On returning from the great camp-meeting in Eastern Maine, where I heard with deepest interest such men as Miller, Himes, and Preble, I found myself happy in the faith that Christ would come about the year 1843. I had given up all to teach the doctrine to others, and to prepare myself to do this was the great object before me. I had purchased the chart illustrating the prophecies of Daniel and John, used by lecturers at that time,49and had a good assortment of publications upon the manner, object, and time of the second advent. And with this chart hung before me, and these books and the Bible in my hands, I spent several weeks in close study, which gave me a clearer view of the subject.
In October, 1842, an Advent camp-meeting was held in Exeter, Me., which I attended. The meeting was large, tents numerous, preaching clear and powerful, and the singing of Second Advent melodies possessed a power such as I had never before witnessed in sacred songs. My Second Advent experience was greatly deepened at this meeting, and at its close I felt that I must immediately go out into the great harvest-field, and do what I could in sounding the warning. I therefore prepared three lectures, one to remove such objections as the time of the advent not to be known, and the temporal millennium, one on the signs of the times, and one on the prophecy of Daniel.
I had neither horse, saddle, bridle, nor money, yet felt that I must go. I had used my past winter’s earnings in necessary clothing, in attending Second Advent meetings, and in the purchase of books and the chart. But my father offered me the use of a horse for the winter, and Elder Polley gave me a saddle with both pads torn off, and several pieces of an old bridle. I gladly accepted these, and cheerfully placed the saddle on a beech log and nailed on the pads, fastened the pieces of the bridle together with malleable nails, folded my chart, with a few pamphlets on the subject of the advent, over my breast, snugly buttoned up in my coat, and left my father’s house on horseback.
I gave from three to six lectures in four different towns around Palmyra. Speaking, with the blessing of God, gave me freedom and confidence, and as the subject opened to me by study, reflection,50and in speaking, I found it necessary to divide subjects, so that I added one discourse, at least, to the little series, at each place. I had a good hearing at all these places, but saw no special results.
A school-mate of mine had engaged to teach school in the town of Burnham; but by accident had lost an eye, and was told by his physician that he should rest at least one week before teaching. He urged me to teach for him one week. I consented, and on the first day of school gave an appointment for evening lectures. The school-house was crowded. I gave seven lectures, which were listened to with interest and deep feeling.
At this place I began to feel the burden of the work, the condition of the people, and love for precious souls, as I had not before. Previous to this time I had taken great delight in dwelling upon the evidences of the Advent hope and faith. But now I realized that there was a solemn power in these evidences, to convict the people, such as I did not expect to realize. At the close of my last lecture, sixty arose for prayers. I felt deeply the condition of the people. But what could I do for them? I had not anticipated that I should ever have upon my hands sixty repenting sinners, and was wholly unprepared to lead them any farther. My little pond of thought, in the course of seven lectures, had run out, and I dared not undertake to preach a practical discourse for fear it would prove a failure, and injure the well-begun work. In this state of things it occurred to me to send for my brother, who had been in the ministry five years before me, and was favorable to the Advent doctrine. He came and labored six weeks, baptized, and organized a large church, for which they paid him sixty dollars. I paid, at the close of my week’s teaching and lecturing, one dollar for horse-keeping, and left for the Kennebeck. My brother afterward51told me that every one he baptized dated their experience from my lectures.
At one of the places near my native town, where I had given lectures, I met a gentleman who seemed much interested in the soon-coming of the Lord, who gave me an urgent invitation to visit Brunswick, Me. He stated that there had been no preaching on the subject in that part of the State, and that the Freewill Baptists, who were very numerous on the west side of the Kennebec river, from Augusta to Brunswick, would willingly give me a hearing. From that moment I felt inclined to make my course toward Brunswick. So, in January, 1843, I left on horseback, thinly clad, and without money, to go more than a hundred miles among strangers.
Night came on as I drew near Augusta, the capital of the State, and I inquired at a humble cottage for entertainment, stating that I was a penniless preacher, and wished to find rest with some Christian, who would willingly care for me and my tired horse without charge. “I am a member of the Christian church of this place,” said he, “please stop with me.” I gladly accepted the cordial invitation.
During the evening my friend stated that Elder Pearl, a Christian minister, was to preach on the next Sunday, and invited me to stop and give evening lectures in the school-house, and spend the Sunday with my old friend and acquaintance, Elder Pearl. I did so, and had a good hearing, and was kindly received by Elder Pearl, who loved the doctrine of Christ’s soon coming. I was also invited to speak in the school district east of that, near the Kennebec river. The house was filled, and many stood outside at the open windows. A Universalist opposed the doctrine I was presenting to the people, and finding he could prevail nothing, brought a52Mr. Western, the editor of the Augusta Age, a noted Universalist, to oppose me, and, at the close of my lecture, introduced him to the people, and invited them to stop and hear what he had to say. I was too hoarse to reply, and stated that I had no further claims on the congregation. A dozen voices cried, “Clear the way, and let us pass out.” Only about twenty-five, and those of the baser sort, remained to hear Mr. W. They were, of course, ready to receive what the speaker chose to say, who, being grieved and angry with the youthful lecturer for leaving, and with the people for following me, was in a state of mind to excite in them a mob spirit.
The reader may think me rash in depriving the editor of the Age of a hearing. But I was an inexperienced youth, and feared a battle, and took this course to avoid it. But a battle came the next evening of a different kind. Mr. W.’s hearers decided before leaving the school-house to get all to join them who would, and on the next evening break up the meeting.
As I was about to go to the house the next evening, several of my friends came to me and stated that a mob of at least three hundred was around the school-house. They warned me, as I regarded my life, to remain away from the meeting. I went before the Lord with the matter, then told my friends that I should go to the school-house, trusting in God to defend me. And as I drew near the house I heard the shouting of the mob, and was again warned by the friends who accompanied me to take their advice, and go no further lest I lose my life. I then stated to them that I believed the Lord would in some way defend me, and pressed forward. My friends had resolved that if I went to the place of meeting they would go with me, and stand by me to the last. We found the school-house53filled with women, all the windows taken out, and the house surrounded by men enough to fill three such houses. I pressed through the crowd and made my way to the desk. The greatest fear prevailed within the house, while unearthly yells seemed to be the delight of the mob without. The Universalist, who had taken the trouble to get Mr. W. to the place to oppose me, stood close to the desk, and, as I entered it, said to me:—
“This, sir, is the result of your conduct last evening, in refusing to hear the gentleman I brought here to reply to you. Your meetings will be broken up.”
I replied, “Very well, sir, if it is the will of God, let it be so.” I then called the meeting to order, and prayed, standing upon my feet. This I did for two reasons. First, want of room to kneel, and, second, it was safer for me to stand with my eyes open and watch this infuriated Universalist, who seemed to have all he could do to keep from striking me.
While praying, a snow-ball whistled by my head and struck on the ceiling behind me. I read my text from Peter, relative to the burning day of God, and commenced commenting upon it, but could be heard by only a few near me, in consequence of the shouting of the mob. Many snow-balls were thrown at me through the open windows, but none hit me. I raised my voice above the noise of the mob, but while turning for my proof-texts they seemed to gain advantage over me. And there was too much excitement and fear for my proofs to tell on any mind.
My clothing and also my Bible were wet from the melted fragments of a hundred snow-balls which had broken upon the ceiling behind me, and had spattered over me and it. That was no time for logic, so I closed my Bible and entered into a54description of the terrors of the day of God, and the awful end of the ungodly. These opened before me wonderfully. Language and power of voice seemed to be given me for the occasion. I was nearly lost to all around me, while the naked glare of the fires of the day of God seemed to light up the field of slaughter of the ungodly men before me. I cried, “Repent and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, or you will drink of the wrath of God. Repent, and call on God for mercy and pardon. Turn to Christ and get ready for his coming, or in a little from this, on rocks and mountains you will call in vain. You scoff now, but you will pray then.”
The mob seemed more quiet. The night before, a spike was thrown at me and hit me on the forehead, and fell into my Bible, and I put it into my pocket. Inexpressible pity and love for the crowd came over me, and as I was pointing sinners to the Lamb of God, with tears, I held up the spike, saying: “Some poor sinner cast this spike at me last evening. God pity him. The worst wish I have for him is, that he is at this moment as happy as I am. Why should I resent this insult when my Master had them driven through his hands,” and at the moment raising my arms and placing my hands upon the ceiling behind me, in the position of Christ on the cross.
The Spirit of God accompanied the words and the gesture to the hearts of the crowd. Some shrieked, and a general groan was heard. “Hark! hark!” cried a score of voices. In a moment all was silent. In tears I was calling on sinners to turn and live. I spoke of the love of God, the sacrifice of Christ; his undying pity for vile sinners. I then spoke of his coming in glory to save all who would seek him now. More than a hundred were in tears. “Do you want to see a happy man?” said I, “please look55at me.” Many were weeping aloud, and I was getting so hoarse that I could hardly be heard for the penitent cries and sobs of those around me. “Who are willing to seek Christ,” said I, “and with me suffer persecution, and be ready for his coming? Who in this crowd wish me to pray for them, that this may be their happy portion? As many as do, please rise up.” Nearly one hundred arose. It was nine in the evening, and I was hoarse and weary. I closed with benediction, took my chart and Bible, and made my way out through the subdued crowd. Some one locked arms with me to assist and guard me. His countenance seemed impressively familiar, yet I did not know him. When I had passed the crowd, I missed him, and, from that evening, who he was, or how he left me, and where he went, have been mysteries. Was it an angel of God, sent to stand by me in the perils of that evening? Who can say it was not?
My lectures continued in this place three or four evenings without the least opposition, and a general reformation followed. In about eight weeks I returned to the place again, and as I entered the door of an especial friend, near the old scene of battle, I recognized my Universalist friend. He had been driving some exciting conversation with the lady of the house about me. Both appeared greatly agitated as I entered. The lady greeted me cordially, but with expressions of astonishment that I was in her house again. The Universalist made for the door, and left in a most abrupt manner. The lady then stated that this man had been talking of me to her in a most abusive manner, and that the last statement he made as I came to her door was as follows: “White is a rascal. He has been overtaken in crime, and is safe in jail. One of my neighbors told me that he saw him yesterday in Augusta jail.”
This man was overtaken in his guilty folly in a56manner he little expected. He had certainly succeeded poorly in his war against me. I did not see this Universalist, neither did I hear of him after his hasty retreat homeward, showing as much shame as the face of a guilty man is capable of silently expressing. But let the reader go back with me after these eight weeks to the time I closed my labors in this place.
An invitation came for me to visit Sidney, and lecture in the Methodist meeting-house. Cheerfully I accepted, and found a large house filled with attentive hearers. The first evening I spoke on the millennium with freedom. And as I entered the house the second evening, I was told that Elder Nickerson, the presiding elder, would be present that evening. I felt my youth, my lack of general knowledge of the Scriptures, and my brief experience in the things of God. I trembled for the result of that meeting, as I learned that this presiding elder was opposed to the doctrine I was teaching. I was on Methodist ground. This led me to pray most earnestly to God for help. My confidence that the Lord would be with me grew firm as I entered the pulpit.
“I learn,” said I, “that Elder Nickerson is in the congregation. Will he please take a seat with me, and join in the services of the evening?” He cheerfully came forward, and I gave him an Advent hymn from the Methodist book to read, and found him willing to pray. I then sung an Advent melody, and took the text: “But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of Heaven, but my Father only.” Matt. 24:36. I stated:—
That the subject was the second advent.
That God had not revealed the day nor the hour of that event.
That Christ did say, in this connection, that when his people should see the signs in the sun, moon, and stars, that they should know that his coming was near, even at the doors, as truly as men know that summer is near when they see the trees of the field send forth their buds and unfold their leaves.
4. That, as it was in the days of Noah, so should it be at the coming of the Son of man.
The work of warning the people of the coming flood was given to righteous Noah. And in order for him to know when to build the ark, and when to raise his warning voice, the year of the flood was given to him. So shall it be at the coming of the Son of man. The world is to be warned of its approaching doom. And to this end the prophecies of Daniel and John especially point to this time. The signs in the heavens, on earth, in the church, and a wicked world, all show that Christ and the day of vengeance are at hand.
The people of that place were divided between Methodism and Universalism, and it seemed a favorable time to show up from Matt. 24 the view held by Universalists that Christ came at the destruction of Jerusalem. In this I had had some experience, and succeeded in pleasing Elder Nickerson, who made a few general remarks, not directly opposing me, for fear, as I supposed, of pleasing the Universalists, who evidently felt stirred at my discourse. The meeting closed with good feelings between us. But as I left the house, I received an urgent request by several gentlemen to call at the hotel the next morning, at nine, to answer some questions relative to what I had said of Universalism.
At the hour appointed, I found myself surrounded by several Universalists, who were evidently in an unfriendly mood, and as many Methodists, who had come to see that the young stripling should be well treated. This was kind in my Methodist friends. The interview lasted till the clock struck twelve. My Methodist friends expressed themselves satisfied58with my answers. The landlord, who was the leading spirit among those professing Universalism, then arose and said to me:—
“Mr. White, please walk out to dinner. This afternoon I wish to show you that there is no connection between the Old and New Testaments.”
I was surprised to find that this professed champion of Universalism was really an infidel, and declined dining with him, stating that my mission was to those who received the sacred Scriptures of both Testaments as a harmonious revelation from God. This closed our interview.
My Methodist friends charged me to be on my guard lest the Universalists take advantage of some unguarded expression, and hurt my influence. This was indeed kind in them, and for which I have ever felt to respect them. I gave a few more lectures, and parted with the Christian people of that place, with their thanks for my labors among them, and their expressions of joy that Universalism had been fearlessly exposed without giving its adherents a chance to hurt me.
My mind was still on the field of labor farther down the river toward Brunswick. My labors thus far in Augusta and Sidney, seemed more accidental, or providential, than in accordance with my design when I left home. And now, with the peace of God ruling in my heart, I journeyed on. As I passed a neat cottage in the town of Richmond, the impression came upon me powerfully, as distinctly as if a voice said unto me, “Call into this house.” I obeyed, and asked for a drink of water. A middle-aged lady laid down the paper she was reading, and upon it placed her glasses, and gravely said to me: “Please be seated.” As she stepped to another room to wait upon me, I took up her paper, and to my joyful surprise, saw that it was the Signs of the Times, published by J. V. Himes, No. 14, Devonshire street,59Boston. And as I took the water, the following conversation, in substance, commenced:—
“I see you have the Signs of the Times, which teaches the peculiar sentiments of one William Miller. Are you a subscriber for it?”
“I am, and I think it an excellent periodical. Would you like to read it?”
I took the paper from her hand, and enjoyed reading several stirring articles from able pens, then passed it to her, and, with an air of indifference, asked: “What do you do with the long-cherished opinion of nearly all great and good men, of all denominations, that the temporal millennium, in which the conversion of the whole world and the complete triumph of the church is to take place prior to the second advent?”
“I reject the doctrine. And you are mistaken, sir, as to the millennium being a long-cherished sentiment. It is an unscriptural fable of recent date. It has not been the faith of the church until the last century. The parable of the wheat and tares, as explained by our Lord, and his declaration that as it was in the days of Noah so should it be at the coming of the Son of man, forbids the idea. In fact, the prophets of the Old Testament, and the apostles of the New, describe the last days as dark, gloomy and perilous, with the church fallen, and far from God, and the world filled with crime and violence.”
“Admitting that you are right on this point, is it not very wrong to set the time, as Mr. Miller has done?”
“Brother Miller, in searching the Scriptures, has found by the prophetic periods, as he thinks, the time of the end, and, as an honest man, has taken the cross to teach it to the world. He also sees by the signs of the times that Christ’s coming is near, even at the doors, and takes the safe side of the question to be ready, and to warn others to get ready.60And all these texts usually quoted to show that men are to know nothing of the period of the second advent, do not prove what they are said to prove.”
It was evident that this woman was mistress of the subject, and as she proceeded to give the proofs in support of definite time, I interrupted her, stating that I would no longer conceal from her my faith and mission. “I am,” said I, “a full believer in the second advent of Christ as taught by William Miller, and have left all to proclaim it.”
“Thank the Lord!” she exclaimed, “my prayer is answered in sending you here. My husband is a Freewill Baptist minister, and will be glad to have you speak to the people of his charge here upon the coming of Christ. Let me have your coat and hat. I will send for some one to care for your horse, and will send an appointment to the school for you to lecture this evening.”
“What is your husband’s name?” I inquired.
“Andrew Rollins,” was the reply.
“Is he a believer in the Advent doctrine?”
“He does not oppose, and is favorable.”
Soon Elder Rollins came in, and his wife introduced me to him as a Second Advent lecturer. He asked me a few questions in a grave manner, and looked me over closely, as much as to say, “You are a young stripling to go abroad to lecture upon the prophecies.” I saw that he was a strong man, watching all my words; therefore thought it best for me to be guarded.
The appointment flew through that portion of the town, and, at the time appointed, what has ever been known as the Reed meeting-house, was filled with both the pious and the curious. And as I sung an Advent melody, all listened with solemn silence, and some wept. Elder Rollins then prayed in a most solemn and fervent manner for the blessing of God to rest upon the youthful stranger who was about61to speak to the people. This prayer drew me nearer to him, and I began to feel that in this minister I had found a true friend. And so it proved.
At the close of my lectures, there was a general interest and deep conviction upon all minds. The school children committed to memory all my texts, and almost everywhere you might hear them repeating this one from Dan. 8: “Then I heard one saint speaking, and another saint said unto that certain saint which spake, How long shall be the vision concerning the daily sacrifice, and the transgression of desolation, to give both the sanctuary and the host to be trodden under foot? And he said unto me, Unto two thousand and three hundred days, then shall the sanctuary be cleansed.”
As I was about to leave, Elder Rollins said to me, “In two weeks our quarterly meeting, embracing about thirty churches in this locality, will hold its session at Richmond village. I would like to have you give some lectures before the preachers, delegates, and brethren who will be present. I will call the matter up in a business session, and they will probably vote you room, if you will decide to be present and speak to us.” “Certainly, I shall be glad of the opportunity to speak what I regard important truth to the heads of your denomination in this part of the State, and will, Providence permitting, be at the meeting in season.” This said, I rode off on horseback to fill appointments in Gardiner and Bowdoinham.
After filling these appointments, 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: “Brother White, you will find a seat here by me.” After the sermon, liberty was given for remarks, and I spoke with freedom upon the Christian life, and the triumphs of the just at62the second advent of Christ. Many voices cried, “Amen! amen!” and most in that large congregation were in tears.
The Freewill 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 in favor of a lecture at that meeting, and the next day rescinded the vote. This displeased him much, and his statement to me relative to the action of his people as to my speaking to them explained to me the existing state of things. Near the close of that meeting, after getting my consent, Elder Rollins arose and said:—
“Brother 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 against my lectures, 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. 24. 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, 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 few64who 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 Elder 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 firm 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 to travel 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 the65opposition 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, and 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. I called for 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 loved Christ, and the doctrine of his soon coming, to pray for me, and stated that 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 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 then 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 without foundation. Do you think the work of reform has been injured here this evening?”
“No! no! Go on, Brother White; go on. The Lord is here.”
This meeting, apparently swept away all opposition,66and 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. When I was commenting upon Daniel 7, I stated that it was a historical fact that on February 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 let the gentleman keep his money, and have the truth on the subject besides. There was 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 Quinnum and Hathern. 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 Freewill 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.”
As this minister raised his hands to dismiss the68people 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 had stood at the door watching for my arrival, who took the poor creature, and, as I supposed, took care of it. But 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 there was seen 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 Daniel 8, 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. All his propositions and proof-texts, which he tediously brought forward, had been examined 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 Elder 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 Elder Lamb’s meeting-house, a very large house 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 little more than curiosity, and let me go.
At Bowdoin, Elder Purington received me as a brother, and stood by me till my work was done in that place. The large house 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 of labor. 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. Elder 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 Freewill Baptists. There had been one large church in the place, composed mostly of farmers possessing more wealth 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 Freewill Baptist meeting-houses, each occupied every 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.71These were much affected by my lectures, and sought the Lord, while their parents seemed unmoved. I will leave this place in my narrative, for the present, to return again, as I have something more to relate of the good work here in its proper place.