independent stand taken by Eld. Rollins resulted in their having a taste of that spiritual food for which they hungered.

At intermission, delegates and ministers invited me to join them in making arrangements as to time when I could lecture to the several congregations, in that Quarterly Meeting, who had commodious houses of worship. It was then in the middle of February, and it was decided that there remained not more than six weeks of fine sleighing, giving the people a good chance to attend meetings. Twelve of the most important places were selected for my labors in six weeks. I was to give ten lectures, which would require of me to speak twenty times a week. This gave me only half a day each week, which I generally found very necessary in traveling fifteen or twenty miles to the next place of meeting.

At Gardiner, near the river, Elders Purington and Bush were holding a protracted meeting with poor success, and were ready to hear me. So were most of the church. Some opposed, stating their fears that the advent doctrine would destroy their reformation. They had, after tugging at the wheel several days, on the third or fourth evening of their meeting, after inviting and coaxing for half an hour, prevailed on two persons to take what was called the anxious seat. In this, however, I saw no reformation to spoil. I told these ministers I was ready to commence my work. They hesitated. I proposed to go where the people were all anxious to hear me. They would not consent to have me leave. I waited one day longer, and spoke several times in social meeting. Many urged me to lecture. I sent them to the ministers. They labored with the opposition privately. Their meeting was becoming divided. I decided to bring the matter to the point of decision, so that I might at once enter upon my work, or leave the place. The ministers held on to me, and also labored with the opposition.

I finally stated before the entire congregation that I had been invited to the place; had been held there one day by their ministers and most of the congregation, waiting for a few individuals to consent to have me lecture; that I should wait no longer; that if I could not commence lectures that evening I should go where they wanted to hear; that I wanted a vote of the congregation. Nearly all voted for me to remain and commence that evening. The ministers said, “Go on with your lectures, and we will stand by you.”

As I took the stand that evening, I requested all who love Christ and the doctrine of his soon coming to pray for me, and I would excuse those who did not love him enough to wish to see him come in glory, from praying for me, as I thought they could to better advantage and profit pray for themselves. Every ear was open, and every heart felt. The Lord gave me perfect freedom in presenting proofs of the advent near, and in exhorting the people to prepare for that day. Many were in tears. I left the pulpit, exhorting the people and calling on them to come forward to the front slips. About thirty came forward. Many of them wept aloud. I turned to the ministers in the stand, saying, “These fears, expressed by some unconsecrated ones, that the glorious doctrine of the second coming of Jesus would kill a reformation, are from Satan. Do you think the work of reform has been injured here this evening?” “No! no! Go on, Bro. White, go on. The Lord is here.” This meeting, apparently, swept away all opposition, and the way was prepared for a good work. But other appointments would not allow me to remain longer than to give three or four lectures more. The protracted meeting then progressed with success.

At Richmond Corners I gave seven lectures in their new meeting-house, just dedicated, and at the close, two hundred arose for prayers. During the progress of the meetings, a Baptist deacon opposed. And when speaking upon Dan. vii, I stated that it was a historical fact that on Feb. 10, 1798, at the close of the 1260 days, Berthier, a French general, entered the city of Rome and took it, and that on the 15th of the same month the Pope was taken prisoner and shut up in the Vatican, and gave Dr. Adam Clarke as one of my authorities, an educated Catholic broke in upon me, charging me with falsehood, and offered me five dollars if I would read such a statement from Clarke’s comments on Daniel. With the promise that I would read Clarke the next evening, and by the entreaties and threats of his neighbors, this enraged Irishman was kept quiet.

The next evening I entered the pulpit with Clarke’s Commentary under my arm, and, after calling the people to order by singing an advent melody, read what Clarke had said upon taking away the dominion of the little horn, which fully sustained what I had stated the previous evening. I then offered the volume to any one who would see if I had read correctly, stating that I had not been to the trouble of going five miles for the Commentary, in order to claim the five dollars. That I chose to have the gentleman keep his money, and have the truth on the subject besides. He made no reply.

A gentleman of fine feelings and good influence in the community, who made no pretensions to piety, arose and said, “I wish to call the attention of this congregation to this one fact, that no persons in this community have manifested opposition to the lectures of Mr. White but a Baptist deacon and a Roman Catholic.” Many were converted in the vicinity, a strong company of believers was raised up, and a second-advent camp-meeting was held there in the autumn of 1844.

At Bowdoinham Ridge my labors were well received. A protracted meeting was being held with that church by Elders Quinman and Hathorn. They and the church fully co-operated with me, and a good work followed. On the last day I spent in this place I spoke forenoon and afternoon, then invited sinners to come forward for prayers, and joined in prayer for them. When we arose from our knees the sun was just setting, and I had sixteen miles to go to my next appointment, which was that evening.

A friend held my horse at the door. I had labored excessively, and was so hoarse that I could hardly speak above a whisper, and my clothes were wet with sweat. I needed rest; but there was my next appointment. The people would be together in about an hour, and I had sixteen miles to go. So I hastily said farewell to the friends with whom and for whom I had labored, mounted my horse and galloped away toward Lisbon Plains, in a stinging cold February evening. I was chilled, but there was no time to call and warm. My damp clothing nearly froze to me, but I galloped on.

As I rode up to the door of the house of worship, an aged Free-will Baptist minister was saying to the crowd, “I am sorry to say to the congregation that we are disappointed. The speaker we expected to hear this evening has not come.” And as he raised his hands to dismiss the people with the benediction, I cried, “Hold! I am here!” “Good,” cried the minister, and the people sat down. They had been waiting for me more than an hour.

With a few words of explanation of my late arrival, I commenced to speak, but I was so thoroughly chilled that my chattering teeth would cut off some of my words. However, I soon warmed up, and felt freedom in speaking. But where was my poor horse? His turn had come to be wet with sweat, and to shake with cold. A friend stood at the door watching for my arrival, who took the poor creature, and, as I supposed, took care of it. He simply tied it to the fence with a rope. Heated, wet, and without blanket, it had to stand in the keen wind one hour and a half, trembling with cold, until it was ruined. The next morning I saw in the poor creature a clear case of chest-founder. It is a shame to treat God’s poor creatures thus. I learned from this sad circumstance never to leave my horse without full directions as to its wants.

The large house of worship was crowded with attentive hearers three times each day, till my time came to hasten to the next place. On Sunday, the Presbyterian minister had thirteen hearers. On Monday, he came to hear me, and, as I passed down the symbols of Dan. viii, and began to apply the specifications of the little horn of that chapter to the historical facts of Rome, he broke in upon me, saying, “You mislead your hearers. Antiochus, and not Rome, is the subject of this prophecy.”

“Please wait, sir,” was my reply, “till I have finished speaking, then you can talk as long as the people wish to hear you. Be patient, and hear me while I show that Rome, and not Antiochus Epiphanes, is the subject of the prophecy.” The matter was made quite plain, and the minister was told that he could speak. He rose, but his subject was the temporal millennium. I had examined all his propositions and proof texts, which he tediously brought forward, in my first lecture. But it seemed necessary to briefly reply, notwithstanding it was little more than to repeat the same in the ears of nearly the same congregation. As I closed, a tall, rough-looking, red-shirted lumberman rose up in the house and said, “The difficulty with Eld. Merrill is that he is not ready, and is afraid the Lord will come.” The benediction repeated, the meeting closed. Good fruits followed in this place.

At Brunswick, I had a candid hearing in what was called Eld. Lamb’s meeting-house, a very large place of worship. My stay was brief, and most of the members of that numerous church were rich and worldly. They had not sufficient interest to even oppose me, so they heard me with a degree of apparent interest, amounting to a little more than curiosity, and let me go.

At Bowdoin, Eld. Purington received me as a brother, and stood by me till my work was done in that place. The large place of worship was crowded. The people listened with deep interest and feeling. The Universalists sent a few questions to the desk, in writing, which I enjoyed answering. Sinners manifested their desire for salvation, and those who loved Christ and his appearing, rejoiced in the advent hope and faith.

Litchfield Plains was my next place. The house was crowded the first evening. In fact it was with difficulty that I found my way to the pulpit. To call the people to order, the first words they heard from me were in singing, “You will see your Lord a coming, You will see your Lord a coming, You will see your Lord a coming, In a few more days, While a band of music, While a band of music, While a band of music, Shall be chanting through the air.”

The reader certainly cannot see poetic merit in the repetition of these simple lines. And if he has never heard the sweet melody to which they were attached, he will be at a loss to see how one voice could employ them so as to hold nearly a thousand persons in almost breathless silence. But it is a fact that there was in those days a power in what was called “advent singing,” such as was felt in no other. It seemed to me that not a hand or foot moved in all the crowd before me till I had finished all the words of this lengthy melody. Many wept, and the state of feeling was most favorable for the introduction of the grave subject for the evening. The house was crowded three times each day, and a deep impression was made upon the entire community.

West Gardiner was my next point. Eld. Getchel received me like a brother, and seemed to have a good interest in the subject. The people in this part of the town were nearly all Free-will Baptists. There had been one large church in the place, composed mostly of farmers possessing more wealth and intelligence than piety. A part of the church had wanted a popular minister, and because they were opposed in this by a more humble portion, drew off in a church by themselves, built a fine house, and employed a preacher that pleased them. Here stood, in full view, two Free-will Baptist meeting-houses, occupied each Sunday by two ministers of the same denomination, not always on friendly terms. It was a hard place to labor.

While the members of these churches had been occupied with the division in their midst, they had been destitute of the spirit of reformation, and their children had grown nearly to manhood without conversion. These were much affected by my lectures, and sought the Lord, while their parents seemed unmoved. I will leave this place, for the present, in my narrative, to return again, as I have something more to relate of the good work here in its proper place.

According to arrangements at the Quarterly Meeting at Richmond Village, I filled all my appointments, and saw in every place more or less of the work of God before I left. But the lectures were usually followed by protracted meetings, and large accessions were made to these churches. At the next Quarterly Meeting, it was publicly stated that within the limits of that Quarterly Meeting, one thousand souls dated their experiences from my lectures during that six weeks.

The second day of April, 1843, I mounted my chest-foundered horse, and started for my native town, much worn by the labors of the winter. The snow was very deep. My horse’s feet were, most of the time, while passing over the drifts, higher than the tops of the fence posts. My only suit of clothes was much worn, and I had no money. I had not received the value of five dollars for my labors. Yet I was happy in hope.

As I journeyed homeward, my horse became very much irritated with frequent turning out into the deep snow and sharp crust, in passing teams. Several times, while passing women and children he crowded nearly into the sleighs where they were. And fearing that he might seriously injure some one, I decided that it was safe for me, as teams approached, to dismount, crowd the horse out of the road, and hold him with a firm hand until they passed.

As I was entering the city of Augusta, a farmer was returning home with an empty hay-sled, drawn by six oxen. I chose to ride by this team. The driver sat on the fore part of the sled, and the oxen kept the middle of the road. On being crowded out of the road, my horse became very angry, and as the sled was passing, threw himself over the first set of stakes on to the sled. Seeing strong probabilities that I should be thrown on to some one of the second set of sharp stakes and killed, I sprang from the horse, quite over the stakes, into the deep snow on the other side. The team continued to move along with my horse fairly loaded upon the sled, and by the time I had rescued myself from the snow, was several rods from me. “Halloo,” cried I, “please stop your team and let me have my horse.” The good farmer stopped his oxen, and assisted me in unloading my horse, which, when I had mounted, galloped off as well as before.

Rain came on, and the firmly-trodden drifts became soft, so that my horse would, with my weight upon him, frequently sink to his body in the snow. I rode all day with my feet out of the stirrups, and as he would plunge into the snow, I would instantly slide off and relieve him of my weight, that he might better struggle out, or if he could not do this alone, assist him by lifting where most needed.

April 5. I reached my father’s house, and, after resting a few weeks, till the ground settled, returned to my field of labor, and was rejoiced to learn that the spirit of reformation had swept over the entire field. But the time had fully come for the people in farming districts to hasten out upon their lands, and I found but little chance to get a general hearing excepting on Sunday. However, I soon had a call to labor in East Augusta. The very interesting incidents of this meeting shall commence the next chapter.