The Call for the Message in Central Africa
In the Review for April 20 we gave a brief statement of the experience of Brother Joseph Booth in coming to a knowledge of this message, and promised to present a report of the address which he gave in Battle Creek on Sabbath, April 26. Below we print a full abstract of one of his talks. In the early part of the year 1891, I began to consider the question, Where would the Lord have me labor? Shall I go to the islands of the sea? Shall I go to China, to Africa, or to India? It was not for me to choose. God must guide. So I went from Australia to London, visiting different missionary societies, beginning with the Baptist society. But I got no light. In accordance with my convictions of duty, I visited the various missionary societies, but it was only to be repulsed; and I have nearly always been rejected by missionary boards. Indeed I may say, to the honor of the Seventh-day Adventist Mission Board, that it is the first board of any missionary society that has ever seriously considered my case. I have always had to make the societies that have undertaken industrial mission work. I talked with the Baptist Missionary Society. “Ah,” the secretary said, “we are sorry for you; but you are too old. You are over forty years of age. You have never had a college training; and, altogether, your family is unsuitable, and you are an entirely unlikely candidate. We are very sorry for you.” I called attention to the principles upon which their society was founded by Carey,—self-supporting and self-propagating,—and the hope that lay in such principles. I pointed to Carey’s portrait on the wall; but he replied, “We do not know any Carey in this day. We have no Carey, and if you want that kind of work, you would better go and do it. If you want a missionary society of that kind, you will have to found one.” I said, “Yes; I will ‘go.’ The Lord Jesus Christ said nothing about founding missionary societies; but he does say, ‘Go;’ ‘Lo, I am with you.’ I will have that society; I will go in that society, and see what happens.” Where was I to go? That was the next question. I had spent about three hundred pounds tramping around to get guides, always going to men for guides, forgetting that God had said he would direct. And when I was unable to get any guide, I locked myself up in a room at the Leeds (England) railway station for about five minutes, and said, “Lord, you must pardon me; I am getting imperative; I want you to show me to what part of the world I must go. I must know for certain.” What happened?—I was resolved not to stay in England if I could avoid it. I went to a restaurant for dinner, and wishing to avoid all conversation, wrote out what I wanted, and a man brought it to me. He stood by, watching me read this Bible. Finally he said, “Are you a man of that kind? I should think you would know better than to spend your time reading that old book.” I looked up a minute, and then replied, “Now I will tell you why I am a man of this kind if you will tell me why you are a man of your kind. I will tell you what we will do,—you take five, ten, or fifteen minutes, and then give me an equal amount of time, and I will give you something to think of; and you shall give me the best you can.” So he spoke for about five minutes, and then said, “I am done.” I said, “I will spend five minutes, telling you why I believe in this book.” And when I had finished, he said, “Ah, you are a sort of missionary fellow; you are not new to this thing. I have not heard these arguments before. I am not ready to answer you.” Then he said, “Look at this paper. There are two negroes here from Africa, and they are wanting missionaries right away in East Africa.” I said, “Let me see that paper, please.” He continued, “You can see Major Beckwith; he is taking them around the town. They are stopping at the Queen’s Hotel.” I went at once to see them. I had a conversation with them, and they invited me most heartily to their country. They took me to Africa. Strange to say, when I landed there, I found five men from Boston, who had answered the same call, and I left the place with them; for they were well equipped, and I was not. And that threw me again on God; and consequently I sat down in Cape Town, seeking a location to begin work. I met Elders Hankins and Robinson, and Sister Hetty Hurd, who is now Mrs. Haskell, and became somewhat acquainted with them. That was my first contact with the Sabbath truth. But they were bent on staying in Cape Town, while I was bent on reaching some one who had not been reached before. And so while I pressed my convictions upon them, they pressed their convictions upon me. They did not make out much. They had so much to teach, and I was not able to take it in. I thought, “Well, these folks have only the Sabbath; but the world, the outside world, the great Sunday-keeping world, must have something more to say.” I thought that if they would only go with me, we could talk over this thing in the interior. They did move, however; for some of them planted a mission in Matabeleland; and I was delighted to learn afterwards that they had received my message, although I had not received theirs. There is one particular verse which was given to me before leaving Australia, which has been my guide ever since; even now I am waiting to see whether it will be fulfilled in this place. It is this: “Behold, I send an angel before thee, to keep thee in the way [only one way—to keep thee in the way], and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared.” Wherever it is, obey his voice. I was waiting for that guidance. When I saw the Adventist brethren, I thought, Is this the guidance? While I was in Cape Town speaking in the streets, I was holding a meeting one night about nine o’clock; it was a dark night, but out of the darkness there came a voice bringing the message to me: “If you want to find a place beyond the habitation of white men, go to Nyassaland. On the west of Lake Nyassa there is a great country. There is room for you.” And as I listened, I asked one or two questions, but found it difficult to learn who the speaker was. I did not see his face; but afterwards I found out who he was. I met him on the River Shiré, four years afterward, and he asked me, “What made you come into this country? You have been a disturber here. You have a system that finds employment for the natives; they will live on the missions, and come to you. It is a kind of trap,—this planting of mission work.” And I told him of the voice I had heard in Cape Town. He said, “I was that man.” This was Dr. Laws, of Bandawe, Lake Nyassa. I have now told you how I came to go to Africa, and why I went to Nyassaland. And I must ask you to imagine that you have reached a point a little above the River Zambezi, which is the entrance to Nyassaland. It is two thousand miles from Cape Town up the coast, and twenty-three or twenty-four hundred miles inland to Lake Nyassa. That is the part where I have been working. There are so many things to tell you that I scarcely know where to begin. I shall not say much about the mission work as such, or the plan of work carried on, or the industrial mission. There have grown up several missionary societies around there. One is called the Zambezia Industrial Mission, another the Nyassa Industrial Mission, another the Baptist Industrial Mission of Scotland, another the Sabbath Evangelizing and Industrial Association, from this country. Altogether there are nineteen stations, and I think that sixteen of them are from friends in England; two from this country,—one from colored friends in the South, and one from white friends in Plainfield, N. J.—Sabbath-keeping missions. You remember that when I was at Cape Town, I heard the Sabbath truth, and as I left that town, I thought that I should hear no more of it. But time went on, and when I reached the Zambezi River, I found difficulties that absorbed all my time and attention. Several different tribes live there,—the Chikunda, Chisenna, Manganja, Makalolo, Angoni, Chipeta, Antonga, Yao, ’Nguru, etc. I am well acquainted with seven of these tribes, somewhat acquainted with another, and there are three or four others. My acquaintance with the Alolo and the Makua is slight, but they are accessible through that river highway. Sometimes we encountered difficulties in traveling, and at times had to borrow canoes from the natives. I went to the Makalolo tribe to borrow a canoe of the chief, who was called Masyer, and he kept me three days. You would be surprised to hear the extraordinary questions that man asked. On the third day he loaned me his canoe. All the time I was there, he was very generous. They are hospitable people.12 Difficulties with Wild Beasts
Now I have two daughters,—one a child of about four, the other a grown daughter of eighteen, who went with me to Africa as a child of nine years of age. My little daughter and I traveled in the canoe. Sometimes we had trying experiences. The crocodiles troubled us a great deal. Our canoe was only about six inches above the water’s edge, and at night, having tied it to a bamboo driven into the river bank, we slept in it. The crocodiles were numerous at that time. It was quite common to see seven or eight on the sand bank as we traveled by. My little daughter counted the largest group we saw, which consisted of over twenty. They have a dread of human beings. I am a firm believer in that word in the Scriptures which says, ‘The dread of you shall be upon every beast.’ I do not expect to dread anything. That is to say, that is the theory. You know that it is very well to have a theory, but when one comes to the practice, it may be quite a different thing. That was my theory,—that no man who believes in the power of God, and knows that he is in the right, that he is a being made in God’s image, and entitled to his power and his presence, ought to be afraid of any reptile or wild beast. At night the crocodiles would come around. They would try to get under the canoe, and wriggle it around. It seemed as if they were trying to turn it over in the water. My child believed in me. If she could hear my voice, or in the darkness could feel my hand, she had no fear. She always believed that no harm could happen to her if she kept hold of me. Her faith was beautiful. She would go peacefully to sleep in the midst of danger. Sometimes I could sleep, and sometimes I could not. The third or fourth night that we traveled was a very dark night, and there were many crocodiles around us. It seemed to me that their very noses were on the canoe. I could feel them put their feet on the edge of the canoe, and bear it down; but still they did not come in. Many times I thought of that word, ‘Be still.’ We must ‘be still.’ God will do the rest. ‘Be still, and know that I am God.’ However, there came a time when I lost my patience in being still. These creatures were very numerous. I thought on the land I could do as David did. He fought the bear and the lion. I determined to fight these things, and expect God to give me the power. Does it not say, ‘Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder’? I seized a strong paddle in the boat, and struck them. There was a tremendous rush in the water, which was churned into foam for a little while; and then there was no more trouble. I made up my mind that I would not sleep in the canoe any more. I had not slept on the bank before, because the crocodiles as well as other wild beasts could come there. The first night or two we had a little trouble. We heard the hyenas screaming around us once or twice; but I think it was the third night when three hippopotamuses rushed at us as if to tear the sides of our boat out. They had enormous teeth. As I rushed to see what those creatures would do, they rushed back again. But let me tell you of the worst night, I think, of any in our experience. We were both awakened suddenly by the roaring of lions, which seemed near us on the left. We also heard another couple on the right, a little farther away. I took hold of my little daughter’s hand, as she was feeling for me; and she said, ‘O Dah,’—this was a name she always called me. I said, ‘Yes, yes, dear; what is it?’ ‘The lions are here,’ she replied. And holding my hand, she said, ‘Ah, promise me, Dah.’ ‘Promise you? What shall I promise you?’ ‘Promise me that they will not eat you first and leave me alone.’ I must confess that all the promising had gone out of me just at that time. I felt much ashamed. My heart was beating rapidly before my daughter awoke. I said, ‘Why, daughter, have you forgotten the promises? Can’t you think of the promises of God?’ I could not myself. But that set me to thinking. I think that preachers must sometimes preach things they do not quite experience themselves. I thought, ‘How can God bless a man who is a hypocrite to his child?’ She said, ‘I have forgotten everything; but you tell me something.’ And then it began to come to me; I said, ‘O, yes; it says, “Be still.” “Be still, and know that I am God.” We must remember that God is here just the same, and that he has power.’ And I began to feel a little courage coming back in my heart; but never did I feel such a desire to run; yet there was the word, ‘Be still.’ The little girl then said, ‘O, that is so nice, Dah! do tell me something more.’ It was difficult to think of anything more. After a little while, I said, ‘Yes, it says, “Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night;” and, “The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear him.” If we believe in God, the angel will be around us and protect us.’ The child believed, and said, ‘I will not trouble you any more now;’ and putting her hands together, she went to sleep. At another time we had trouble with a leopard. It came where we were sleeping, and at that moment it seemed to me that it was no more than a yard from us. I could hear its breath. I had a hatchet with me for cutting wood. O, how my hands tingled to get hold of that hatchet! but I felt that that would not be trusting God. Just at that moment I heard the sudden cry of some small animal, a little scream of pain, as if caught by some other beast; and immediately the leopard close to us rushed off with a bound to join the other leopard in securing the animal that had been caught; and so we were left alone. Later on I encountered some difficulties with men. The Makalolo people, and also the Manganja people, were not accessible. We had no trouble in the way of their being fierce. We had a little trouble in regard to the message that I sought to carry. Here is an incident that happened some time after I had become familiar with the language of the Manganja people: I was anxious to travel about a mountain. Some of the people were hiding away in the hills. They loved peace, and the Chikunda people liked war. The Manganja people said to me, ‘We think peace is beautiful.’ I said, ‘Yes, I am so glad, because the Son of God came to this earth to bring the message of peace and love and good will to all people on the earth.’ By and by when I began to speak to them of the Son of God, it came out that they had a prophet whom they called the daughter of God. They said that they should not talk to me about the white man, the Son of God. Perhaps God had sent his white man to men; but they had a daughter who received messages in the nighttime, and who lived in the mountain that I wanted to ascend. They told me that I could not go to that mountain. They said, ‘You will be torn in pieces if you try to ascend that mountain. Lions always guard it.’ I did try to ascend, but I found many thorns, and no one would show me the way, and I finally had to give it up. I thought, ‘Now this is unusual. I will wait to see God open the way.’ With my Bible in my pocket, I began to travel; they said, ‘We will go with you.’ And in the kindness of their heart, about thirty of them accompanied me. It seems to me that they were born gentlemen. I often think how much more humanity and gentleness and hospitality and downright friendliness there is in their way than in our civilization. In a civilized land, one may go into a town and never be asked into any one’s house. The African in Central Africa generates a warmth in your heart, and you feel grateful, and love him. That was my experience among the Manganja people. I feel such a warmth and love for them! They were glad to give me food, or go with me, or to do anything in their power. By and by as we traveled, we came to an alarm, a cry from the natives. They said, ‘There is a lion near us. See! here are the marks of the wild beasts.’ There had been a number of buffaloes near that spot, and here were the marks that the lions had made in pursuing them, and it seemed probable that the lions had hidden in the bushes. There was consternation among the natives, and they turned to me, saying, ‘Where is your gun? White men always carry a gun.’ Had I not a gun, a little gun with me? I said, ‘No. Why are you afraid? Have you not said that you believe in a prophet that can take all fear out of your heart?’ They asked if I was not afraid? I said, ‘No.’ Of course I remembered13my experience with the lions, and how I had been afraid then. I said, ‘How can a man be afraid who has the book of God, and believes in it? You would not let me speak to you.’ I took my Bible out, and said, ‘This is a gun.’ ‘O, a gun? How is it a gun?’ I said, ‘There are things in this book which are better to me than a gun. When you want to hear the things in this book, tell me. There are words in it that will put strength and power into your hearts.’ I put it away again. Ah, they went on quite differently! They looked at me with great superstition, or profound respect. The chief said: ‘We will go forward, and when we come to the spring, we will sit down there, and learn from the book of God.’ So when we reached the spring, those thirty men sat down, and begged me to open the Word of God. I was led to open at the commandments, which I expounded to them as well as I could. Of course Africans are very different from folks here. You would think it very tiresome to sit here two or three hours; but the Africans think nothing of sitting half a day, or even a day, in one meeting. I remember one meeting of twenty-six and one-half hours. I was really exhausted; but during all that time their questions were so persistent and so earnest that I could not get away. At this place we stayed perhaps three or four hours, examining the commandments of God. They listened, and compared notes among themselves; then the chief stood up and said, ‘The words we have heard to-day our hearts tell us are the words of no man. The hearts of no men would make such words as we have heard to-day. Now we know these are truly like the spring [he pointed to the spring], like the pure water, not like the water down the stream that perhaps the animals have made dirty, but like the pure water. These words have come out of the heart of God himself. No man could make words like these. The black man cannot make words like these, and the white man cannot make words like these. No, these words are hard for white men and hard for ourselves. But we love these words. Now we are ready to build you a place. We want you to stay here.’ O, I have heard that story so often! In more than a hundred places I have heard that same thing. We have the work started in about nineteen places. Including the different missions, industrial missions, I think there are fifty-two schools; but there are about one hundred places where I have heard this same thing,—‘O, stay here!’ The Second Call to the Truth
I must now tell you how God gave me a second call to the truth. Brother James, from this town (Battle Creek), followed me to Cape Town, up the coast and into the interior, and for two months endeavored thoroughly to instill into my mind and heart the truths you hold. I was much moved, and yet I could not get clear. I was very busy. I had boats to look after on the river, houses to build, roads to make. I could not give him a great deal of time; but in the evenings, and in times of recess, he was always busy. He carried a fiddle, and I gave him the fullest access to the natives. I said to him, ‘Teach these natives all you can from the Word of God. Teach them everything you can. Stay here as long as you like. I am willing to take in all I can. My heart is open to receive such truth as I am able to. It looks to me as if you have the truth as to our Lord’s return. I am quite with you there.’ I have believed that the return of Christ is at hand, that it will take place in this generation. However, I did not respond as quickly as Brother James wished. He felt that he had done his duty, and he called me out one morning, and said, ‘I have spent a great deal of work upon you. God will judge you for my visit. God will chastise you if you reject these truths, and he will give you no rest until you come back to the truth. You are wandering away. I have done my best to direct you and to teach you, and your heart is hard, and you are busy with much serving. You will not give the necessary time. I cannot spend any more time with you. I shall now leave you alone with God.’ And taking hold of my hand firmly, he said, ‘Remember, God will bring you to judgment for this thing.’ I said, ‘Now, Brother James, all that you have said will God do. I will wait for him; and as his indications come to me, I will try to respond. It may be I am too busy; it may be my head is not clear enough to see all that you say. Certainly I am not able as yet to receive what you have put before me. If you can be patient and stay long enough,—you feed a man with more than he can digest. I am a common man. If you can believe in this, give it to some one else if you wish. God bless you.’ He went. I have never seen him since. About three or four years afterwards I heard of his death. Wherever white men heard of him, he was spoken of as the man who always kept Saturday for Sunday. Brother James left me before I met with the incident I am now going to tell you. A Meeting with the Natives
I came to Chatyika, the chief of the Manganja tribe. He remembered Livingstone very well. I sent to the house of the chief to ask if I could stay there. I asked the people outside if I could speak. I wanted to speak for God. They all believe in Mutunga, the great Supreme Being. But they did not wish to have me speak. They wanted to go on with their beer drinking. They were calling the people together from eleven villages. I thought I must leave something on record; I must be a witness for God, whether welcome or unwelcome. I shut my eyes, put my arms behind me, and began to sing two or three of their hymns. One was, ‘When He cometh,’ and another was, ‘Come to Jesus.’ At the close of those two hymns I opened my eyes very cautiously, because I had noticed that the Central Africans will often run away. The women are very modest. If you look at them straightly, they will shrink away from you. I began to look at the children, and to sing to them. The songs are so easy for the children, and they soon begin to pick them up. I sang, ‘Come to Jesus just now.’ The little children took hold of it nicely. The mothers were standing around, and a great crowd of men behind. I began to speak before the chief came out, and he stood in the rear. I thought, ‘What is that man going to say? He is going to take me to account somehow.’ In about twenty minutes I said, ‘It is not good for me to do all the talking. What have your hearts to say? Is there anything in your hearts that you wish to say?’ The chief said, ‘Yes;’ they had listened to my words, and I had not done what I had said to them. I had said I would tell them some words that God spoke, and I had not told them any words but my own. Now would I please tell them, if I knew, any words that God had spoken? Would I tell them? And it was this which took me to the commandments. This was the first time I was led by the natives to speak of the commandments of God. A Heathen Preaches the Sabbath
I then expounded the commandments of God, but did not get past the fourth commandment. Suddenly that man turned upon me, saying: ‘Ah, now we know for the first time which is the day.’ And he put this direct question to me: ‘Which is the seventh day?’ It surprised me. It sounded to me a little bit like a judgment falling upon me. I thought, ‘Is this Brother James again?’ I tried to put him off a little; but he said, ‘I want to know which is that day, the seventh.’ I could not lie, so I said, ‘This day on which I am speaking to you is the day on which we white men worship; this is the first day of the week. The day of which this commandment speaks was yesterday, the seventh day.’ I thought to make a clean breast of it at the beginning. He looked back at me so sharply,—‘What! you white men choose another day! You white men have more power than God! Who gave you power greater than God?’ I was confounded. I said I had not come to talk about this thing. I had told him the truth, that white men give the first day to the worship of God; and he could do what he liked. I had read to him the law of God, and he had asked which was the day, and I had said that it was the seventh day. But he would not let me escape that way; he inquired who gave us more power than God had. And I escaped in the usual fashion, by saying it was not good for us to go on talking about this thing. I felt that I was getting into a trap. The Lord says, ‘My word . . . shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.’ It seemed to me that God was raising up this man as a witness against me.14 I had a native with me who soon afterward began to do the will of God. And some of the men who were there in 1893, soon after began preaching. These natives had heard the words of that chief, and about a fortnight afterward, when I got back to where I was settled, they said, ‘We have been talking about the words of Chatyika, and we think he is right; and if you will let us, we want to begin to keep the seventh day.’ And so the young men, about fourteen of them, began to keep the seventh day, and left me stranded, a first-day keeper. Personal Experience with the Sabbath Truth
I am ashamed that I was so dull in regard to the Sabbath. First there came the call at Cape Town; next there came the warning through Brother James,—well, practically it was all one, because it came from the Adventist society. My reason for rejecting Brother James’s teaching was that I could not take it all in, and he would not be satisfied with anything less than all. So I said, ‘It must all go.’ When I came to the natives, and the same Sabbath truth came again so very forcibly, from a man who had been a heathen, who was a heathen when he met me, when the word of God came to him,—when it came to me in that way, I was somewhat startled. This seemed like the voice of God speaking to me; and when the native young men began to keep the seventh day, I felt very strange. After these natives began the observance of the Sabbath, they said to me, ‘Are we annoying you? Does it hurt you that we keep the seventh day, and you keep the first day?’ I said: ‘No; I have not come here to put you in bondage. If the Word of God says to you, Keep the seventh day, keep it, and you will have peace with God. As for myself, I am not quite clear.’ They said, ‘It is better for us all to do one thing.’ Some of the natives made trouble. They said of these natives who were keeping the Sabbath, ‘You do not work on the seventh day;’ and of me they said, ‘You stop all work on the first day; you do not keep the seventh day. Does he give you two days? Is that the way he does?’ Of those natives who were keeping the Sabbath they said, ‘Now you are becoming teachers. Do you know better than the white man? Who is right?’ And so these natives came and asked me if it was right to keep that day. ‘It makes us trouble. Do you want us to keep the seventh day, or do you want us to keep the first day? Do you want us to do as you do?’ I replied: ‘I want you to do what your heart says is right. I do not want to have to answer to God for your sins. Never mind what those people say. The fear or favor of man is deceitful. Perhaps by and by I shall keep the seventh day; but I need a little more knowledge and light. When I have examined the subject thoroughly, then it may be that I shall be with you. I will either be with you or against you then; but now I can only say to you, I keep the first day because my fathers did, and because my people do; and you keep the seventh day because the Word of God says you should.’ And so when I came to America, it was with the resolve to look into this matter. I was sent by the New York Baptist ministers’ conference into the city of Plainfield, N. J., and they said to me, ‘Now we are giving you the names of the Baptist churches you are to visit.’ I did not know this country. They said, ‘You are to go where we send you. Go only where you are sent by the Baptist ministers.’ It seemed to me that they were very particular. I went to Plainfield, to the addresses given; and when I had finished with the second minister, he turned upon me, ‘Are you going to the other Baptist church? You are one Baptist church short on your list.’ I said, ‘I do not understand. I was told to go wherever any Baptist minister sent me, and what is it you want me to do?’ He said, ‘I want you to go to Dr. Main’s church in Plainfield.’ I said, ‘What is it? I have not got Dr. Main down here.’ He said, ‘He is a Seventh-day Baptist.’ I thought, ‘Is this the seventh day coming up again? Here is my chance. Surely, that is God’s last call to me.’ I asked him if Dr. Main was a Seventh-day Adventist. He said, ‘No; it is a Seventh-day Baptist church.’ I remarked, ‘I have had quite an experience with the Seventh-day Adventists.’ He said, ‘Well, I can only send you to Dr. Main’s, and they will give you help for Africa. They are just as good as we are, except they keep Saturday for Sunday.’ ‘Ah, well, I have had experience on that subject. Yes, I am going.’ I went. They gave me a hearing. Dr. Lewis and Dr. Main brought me to task on the Sabbath. I thought, ‘Well, this is a much easier way than the Adventist way. I will try this easy way. I will watch and see if God will give me rest.’ Brother James said that I would never have rest until I took the Adventist position; that that position was sound, and that God would give me no rest until I had accepted it. Finding the Seventh-Day Adventists
I did not find rest there; and the thought came to me that I must find some of the Adventist people. I had considerable difficulty in finding this people. When I got to New York, I could not learn where they were. I went over to Brooklyn, and the first place was shut up. Presently I found the hall, but could not find the pastor. I came on the Sabbath day and found them in the hall. Here I met Elder Haskell and his wife, and she said, ‘Why, you are the man with whom we had so much trouble in Cape Town.’ And when I came to Chicago, I found Elder Hankins, and he said, ‘Why, you are the man who ran away when I was giving my lectures in Cape Town.’ I cannot find anything wrong about the Adventists. If you know of anything wrong, I hope you will tell me.