J. N. LOUGHBOROUGH by John Norton Loughborough

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D. C. · Aug 27, 1914

J. N. LOUGHBOROUGH

By John Norton Loughborough

The Second Advent Movement — No. 8

J. N. LOUGHBOROUGH

The earnestness of those giving the midnight cry is well expressed in what the wise virgins said to those who had no oil in their vessels. The spirit manifested by the Adventists in 1844 is apparent in their publications as they neared the termination of the 2300 days. We quote the following from George Storrs: “It requires the same faith that led Abraham to offer up Isaac, or Noah to build the ark, or Lot to leave Sodom, or the children of Israel to stand all night waiting for their departure from Egypt, or for Daniel to go into the lions’ den, or the three Hebrews to go into the fiery furnace. We must have the same state of mind that we should have if we were to die upon that day, the same entire consecration to God, and death to the world.”

The zeal and power attending the proclamation of the midnight cry aroused the ire of their opponents who had turned to “smite their fellow servants,” and they either stirred up or sanctioned many things done by the “baser sort” to oppose the truth. All the believers were exhorted thus to labor: “Let the believers in Christ’s near coming consider themselves apostles sent forth to teach. If you have a house, invite your neighbors in and tell them what you know. Hold prayer meetings and Bible classes. Lose no opportunity of calling attention to this wondrous subject. When Christ comes, let us all be found like the faithful and wise servant who gave to each ‘his portion of meat in due season.’”

As the result of such exhortation men left their shops and fields, to scatter papers, tracts, etc., on the second advent. Some would take a whole township, and place reading matter in every house. Stockbridge Howland, of Topsham, Maine, promised to supply a whole county. He was a millwright and bridge builder by trade. With a horse and a bundle of reading matter he had gone over several townships. This was too much for the opponents, so they went to the judge and complained that Mr. Howland was “neglecting his business and leaving his family to suffer.” This was a decided untruth. The judge appointed a guardian over Brother Howland to manage his business. This guardian, however, found more business than he expected, as Brother Howland sent to him all tax collections and all who came with bills to be settled, saying to them: “Go to my guardian. I am not supposed to be competent to do business.”

Soon the county wished to have a bridge constructed over the Kennebec River—a bridge that would stand the torrent of surging waters and floating ice in the spring freshets. The commissioners of the county and the selectmen of the town concluded that Stockbridge Howland was the man to build the bridge. When they came to him with the plans and contract for the bridge, he said to them, ironically: “Gentlemen, you will have to go to my guardian. You know I am not considered competent to do business, and do you come to me to build a bridge?” The situation was too ridiculous for sensible minds. That guardianship was suddenly ended, and the men that placed it were required to come and make humble acknowledgments to Brother Howland of their folly.

As the message increased in power, efforts were made by the rabble to break up the meetings. Mobs would sometimes collect near the place of meeting, and with infernal yells and mockery seek to drown the voices of the worshippers. Of such work Brother Southard, editor of the Midnight Cry, said: “It strikingly reminded them of the gathering around the house of Lot the night before the destruction of Sodom.”

In some places efforts were made to prevent the Adventists from going to their meetings. As an illustration of this I will

mention an incident that happened in Paris, Maine. The place of meeting was near a stream, which some of the believers had to cross on a bridge. The mob would meet them on the bridge, and seek to drive them back. One day Brother J. N. Andrews, then a boy about fourteen years of age, and Brother Davis were crossing the bridge. They were met by the mob. One of the men had a large horsewhip in his hand, with which he inflicted several blows upon Brother Davis to drive him back. Brother Andrews stepped up and put his arm around Brother Davis and said to the man with the whip: “We are commanded to bear one another’s burdens. If you whip Brother Davis, you whip me too.” The man said, “It is too bad to whip a boy,” and let them pass over.

The impiety and violence of the Paris rowdies seemed to come to a climax on the tenth day of the seventh month, the day the Adventists expected the Lord to come. The Adventists were permitted to assemble in the house of Brother Stowell. As they were engaged in solemn worship, two young rowdies, clothed with long sacks, which they denominated “ascension robes,” climbed up to the ridge of the house and sang, in burlesque, advent songs, shouting at the top of their voices, “He is coming,” and claiming, “We are robed and ready.” This, however, did not hinder the worshippers from a peaceful service.

After the tenth day had passed, it began to be reported that the Adventists on that day put on ascension robes and went up on housetops to wait for the coming of the Lord; but it was not told where nor who they were. I have now been an Adventist minister for about sixty-five years, and have traveled in all the States of the Union, and have labored extensively in those States where the movement went the strongest. I have never yet been able to find any date or place where an Adventist, on that day, made any such demonstration. It all simmers down to this case in Paris, Maine; but the boys who had the robes did not happen to be Adventists.

*Lodi, Cal.