Sister Brown’s Mistake by Dudley Marvin Canright

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Mar 14, 1882

Sister Brown’s Mistake.

By Dudley Marvin Canright

BY ELD. D. M. CANRIGHT.

It was half past two o’clock Sabbath afternoon when brother Jacob Brown and family got home from meeting. Stephen, a lad of fourteen, assisted his father to put out the team, while sister Brown and the girls made ready the dinner.

“I am half starved,” said Jane, in a scolding tone, as she hung her bonnet and shawl in the wardrobe, “the meeting was so long. It seemed to me it would never close.”

“Brother Williams is no more fit for an elder than our little Tommy is,” replied sister Brown, with some impatience in her tone and manner. “I told your father so before they put him in, and I voted against him. He is so slow and tedious in his talk. He will drag out a meeting till everybody is tired out.”

“Well—bruthrin—if—you’ve—all—done—your—dooty,—I—s’pose—its—’bout—time—to—close,” mockingly put in Rose, at which Jane and her mother laughed heartily.

“Better put in brother Dean,” said Rose, “he can talk fast enough.”

“Brother Dean?” said Jane with a sneer, as she made the dishes rattle, “yes, he’ll chatter all day like a baboon, and say nothing. He hasn’t a thimble full of sense.”

“I am ashamed to own it,” said the mother, “but there isn’t a man in the whole church fit even to lead a prayer-meeting, much less to be an elder,” and she sighed deeply, as though she were laboring under a heavy burden.

“I shan’t get my Sabbath-school lesson any more,” said little Tommy, in an injured tone, as soon as the blessing had been asked at the dinner-table.

“Tut, tut, my son, you must not talk that way,” quietly replied the father. “What has offended you now?”

“’Cause brother Ward never asked me only one question, when I had my lesson perfect. He asked Mary Jones and Lillian Stevens three times apiece. He never notices me. He’s mean, he is,” said Tommy, as he shook his head angrily. Before the father could reply, the mother came to the aid of Tommy, saying, “Jacob, you needn’t scold the poor boy, for you know he is more than half right. Brother Ward is always picking on our children or slighting them some way.”

“I don’t blame Tommy a bit,” added Jane, “for Will Ward likes to show his importance by lording it over everybody. He is so pompous and self-important that I fairly hate him—there!” and she set down a basin of milk so spitefully that the contents were thrown over the clean tablecloth and on her new dress, while all enjoyed a laugh at her expense.

“I think you are a little hard on brother Ward,” said the father. “All things considered, he makes a very good superintendent, the best we have had. Like all the rest of us, he may have some faults; but he means to be a good man. It appears to me it would be better to encourage him than to find fault with him, even if he does not manage just to suit us. Who would do any better?”

“Sister Flint,” suggested Rose with a knowing look.

“She had better take care of her own youngsters before she tries to teach others,” said Jane. “They are the worst children in this whole town.”

“I have no confidence in her,” responded sister Brown. “She can’t teach my children; I’ll keep them at home first.”

“Well, my dear, who would you have then?”

“That’s the trouble. Our children might as well stay at home; for the Sabbath-school never has amounted to anything, and never will. There isn’t a person in the church fit for the place,” and the mother groaned as she finished the sad picture.

“The singing was perfectly horrid to-day,” said Jane. “May Davis always gets a tune so high nobody can sing it.”

“I don’t like to hear you talk so, Jane,” said her father. “May does the best she can. I wish you and Rose and Stephen would take hold and help her. It would add so much to the singing, and make the school more interesting. Brother Ward asked you to start the piece, and you declined.”

“I didn’t like the piece, and then I won’t do anything for him, anyway.”

“I don’t blame the children at all,” answered sister Brown. “They never call on them only when they get in a pinch.”

Brother Brown held his peace; for he had learned by experience that it was no use to contend with his wife. Such conversations as the above were very common around the table and at the fireside, especially after they had come from a meeting. Nearly every member of the church was criticised. Sister Brown was a bright, intelligent woman, and in many respects a good woman. She was firm in the truth, and very zealous for it. She read the Bible much, and was strict in her religious duties. They took all our denominational papers, and spared no pains to teach their children the theory of the truth. The family being in good circumstances, the children enjoyed better privileges than the most of the other children in the church could command. Jane was nineteen. She had just graduated from the village school, was bright, a good singer, and every way qualified to be a help in the Sabbath-school. But unfortunately, like her mother, she was given to finding fault with every one. This made her very disagreeable, and often troublesome. Rose, who was seventeen, was naturally a sweet, good-dispositioned girl; but under the training of her mother and elder sister, she had learned to have confidence in no one, and to be especially distrustful of the members of the church. Stephen was more like his father—quiet and confiding; but he thought his mother and sisters were the smartest, and so followed them.

None of the children were converted, though brought up in the truth, and often labored with both by the parents and by ministers. This was a great grief to sister Brown. She could not see why it must be so, when she had done so much to teach them the truth, and had prayed with them and for them so many times. She often said, “I do n’t understand it. I have done all I could for my children. My conscience is clear. If they are lost, I have done my duty. Others who have not tried half as hard have all their children with them in the church, while mine are unconverted.” As they arose from the table, brother Brown said, “Did you notice the appointment in the paper for meetings at our place?”

“No; who is coming?” asked his wife.

“Elder Green.”

“What! not that long-legged, awkward fellow who was here two years ago?” responded Jane.

“It is the same brother Green who was here before,” quietly answered her father. “I think he is an excellent man and a very good speaker, though not as polished as some.”

“I am sorry,” said sister Brown, “for he can’t do our children any good. I wish they would send some first-class preacher here. They could if they wanted to; but we pay our money, and that is all they care.”

“I can preach as well as he can,” said Stephen.

“I think he is rightly named Green,” put in Rose. “I don’t care whether he comes or not. I shan’t put myself out much to hear him.”

On the next Friday Elder Green came. He was a young man of fair ability, good judgment, and earnest piety, though possessing but little education. That he might work understandingly, he inquired of brother Brown, who was a deacon of the church, and his host, “What is the condition of things here? How large a church have you now? Are they all doing well?”

“There are not very many of us, only thirty members,” answered brother Brown, “but we have no special trials. On the whole, I think our church is about as good as they will average.”

“I pity the rest of the churches, then, if they are all like this one,” said Jane, who chanced to pass through the room just then.

“Jacob, I think you ought not to deceive Elder Green, as he has come here to labor,” answered sister Brown. “Some things will have to be different here before anything can be done. There is brother Jones and sister Smith, they will hardly speak to each other; yet they both take part in the meetings. I can have no confidence that they are Christians while they live that way. And there is brother Lawrence, he never pays his debts. He has owed Mr. Sternes ten dollars for years. I don’t want my children to go into a church where such things are allowed. I think they are better off where they are.”

“Oh! you need have no fears about that, mother. If you wait till we join this church, you will wait a long time,” said Rose, who with Stephen and Tommy, was listening to the conversation.

“Will Norton was baptized last year,” remarked Stephen, “he and about a dozen more. I don’t see as they are any better than the rest of us. Mother says they are not, though they do speak in meeting.”

“Poor children! they were never converted. I don’t want my children to start till they can start right.”

“Sarah,” said her husband, “I think you are a little uncharitable toward the young people. I think the most of them have done remarkably well, considering that they were left so soon, and have had no help from a minister since.”

“It is often easier to stand by and tell what ought to be done than to do it ourselves,” observed Elder Green. “I have sometimes heard unconverted people say that when they became Christians, they would not do as certain others did. They would be whole Christians or none at all. But when they did make a start in the service of the Lord, I noticed that they made about the same stumbling work of it as others had. It is commendable in young people to try to do right, even if they do make some mistakes. I think we ought to encourage them, and show them all the confidence we reasonably can.”

Sister Brown felt touched, and replied with some warmth, “Very well, you may think them all saints if you choose to. Jacob can fellowship

anything, but I can’t. There is mother Thomas”—and so she went on for half an hour, describing the errors of different ones, the children indorsing her criticisms with an occasional remark. Finally Elder Green took his hat and walked out to meditate and pray. He carried a sad heart. What could he do if the church was really in such a bad condition? He wished he hadn’t come, but decided to make the best of the situation.

On the Sabbath the meeting was excellent. The Spirit of God was present in power, and many were in tears. Warm testimonies were borne, and good confessions made. Brother Brown was happy, and even sister Brown was visibly affected. Backsliders were reclaimed, and nearly all the youth came forward for prayers. The elder went to brother Brown’s children and invited them to come with the others; but they were as hard as a flint. Jane laughed in his face. The mother went to them, but they soon silenced her. Said Jane, “Mother, you have no more confidence in this than I have. It wont last a month. I am better than they are now.” The mother had no answer.

The meetings lasted two weeks, and a good work was done. Rose and Stephen arose for prayers once, but Jane ridiculed them when they got home, and they went no further. Jane and Rose had many a laugh over the awkwardness of “green brother Green,” as they called him. The father was pained. He reproved them, but the mother laughed at their wit. In meeting, however, she often spoke of her children with tears, asked prayers for them, and prayed earnestly for them herself. But the meeting closed, and they remained unconverted.

The father’s heart was sad, but he said little. The mother wondered why it was that after all her careful training, and her many prayers, her children should not be converted. Elder Green cautiously intimated to her one day that he feared she might have injured her children by so freely talking over the faults of the brethren and sisters before them, thus destroying their confidence in the church, and the only ones who might have influenced them for good. She could not believe it, and justified herself by saying, “The children have eyes, and can see these things for themselves. I cannot call wrong right, nor a hypocrite a saint.” So he said no more. About one year later, Jane was taken very sick. After a week of careful nursing, the parents became alarmed, and summoned a physician. He could give them little hope. The chances were that she must die. Anguish filled their hearts, especially as she was unprepared. Brethren and sisters came in and watched with her day and night; but she was so low they dared not tell her her danger nor talk with her about her soul. The mother was almost distracted. Must her child die without hope in God? The father wept in silence. Rose and Stephen trembled with fear, and sobbed bitterly at the sight of their unconscious, but dying sister. Earnest prayer was offered by the church. After two weeks of intense suffering, she partially recovered, but her constitution was broken. Quick consumption had fastened upon her, and the doctor said she could not live more than four or five weeks.

Cautiously and tenderly her father informed her of her condition, and inquired after the interests of her soul. “O father,” she said, sobbing, “I cannot die, I cannot die. I am afraid of God. I have hated everybody.” She shuddered as she buried her face in the pillow. The father’s strong frame shook with emotion, and the tears flowed fast as he grasped the hand of his hopeless child. Gaining control of his feelings, he told her of the mercy of God and how Jesus died for sinners. But she was not comforted. Her mother, coming in, tried to soothe her. “One year ago,” began Jane, “when Elder Green was here, I was convicted that I ought to be a Christian. I felt deeply, and wished I could make a start. Once I thought I would; but when I remembered my feelings against the different members of the church, and what we, mother and I especially, had said about them, it was too humiliating for me to ask their prayers, to join in with them, and became one of them. Besides, I had come to be almost an infidel, to feel that all were either fools or hypocrites. So I resisted my convictions till they left me. Then I hindered Rose and Stephen all I could. Mother, forgive me for saying it, but all this came from our habit of constantly talking against the different church-members. In this way I came to dislike them, to lose confidence in everybody, and then in religion generally. If it had not been for father’s godly life, I should have lost all faith in man. Mother, you did not mean it so, but if I am lost this will be the cause of it. For the sake of Rose and my brothers, for whom there is yet hope, I beseech you never to ridicule any one, or speak evil of any, in their presence again. Do as father does.”

As the terrible nature of the work she had been doing, the evil seed she had been sowing for long years, was thus flashed vividly upon her soul, for the first time, the mother cried out, “Oh! what have I done?” and fell fainting to the floor. For days they feared she would lose her reason; but a great change came over her. She became calm, peaceful, and subdued. She called her family together, and penitently confessed her great wrong in thus sowing the seeds of distrust and hatred in the hearts of her children.

“The scales have suddenly fallen from my eyes,” she said, “and I abhor myself. Jane, will you, can you, forgive me, my child?”

“Yes, mother; but there is no hope for me. It is too late now,” and she wept bitterly.

Father and mother tried to assure her of hope, but she was in despair. Elder Green was sent for. He dealt plainly with her; for he knew that her soul was at stake. Then he pointed her to the Saviour, who would freely wash away the deepest stains of sin. Light and hope came gradually into her mind. She believed and realized the love of God for her, a poor sinner. By her request, Brn. Williams, Ward, and others were called in together. She confessed how she had ridiculed them, talked against them, and despised them. Now she saw that they were better then herself, and that God loved them even as he loved her. The mother also made full and humble confession. Together they prayed, wept, and rejoiced. Calling Rose and Stephen, she warned them not to follow her example, to speak disrespectfully of no one, but to cultivate confidence in all as far as possible. As she held each by the hand, they promised to give their hearts to God.

Elder Green remained two weeks and a precious work was wrought for the church, sister Brown being the most tender and humble of all. Rose and Stephen made a good profession. After careful preparation, first Jane, then Rose, and lastly Stephen, were baptized. Brother Brown’s cup was full. He had peace in his family, and they were at peace with all. Jane lived a few weeks, and then sweetly fell asleep in Jesus. In a conspicuous place in the house was hung the motto: “SPEAK EVIL OF NO MAN.”