Western Tour by James White

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 1, 1870

Western Tour.

By James White

INCIDENTS BY THE WAY.

We were not aware, at the time, of the deep impression our camp-meeting at Tipton, Ind., was making upon the people. Immediately after the meeting closed, we learned from various reliable sources, that the people were favorably and deeply impressed. We never had a better hearing than on first-day, and noticed that the people were very anxious to receive our small works, which we circulated gratuitously. But further than this, we could not form a decided opinion, till second-day, and third-day, when the frank, full, and uniform expressions of the people, of all denominations and classes, came in. There seemed to be but one voice among the people, and that was expressive of the greatest satisfaction.

At the railroad station, where we took the cars for Kansas, several gentlemen met us with great cordiality, and we were invited to return and speak to the people again.

Two ladies met Mrs. W. at the station, one of whom had been educated a Friend, the other an ardent Methodist. The sincerity of these good women could not be doubted. They stated to Mrs. W. that no religious influence had ever made so deep an impression on the people of Tipton, as the speaking upon the camp-ground on first-day. They also stated that there had been in that place decided opposition to public speaking by women. They both had advocated it, and felt, on first-day, c. m., while Mrs. W. was speaking, that much was at stake, and they prayed while she was speaking that the Lord would help her. These earnest, yet truly modest women, reported a great change in the public sentiment of that place, insomuch, that if they had thought that their wishes would have been gratified, a united request would have come from all the denominations in the place, for Mrs. W. to speak in some one of their houses of worship one evening, at least.

We leave this people with feelings such as those only can understand whom God has called to proclaim salvation to sinners, in the name of Jesus. We leave them, hanging as it were upon our very souls, praying God to raise up men, qualify them, and put upon them the spirit of love of labor in the wide harvest. And while we are gratified and astonished at the open ear of the people everywhere to the reasons of our faith and hope, and to the earnest appeals in behalf of pure religion, we are distressed to know that so few have the armor on. God pity the people, and send them help.

As the train was hastening on to Indianapolis, we fell into conversation with a fine-appearing young gentleman in the seat before us. We conversed a moment upon the crops and the country, then more particularly upon raising of small fruits. Here he talked well, and showed taste, in a sense more elevated than mere appetite. He spoke of the moral influence of cultivating small fruits, besides that which is the legitimate result of this most healthful food. Where is the man, unless he is as void of culture and sense as a horse, but knows that the influence upon the mind, and even the morals, of cultivating and securing the precious fruits in all their deliciousness and harmlessness, as God in nature produces them, is almost infinitely above that of feeding and butchering the filthy, squealing swine.

And then we talked of the influence of these things upon the health and life. He was sound, or at least on the direct route to soundness of mind upon hygiene. We stated to this young man that we were no physicians, yet we have read some, thought more, and sometimes talked to the people relative to these things. “What,” said he, “do you edit the health journal published at Battle Creek, Mich.?” No, sir, was our reply, but we are President of that Publishing Association which issues it. Said he, “My mother has been a reader of your health journal some time, and I am pleased with it. Will you donate a copy to the Franklin, Ind., College Reading Room?” Certainly sir, was the reply. Just here we heard the scream of the engine’s whistle, the door of the coach flew open, and the brakeman cried out, INDIANAPOLIS! And now a hearty shake of the hand with this young man—did we say of “common sense”? No, sir, uncommon sense! The common—that which is most common—sense of the people in these parts, is that which seems to delight in swine, lager beer, and tobacco. Wonderful mixture! Terrible effluvia!

The good young man—God bless him—stated that he was a student of the Franklin, Ind., College, had never used whisky or tobacco, and was fast growing out of meat-eating to the pure vegetarian system. His teeth, his breath, his eye, and general complexion, and his clear intellect, were a fair index, to say the least, of a decent man.

We are pushing our way across the more southern part of Illinois. This is a great country, in some respects, to say the least. While we were taking our breakfast this morning on this train, in a very fine car, we began to taste tobacco smoke, and looking around, we saw two men smoking, one using a cigar, the other, an old pipe. After pleading with them awhile, they concluded to quit while we were eating. Again, after finishing our morning meal, we stepped into a store for water; this they refused, fearing it would injure the sale of their beer. But we wanted water, which was scarce, while beer was abundant.

OUR last was finished as the train on the Indianapolis and St. Louis road was in sight of St. Louis. This road took us through one vast ocean of ripe fields of corn. The general appearance of the country is fine. When we reached East St. Louis they jammed us into long, huge omnibusses, drawn by four mules, and drove us on to a large, coarse-looking steam ferry-boat. Side by side, were four omnibusses, and the balance of the room on the boat was immediately filled up with immense loads of coal, each drawn by three mules. There is a roughness about the style in which these drivers and teamsters do business that is decidedly disagreeable.

The train from St. Louis to Kansas City was a fine one, and at 4:40, P. M. of fourth-day we were in motion. Here we took the sleeping car, which gave us select companions. We soon fell into conversation with a Chicago infidel, who, though very much of a gentleman, was decided and bold in his infidelity. He enjoyed denouncing the orthodox hell; but when we set before him the Bible doctrine of the destruction of the wicked, instead of their suffering eternal life in hell fire, it took much of the wind out of his sail. Yet he was fluent, and even eloquent, in stating his perfect satisfaction of his unbelief. And nothing seemed to dampen his zeal until we gave him a brief view of the freedom, and exalted character and the duration, of the future life on the earth, when it shall be restored to its primeval glory, and the just, and the good, and the truly noble, of all ages, sharing in the resurrection of the Bible, shall receive it as their eternal inheritance, free from the many ills of this life. Here, sir, we appealed, is a terrible loss that the unbeliever cannot afford to sustain.

If the infidel can be reached at all, it will not be done by holding before him the God-dishonoring dogma of an eternally burning hell for the wicked; but by attracting his attention to the harmonious Bible view of the restitution, and the glories and endlessness of the life to come.

At 6 A. M., this (fifth-day) morning we reached Kansas City. The omnibus took us a mile to the Union depot, where we were to take the train to Pleasanton, the place of meeting, seventy-five miles from Kansas City. Breakfast time was drawing on, and the frost of the morning could be seen everywhere. We entered the ladies’ room, and found it almost crowded with women and children, emigrating to regions still further west, whose faces, hands, and clothing, to say least, could be improved by a faithful use of soap and water. The stench of the close, heated room was intolerable. And Mrs. W. and self took up our hand luggage, and walked twenty-five rods upon a level with the tops of the houses, where room was plenty, and the morning air delicious, and there, beneath a Missouri oak, we seated ourselves upon rocks from the hight above, and enjoyed our morning meal of bread, cakes, apples, and grapes. God be thanked that there is a better way than to stuff one’s self with chickens fried in swine’s lard, greasy knickknacks generally, and hot coffee, and get the headache and the blues.

JAMES WHITE.

Pleasanton, Kan., Oct. 14, 1870.