A BLACK MOB.
About fifteen or more of the baser sort, who were drunk and mad on the wine of Babylon, with their faces blackened, sprang into the room and seized upon us and started to take us out. Brethren quickly saw the situation and were not slow in our help. But the room being seated with backed seats, and the space between us and the door being all occupied by the sons of Belial, not many saints could get near us. The enemies of the Lord all having hold of each other and the front ones hold on us, we were pretty rapidly drawn to the door. But a few of the little ones were pulling back with all their might. Brother Barney and Sister Frankie Miller were in the hottest of the fight! Mother and Nan could not get to us.
Hallelujah! We praised God every step and felt the perfect peace of God in our souls, Brother George Roush had hold on our left arm and was our principal stay. The black clan, knowing him as a very strong man, thought to beat him loose from his hold on us; but he received the blows on his face without slacking his hold. God bless that brother. The Lord did not suffer him to be hurt to amount to anything. One of the black clan brought with him a pretty wieldy little cudgel, which Brother Jacob Roush grabbed and wrested out of his hands. And being an officer of the law, of whom the Word of the Lord says, "He beareth not the sword [or club] in vain," he began to apply it vigorously on the black heads. Up to this second the contest stood in breathless uncertainty. We were hauled to the very threshold, and all the desperadoes were determined to have their victim. Once the threshold crossed, we were to be dragged out into the dark night to suffer all that Satan might dictate in the hearts of fiendish Catholic sect idolaters and wicked sinners. But all at once the Spirit said to our soul, "I will not leave thee in the hands of the wicked." Almost immediately every black hand let go and fled. Glory be to our God, he always causes us to triumph through Christ Jesus.
The little ones said it looked as though we should be pulled to pieces, but, praise God, not a hair of our head was harmed, not a muscle strained, and not a thread of our clothes torn. Glory to Jesus for his precious deliverance of us out of the jaws of the fierce beasts! It was reported that their intention was to strip us and give us a good lashing with whips and then serve us with a dessert of rotten eggs. We praised God for their defeat, but believe we should have praised him and leaped still more with the glory in our soul had he seen fit to let the wicked accomplish their end. After the struggle we sang a hymn of praise to God and resumed our discourse in the Spirit of the Lord.
Before we came to the place, our eyes rested on 1 Thessalonians 2:1-2 and as we read, the Spirit gave us the words as descriptive of what we should meet. Praise God, we were willing to be shamefully entreated for Christ's sake and were none the less "bold in our God to speak unto you the gospel of God with much contention," "knowing that our entrance in unto you was not in vain.
The night before the black mob came we dreamed of fighting black dogs, which finally fled from before our face. Some were apprehensive they would repeat the attack, and there were all kinds of "rumors of wars." Had we not been saved above all fears we should have escaped out of that place as soon as possible, but we remained over the following Sabbath.
From Ohio the course of our little company of evangelists turned westward again. While they were holding meeting at Payne, Ohio, Brothers Williams and Yoder, from LaGrange County, Indiana, arrived to convey them seventy-two miles back to Brushy Prairie, Indiana. On their return they reached a point near Antwerp, Ohio, the first evening. As soon as they came into the neighborhood the news was sounded out, and the house where they were stopping was quickly filled with people who had come to hear the words of eternal life.
When we landed there, we began to think of our bodies, and felt sorry the word had gone out announcing a meeting. We had been up, some until twelve, and others until two o'clock, the night before, and wishing to start by daylight on a fifty-five mile drive the next day, it seemed that the rest was a matter of necessity. But as the people came together, our hearts, burdened for lost souls, soon forgot circumstances, and the meeting continued till eleven o'clock. All glory to our God, who is 'able to make all grace abound unto us, so that we always having all sufficiency in all things may abound unto every good work.'
Meetings were held in LaGrange County, Indiana, after which the company were conveyed in a two-days journey by lumber-wagon, to Beaver Dam. While engaged in meetings in this part of the State he was called home to the Office again, to assist with the third edition of the song book. The Publishing Office by this time had been moved to Grand Junction, Van Buren County, Michigan.
Brother Fisher, having gone to the Office, wrote for us to come also, as we were needed. The interest of the meeting was such that we thought we should by no means leave. But as we fasted and prayed, the Spirit of God bade us go immediately, assuring us that he would put his Spirit on dear Brother Barney Warren and cause him to preach the word to the people.
Though the little ones were loath to have us leave so suddenly, the grace of God enabled all to say, "Amen," and in a few moments we were on our way to the station, and several hours ride on Father's swift chariots landed us at the Trumpet Office once more, after an absence of five months.
Oh, praise God for his glorious blessings upon our soul and body! Having had no ministerial help, preaching nearly all the time twice a day, with much altar-work, singing, etc., besides doing one man's writing keeping The Trumpet filled and attending to a large correspondence, hymn writing, etc., it is wonderful, a constant miracle, how God can do so much through a poor, naturally frail body. We scarcely get six hours sleep out of twenty-four. Glory to God, we do love this holy war for our God against the powers of hell and for the rescue of perishing souls. If the Lord saw fit to keep us working the whole time day and night, and sustained us, we should say, Amen.
Oh, how glad we were to see the beloved little ones at home once more! God bless their souls. How grateful we are to God for the faithful labors of these dear ones. Truly they endure all things for the elect's sake, that their fingers may send forth the bread of heaven to the hungry souls. Dear brethren, when you read The Trumpet so eagerly do not forget to pray for those blessed children who are so devoted to this great work. We were in hopes that God would give us the sweet luxury of some nights' rest with the little ones at home. But lo, here came the dear saints from every direction wishing Brother Joseph and us to come here and there to preach for them. . . .
When we left our little company we expected to return soon again, but as the second edition of Songs of Victory is nearly exhausted we have to remain here to help print the third edition soon.
Praise God, nearly thirty-five hundred books have gone forth singing the praises of God. May God speed all his flying angels with the everlasting gospel to this dark and wretched world, so near its awful doom. Amen.
Brother Warner remained at the Office until early in March, when, by agreement, he met his little company again at Walkerton, Indiana, where they had held meetings almost a year before. Frankie Miller refers in her diary to their meeting in Walkerton on the night of their arrival there.
That night we all met at Brother Barden's to worship God. After the meeting had nicely begun, in walked Brother Warner. Well, it is needless to say we were all very thankful to see his dear face again. He said that this was the second time he had been mobbed. The first time was by the black mob near Rising Sun, Ohio, and the second time was this time by the White Horse Cavalry.
Sister Miller also relates an instance of healing that occurred before they left Walkerton.
Wednesday morning, the 13th, Brother Wolfenberger came out to Brother Barden's, where we were, before breakfast. His little boy five years old was very sick with spinal disease and had high fever. The doctors held a council over him the day before. We all went over about nine o'clock. The doctor was there. The little fellow was crying, and burning up with fever. He had not eaten anything but a little scraped apple since Saturday. The doctor tried to open his eyes. and wanted to put a fly blister on his spine. Brother Warner told the parents that if they wanted to put the case in God's hands they must drop the doctor and his medicines and take Christ alone for their physician. They were both willing. and said they believed God would heal the child. After looking to God in prayer, Brother Warner anointed the child in the name of Jesus, and we laid on hands, and God healed the little sufferer. Oh, praise God for his goodness! The fever was broken, and he sweat freely and opened his eyes very bright and asked for a cookie. He ate two cookies and some bologna very greedily, and teased to be dressed and go to the depot with his papa after his sister's satchel.
The daughter had been attending school in Auburn, and they telegraphed for her, thinking the child could not live. Before we reached the place, the daughter had gone to God in prayer asking him to pardon her sins and to save her little brother. After the child was healed, a young woman working in the family, who had been bitter against the power of God and against us, fell on her knees and cried to God for mercy, and she received the spirit of adoption. She was a member of the United Brethren without a spark of salvation.
We present extracts from Brother Warner's report of this second meeting at Walkerton.
Here we set the battle in array last April in a two weeks siege. Hell was moved to the bottomless pit. Babylon foamed and howled, and, like the ancient Pharisees, stirred up the people to "shamefully entreat us," as they did Paul at Philippi. But, thank God, in the fires of persecution and storms of opposition God saved a few souls, and these we find standing fast; and a few others the Lord has added to his own church, who are praising God for the great salvation. We soon found that the gospel of Christ had grown much in the favor of the people. The Lord God of power had greatly turned the minds and hearts of the people to endorse and love the truth. Men of principle gave all to understand that if they attempted to disturb our meetings again as they had before they must suffer the application of the law. Praise God, the people heeded the warning, and God also inclined them to give good attention.
We occupied a very large hall for two weeks and had it well filled with hearers. Multitudes were under deep conviction, but were unwilling to pay the price of real salvation. Several, however, were saved by the power and grace of God, converted and sanctified, and a few made their escape fully out of Babylon and were wonderfully blessed of the Lord. Were it not for shoddy holiness and stagnant pools of sectish religion in the way of God's salvation, a great harvest of souls could be brought to Jesus. But the corrupt preachers in this place will have to answer for the awful influence that is damning multitudes of poor sinners, both in and out of their sect enclosures. On the last two nights of our meeting, there was also meeting in the Methodist house in the town. Some of that sect were greatly convicted to escape out of her; but we could feel the influence of those meetings as sensibly as if the Holy Spirit were incarnate and were being literally crucified in the town, as the Spirit and Word were killed "in the streets of the great city, which spiritually is called Sodom and Egypt" (Revelation 11:8). Oh, how sensibly we felt the "fellowship of the suffering" of Jesus Christ! While the sweet peace of God flows a deep, everlasting undercurrent in our souls, we often feel the slaughter of immortal spirits in the streets of Babylon until our heart sickens and we long to leave this world and be with Jesus. But like the apostle, we always conclude that "for us to live is Christ"; and the rescue of perishing souls from the brink of hell fires us with a willingness to expose our soul to the hatred and jeers, violence and murder in hearts that are drunk on the wine of beast religion. The United Brethren preacher at this place, whom Satan used with such diligence against the work when we were here last year, was much tormented by our return. "The wine of the wrath of her fornication" so foamed in his heart that, we were told by good authority, he said that he wished we were stripped, tarred and feathered, and then set on fire, and added that he would like to touch the match himself. And this wretched priest of Baal professes sanctification, and frequently leads the Babylon holiness band's meetings. Today we were told that he regretted much that his words came to our ears. That is like the thief that repented bitterly, not of his theft, but that he was caught in the deed.
A sister came in from the country and received full salvation. There being a union meeting-house in the community, she and others desired us to come there and preach the gospel. We agreed to do so on Sabbath evening if the house could be obtained. She thought there would be no difficulty. But as soon as the matter became known, a Methodist local preacher of the vicinity began to rage. He came to Walkerton on Saturday and, "foaming out his shame" before the people, declared that if we attempted to enter that pulpit he would "break our head," "break our neck," "kill us, etc.
Bishop Foster speaks of his M. E. sect as follows: "Oh, how changed! A hireling ministry will be a feeble, a timid, a truckling, a time serving ministry, without faith, endurance, and holy power." Through this corrupt ministry "worldly socials, festivals, concerts, and such like, have taken the place of the religious gatherings, revival meetings, class- and prayer-meetings of the past. Oh, how changed!" Yes, saith the prophet, "How is the faithful city become an harlot! it was full of judgment; righteousness lodged in it: but now murderers. Thy silver is become dross, thy wine mixed with water: thy princes are rebellious, and companions of thieves: every one loveth gifts, and followeth after rewards" (Isaiah 1:21-23).
Surely we have come to the last days. For, "this know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God: having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away (2 Timothy 3:1-5)
Yea, "Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and is become the habitation of devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean and hateful bird."
Oh, the rottenness, fierce hatred, and soul murdering wickedness of sect Babylon! If there were only one hundred professors of Christ in the United States, and they all holy men and women of God, filled with faith and the Holy Spirit, walking unto all pleasing before God and exemplifying the pure life of Christ before men, and this generation had never known any other kind of professors of Christ, the masses of the people could be rapidly reached by the gospel of Jesus and saved from sin. But the devil has the world piled up with corrupt, proud, filthy, sectish religionists, 'professing that they know God; but in works they deny him, being abominable and disobedient, and unto every good work reprobate' (Titus 1:16).
And because God has given us an honest heart to confess the sins of the professed Christendom and show the people that Christ is not the author of this mass of spiritual whoredom and abominable wickedness, which has filled hell with lost souls and covered the earth with blackness and infidelity, the devil howls and rages in his sectish priests, who are ready to murder us as the Jews did Christ, Stephen, and thousands of other martyrs who testified against them and their evil deeds.
As we shall have to meet the people of Walkerton and surroundings face to face in the day of judgment, God holds us responsible to tell them that the greatest obstruction to the salvation of souls is their shoddy, sectish holiness and their abominable, worldly religion.
Up to the summer of 1887 the evangelistic efforts of Brother Warner and his company were confined to the States of the Middle West. But now came a more extensive tour, that should take them as far West as Denver, Colorado. On June 24 they left the Office and after a few meetings in LaGrange and Jay Counties, Indiana, departed for the West. They stopped at Gilman and Onarga, Illinois, and Hayesville, Iowa. From Keokuk, Iowa, they traveled by steamboat to St. Louis, where the following report was written:
"Oh, praise the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together!" We have just landed here from the steamboat Sidney, having had a very delightful trip down the Mississippi from Keokuk. We made the trip of two hundred miles in twenty hours. The river being very low at this time, much caution was necessary to avoid running aground. Doubtless one hundred miles were traveled in passing from one side of the river to the other to keep the deepest channel. We were a day and a night at Keokuk, waiting the coming of the boat. The Gem City was to have reached Keokuk the first day and then return down the river; but being late she turned around at Quincy and started back, leaving us to wait until the next day. Praise God, we confessed his all-wise hand in the matter and thanked him for the prolonged wait, believing it was all ordered of him. This morning about daybreak we passed the Gem City, she having stuck fast in the sand. So the Lord was good to his little ones and gave us a safe and very joyful voyage. Oh, the goodness and wisdom of God our heavenly Father for placing the great rivers and lakes in the earth as a beautiful means of travel! It is so much more pleasant than by railroad. Though the speed is not more than half so great, we can very pleasantly improve the time reading and writing. However, this trip was so wonderfully enjoyed by us that we could do no more than feast upon the beauties of nature and praise the Lord. The river abounds in beautiful green islands, and all her verdant banks are delightful. Just below the mouth of the Illinois River, for a few miles, the hand of God has skillfully carved out of the high rocky shore very beautiful scallops and great piers and towers, and even some appearances of partly ruined mansions and rustic stone buildings.
No one else on board the vessel seemed to be delighted with these vast and beautiful works as were our company, because unacquainted with our dear Father, whose hand of love has formed them all. Oh, how blessed the pure in heart who see God all along the voyage of life! What a vastly different aspect everything wears when looked at in the light of God! Oh, how poor and meager the pleasures of the children of this world! How utterly tasteless and empty their thoughts and conversation! No place on earth serves better to call out the glories of a life hid with Christ in God in its striking contrast with the dark minds and almost senseless twaddle of the aliens than the deck of a steamboat. Even the more elevated seldom have a worthy thought on immortal mind; while every object our eyes lighted upon in the passing panorama of nature inspired our souls with joyful acknowledgments of God, and moved our hearts and lips to praise his name. Oh, what a rapturous and heavenly kingdom we live in, all flashing with glory and yet hidden from the blinded sinners! Having lost our lives for Christ's sake we are raised to the heavenly joys of the life of God in us, a life of bliss, that already transcends the sinner's loftiest ideal of heaven itself. Oh, the beauties of holiness! "Out of Zion the perfection of beauty, God hath shined." Never in all past experience has our heart flowed out more in gratitude to God for the inexpressible bliss of a pure Conscience, a pure heart through the blood of Christ, an innocent life through grace divine, a conversation in heaven flowing from a good treasure in the heart, and, above all, a soul illuminated and inspired to see and enjoy God in every bright sunbeam that gleams on earth and sparkles in the silvery stream and every object upon the footstool of God.
God is love; the angels know
That Father dearly loves us so.
But, oh, the ransomed feel within
The burning love we try to sing!
This evening we start for St. James, Missouri, the Lord willing, where we expect to meet once more our dear Brother J. Cole, and many others dear to our hearts by the fellowship of the Spirit whose faces we have never seen. And best of all, we are expecting a glorious harvest of souls turned to righteousness by the mighty power and love of God.
The next report was written from St. James, Crawford County, one hundred miles west of St. Louis. Brother B. E. Warren says that after buying their tickets for St. James they had hut seven cents left, and that after arriving at the latter place Brother Warner went to the post office and received a letter containing five dollars from S. L. Speck, who felt led of the Lord to send that amount. Brother Warner's account of their reception in St. James, as follows, is interesting:
The night following our last report, which was from St. Louis, Missouri, we landed at St. James, at 12:30 A.M. The Lord directed us to a friendly inn, where we rested until the morning. As we sat at the breakfast table our grateful hearts flowed out in our sweet little table thanksgiving song. The Lord wonderfully blessed that sweet offering of praise. It rang out and greeted the ears of all in hearing as the music of heaven. After meal, requests soon came in for songs. The Holy Spirit gloriously inspired our voices to sing his praises. Many people soon collected in front of the room and some came in. After a few hymns, we had family worship. We invited all that would come to come in and bow with us in prayer. Some did so. The Lord blessed our souls. Soon Brother J. H. Morrison came into town, and seeing the throng in front of the hotel he asked the cause, and was told that "your people have come to town." He came into the waiting room and introduced himself, and the Spirit of God gave us a joyful meeting. Sinners looked on with wonder and amazement, and were led to say, "These are truly the real children of God, and this is the right way," according to the words of our Savior, "By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one for another." Many seemed quite serious. Had we tried to respond to the requests of the people we should have kept singing all day without cessation.
The people desired Brother Morrison to keep us right there and have a meeting that night in town, saying they would see that all our expenses there should be paid. The landlady and family were also very anxious we should stay, and treated us with much kindness. The Lord reward them. The Methodist preacher also came to see what this Pentecost fire was that had come to town. When asked if we could have their meeting-house that night he replied that he was going to "begin a protracted meeting tonight." Suddenly the preacher concluded a protracted meeting was needed in his charge. Whoever heard of a Methodist minister commencing a protracted meeting in the month of July in the latitude of central Missouri, especially since that sect has gone spiritually to the frigid zone where, as their oldest living bishop says, "spirituality is frozen to death"? Quite a capacious hall was procured and well filled, and we enjoyed preaching the precious gospel to the people. About all received the word. The M. E. meeting consisted of three or four women, and was not further protracted.
The day of our arrival here came also dear Brother C. C. Knight, from Fulton, Illinois, with tent and equipment to accompany us on our Western campaign. He is full of faith and the Holy Ghost and is a good help in the work.
The next day we moved out to the campground, which is about ten miles from St. James and near the Merrimac River. Here we met our dearly beloved Brother Cole, who spent a year with us in Michigan a few years ago: also his sister Mary, a chosen and anointed instrument of God to preach and testify the gospel of the grace of God.
At this campmeeting the little company were to encounter a new problem. As soon as they arrived at the place of meeting they were accorded a strange reception. Those who were supposed to be saints at that place came to meet them, some dancing on one leg, some roiling their eyes in their head, others gibbering in tongues, or jerking, or falling stiff, etc. At first they did not know what to make of the strange performance. At this place also was another attempt by a mob to capture Brother Warner. His report continues:
We met also a much larger host of saints than we had expected to find in this country. Praise God for this! But oh, how soon we saw and felt that Satan, the deceiver, had passed a dreadful network of deception over them, or nearly all of them! Unseemly and even hideous operations and contortions were carried on and called the manifestations of the Spirit and power of God. We began at once to rebuke it in the name of the Lord Jesus. God gloriously blessed our souls in preaching his word and assured us that he had much people there who were honest and sincere at heart and who would be delivered by the presentation of his word. The supposed gift of tongues was alarmingly increasing. Indian war dances, etc., had turned the church of God into something quite different, a disgusting maze of confusion. We were helped of God in teaching them "how they ought to behave themselves in the house of God, which is the church of the living God."
A terrible nervous jerking had seized upon many in the meetings, which in some cases resembled much St. Vitas' dance. We speak of these things in order to give the saints of God everywhere the benefit of what these precious souls have learned in the dear school of experience. We had never seen such manifestation except in persons possessed with devils, and yet the Spirit of God showed us these were not so possessed, but were, for the most part, still owned of the Lord. We read 1 Corinthians 12, 13, 14, and showed the beautiful harmony of the church under the control of the Spirit of God; that 'love does not behave itself unseemly'; that the gift of tongues was not of general usefulness, and was a sign to the Jews, not generally edifying to the church; that other gifts should be sought in preference, and unless he or some one else interpret, the person having the gift should keep silent or speak to himself; that 'five words with the understanding is better than ten thousand in an unknown tongue'; that spasmodic jerking is not mentioned in the Bible as a manifestation of God's Spirit. but is ascribed to a malignant spirit.
We renounced that working as of the devil. It seems that one brother who had been powerfully charged by the Holy Spirit had become puffed up, which gave place to this satanic working. Then Satan made it the standard of being filled with the Spirit and power of God; therefore many earnestly prayed for it. They forgot that the Holy Spirit makes intercession for us only according to the will of God, and whatsoever one prays for outside the will of God must be suggested by some other spirit. And as God has not promised to answer such a prayer, the devil steps in and answers it. And now, since delivered, the dear saints see and confess that the incoming of this power dimmed their faith, joy, and peace. It was nothing less than Satan touching and playing upon their nerves and upon their imaginations. Their motives having been good, namely, to seek the real power of God, their consciences were not defiled-at least, with most of them. But some were much blinded and puffed up of the devil. Satan had free access to their minds under the cloak of the Spirit of God. Those who were not affected by the foolish jerking of the devil were judged by the devil and made to believe they did not have the Spirit of God because they did not jerk. Thus all were under depression and more or less bewildered. Oh, how our souls were saddened at the sight! O dear saints of God everywhere, do not ascribe to the Spirit of God ludicrous and unbecoming conduct, such as chattering like a coon or barking like a dog, and all hideous looks!
Well, praise God, the word of God was received. Some at first resented, but God soon convicted them and they became teachable. Nearly all the foolish stuff was rid out of the camp after one discourse explaining and renouncing it. Intelligent sinners respected the truth of God that exposed the devil's counterfeit, and some who loved the true church wept for joy to see the abomination put away. From that time God led one after another to confess that spiritual joy and true faith began to depart out of their hearts from the time of receiving the jerks. Many came bowing at the altar, and the glorious work of cleansing went forward.
The truth of God was published against all the works of the devil by the power of the Holy Spirit. Some sect preachers, filled with the beast spirit and the very devil himself, were very much enraged against the word of the Lord, which had laid open the rottenness of their hearts. Hence they spewed out their shame and foamed exceedingly. On Tuesday night, after meeting, we all lay down to rest, being wearied with the arduous labors of the day. A masked mob aroused us from our much needed sleep and ordered all to pack up and leave the grounds in half an hour. They were armed with staves and rocks. Well, the saints arose and packed up, praising God for peace and comfort in their souls, not fearing the poor set of sinners who knew not that they were persecuting the Savior. They made diligent inquiry for us all about the camp. We were doubtless the special victim marked by their rankling hatred; but the Lord delivered us out of their hands. Oh, praise the Lord with me and let us exalt his name together!
The next morning early some saints drove back to the ground to get some things that had been left, and there came the preachers who had been howling with torment and sorrow because of the sword of the Lord, and even gnawing their tongues for pain, and who were generally believed to have been in the clan the night before, and one of them even recognized. They asked with much affected surprise what had happened, and began to declare and even to swear in the presence of God that they knew nothing of the movement and were not in it, though one of them confessed he was glad of it. This they did without having been accused. One brother said, "A guilty conscience needs no accuser; you plead guilty before accused." . . .
Well, praise God, the next morning, after a few hours sleep, we were called up to join some little ones in asking God to heal a child that was suffering with the croup. The good lord instantly did the work. Others followed, some for healing, others for complete deliverance from every taint of the devil. God himself gathered the saints at that place, and the day was devoted to salvation work. Probably twenty-five or thirty souls were delivered from all the works of the devil and filled with the Spirit of God. Oh, what a mighty change has taken place here! Instead of gloomy and hideous looks, now shines the glory and beauties of holiness upon the joyful faces of the redeemed, and clear, ringing shouts of praises are pleasing to God.
No meeting was announced for the next day, but the Lord gathered quite a number together again, and salvation work was resumed. On both days God so filled and possessed the meetings that there was not time for the slightest allusion to the mob workers of the devil. A stranger might have sat in the meeting the whole day and not received the faintest information of what had happened two nights ago. Praise God, these two days after driven out of camp were the most glorious and fruitful of all that we spent in these wild thickets. In spite of all that poor, pitiable ruffians could do, hissed on by wicked Babylonians, we are filled with joy unspeakable and full of glory.
We are now holding meetings a few days in the village of St. James. A large hall is crowded with attentive hearers, and the truth is mightily prevailing. Let all the saints of God pray for us. We will continue to preach the whole truth and rebuke the works of the devil, even if this tour should end in heaven. Hallelujah!
Of these strange manifestations Brother T. E. Ellis, who was one of those living in the vicinity and affected by the peculiar power that possessed the saints there, says:
We were under an influence similar to what the modern tongues people are under. We had different manifestations. Some would jerk spasmodically, some would fall and become stiff, some would dance, some would seem to have a kind of trance and a vision. Healing was claimed and the work seemed to be done. We had what we called the "unknown tongue" and an interpreter. A few talked similarly to the way modern tongues people talk nowadays.
From St. James the company continued their tour to Carthage, in the southwestern part of the State. They also held meetings at a number of different points in southern Kansas and in southeastern Nebraska. The first paragraph of his report from Chanute, Kansas, was written while he was sick. We quote the first two paragraphs:
It seems as distance stretches out between us and the dear loved ones with whom we have so often and joyfully worshiped God, that the love of God in our hearts is drawing us nearer together. I have never before felt the blessed, pure love of God burning so intensely in my heart for the dear household of God as lately. I can scarcely write to the beloved saints without tears dimming my eyes. O dearly beloved, we can feel your daily fervent prayers in our behalf, and all our company desire to thank you for them.
We want to testify to the goodness of God. The foregoing lines were written by a very sick man, but now we continue writing, a well man. Oh, praise the Lord with me and let us exalt his name together! From early morn until 3 P.M. today we were very sick, unable to eat. Tried to write, but had to take the bed. Finally the Lord impressed us with earnest prayer. We called the little company and kneeled before God, and oh, our dear heavenly Father instantly healed our body, took away all bad feeling, raised our voice from the faint tones of a person just beginning to rise from a hard sick spell to clear loud shouts of praise! He also sent through our entire system the strength of high leaps, as well as the high praises of God.
In a later report he shows how his health was maintained by faith.
For some time we have felt called of God to devote ourself more especially to the great duty of writing some works of present truth, and we expect to do so after the present tour. With this fact coming oft before our mind, we began unconsciously to relax our faith by which in our natural frailty we kept up sufficient strength for field labor. The presence of the ministerial brethren with us for some time also helped ease up our mind and drop our shield of faith by our side. The result was the devil had afflicted our poor weak body for several weeks. But, praise God, the Lord having in answer to prayer shown us what the trouble was, last Sabbath we rebuked the devil in the name the Lord Jesus with a holy vehemence, and our soul and body sprang forth with a shout of victory, and, glory to our God, we have been wonderfully well and spiritually glorious ever since.
From Waco, Nebraska, the company traveled westward to Denver. The following are extracts from his report at that place:
We stopped over a few hours in Lincoln, the capital of the State. We viewed with surprise the young city. Fourteen years ago when we visited the place it was small--now it numbers over twenty thousand inhabitants, more than double the size of Lansing, Michigan.
That night, for the first time in all our travels, an accident occurred to our train, a slight collision with a freight train several miles out of Lincoln. The engine being injured, we had to wait some hours until another was brought from the city. During this time there was a very violent wind. The car rocked on its springs like a load of hay passing over a rough road. But we lay down and slept sweetly, committing ourselves unto the Lord. That evening dear Brother E. E. Byrum, at the office, had a great burden for our safety, as he wrote us the next day. But he prayed for us until the Lord by the Spirit answered him that we should be delivered from all harm. Oh, praise the Lord for his goodness and mercy toward us! For our safety he placed a burden on one nearly a thousand miles away, but allowed not the slightest anxiety on our minds.
Tuesday evening, December 6, our little company took train for Denver, five hundred miles more toward the setting sun. That night we stopped over and had a good night's rest at McCook, Nebraska. Took train again at 7 A.M. and went flying over the prairie at a swift rate. Oh, what vast expanse of the broad prairie! Some parts are rough and broken, but the larger portion is beautiful and even and wanting only showers or irrigation to make a beautiful farming-country. . .
When about fifty miles from Denver, we observed strange blue banks to the west, which we first took to be dark clouds, but which we soon perceived were distant foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Plainer and higher they loomed up before our eyes as our swift train kept darting like an arrow toward the base. How beautiful and sublime the sight! Here, at Denver we are twelve miles from the foot mountains. They seem but a very short distance, especially when the morning sun shines brightly against their eastern sides. It seems impossible that they can be more than a mile and one half away. A person would surely suppose that he could walk over and back before breakfast. The foothills, rather mountains, are of a dark color, being covered by timber, and to all appearance just beyond them rise up the beautiful snow covered range. To our astonishment we are told that fifty miles stretch out between them and that there is a fertile valley there with towns, etc. The snowy range being so much farther off seems to be but a little higher than the foot mountains, and both ranges seem to stand together. In the morning they all seem so close that one would surely suppose a man could be seen if standing there in the snow. . . .
It was quite a novelty to the company to see the many sod houses we passed and dugouts in the hillsides. Sometimes there was scarcely anything to attract attention but a window door in a steep little hill. Sometimes we saw upon the level ground a roof about eight by ten covering a little underground house. Most of such were but herdsmen's dens. We have not yet begun to work here. Let all the saints pray earnestly for the work of salvation.
The company remained in Denver ten weeks, holding meeting in various places. When they went to that city there were only four persons who were in the light of the truth, but they left a congregation of about forty who had taken their stand for the truth. Returning eastward they stopped in York County, Nebraska, where Brother Warner had labored in his Nebraska mission in 1873-4. A portion of his report from Wayland reads as follows:
We preached and lived in this community thirteen and fourteen years ago, then a member of the sect wearing the stolen name of Church of God. The Lord blessed our labors in the salvation of some souls from their sins, and we had good meetings. There were very dear brethren and sisters here. But since our departure the work has retrograded. Some of their preachers became horse jockeys, others jealous-hearted, dead formalists, too cold and dry to keep men awake, much less awaken and get any one converted. The one on the work up to the time of our coming here has preached here four years without the conversion of a single soul. During our meeting he resigned his charge, and we are told he has now hired himself to preach for the Christian sect at Wayland, some of the members of which were the most malignant enemies and opposers of the work of grace. An unsaved citizen declared the other evening that about all the bad behavior and interruption he had seen during our meetings was by the sinners of the sects.
From Wayland the company went by way of Meriden and Atchinson, Kansas, to Whiteside County, Illinois, where they held meetings near Albany and also near Fulton. The following is the report, in part, from Albany:
We were happy to meet our dear beloved Brother Knight at his prairie home, four miles east of Fulton, and he leaped and skipped like a lamb to see us. The next day we all came eleven miles south to Brother A. Byers', whose house is a happy home for the war-worn pilgrims. The people are receiving the word with much interest. After several days' work here and as long at Brother Knight's neighborhood we go on homeward, for there is a great deal to do at home, some small works to print and the new song-book, Anthems From the Throne. Praise God for the precious and glorious songs he is sending us! The music is nearly all written by Brother Barney, whose inspiration in this gift is a marvel. . . .
O beloved, will you help us? A great responsibility rests upon us. While we are praising God for the precious light of heaven let us not forget others in darkness and exposed to the numerous pitfalls now threatening souls for whom Jesus died. Let no spirit of the devil nor any of his children tell you that we have any selfish motive in enlisting all willing and obedient hearts and hands in doing our duty in the rescuing of souls from Satan in every possible way. In the name of Jesus we spurn such mean-ness. God knows we do not draw a breath for self, but 'for us to live is Christ.' Are we seeking self4nterests, as wicked men have belied us? Where can any facts be cited upon which to base such an unkind assertion? On the present tour of nearly a year we have used about every cent we have received from the sale of books to supply the needs of ourself and little company. So we go forth preaching night and day, exposing this poor frail body to the cruel, biting frosts and beating storms, and toiling about every moment with the pen except when in meetings or going to and from, and in about six hours sleep, asking nothing for our labors either from God or man but the salvation of souls and the glory of God. . . .
Life will soon be over. You must leave your earthly treasures in the hands of others. Whether they will leave it to serve God or the devil is not yet known. Therefore, had you not better put a little of it at least into God's bank, laying it up in heaven, where thieves do not break through and steal and where moth and rust do not corrupt? As we return home from this long tour we feel impressed of the Lord to devote ourself more fully to the preparation of matter for the press: and we shall pray God with all our soul to move men and women to provide the means to purchase paper and other supplies to send it forth. There should be some works sent forth by the million, free of cost. We feel sure that God will find willing hearts to help in the work, and shall toil on in full assurance that when we breathe our last we shall have this consolation, that we have done what we could to enlighten and save souls, for whom Jesus died upon the cross.
The company arrived at Grand Junction, Michigan, on April 25. Thus ended their Western tour, in which seed was sown in many hearts to spring up and bear fruit for God.
Sister Frankie Miller said of this tour that it was marked by wonderful answers to prayer for rain. It seemed that wherever the company stopped on their way West in Illinois, Iowa, and the other States the country was suffering on account of drought. At every place their visit was either attended or followed by copious showers. At one public service Mother Smith prayed earnestly for rain. There was not a single indication of rain, but before the service was over the heavens blackened and rain fell in abundance. Thus all along their course the drought was broken.
The summer of 1888 was spent in attending campmeetings and visiting the churches in various places in Michigan, Indiana, Ohio, and Pennsylvania. Early in the winter a tour was made into Ontario. They found a good many souls in that country who had come out for the truth. Their labors there were blessed in the salvation of others and in the sowing of the good seed. Of the country and people Brother Warner had this to say:
We can say that we find a moderately fair farming country, and we cannot observe the slightest difference between the people here and in the States. More than ever we have learned that so long as governments allow a free, conscientious worship of God, their form is quite immaterial. We do not see that people have any special advantages by living in the States over what are enjoyed here. If any difference, farmers do not pay as heavy taxes here as in the States. Local option temperance laws are given to the people, and some counties have no saloons. And one blessed thing Canada has reason to thank God for is the fact that all liquor selling establishments are strictly compelled to close early Saturday evening and not open until Monday morning. This law enforced cuts off nearly one half the mischief of the nefarious business. Sabbath observance is also far more complete here than in the States. We were blessed with good order and find the way open for the gospel freely.
In August of the year 1889, the company again made their way Westward, going as far as Nebraska and returning through Kansas and Missouri. They held meetings again at St. James, Missouri, where a mob had given trouble two years before. Some of those who were guilty of that disturbance had become friends to the truth. One old preacher, however, continued to abuse the saints in his preaching until one Sunday evening, after expressing his usual opposition to the saints, he went home and dropped dead near his gate. Before this second visit of Brother Warner to this place one of the Baptist Church members made it known that he intended to break up this meeting also. It was reported that he actually began to work up a mob; but his child had a bean to lodge in its windpipe and died, and this put a stop to the carrying out of his evil design.
Brother Warner intended to spend the winter in Missouri, but he felt drawn back to Indiana. Having a great desire to settle down for a while, he wrote as follows, in December, 1889:
For a long time we have felt the call of God to shut ourself away with him for a while and let him teach us the deep things of God, that we may be able more perfectly to follow out the glorious lines of present truth. We have a great desire to do so, and yet when hungry souls in every direction are calling for the saving truth of God it is hard for us to keep from running; but if the Lord will, we shall pass the calls around to the many able-bodied and warm-hearted soldiers of the "white horse" cavalry, who are ready to rush to the battle wherever he leads. We began preaching, a poor, frail invalid, over twenty-two years ago, and God has sustained us in a most remarkable manner during all these years of intense labor and great exposure. Oh, how grateful we feel to our heavenly Father that We are blessed with such good health! But nevertheless we feel that more regular diet, sleep, etc., for a season will prove a great blessing, and increase and prolong our usefulness on earth. We shall devote ourself principally to Bible-study and poetical labor.
By the close of the year 1889, it was seen that the work had been almost doubling itself annually. That year there had been held twenty-five grove-meetings, fourteen camp-meetings, besides several general assemblies. Quite a strong working force was by this time in the field, and evangelists were scattered out in the more distant parts of the country.
The next tour of any considerable extent was one that took them into the Southland. This trip was made in November 1890. They intended to make the trip by boat down the Mississippi, but found the water at a low ebb and traveling very slow. They took a steamer at Cincinnati, but had to wait two days before it started; and then it took them four days to reach Cairo. After waiting three days for a boat overdue from St. Louis, they made the rest of the journey by rail, and landed at Meridian, Mississippi. In this part of the country Brothers Bradley and Bozeman and others had opened up the work. The people were very hungry for the preaching of the word. Brother Warner and the company spent several weeks in the eastern part of the State. His bold manner in uncovering sin and false religion occasioned considerable opposition from various sectarian sources. The country was cursed with a false holiness element called "Straight Holiness," representing the Good Way, a paper then published at Fort Scott, Kansas. Its teachers failed in the South to be uncompromising against tobacco and other evils and they incited no little opposition and prejudice against the New Testament standard held by Brother Warner. At Beech Springs, Mississippi, the mob element was encountered, as is shown by the portion of Brother Warner's report here given:
At that place there are a few Babylon hearts of the most pernicious hue, men steeped and dyed in tobacco and drunk on Babylon's worst wine, the wrath of which they infuse into the baser sort. Brothers Bradley and Bozeman have both been threatened in that place with violence and, we believe, even with murder, and we could expect the same animus toward us. Hence, the second night several pieces of brick and clubs came crashing through the window, all doubtless hurled in wrath at us. Nearly half of the sash was broken in and the glass flew over the house. The unsaved were much frightened, and the whole house was thrown into confusion. The glory of God was greatly upon us through all the evening, and with the cowardly onslaught the heavenly tides so wondrously swelled in our soul that we had to leap for joy in the midst of the uproar. Oh, the mighty river of peace and joy! The excellent tide of glory only subsided into sleep at a late hour, and it arose again with our waking in the morning. We stood only about seven feet from the window and nearly opposite; but the hand of God protected us from serious harm. However, the Lord saw he could overrule a slight glancing wound on the side of our face and nose for his glory, and so permitted the same. It was very evident in the meeting the next day that either Satan had made a great mistake or else his children were more wicked than he wanted them to be, so that he could not restrain them from their wicked deed, which proved a great blessing to the cause of Christ. All the saints were able to see more clearly than ever before the track that Christ and his primitive saints had trod. And about all testified that they had reached a clearer experience, stronger faith, and more joy in the Lord through the last night's meeting than ever before. The meeting that day was indeed very glorious.
The spiritual condition of the people as countenanced by the "Straight Holiness" teachers in that part of the South is set forth in the report written from Spring Hill, near Meridian:
Our last report was from Oak Grove neighborhood. When we entered there we found the powers of darkness and wickedness fierce and black. Threats were breathed about and written notices deposited in the dark. After one night's meeting in the old meeting-house, which is a neighborhood building, it was locked up. We went into the small schoolhouse near by and the Lord most wonderfully blessed our souls. Satan then had the schoolhouse locked, and though certain citizens had jerked the staples out of the old meeting-house and the doors stood wide open, and the Methodist class-leader, being in favor of the right and truth, invited us to enter, yet because others were raging we preferred to hold a little service in the public road, in the bright moonlight. God blessed the songs, prayer, and a few words of exhortation, and all the people seemed touched. Nearly every person present kneeled during prayer.
All these circumstances God overruled to the good of the people and the cause of Christ. The schoolhouse was again opened, and we went on a few nights longer, with glorious victory. Only a few sought the Lord; but there was a general blessing effected on the community in the removal of prejudice and hatred out of many hearts that had been influenced through lies and slanders, such as of promiscuous kissing, free-love, etc., propagated chiefly by the little Fort Scott-creed sect.
It is a bad and fallacious cause that depends upon defamation of others. The course these schismatics resort to occasions some persecution and no little hatred, and even danger of violent treatment, which they will have to answer for in the day of judgment. But the cause thus bolstered up can not stand, and truth crushed down by foul means is sure to rise again; and just in proportion as there has been evil-speaking against the truth will it enlist the hearts of the honest, and at the same time forfeit all confidence in and elicit contempt for such as have defamed it and its lovers. In accordance with these principles truth rose triumphant at Oak Grove. The people saw we had been slandered, yea and Jesus Christ also. . . . The Lord has raised up many friends for the whole truth in that place, and could we have remained long enough to make a thorough effort, doubtless a number of souls would have been saved. But the way is opened for the true work of God to prosper there. Some who were much prejudiced when we went there, seeing that the truth of God is in us, had their minds changed, and their countenances were divested of the sour and took on the pleasant. God bless the people of that community.
From that place we came to Spring Hill, several miles east. . . Here were a few pure children of God, whom we found yoked up with a majority who were professing salvation and yet "walking after the flesh in the lust of uncleanness." In our lifting the standard of God's Word against such inconsistencies, the wicked spirits were stirred in the baser sort, so that many threats of violence were blown about in the neighborhood. But the hand of God being over us, we suffered no harm.
Oh, how our soul longs to be excused of this most unpleasant task of lifting the gospel standard of holiness where profession has been countenanced in lives of filth and idolatry! The preacher that simply tells the people he could not use tobacco, and even earnestly admonishes men to quit, and yet receives the testimonies of men who use it, sets at naught the Word of God, pampers men in their sins, and prepares a storm of persecution to fall on the head of the man who comes after him showing the real Bible line between the works of God and the works of the devil, between real holiness of heart, soul, spirit, and body on the one side, and all filthiness of the flesh and spirit on the other. If holiness teachers, on going into a new field where people know nothing about the doctrine and experience, would faithfully tell them at once that entire sanctification, the second work of grace, cleanses out of man all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, which includes all unholy tempers and appetites, that it can be obtained only by abandoning every sinful and unclean habit and giving the whole man--soul, body, and spirit--up to God for perfect purity of life and being, no person is prepared to contradict him, and such as conclude to seek that grace will expect to pay the full price. . . .
But when men are allowed to profess holiness without contradiction and yet practice the sin of tobacco using or anything else contrary to godliness, they, in imagining themselves holy while living in unholiness, as well as sinners in general, learn to associate holiness and filth, and the difficulties in rooting out the abomination are many times increased. Men, by getting a degree of blessing of God upon their souls in consequence of abandoning some evils, or at least imagining themselves blessed, take the same as an endorsement from God upon the filth they yet continue in. The longer they continue in their delusion the more they are confirmed in it and the more they will fight for their idols. And their practice justifying the lusts of the wicked, these are ready to assault and abuse God's ministers, who must declare the whole counsel of God. And so a lax preacher gives place for the devil and wrath of men to assault the faithful herald of God that follows him. So by the fruits of the devotees of rehashed Methodism in the Fort Scott creed, which has cursed the South and filled hearts with bitter hatred toward all who follow Christ, and by their strife and contentions having brought a general contempt upon the name of holiness, and also by their lack of radicalness against sin in every form, our work here is beset with dark mountains, which God alone can remove, but which, thank his holy name, have been much obliterated in all places where we have labored.
Later, at Spring Hill, the mob element was further encountered. Here, as was always the case where a mob gathered to do violence to Brother Warner, the chief instigators were sectarian preachers and professors who were incensed by the preaching of the truth that condemned them.
From Spring Hill meetinghouse, where we last wrote, we went about seven miles to the southeast through a wild and almost mountainous woods, to the house of Brother and Sister Irby, in whose dwelling we remained and held meeting about one week. . . . A goodly number of hearers came out through the wet weather, and the dear Lord was pleased to pour his Spirit upon us gloriously. It seemed that God had taken us up upon the Delectable Mountains. The leaps in our soul were too high for the height of the room, as the house had a ceiling, whereas, nearly all the country houses here have nothing overhead but the roof, and never has a whitewash brush touched the walls. Scarcely one out of ten of the houses in the country has a pane of glass in it. The sisters talked with some women who did not know what a carpet is. We have seen no such thing here. The people in the South seem contented with fewer domestic comforts than any people we ever before met. As one sister remarked the other day, "they take it out in tobacco." There is much truth in this statement. That weed deprives them of nearly all comforts and many actual necessities of life. Of course, there is not the same need of carpeted floors here as in the North; but how people can live for years in a house without a window is a mystery.
Well, our stay at Brother and Sister Irby's seemed to my soul like old Brother Elijah's hiding place in the wilderness, where he dined on food brought by angels. We also feasted on heavenly manna, and shall never forget it. Some came to the altar, and a few cast away their filthy idol; but we hope the day of judgment will reveal much more good done than was manifest.
Some of God's little ones came over from Spring Hill, who in formed us that some were anxious for our return to that place. Now, at that place is where Satan's seat is. Before we left there we were much impressed that the mob spirit was at work, and one night when the rain prevented our going to the place, a disguised crowd was seen going there. But now, hearing that some souls were hungry for salvation, we ventured back in the name of Jesus.
When reaching the neighborhood, we were joyfully surprised by the coming of our dear young brother Andrew L. Byers, from Illinois, who has come to join our little company. Having had a great deal of trouble and several days' ramble before he found us he was reminded of Stanley in search of Livingstone. Truly our hearts were mutually refreshed by his arrival.
The first night of meeting three souls came to the altar, two consecrated for entire sanctification and one was gloriously pardoned. The next night the fierce powers of hell were fully awakened from their brief slumber occasioned by our absence. A couple of lead balls called buckshot were thrown through the open window by means of a rubber concern that we are told is even dangerous to life. These wicked wretches also threw stones with slings at some of God's saints on their way home that night, even regardless of women and children in the crowd. One woman was hit. That was a little the lowest and most cowardly work we have ever yet met with. The next day four of Satan's chief servants rode out in four directions five and seven miles to enlist by his lies and slanders such as were base enough in a great mob to assault us that night. During the day we learned all about the movement, and at a meeting at a brother's house we recalled the meeting for night, seeing no possible chance of doing good.
Hear O heavens, and he ashamed O Babylon, when we tell you that one of the four spirits that went forth to gather together Gog and Magog was of the Fort Scott creed, or the Good Way sect, and the father of the only family of that sect in the neighborhood. And at his cotton-gin was the appointed place for the mob to meet. Some five miles away he called on some young men who are reputed pretty wicked and invited them to join the mob, telling them base lies. But they, having more principle than he, said they would have nothing to do, with it. They also came and informed some friends of the Lord all about the plot. These told the Fort Scott man to his face what he was guilty of, and he said he did not deny it. . . . We expected to meet that creed with the Word of God and had hopes of seeing some saved. But they shun Scripture investigation as a wolf shuns daylight. Brother Bradley invited the editor and two of the leading preachers to meet him in discussion, but they have failed to do so and now we have discovered their tactics. They seem to regard slandering and mobbing as better calculated to subserve their cause than would honest discussion. While we are happy to think that most of them in person would not condescend to mobbing, it is only too true that many of them have given their tongues to slander whereby the other measures have been infused in the baser sort May God forgive them for Christ's sake.
There being no meeting at which the mob could assault us, they beset the house where we stayed until about twelve o'clock at night. They reported their number between seventy-five and one hundred. They were armed with guns and revolvers. There were in the crowd a Methodist preacher, a class-leader with his axe, many old gray haired sectarians, men recently out of jail; the basest men in the country mixed up with a majority of sectites--so we were informed by brethren that knew the majority that came up to the house, for a part kept in reserve with most of the guns. They stated that their object was only to give us orders to leave the country next day. A brave army, about a hundred strong, gathered from several miles around, just to tell a few little children of God to leave the next day, after we had announced in the meeting that we were going at that time! There were a few fearless souls present who told them to their face that they were actuated to their dark work by the: lies of Satan and the wickedness of their hearts, and shamed the Babylon professors there mixed up in common cause with base outlaws.
The mob hung around until about midnight, clamoring for us to come out, stating they would not hurt us, etc. But when men are low down enough to fling buckshot into a congregation and rocks into a promiscuous crowd, you might as well tell us that wolves and hyenas do not care for meat as to say that such did not want to hurt us. Doubtless some in the crowd did not, and for what we know such as said so did not; but judging the mob by what we had seen in the past we had good sense enough to avoid such beasts. . . .
After all left the house, not a great way off, they fired off their pieces, which, for a few seconds, mimicked the din of war.
May God ever bless and keep the few pure children of God in that wicked region; and may he reward their kindness to us and also that of the few non-professors, whom we shall not soon forget and for whom we shall pray that God may bless and reward them with his great salvation.
Following the campaign in eastern Mississippi, meetings were held in northern Alabama, near Hartselle and near Athens, after which the company returned northward, Brother Warner into Indiana and the others into Ohio.
In a report written from Markleville, Indiana, he tells of a visit to Indianapolis, where The Trumpet passed through the first year and a half of its existence.
We came on to Indianapolis, where we began the blasts of the Gospel trumpet. We remained all night. and early in the morning walked out to the spot where we labored and prayed and trusted God nearly two years in great trials. Abandoned and hated of all the world, opposed by all of Babylon and rejected by the sectish associated holiness forces, we were forced out upon the promises of God and endured a great fight of faith. All the earth seemed dark as midnight, and growling letters came thick and fast and friendly ones few and far between. We were where, a stranger in a city, without money, friends, or credit, "give us this day our daily bread," was not a mere formal prayer. Oh, the riches of the goodness and the wonders of the mercy of God! Surely he hath never yet forsaken the righteous. Here we labored and prayed in intense poverty, while the word of the Lord tried us; but his strong arm hath gotten him the victory over all the powers of hell and earth. Here we had a temporary summer office on our lot and occupied a room of the house, about 10 x 14, in winter. Now a large two story building is occupied with the business, and the circulation is rapidly enlarging.
We went back to the room we had occupied through the night and cast ourself down on the carpet in gratitude to God. Glory be to God for the triumph for his mighty present truth!
The tour into the Southern States was the last tour Brother Warner made in company with his little band of singers and helpers. After holding a couple of grove-meetings in Ohio and attending the Beaver Dam meeting in Indiana, during the summer of 1891, the company did not travel together any longer. Brother Warner visited the churches in Pennsylvania and Ontario and then spent the following winter, or most of it, at the publishing office. In April 1892, came a visit to the churches in the West, including the one at Denver. Before leaving home for this trip he suffered from a severe attack of rheumatism, and recovered only by a constant fight of faith. His report from Denver furnishes an example of how he frequently had to contend with afflictions and how he found his victory only in the Lord.
Through exposure in a cold rain at Kenesaw, Nebraska, I was taken with a bad lung trouble; was quite poorly and had lost about all appetite. But, thank God, we held on by faith in him and he raised me up. I was rapidly regaining strength when we left there. But an apparently congested state of my lungs seemed still to oppress my being. As the onward-flying train carried us higher and the air consequently became more and more light, the difficulty of breathing increased. I also found myself under a fever and lay one day very weak.
Oh, how my poor soul cried out all the day long for the blessing of health and strength once more to this frail temple that had been so long crushed down with one affliction after another! But there was searching of the heart and consecration as well as prayer. I realized a sweet willingness to suffer on more and more all the days of my life, and almost more than a willingness to quit the theater of this life and of this dark world, which had pressed so many bitter cups of tribulation to my lips. I did not know, indeed, but that I had come here to join the dark train that moves silently and almost constantly out of this city to the large city of the dead, where thousands who come here to regain health are furnished a grave instead of health. But these thoughts brought no gloom to my redeemed soul. Three glorious things lit all up brightly:
First, I knew my soul was all arrayed in the pure righteousness of God, without spot, and that by the grace of God I had kept the faith, obeyed God, and done what I could to glorify his holy name on earth.
Second, whether we wake--remain in the body--or sleep--leave the body--we shall live together with the Lord. I shall still have a conscious and joyful existence in a more near and blissful presence of the Lord after leaving this clay house.
Third, this mortal body also shall put on immortality and be fashioned like Christ's glorious body. Oh, bless God for the beautiful hope of a child of God!
Before sundown I awoke from a short sleep, and instantly felt heavenly sweetness in my soul and comfort in body. Behold, the Lord had taken away all the fever! That night some of the beloved came together and anointed me for complete healing. We believed the Lord granted the petition, and after much trial of my faith I am now feeling well in body once more and rapidly gaining strength.
His account of his visiting the natural wonders at Colorado Springs is interesting and shows his love for the handiwork of God.
Yesterday we all improved the time in visiting some of God's wonderful works about Manitou and what is called the Garden of the Gods. Here we praised and worshiped the true God and creator of all things in heaven and earth, when we beheld the wonderful works that his hands had wrought. Here rise from a level surface, or, rather, project out of the earth, yellow rocks to the height of over three hundred feet. Some of them look like a great castle, others are a few thin slabs standing side by side with very fine crevices, between which were doubtless at one time veins of rock more soft than the rest, and the stream of time has worn them out. Some of these majestic formations could be ascended to a considerable height from one side. On these elevations we shouted the praises of God, feeling his presence with us. Many smaller rocks of very peculiar shape are seen in this romantic region.
From here we proceeded to the town of Manitou, which is a small but very attractive town in a deep passage of the mountains. Here we found a family that was interested in full salvation. We talked with them and prayed with them, and perhaps they will find a door open for Jesus in that place. We then drove about one mile beyond up the Ute Pass to Rainbow Falls, after which we visited the celebrated Iron Springs. The water is so highly charged with mineral substances that it is nearly as strong as hard cider; and yet it has what most pronounce no unpleasant flavor. It tastes like strong soda water. It is very electrifying to the system, and the constant tide of visitors goes there to drink the healing waters. Near the upper springs is the beginning of the cog railroad that transports travelers up to the summit of Pike's Peak. The distance up the mountain is about nine miles.
Returning to Manitou we stopped and drank freely of the soda spring, of which soda water is a good imitation. Visitors may freely drink of all these springs and each may carry away one quart of the precious water. We brought some home, and by adding sugar and lemon juice the water foamed up and made a delicious drink.
Here we sit and write in Colorado Springs on a plain that rises nearly six thousand feet above the place of our home. How pure and light the atmosphere is! And Pike's Peak near by us lifts its snow covered summit over eight thousand feet still higher in the skies.
His return to Michigan was in time to attend the general camp-meeting, which this year was held on the new ground at Grand Junction. Before the summer was over he received an urgent call to go to the Pacific Coast and to attend the tabernacle meeting at Los Angeles, California, in October. Feeling it the will of the Lord that he go he started on this journey in August. After a few meetings in Missouri, Iowa, and Kansas, he proceeded to Los Angeles, which he reached in time to attend the meeting appointed there. His first report from the Coast, written at National City, is in part as follows:
We were three days and nights making the trip, with very little stopping. We came over the Santa Fe system. We passed over much wild and mountainous scenery, but the lofty peaks called The Needles we passed at night and failed to see. Our chariot brought us over one thousand miles of desert. The awful blank was broken only by an occasional Indian camp or village, or a mining point. For perhaps a hundred miles or more the earth was as bare as the paved streets of a city, and for many hundred miles nothing but tumbleweed had ventured life upon the dry region. But it is believed that nearly all that lifeless desert would be productive if irrigated or blessed with summer showers. One thing that broke the awful monotony of the long, weary plains was the fact that we were seldom out of sight of mountain ranges. In Arizona we reached a very high altitude. The morning found the ground covered with snow and the temperature quite cold. In eastern California we traveled for hundreds of miles in the midst of a wild mountainous scenery, much of the time running or near the summit, giving us a grand and awful view of the mountains for a vast distance around. Finally, fertile nooks, little houses, and orchards made their welcomed appearance, which began to relieve the mind wearied with the long scene of barren emptiness. At San Bernardino everything began to look as though we had returned to the land of the living.
A few hours more through almost perpetual vineyards, lemon, orange, and fig orchards, etc., brought us into Los Angeles, and seeing our dear Brother J. W. Byers through the window, we felt like climbing over the slow moving people to reach the door. Oh, praise God for the privilege of greeting our dear fellow laborer in the gospel of God! We found him and family well, and he and Sister Byers wonderfully devoted to their calling, laboring day and night with unwearied zeal for the salvation of lost men and women. who are on the brink of everlasting ruin. Praise God, we soon saw that their labors have been owned and blessed of God. We found a precious and very zealous church in Los Angeles. . . .
Truly dear Brother and Sister Byers have been working the richest mine of gold ever opened in California. Their toils have known no moderation. They have indeed, according to apostolic example, "given themselves continually to prayer and to the ministry of the word." And, thank God, there are those in Los Angeles who labored with their hands for the direct object of saving lost men and women, using only enough to supply nature's wants. Oh, that everybody who professes consecration of self and all to God would show it forth by a life wholly devoted to the spread of the pure gospel of Christ and the deliverance of the lost!. . .
His stay in California was confined to the southern part of the State, where he spent two and one half months laboring in various places. On his return he wrote from Denver and described some of the sublime scenery he witnessed on the line of the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad.
Some of the most sublime scenery was passed in the night. At Glenwood Springs the train stopped an hour and a half, giving passengers a much appreciated relief from long confinement and a very much enjoyed ramble amid the beautiful scenery of the little city, which lies in a small glen, surrounded by towering mountains on all sides. Here, for the first time in our life, we saw hot springs. The weather was cold and snow was on the ground, and the many stony springs and the great hot-water reservoir caused a steam to arise that made a person feel as if the infernal fires were not far off. A stone wall separates between two large pools, in one of which arise many cold springs, and just over the wall the hot water boils up. At this place is the junction of the Grand River and the Roaring Fork. Our line followed up the Grand River, the canon of which was very delightful. The great red, stone mountains towered up on both sides in the form of large old castles, many of them nearly square and others oblong but with square corners like a building. Finally we left the Grand River and followed the winding course of a tributary. Now the scene became yet more wildly grand, which we greatly enjoyed.
At some time past eleven at night we reached the Royal Gorge. Having requested the porter to notify us, we lay down without undressing, and so, blessed with good starlight, we were enabled to behold one of the most sublime and awful scenes we ever witnessed in all our travels. Here the almighty hand of God had cleaved a narrow passage through the rocks, which tower up thousands of feet on either side. On our left we passed close to the base of the mighty wall; on our right only a small stream lay between our track and the awful elevation. This indescribably awful gorge extended perhaps for two or three miles. We stood upon the platform of the car, at first turning our eyes right and left, beholding with solemn wonder the vertical cliffs that seem almost to touch the stars. Finally we had but to direct our eyes straight up between the two cars and behold, by one straight upward gaze, the cliffs on both sides as their proud summits seemed to draw together. As we stood on the platform nearest the rocks we frequently saw the great peaks leaning directly over our heads. We could not refrain from crying out, Oh! oh! wonderful! wonderful! Never shall we forget that impressive sight! It seems to us that we would have but to make that trip by daylight to be satisfied that nothing more sublimely awful and inspiring need be looked for amid all the wonders of this creation of God. We would not have missed it for a great deal, and hope it may please God to let our eyes behold the same by daylight.
On the previous afternoon we passed a freight train that had the day before been wrecked by running upon a heap of earth and rocks that had broken loose perhaps a thousand feet up the sloping mountains and, rushing down, covered the track. The engine and tender were pitched down the hill and lay upside down, under which, alas, the fireman had met his death, or rather he lay with his limbs crushed beneath the engine for over four hours and expired a short time after being taken out.
But as we went flying along under the lofty cliffs and around the short curving niches that were cut out of the solid rocks, sometimes at a height that made one feel giddy to look down, we thought how the strength of the everlasting hills is our Father's, and that his wings overshadowed us by the way. We felt no fear of harm.
His poem "Good-by, Old Rockies" was written at this time. He arrived home February 16. With the portion of his report written after he had returned from his California tour we close this chapter.
Never in all our past journeyings did our soul seem so thankful and joyful before God for the privilege of greeting all the dearly beloved ones at home once more. Oh, bless the name of the Lord. We knew not how to thank God enough nor scarcely how to act for the great joy of our heart. Let all the dear saints help us bless the name of the Lord for his wonderful care over us during the travel of over ten thousand miles since our departure last July.
Our flying abroad has not been in vain. All along the line of our tour God has been with us and saved souls at every stopping place, with perhaps two exceptions. Thank Heaven also for the blessing of good health! How wonderfully he strengthened us to preach his everlasting gospel, often twice a day and sometimes on Sabbath three times, putting in as much as eight hours swift talk in one day, added to which was the earnest altar service and the care for immortal souls! We feel especially thankful to God for the grace of our Lord and Savior that we find resting upon all the beloved family.
[1] In reference to this apparent instance of a person's being in a justified state while at the same time in possession of evil spirits it can be said, without attempting an explanation of whether such might be possible, that Brother Warner was always very particular to insist on justification as an essential condition to sanctification, and that if we knew all the circumstances in this case (allowing that the account may not be full) there probably would be no question in our minds.
[2] Brother Leininger relates that at this meeting a Dunkard minister drew his fist to strike him. A daughter of this preacher was a hired helper in Brother Leininger's family. She had obtained the experience of sanctification, which angered her father. As Brother Leininger was going out of the meeting-house, this man stood at the door ready to do violence to him. He drew back his fist to strike, but it seems his blow was rather misdirected, as his thumb nail grazed his own nose and tore loose a bit of skin, so that he went home bleeding and discomfited.
[3] A man who lived in the neighborhood said in one of the meetings that he was going to kick Brother Warner. As the latter was among the last to pass out of the building, this man lingered at the door, while the crowd was waiting to see him do the deed. As Brother Warner passed out he raised his foot to kick, but he did not kick. He was asked why he did not. His reply was, "I was afraid the Lord would kick me." This man accepted the truth and became one of the permanent fixtures in the church in that place.
[4] On the second Sunday the meeting was held in the grove. After the people had assembled a very frightful storm threatened, and people began to leave. Brother Warner stopped in the midst of his preaching, and, with his hand lifted to heaven prayed God to scatter the storm and not let it hinder the meeting. He assured the people that they need not leave, that it would not rain. Some had begun to depart but stopped to see whether his prayer would be answered. It did not rain. There were other instances of this kind in Brother Warner's career.
[5] An interesting episode in connection with this trip is related by Brother D. Leininger, of Beaver Dam, whose mother, known as Mother Krause, was at this time not expected to live. Mother Krause had for some cause held a slight grievance against Brother Warner. Early in December, on the night before she died, she declared she must see Brother Warner and begged to have him sent for. She was told that Brother Warner was over in La Grange County, quite a distance away, and that if the Lord wanted her to see him he would spare her life until she should have that opportunity. Scarcely had this been said when Brother Warner arrived, to the surprise of all.
Two days before, where he had been holding meetings, he expressed the conviction that the Spirit bade him go to Beaver Dam. Accordingly it was decided to go, and he resumed his writing, at which he had been engaged, until the time to start. Perceiving that no preparations were being made he dropped his pen and asked the cause. He was told that the weather was inclement and that traveling would be disagreeable. He said, "Never mind the weather; the Lord can take care of that. The Lord says, 'Go to Beaver Dam'." Thus it was that he and his company were prompted to make the trip. Landing at Brother William Ballenger's, they stayed over night. In the latter part of the night Brother Warner awoke Brother Ballenger and said he must go to see Mother Krause immediately.
Mother Krause died the following evening, but not before she was comforted by the presence of Brother Warner.
[6] In addition to this a letter had been received in the community, from Carthage, Missouri, written by an opposer who misrepresented the saints as believers in amalgamation with the colored people, the purpose of the letter being, of course, to stir up prejudice.
[7] Those meetings in the vicinity of Spring Hill were almost the author's first experience in gospel work. I was asked to join the company to supply a missing part in song. Mother Smith having dropped out previously. After arriving at Meridian it was some time before I could locate Brother Warner.
[8] To one unaccustomed it was hard to realize that opposition to the truth would take the form of a mob. We were quartered at the house of a Brother Smith. When the mob first came, Brother Warner asked if I wished to join him in his escape from the house. I then accompanied him to the pine woods some distance from the dwelling, and we remained there until we could hear that the mob had left. Brother B. E. Warren had found a hiding place under the house. The first company of men that came proved to be only a detachment, and the mob afterward came in greater force. This second time I remained in the house with the women folks, while Brothers Warner and Warren took the hiding under the building. The men wanted Brother Warner and lingered at the gate for some time talking with Brother Smith, who would not allow them within the gate except to see for themselves that Brother Warner was not in the house. Finally, after learning that I was present, they asked to see me, whereupon I went out and talked with them from the porch. They asked a number of questions and then left.
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Chapter 16 (part 2)
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Chapter 16 (part 3)
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Chapter 16 (part 4)
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Chapter 17
THE MINISTRY OF SONG
Scarcely a spiritual movement in the history of Christianity has been without its service of song. The emotions, whether of victory or of devotion or of interest in the salvation of the lost, naturally flow out in singing. Far back in Biblical history we find songs of victory attending the triumphs of the people of God.
The Wesleyan reformation, through its gifted hymn writer, Charles Wesley, furnished many of the standard spiritual hymns that are in use today. Witness also the immortal gospel hymns that originated with the Moody and Sankey revivals of the last century. Likewise the holiness movement of forty and fifty years ago was characterized by its holiness songs. And so in these last times, when we have come to the full standard of truth and the full development of the church independent of human creeds, when the "ransomed of the Lord" are returning over the "highway" prepared, what wonder is it that they should "come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads" (Isaiah 35:10)? In no respect was the inception of the present reformation more marked than in its ministry of holy song.
For the writing of spiritual hymns Brother Warner had a wonderful endowment. It seems that the development of this gift came, however, only with his entrance upon the special work of the reformation. In his earliest writings we find no examples of hymns or poems of any merit. A few verses in his diary betray a lack of familiarity with the principles of prosody, or hymn writing. Considering the little time he had to devote to the study of those principles, it is marvelous that he produced so many useful, and we may say excellent, hymns during the few short years of his intensive ministerial labor.
His first effort appears to have been the adaptation of existing hymns either by rearrangement of the words or by composing new words to fit the tunes. Thus we have the "Glory, Halleluiah" song with new words appearing in an early copy of The Gospel Trumpet. The chorus is familiar to all and we omit it.
On the mountain top of vision what a glory we behold!
Eighteen hundred years of victory are tinging earth with gold;
For the saints are overcoming with their testimony bold,
The truth is marching on.
For the glory of the Father Jesus taught in Galilee,
And preached the great salvation that delivers you and me;
And a million voices shout it, "Redemption's full and free,"
The truth is marching on.
From the cabin on the prairie, from the vaulted city dome:
From the dark and briny ocean where our sailor brothers roam,
We hear the glad rejoicing like a happy harvest home,
Salvation's rolling on.
Eighteen hundred years of marching, eighteen hundred years of song,
The Conqueror advances, and the time will not be long,
When he shall come in glory and overthrow the wrong,
Our God is marching on.
Nahum's chariots are speeding as the lightning on their way,
And their flying torches tell us 'tis the preparation day;
For the bride is getting ready and the Lord will not delay,
The marriage feast is near.
Precious knowledge is increasing, evening light begins to glow,
With the trump of full salvation many running to and fro;
And the song of glory echoes, Christ has washed us white as snow,
All glory to his name!
The long dispersed remnant of Jehovah's chosen race
Are flying from all nations to their ancient dwelling-place;
And the sinful world is surely in its closing day of grace,
The Lord is just at hand.
In the valley of decision there's a battle drawing near,
Sectish Gog and Magog powers round about the saints appear;
But our God is our munition and our hearts shall never fear,
The victory is sure.
On the blissful heights of glory we will shout the battle o'er,
And in the golden city we wilt join the Conqueror,
And when the war is over, with the saints forevermore
And crown him with all praise.
On the subject of the church--a prominent subject with him--we have Brother Warner's arrangement of Frances Ridley Havergal's poem, "Church of God." We give but two stanzas.
Church of God, thou spotless virgin,
Church of Christ for whom he died,
Thou hast known no human founder,
Jesus bought thee for his bride.
Sanctified by God the Father,
Built by Jesus Christ the Son,
Tempered by the Holy Spirit,
Like the Holy Three in one.
God himself has set the members
In his body all complete,
Organized by Jesus only,
Oh, the union pure and sweet!
Church of God, the angels marvel,
At the music of thy song;
Earth and hell in terror tremble
As thy army moves along.
Another of the class of adapted hymns was one on the exercise of faith for sanctification, sung to the tune of "Beulah Land."
Why should a doubt or fear arise,
As this poor little all of mine
I lay a living sacrifice,
All on the altar, Christ divine?
Chorus
I'm fully thine, yes, wholly thine,
All on the altar, Christ divine.
The word of Jesus I believe,
The Sanctifier I receive;
All on the altar I abide,
And Jesus says I 'm sanctified.
Ah, not a moment more I'll doubt,
And not a moment longer wait;
He shed his blood to sanctify,
He suffered death without the gate.
By faith I venture on his Word,
My doubts are o'er, the vict'ry won;
He said the altar sanctifies,
I just believe him, and 'tis done.
Through all my soul I feel his power,
And in the precious cleansing wave
I wash my garments white this hour,
And prove his utmost power to save.
Still another was "The Hand of God on the Wall" of which we quote but two verses.
See, the great king of Babel in these latter days of time
Makes a feast that's universal, all the nations drink her wine;
As they eat, drink, and revel in her lofty steepled hall,
God proclaims her desolation by his hand upon the wall.
How the nations are drunken and are sporting in their shame!
Even scoffing at our Savior and profane his holy name;
Far more blind than Belshazzar, who so trembled with appall,
They still riot on to judgment, with their doom upon the wall.
Brother Warner was not gifted in writing tunes. This necessary counterpart was supplied in J. C. Fisher and his wife, Allie R., also in H. R. Jeffrey, a brother who lived in northern Indiana. Fisher frequently wrote both words and music, as did also Jeffrey. One of the first hymns of which both words and music were original with this reformation was "The All Cleansing Fountain" by J. C. Fisher. The first stanza and chorus are as follows:
There's a fountain opened in the house of God,
Where the vilest of sinners may go
And all test the power of that crimson flood,
Of the blood that makes whiter than snow.
Chorus
Praise the Lord, I am washed
In the all cleansing blood of the Lamb,
And my robes are whiter than the driven snow,
I am washed in the blood of the Lamb.
Another early one was H. R. Jeffrey's Songs of Victory, of which the first stanza and chorus will also here suffice.
Songs of victory bringing
Unto the Lord most high,
Victory, victory singing,
Let all the saints draw nigh;
For there can be no failure
While Jesus leads the van,
And victory, victory, victory,
Is heard on every hand.
Chorus
Vict'ry shall be the chorus,
Vict'ry our watchword and song,
Jesus is marching before ns,
Leading his army along.
A hymn that breathes a deep spirit of devotion was Brother Warner's "I Ought to Love My Savior," music by Fisher. There were five stanzas in all.
I ought to love my Savior,
He loved me long ago,
Looked on my soul with favor,
When deep in guilt and woe;
And though my sin had grieved him,
His father's law had crossed,
Love drew him down from heaven
To seek and save the lost.
I ought to love my Savior,
He bore my sin and shame;
From glory to the manger,
On wings of love he came.
He trod this earth in sorrow,
Endured the pains of hell,
That I should not he banished,
But in his glory dwell.
We shall refer, in what follows, only to Brother Warner's hymns. One that sung of the times as being prophetic was entitled "Prophetic Truth."
'Twas sung by the poets, foreseen in the Spirit,
A time of refreshing is near;
When creeds and divisions would fall to demerit,
And saints in sweet union appear.
Chorus
Oh, glory to Jesus! we hail the bright day,
And high on our banner salvation display,
The mists of confusion are passing away.
We stand in the glory that Jesus has given,
The moon as the dayspring doth shine;
The light of the sun is now equal to seven,
So bright is the glory divine.
Now filled with the Spirit, and clad in the armor
Of light and omnipotent truth,
We'll testify ever and Jesus we'll honor,
And stand from sin Babel aloof.
The prophet's keen vision, transpiercing the ages,
Beheld us to Zion return;
We'll sing of our freedom, though Babylon rages,
We'll shout as her city doth burn.
The fig-tree is budding, the "evening" is shining,
We welcome the wonderful light!
We look for the Savior, for time is declining,
Eternity's looming in sight.
As he saw the church of God emerge out of confusion into the brightness which should characterize the evening of time, he wrote the following.
Brighter days are sweetly dawning,
Oh the glory looms in sight!
For the cloudy day is waning,
And the evening shall be light.
Misty fogs, so long concealing
All the hills of mingled night,
Vanish, all their sin revealing,
For the evening shall be light.
Lo, the ransomed are returning,
Robed in shining crystal white,
Leaping, shouting, home to Zion,
Happy in the evening light.
Free from Babel, in the Spirit,
Free to worship God aright,
Joy and gladness we're receiving,
Oh, how sweet this evening light!
Halleluiah! saints are singing,
Vict'ry in Jehovah's might;
Glory, glory, keep it ringing,
We are saved in evening light.
Another hymn of the return, and also embodying Sister Fisher's vision of the stone tower, was the following:
We are Coming, halleluiah! we are coming home to God;
Jesus only we're beholding, who has washed us in his blood:
We are marching back to Salem at the trumpet's joyful sound,
And we're building God's own temple on it's ancient holy ground.
Chorus
We are coming, Oh, we're coming, with the glory in the soul!
Grace we're shouting as we're bringing Christ, the headstone we extol;
Though as captives long we've suffered, we do feel the royal blood,
And we're rising to our freedom in the fullness of our God.
While we're working, we are fighting all the mighty foes around;
Tho' in wrath they do oppose us we will not desert the ground.
O my God, do thou remember all those wicked plotting crews,
Hear them saying in derision, "Now what do these feeble Jews?"
Thou art coming, mighty Jesus, in the power of thy grace;
Now our souls break forth in singing at the smiling of thy face:
Fear of sect, a mount of terror, thou hast made an open plain,
And the misty fogs of error all have vanished in thy name.
Our foundation strong is Jesus, he the topmost, crowning stone;
Halleluiah! we adore him, king upon his living throne:
And his crimson glory streaming through each crystal stone below
Tints the whole ecstatic temple with the beauty of its glow.
Oh, the glory of this temple far exceeds the former one!
All its stones are bound together in Love's dear eternal Son:
In this building, what a wonder? there's a dwelling place for me;
Yes, thy beauty, O my Savior! I shall here forever see.
Many of his hymns, as is usually the case with hymn writers, were prompted by some particular occasion or suggestion. Thus in connection with the terrific furnace trials at Bucyrus, Ohio, in 1883, he wrote:
Why should a mortal man complain
At his trials in this wicked world?
Nay, let us thank God's holy name
For all his love o'er us unfurled.
Chorus
O Jesus, bear our souls above
Each wave of trouble that we meet!
Then in the furnace of thy love
We'll sing thy praise with joy complete.
Oh, why should any one oppressed
Forget the promise of our God!
To thee each providence is blessed
If in love thou bear the chastening rod.
Oh, who would cast away the gold
We have gathered in the furnace flame!
And who would wish again the dross
Here purged in our Redeemer's name?
Once when a new printing-press was installed in the Office (he always rejoiced when there was an increase of printing equipment), he wrote the following in anticipation of The Trumpet's being raised to louder blasts.
Onward moves the great eternal
In the order of his plan;
Louder, nearer rolls the thunder
Of his awful word to man.
Since by sin this earth was blighted
God has whispered of his love,
Dreams and visions by his prophets
Breathed of mercy from above.
Louder speaks his love in Jesus,
Heaven sweetly chants his fame;
Earth receives its glorious Savior,
Halleluiah to his name!
Yet the world is wrapped in slumber;
Louder raise the Trumpet's blast;
Oh, in mercy let it thunder,
Ere the day of mercy's past!
In the cages of deception
Souls are pining to be free;
Quickly sound the proclamation
Of the glorious jubilee.
The hymn "Perishing Souls at Stake" was one of the early productions. We quote this hymn and its history as it appeared in The Trumpet of December 15, 1885.
Perishing souls at stake today!
Says the banner of Christ unfurled;
Pleading in love for help to save
Blood-bought sinners o'er all the world.
Perishing souls at stake we see,
Yet the Savior has died for all;
Go and invite them earnestly,
Some will surely obey the call.
Perishing souls at stake today,
There's a famine in all the land;
Many are dying for the bread
Freely given by Jesus' hand.
Perishing souls at stake, go tell
What the Savior has done for you,
How be redeemed your soul from hell,
And is able to save them, too.
Perishing souls at stake we know,
Oh, do pity the sinner's fate!
Brother and sister, will you go,
Give them warning before too late.
Perishing souls at stake today,
Can you tarry for earthly dross?
Fly to the rescue, don't delay,
Bring the needy to Jesus' cross.
The foregoing song was suggested to our mind by a solemn vision given to Brother C. Ogan, of Latty, Ohio, on the night previous to September 19. He saw Christ displaying a banner upon which was written these words: "Perishing Souls at Stake." That day we had a very solemn meeting at Jerry City, Ohio. The Spirit of God was present, making imperative calls for workers in the vineyard. Our soul was burdened with an awful sense of perishing souls at stake. All hearts were melted before the Lord. A number acknowledged the solemn commission. Dear Brother Ogan was one of them, relating this solemn and beautiful vision.
We pray that all who that day confessed the call of God may go forward, lest that "woe is me be upon them, and perishing souls be lost for whom the blessed Savior died. In about all the meetings this fall the same great burden has come upon our soul for men and women of God to go forth and hold up the light of his saving truth. O ye that have the real fire of God in your souls, can you tarry at home to watch a few earthly effects, when there is such a sore famine in all the land! And you who have found the true salvation of Christ Jesus are the only ones that can bring the living bread to others. College bread will not do. 'Dumb dogs can not bark'; Babylon priests are full of darkness, and souls are dying all around. Oh! if. you have any gratitude in your hearts for what Christ has done for you, go and tell others, and some will surely receive the joyful tidings. Oh. How sad this world with no gospel but the wretched stuff given by Babylon priests! And most everywhere there are at least one or two honest souls who long for the light. Can you stay at home for the sordid dust of earth and let them perish? Oh, fly to the rescue, don't delay; bring the needy to Jesus Christ!
After a few years both Fisher and Jeffrey dropped out of the ranks and ceased to contribute their melodies to Brother Warner's hymns. In their place God provided Brother B. E. Warren. No sooner did this young brother become a part of Brother Warner's company than he began to display a marvelous gift for writing melodies. In the years that followed he filled a large place as a writer of music, and he also learned to write the words as well.
When the company were on their Western trip in the autumn of 1887, Brother Warner wrote the hymn "Sowing the Seed" in anticipation of their having to brave the chilling blasts of the winter which was before them.
Unheeding winter's cruel blast,
We venture heaven's seed to east;
Both late and early plant the truth
In aged hearts and tender youth.
Shall we be found with only leaves
When Jesus comes to gather sheaves?
Nay, sowing daily o'er the land,
We'll come with joyful sheaves in hand.
Nor is the precious labor hard,
Its glory is its own reward;
We plant in hearts of grim despair
A life that blooms as Eden fair.
Oh, were this life the utmost span,
The closing destiny of man,
No toil could half so blessed prove
As sowing seeds of peace and love.
But heaven's bright eternal years
have bottled up our sowing tears;
There we shall greet in holy bliss
The souls we turned to righteousness.
Then sow the seed in every field,
And grace will bring the golden yield;
We soon shall sing the joyful song,
And shout the blessed harvest-borne.
The song "Who Will Suffer With Jesus?" had its origin while the company were in the South in the winter of 1890-91. It was written at the time a mob assaulted the house in which Brother Warner was preaching and a sharp, flying missile struck him on the side of the face, causing it to bleed.
Who will suffer with the Savior,
Take the little that remains
Of the cup of tribulation
Jesus drank in dying pains?
Who will offer soul and body
On the altar of our God;
Leaving self and worldly mammon,
Take the path that Jesus trod?
Who will suffer for the gospel,
Follow Christ without the gate;
Take the martyrs for example,
With them glory at the stake?
Oh, for consecrated service
'Mid the din of Babel strife!
Who will dare the truth to herald
At the peril of his life!
Soon the conflict will be over,
Crowns await the firm and pure;
Forward, brethren, work and suffer,
Faithful to the end endure.
Lord, we fellowship thy passion,
Gladly suffer shame and loss;
With thy blessing pain is pleasure,
We will glory in thy cross.
One of the prominent features of the reformation was the sweet, heavenly singing of the saints. Wherever Brother Warner's company went the people were attracted by the singing. They were not what the world would call "trained singers"; they were not even adept at reading music. But God blessed the singing, so that the songs, sung in the element of the Spirit, were simply heavenly. At the time the company held the first meeting at Walkerton, Indiana, a theatrical troupe came to the town. So many people had flocked to Brother Warner's meetings that the house was packed and there were not many left to attend the theatrical concert. The troupe, not having a sufficient audience, came to the place of meeting and gave some instrumental music just outside in order to attract the people. Of course it interfered with the preaching. Brother Warner said, "Sing a song." Sister Nannie Kigar, who was the soprano of the company and always ready with a suitable selection, started a song. The people decided to remain. Many and powerful were the effects of these heaven-inspired songs.
Mention has been made already of the instance where the cattle listened and gazed with wonder when Brother Warner's company were singing at a place where they had stopped in the edge of the woods for dinner. Brother Warren says that once when they were traveling on the road and singing they were passing a field where there were cattle, horses, and other live stock, and that all of these followed along inside the fence until they reached the corner of the field, seeming to be attracted by the wonderful charm of the singing.
At the time the company visited St. James, Missouri, on the second Western tour, Brother Warner wrote the hymn "Sing it Again" at a place where they were stopping in the country. Brother Warren then composed the music, and they began singing it. When the time came for them to be taken to the train to leave that part of the country, it was decided that they should be conveyed to Jefferson City in order to afford a little country ride for a change. They camped out the first night, and reached Jefferson City the second day, early in the afternoon. They decided to visit the State prison, and as the weather was warm they left their wraps in the baggage room of the railroad station until they should return. When they came back the baggage room was locked, and the temperature was falling and becoming just a little chilly. Everything was quiet around; not a sound could be heard except the clicking of the telegraph instrument in the office. The train they were to take would not be due until in the night, and as the waiting room was open they gathered a little fuel and built a fire. When this was done Brother Warner gave a little jump (he always seemed happy enough to jump at any time) and said, "Let us have a song." Naturally enough they sang the new song "Sing it Again". Soon the door opened and in came the operator, and then shortly, almost before they were aware of it, a number of others had gathered and were listening intently. When the song was ended, the operator said, "This reminds me of my childhood days; won't you sing that song again?" They sang it again, and then Brother Warner, as his manner frequently was, took out his Bible and said, "Perhaps you would not object to a little of the Word of God." The operator had to attend to his office duties, but the others listened. Next testimonies were proposed. And so they had a precious little meeting in the waiting room of the railroad station, and the new song had already begun to be useful. We here reproduce the words.
Let us sing the name of Jesus, oh, that name we love so dear!
Sweetest anthem earth or heaven ever breathed on mortal ear;
In that name we have salvation, oh, how precious is the flow!
Sing, oh, sing the name of Jesus, for it makes us white as Snow!
Sing the lovely name of Jesus, oh, the precious Lamb of God!
Lo, he died our souls to ransom, he redeemed us by his blood:
Let the joyful overflowing of our hearts so full of love
Sound aloud the name of Jesus with the mighty host above.
Sing, oh, sing the name of Jesus, he is worthy, he alone,
Glory, honor, and salvation chant with angels round the throne;
Sing it softly in the Spirit, sing it loud as thunders roll,
Sing with rapture, halleluiah, to the Lamb that saved my soul.
Yes, we'll sing the name of Jesus, 'tis the only name that's giv'n
That can save a guilty sinner, and no other under heav'n.
Oh, we love the name of Jesus, his salvation we adore!
Blessed be the name of Jesus, we will sing it more and more.
We will sing the name of Jesus all along the path of life,
We will sing it, halleluiah, mid the battle and the strife;
We will sing it all together when we meet upon that shore,
Oh, we'll sing the name of Jesus, blessed name forevermore!
I shall never forget the time when Brother Warner and his company first came to my father's home in north-western Illinois. I have always considered it the brightest event in my life's career. Today, as memory carries me back to that time, and I imagine myself in that same situation, I have indescribable feelings. They arrived on a Saturday afternoon in the spring of 1888. My father and I had gone to engage a schoolhouse for the meetings when the company arrived. My sister had been converted the previous year; but during her attendance at school through the winter she had become somewhat cold spiritually and so had no particular pleasure in anticipating the coming of "Warner's band," as she had heard them called. When the company arrived in the house, wearied with much travel, they seemed particularly to enjoy the sense of home, and they sang the hymn,
Home, home, brightest and fairest,
Hope, hope, sweetest and best.
My sister simply melted. That song introduction was enough. Then they had prayer, and their hearts welled up in thankfulness to God for his blessings and care over them. If there ever were. men who could pray, Brother Warner was one of them.
After my father and I returned home, my sister and mother wanted me to hear the company sing, and of course another song was requested. They sang this time "The All-cleansing Fountain" and it seemed to be the sweetest singing I had ever heard. During their stay in our home Brother Warren did some composing at the organ, and this seemed wonderful to me. I had never seen such people, whose countenances were aglow with the victory of salvation and who were so filled with praise and song.
While the company were at our home we decided to give them a little outing by taking them across the Mississippi to the city of Clinton, Iowa, then remarkable for its lumber trade, and for having eight large sawmills, one of them the largest sawmill in the world. As we were driving along the road and singing "The All-Cleansing Fountain" a neighbor who was working in a field near by but who on account of an intervening ridge could not see us, heard the song. Not knowing from whence the sound came he concluded it was angel music, and when he went to his house he declared to his wife that he had heard the angels sing.
A large class of songs that were used were such as expressed victory and worship. Another large class were those of invitation and warning to sinners. In the later books, about all topics that are useful in Christian work were represented.
Songs of Victory was the name of the first book published. It was issued in 1885. This was followed in 1888 by Anthems from the Throne. The third book was Echoes from Glory, published in 1893. Following these a new book of songs has been issued about every four to six years.
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Chapter 18
POETIC INSPIRATIONS
To reflect on Brother Warner's career is to marvel at the accomplishment that was crowded into a few short years. He was active in several callings at one time. As a minister with the heavy burden of the gospel upon him he labored hard, preaching often and being everywhere in demand. On occasions he preached for three and even four hours in one discourse, the audience as well as the preacher forgetful of the passing time. Though in physical endurance he was weak, yet there were perhaps few speakers who could wear so well in the labor of the pulpit. His private work of instructing seekers, and his ministrations for the sick, requiring the exercise of prayer and faith, absorbed his strength and occupied much time. As editor of the paper, to which he contributed articles, many of them doctrinal and requiring study, and for which he had to edit articles written by others, it was necessary that he spend much time with the pen. His correspondence also was considerable, and as stenographers were not so available then as now he had to do his writing with his own hand. Where would he get time for study and prayer, and for writing hymns or poetry? And yet he accomplished all of these.
In the latter years of his life he apparently was declining to some extent in ministerial vigor; but as a writer his productions seemed only to grow richer with his years. Had his life been prolonged to the full period of what is commonly expected of man, he would have given to the world some of the finest poetical productions. His poems are not at all inferior, though written during a strenuous career.
In 1890 he collected and published his poems in a book entitled Poems of Grace and Truth. It contained 343 pages. With the exception of a small book entitled Bible Readings, and the limp-cover binding of a songbook, this book of poems was the first cloth bound book ever made at the Gospel Trumpet Publishing Office. The press work is imperfect owing to the poor stereotyped plates from which it was printed. A number of beautiful poems were written since the publication of this book and therefore were not included in it.
His longest poem was his "Meditations on the Prairie". It occupies eighty-four pages of the book mentioned and is written in ten-syllable iambic verse. It touchingly describes with beautiful imagery the author's acquaintance with and his subsequent marriage to Sarah A. Keller, and the circumstances that led to her deception and separation from him. His own description of its origin, as given in the preface to the poem, is as follows:
In the summer of 1873, the author took a mission field in Nebraska, much of which had just been settled the previous year. My companion had died one year previously. Just before going West a correspondence was arranged with Sister Sarah A. Keller, which soon kindled into a glowing flame of love. A year later I returned and we were happily joined in marriage. With her precious company I came again to this blooming plain, where one year was sweetened with the most transporting conjugal bliss. In 1875 we returned to Ohio, where life and labors flowed on in uninterrupted happiness, until in 1884 the dear object of our love was deceived by the wily foe and torn from our soul, a crisis that threatened our frail life, and which we survived only by the grace of God.
In the fall of 1887, while on an extensive Western tour, we came into a new part of the great prairie, which strikingly reminded us of our travels on the new plains twelve and thirteen years before. There the Spirit touched our mind with vivid recollections of that cherished one, who made for us this prairie a blissful Eden. An inspired imagination also portrayed what dire wreck of our own life might have ensued from the crisis of broken love had not the grace of God averted the sad issue. This cast us on the sod beneath a load of gratitude, where the poem was inspired as our heart's humble tribute for Heaven's pity and sustaining arm.
Brother Warner was a great admirer of nature as the handiwork of God, and several of his poems are on nature subjects. What we give here are in most cases but selections from the poems named, the omissions being indicated by stars.
AUTUMN
Gone is the spring with all its flowers,
And gone the summer's verdant show;
Now strewn beneath the autumn bowers,
The yellow leaves await the snow.
Behold, this earth so cold and gray
An emblem of our life appears;
Its blooming robes sink to decay,
To rise again in round of years.
Earth cheers its winter sleep with dreams
Of springtime's warmth and gentle rain,
When she shall wake to murmuring streams
And songs of merry birds again.
So we come forth like springtime flowers,
Soon into manhood's summer go,
Then, like the leaves of autumn bowers,
Lie down beneath the winter's snow.
And there our bodies slumb'ring wait
Till time's short winter day has fled,
And Christ, our Lord and Advocate,
Shall come again to wake the dead.
Then winter's storm and summer's heat
Shall end in everlasting spring,
And all immortal we shall meet,
And round the throne of glory sing.
NEW YEAR'S GREETING
January 1, 1890
Another year has come and gone
So swiftly flows unceasing time.
Forever on and on and on,
With sorrow's groan and merry chime
Commingled in its surging tide,
Time bears along upon its flood
Poor human wrecks by sin destroyed;
Yet o'er its stream the hand of God
Still bends his bow of hope divine.
Its hues of love in beauty shine.
Another year of hope and fear
Has swept around its dial-plate,
And with it thousands disappear
To higher bliss or awful fate.
God grant to us who yet survive
A heart of fervent gratitude,
And grace that we may wholly live
To glorify the source of good;
Then, should this be our final year,
We'll sink to rest without a fear.
Another year hath brought its store
In rich profusion at our feet,
That we should, heart and soul adore
Our Maker's love so broad and deep.
And have you cast your bread upon
The waters of the passing year,
In hope that what your hands have done
Will in much future good appear?
Then as thy faith so shall it be;
In coming days thine eyes shall see.
* * *
The poem "To the Alien" is addressed to his wife, Sarah, Who, early in the year 1884, through the influence of a spiritual deceiver, as already stated, left her husband.
TO THE ALIEN
Three years have fled since billows wild
Wrecked our domestic bark,
And chilled your love for husband, child,
Mid waters cold and dark.
"How wonderful the mystery,"
Astonished men exclaim,
"That hearts so knit in unity
Could ever part in twain?"
* * *
We suffered some adversities,
A portion all must find,
When compassed round by devotees
Whose creeds we'd left behind.
When pressing to the harvest field
Of everlasting truth,
And just before the golden yield,
Alas! you turned aloof.
Oh, how I wish that you could share
In these ecstatic days,
Enjoy the light of God se pure,
And help to sing his praise!
My soul had longed for more of God,
More glory in the cross;
But never dreamed that it must come
Through such a bitter loss.
I can not chide his providence,
But count it all the best;
For in each storm of violence
I sink to sweeter rest.
* * *
'Twas not a rival filled thine eyes
With colored fancies rare;
But Satan came in deep disguise,
And wrought the dread affair.
* * *
We still are joined in Eden's bond
Of matrimony true;
While life endures, yet undissolved
It binds my heart to you.
No court of man nor Satan's power
Can disannul the tie;
Though spirits rent, in evil hour,
"One flesh" are you and I.
No face so fair, no heart so warm,
Upon this verdant sod,
Shall alienate with rival charm
The wife received of God.
So I will walk with God alone,
And bless his holy name,
Till he shall bring the alien home
To dwell in love again.
In vision of the night I saw--
And woke to joyful praise--
True nature reimprint her law
That ruled thy former days.
From nature's pure affections then
Grace led to love divine;
Then heaven's bliss alone can bound
Our mutual joy sublime.
God grant that this may real prove
Through coming years of time,
And in his shining courts above,
An endless crown be thine.
The hand of God alone can take
The broken chords of love
And knit them in a union sweet
As love's pure reign above.
Here I will close my present rhyme;
But ever pray for you,
That God may give you back again
The heart of woman true.
Then touched by sweet seraphic strains,
With all the heavenly throng,
I'll shout aloud my Savior's praise,
And sing another song.
TO MY DEAR SIDNEY
The heart that feels a father's love
And swells with love's return,
Will kindly bear this overflow
Toward my only son.
Yes, Sidney's love so blent with mine,
A poem shall employ
A token left to coming time
That father loved his boy.
One gentle vine--thy tendrils sweet
Around my soul entwine;
A comfort left in sorrows deep,
One heart to beat with mine.
Thy life has dawned in peril's day,
Mid wars that heaven shake;
Thy summers five, eventful, they
Like surges o'er thee break.
Thy little soul has felt the shock
Of burning Babel's fall,
When hell recoiled in fury black
And stood in dread appall.
But wreaking out his vengeance now,
Like ocean's terror dark,
Hell's monster came athwart the bow
Of our domestic bark.
Thy guardian angel wept to see
This brunt of fury sweep
The girdings of maternity
From underneath thy feet.
But pity still her garland weaves
Around thy gentle brow,
And angels on thee softly breathe
Their benedictions now.
They soothe and bless thy manly heart,
And wipe away thy tears;
So tempered to thy bitter lot,
The bitter sweet appears.
An exile now is each to each,
As banished far at sea;
A martyr on his island beach,
I daily think of thee.
And stronger love has seldom spanned
The mocking billows wild,
Than are the chords that ever bind
To my beloved child.
Though sundered not by angry main,
Compelled from thine embrace,
We flee abroad in Jesus' name
To publish Heaven's grace.
Thy little heart can not divine
Why Papa stays away,
But coming years will tell, if thine,
The great necessity.
When sickness crushed thy little form,
I knew my boy was ill;
I heard thee in my visions call,
But duty kept me still.
A trial deep, to feel thy pain,
And yet debarred from thee,
To show that sinners lost are in
A greater misery.
Oh, may this lesson speak to thee
When Father's work is done!
And highest may thy glory be,
A soul for God is won.
And now, my son, attentive hear
My benediction-prayer,
And ever tune thy heart and ear
To heaven's music rare;
For ere the light of day had shone
In thy unfolding eyes,
We gave thee up to God alone,
A living sacrifice;
And oft repeated when a babe,
To God our child was given;
And Jesus heard the vow we made,
And wrote it down in heaven.
So, like a little Samuel, you
Must answer "Here am I";
Give all your heart to Jesus, too,
For him to live and die.
Like Samuel, serve the living God,
His temple be thy home;
In love obey his holy Word,
Thy gentle heart his throne.
The Lord is good, my darling boy;
He made thy body well,
And he will bless thee evermore,
If in his love you dwell.
A new edition may you be
Of Father's love and zeal,
But yet enlarged so wondrously
That earth thy tread may feel.
The poem "Throwing Ink at the Devil" refers to the printing and publishing of The Gospel Trumpet. The place "where two lightning tracks lie crossing" is Grand Junction, Michigan, where the publishing office was then located.
At Wartburg Castle sat a son of thunder
Dealing heaven's dynamite,
When, lo! before him 'peared an apparition,
Fury-threatening demon sight.
The piercing words of truth, so long besmothered
Flashed the burning wrath upon
The devil's patent monk and pope religion,
Which confronts the dread reform.
* * *
Before the dauntless, lion-hearted Luther
Forth the hellish monster stood,
Drawn from his prison by the scattering theses
'Gainst the Romish viper brood.
He lifted up his eyebrows knit with thunder,
To the hellish specter said,
With stern address, "Du bist der wahre Teufel!"
Hurls an inkstand at his head.
The doctor's splattering missile, proving potent,
Drove old Satan from his door;
But ink he threw on paper at the devil
Battered down his kingdom more.
* * *
Not now, as did the sturdy Wittenberger
Fling an inkstand at the foe,
But by the mighty force of steam, much faster
We the battle-ink can throw.
Just at a point where lightning tracks lie crossing,
Northward, southward, east, and west,
The Lord has planted his revolving cannon,
Firing ink at Satan's crest.
* * *
Not only toward the main forewinds of heaven
Sin-consuming ink is shot,
But right and left in force, 'tis outward given,
Striking sin in every spot.
When round "Mansoul" Immanuel plants his army,
To retake the famous town,
On "eye-gate" hill he plants this mighty engine,
Till surrendered to his crown.
If chance a pilgrim's shield of faith is drooping,
And his heart with fear oppressed,
Then comes the ink-winged angel trumpet sounding,
And his soul anew is blessed.
TRUTH
"And what is truth?" asked Pilate, sober,
Immersed in deep perplexity,
And trembled while in judgment over
The One his final judge must be.
He asked, but waited not the answer;
For in his majesty there stood
The Truth himself at his tribunal--
-Yea, the incarnate Truth of God.
Shine on with all thy constellation,
The precious attributes of God,
Love, mercy, justice, and compassion;
For second in thy magnitude
Thou only art in love's effulgence.
"I am the truth," and "God is love";
From both in one omnific fullness
Proceed the streams of truth above.
High honored and from everlasting
Thou art, O Truth, a pillar strong,
Upholding justice, faith, and virtue.
Before the stars together sang
Our ill-doomed planet's new creation,
Thy hand didst hold, on heaven's throne,
The balance weighing every nation,
Upon the worlds that round thee shone.
Thou art the firm and deep foundation
Of hope and universal good,
And on thy broad eternal bosom
Is based the awful throne of God.
The myriad stars that gem the ocean
Of boundless space, at thy command
Pursue their even-tenored motion,
And are supported by thy hand.
* * *
AUTUMN LEAVES
A mournful sermon greets my ear!
The pensive season of the year
Now preaches in a muffled tone,
From nature's5 fast-decaying throne.
Come to the woodland's cold retreat;
The leaves that rustle at thy feet,
With all that linger o'er thy head--
Commingling, yellow, green, and red--
And all that, trembling, leave their place
And softly greet their mother's face,
As sailing from their lofty top
They in your presence mournful drop,
Remind the thoughtful passer-by,
Thy falling autumn, too, is nigh.
Life has its gay and happy spring,
When birds of every feather sing;
Its warm and verdant summer, brief,
Which hastens to the yellow leaf,
Soon winter's icy hand will lie
Upon our cold and lifeless clay.
But oh! our soul--where will it be
Throughout the long eternity?
How can this question pass your mind
As falling leaves drift in the wind?
* * *
Ah! there's a sweet and sacred spell
That draws me to the shady dell;
Here could my soul with God remain
In meditation's holy frame.
Ho! all ye men that know not God,
Come seek him in the shady wood;
And, all ye saints of feeble love,
When will ye come and wisely prove
The blessedness that crowns the hour
That's spent with God in leafy bower!
If only heard your prayers ye say,
Then unto God ye never pray;
For did ye truly seek his face
And pray to win his saving grace
You'd pray when mortals are not near,
Right in your heavenly Father's ear.
In public, too; yea, everywhere,
But most of all with secret prayer;
Where only silent leaves applaud,
There would ye bow and worship God.
* * *
Then in the hush of solitude
Come listen to the voice of God;
Come oft, and he shall teach thine ear
His gentle words of love to hear.
There is no place on earth so sweet
As forest shades, where streamlets meet
And sing aloud their rocky ways,
With birds, and universal praise.
Do not the lover and his maid,
Delighted, walk the balmy shade,
And there unlock, with words so blest,
The pent-up love within their breast!
The crazy-quilt spread on the ground,
Of beauty-tinted leaves around,
Each bright sunbeam and fragrant flower,
And nature's music in the bower--
But, most of all, the cooing dove--
Lend inspiration to their love.
And does not nature's solitude
Inspire a soul to worship God!
Behold, he framed her majesty,
Cast up her hills, and carved the way
For babbling brooks that flow between
And tread the winding valley's green.
The many lovely trees that spread
Their sheltering wings above our head,
Rose up by his supreme behest,
With all their nuts and fruitage blest,
He taught the vine their trunks to climb,
Like cords of love their boughs entwine.
* * *
Hear thou, O man, our autumn chant
While sunbeams coldly o're us slant,
And mournfully we fall so low
To don our winding sheet of snow,
There doomed in silence to decay.
So, too, thou, man, must pass away;
Thy springs of love shall lower run
Until thy life's last setting sun;
Then in thy grave-suit, coldly wound,
Like us return to mother ground.
But we are not without a seed,
From which anew there may proceed
Our kind to grow and multiply,
As round and round the seasons fly.
So, man, within thy mortal breast
There is a soul, immortal quest,
That shall reanimate thy clay,
And both, immortal, live for aye.
Thou shalt from winter's sleep arise,
And meet thy Savior in the skies.
With this blest hope so sure and bright
All seasons beam with golden light,
In winter's storm and summer's heat
The pure in heart have joys complete;
And when the close of life appears,
Their pleasures ripen with his years
Unlike the sinner, dark and cold
Who graceless, godless, hopeless, old,
Sits lowly down in autumn's vale,
His life all fruitless to bewail.
Each falling leaf his conscience stings
And thoughts of future judgment brings;
Yea, warns him that the time is nigh
When be in black despair must die.
Unlike the life in folly spent,
And now with sinful years is bent
Low at the grave with dismal moan;
Nay, "for the righteous light is sown,"
Yea, light that brightens in the vale
Of falling leaves, where he can hall
The glories of another world;
Where mortal shafts are never hurled,
Nor cruel frosts can ever sting.
There life begins another spring
To flourish in eternal green,
In heaven's high celestial scene.
BEAUTIFUL SPRING
Ah, gentle spring, thy balmy breeze,
New chanting 'mid the budding trees,
A glorious resurrection sings!
And on thy soft, ethereal wings
Sweet nectar from ten thousand flowers,
That bloom in nature's happy bowers
Thou dost as holy incense bring
To Him who sheds the beams of spring.
Far in the South thy bloom appeared,
And all our journey northward cheered;
A thousand miles in sweet embrace,
We northward held an even race;
Or if by starts we did outrun
Thy even tenor from the sun,
Ere long we blessed thy coming tread
And quaffed the odors thou didst spread.
O brightest, sweetest of the year!
When all is vocal with thy cheer,
Thy lily-cups and roses red
With us some tear-drops also shed.
The cherry-trees, in shrouds of white,
Bring back to mind a mournful sight-
A coffined brother 'neath the bloom,
Just ore they bore him to the tomb.
Ah, yes, thou sweet, beguiling spring,
Of thee, my inmost heart would sing.
"The time of love," all bards agree
To sing in merry notes to thee.
Yea, such thou art, and happy they
Who walk in love's delightful day
Along the path thy flakes hath strewn,
And know indeed her constant boon.
But what of him who walks alone,
With past love fled and turned to stone?
Shall not the springtide music's roll
Mock withered joys and sting the soul?
Not in the heart embalmed in love
Transported from the worlds above,
Nor seasons, no, nor else can bring
Heartaches where only God is king.
That soul an endless spring enjoys
Where life the will of God employs.
He 'mid the fields of bliss may tread,
And feast on joys that long have fled,
By sacred memories' glowing trace
More than the heart untouched by grace,
Can drink from full fruition's stream,
Or paint in fancy's wildest dream.
O God! thou art the life of spring,
The source of all the seasons bring,
The soul of all the joys we know,
The fountain whence our pleasures flow.
While nature wakes from winter's sleep,
And gentle clouds effusive weep,
We join creation's grateful lays,
And celebrate our Maker's praise.
The deaths of individuals furnished inspiration for many a verse from Brother Warner's pen. Celia Kilpatrick Byrum was one of the early workers in the Gospel Trumpet Office, when the paper was published at Grand Junction, Michigan. Her death occurred on the 11th of December, 1888.
And is she gone--dear Celia gone?
Such news would tax credulity
Did not the Spirit's previous tone
Toll in our bosom mournfully
The thought, "She's left this mortal clime,
And we shall see her face no more
Until we pass the bounds of time
And meet upon celestial shore."
'Twas in our heart to tune our lyre
To sing thy cheerful wedding-day;
But debts are made by fond desire,
More than our fleeting time can pay.
So now we sing our mournful lay--
Another epoch, followed soon
To thy poor soul, a brighter day
Than that when blessed beside thy groom.
The Author of these feeling hearts
Chides not affection's flowing tears;
Put with them soothing balm imparts,
And in his arms of love he bears
Poor nature's heavy burden up:
So when bereavements press our mind,
Grace drops such sweetness in the cup
That even then we comfort find.
But is she gone whose heart e'er burned
With such devoted, fervent zeal?
To bless mankind her spirit yearned,
Wished every heart God's love might seal.
She thought no sacrifice too dear,
No paleful toll and care too great,
That all this world the truth might hear
And gain redemption's blissful state.
O sister, while thy eyes beheld
Whate'er thy willing hands could do,
No needed rest thy footsteps held,
No moderation couldst thou know;
Regarding not thy slender frame--
To pious toil so passionate--
Till thy enfeebled limbs refrained
To execute thy heart's mandate.
* * *
When sickness had already cast
Its waning paleness on thy cheek,
God folded thee within the breast
Of love, connubial, warm and deep.
Thank heav'n for this provision kind,
To bless, support, and comfort thee;
On those strong arms thy life declined
Till from thy suffering body free.
* * *
Dear Celia's gone! How sad the news,
Dear saints, this mourning Trumpet brings!
The hands that dropped refreshing dews
Upon its flying-angel wings
And toiled so hard to set the lines
That burned upon your hearts with love,
Inspired your souls a thousand times,
Has gone to blissful toils above.
* * *
Ah! now invert the column rules,
And dress The Trumpet sad with crape,
That all who read may know it feels
And weeps the loss of friend so great.
Her artful fingers shall no more
Set up its many vocal peers,
Nor shall her anxious heart yet pour
Upon its sheets her moist'ning tears.
Her gentle voice, so fine and sweet
The Trumpet organ's highest key
Is singing now, at Jesus' feet,
With heaven's joyful minstrelsy.
Oh! could we near the pearly gate
And listen to her ransomed song,
Our souls would more felicitate
The bliss of that immortal one.
The poem "The Marriage of a Mr. Hope" is a play on the word "hope" and has a slight touch of the humorous.
It appeared that Mr. Hope,
Entertained the pleasing hope
That some hopeless one among the fair
Was seeking hope from life's despair,
And was pleased with Hope to share,
The cheerful name of Hope to wear.
And so good Hope went smiling 'round
Till the object of his hope was found;
Then sitting by the fair one's side,
Hope beamed with prospects of a bride.
The question asked, the prompt decision
Turned hopeful's hope to full fruition,
And so it happened very soon,
The beau of hope became a groom.
Then hopeless changed to Hope by name,
And two hopes but one Hope became.
Their bark now launched on the stream of hope,
May all the blessings hope bespoke
Their voyage crown along the way
Of hope's uncrowded blissful day,
And may their happy little bark afford
A lively crew of sunny Hopes aboard;
And when to anchor in the harbor driven
May all their hopes be realized in heaven.
An interesting imaginative story of some length is his poem "Soul Cripple City" in which he represents sectarian religion as a city wherein the inhabitants walk on crutches. The following is the first stanza.
Not a mere imaginary
Object, borne on fancy's wing,
Is the city of this story,
But a real historic thing.
Though by troupes and proper figures
We delineate her fame,
Though she has some mystic features,
She's an entity the same.
He takes up the different denominations as particular brands of crutches on which people hobble.
But whereunto shall we liken,
Or with what similitude,
Paint this foolish generation!
Ah! behold the sinful brood!
All within that mystic city
Walk not upright on their feet,
But on crutches play the cripple--
'Tis a custom they must keep.
Not a man in all Soul Cripple,
Not a woman, girl, or boy,
But must go it on quadruple,
Must the wooden legs employ.
Not one ever tried it walking
On created feet alone;
Not on crutches to be stalking
Were a scandal to the town.
* * *
Next appeared the English crutches,
And the High Episcopal.
Thence the mania fast increases,
Every style conceivable.
Wycliffe crutches, Calvin crutches,
Quaker, Shaker, Mennonite,
Wesley crutches, twenty branches,
M. E. crutches, black and white.
* * *
Then there are the Baptist crutches,
Hard-shelled and inflexible,
Free-will Baptist, bond-will Baptist,
And the creed Six Principle.
There are Baptists called Ephrata,
Saturnarian Baptists, too,
Anabaptist, Calvinistic
Baptist crutches we'll undo.
* * *
In this mart of vain religions
You will find on Water Street,
And at all her river stations,
Crutches vaunted as complete.
But the clubs that they are vending,
Are as hollow as a horn;
They that buy need no repenting,
In cold water they are born.
* * *
All these bapto 'sociations
Have a god of water made,
Leaving fire and salvation
And the blood without the trade,
More than all the sects who clamor,
Just to make the sinner wet,
Who have swallowed down a Campbell,
And are straining at a gnat.
He allots special "Additions" to the city for Adventism, the Salvation Army, Russellism, and Lyman Johnson of The Stumbling Stone. The last of the poem is devoted to God's call to his people to come out of Babylon. We give but three stanzas.
But adieu, for we must travel
With the remnant who return
Fleeing from the fall of Babel,
To the new Jerusalem.
Hark a noise like many waters!
'Tis the captive jubilee,
Like the voice of mighty thunders.
Halleluiah! we are free!
* * *
Jesus is our head and ruler,
And his Word our only guide,
And his gentle Spirit leader,
He our peace, a constant tide
Flowing in our tranquil bosom,
Where is reared the mystic throne
Of the King of peace eternal,
Where he dwells and reigns alone.
Oh, the glorious hope of Zion!
Oh, the riches of her grace!
Ever happy are the people
Who abide in such a place.
God is over all in glory,
And is through them great and small,
And he's in them by his Spirit,
Jesus, Jesus, all in all.
"The Crusades of Hell" is the title of a serial poem describing the fall of man, the plan of salvation, and the different epochs of Christian history. It shows how Satan attempted to destroy the church by martyrdom and, failing in that, next attempted counterfeiting the church by making false churches.
His poems "To the Ocean" and "Good-By Old Rockies" were written on his Pacific Coast trip in the autumn of 1892.
TO THE OCEAN
Help me, O sweet voice of inspiration,
Help me sing one gentle lay
To the ocean's wide and deep creation,
Singing for us night and day.
And thou restless sea, with all thy wonders,
Touch my heart with melody;
For no bard can sing thy awful numbers
Uninspired indeed by thee.
'Twas a balmy evening in October,
As our train sped on its time,
That we came in sight of God's great ocean,
To the old Pacific brine.
Swiftly gliding down its ancient orbit,
The great monarch of the light
Dropped his golden smiles upon the water
Ere he bid us all goodnight.
* * *
Thou a preacher art to all the ages,
And thy audience all the world;
Lo! we read thy sermon on the pages
Of the book that God unfurled.
And to all that tread thy sand environs
Thou dost thunder, yea, and show
How the human heart in sin's dominion
Never, never peace can know.
As thy waves in ceaseless turmoil labor,
And in fury beat the shore,
As they writhe and moan and dash asunder,
Rise and fall for evermore,
So the blasting hopes and guilty terrors
Of the sinner's wretched heart,
Restless, fearful, and despairing ever,
From his bosom never part.
Only One has sailed upon the bosom
Of the tempest-troubled sea,
Who could hush the winds and calm the billows--
He who spoke to Galilee.
Only he can break the storms of passion,
And rebuke the fears of hell;
Only he can calm the struggling spirit,
Speak the word, Be still, be still.
* * *
Oh, I bless thy kindness, friend Pacific,
For thy temporizing breath;
For the climate wafted from thee truly
Is an enemy to death.
Sweet and soft and balmy are thy breathings,
Keeping winter blasts away;
And I thank thee, Providence, that brought me
Here to San Diego Bay.
* * *
On this seacoast I would fondly linger,
Where the zephyrs gently breathe
O'er the vineyards vast, and lemon orchards,
Where the bright pomegranates wave;
And the golden orange, figs, and guavas,
Apples, pears, and prunes abound;
With delicious nectarines and peaches,
Blessing all the season round.
Where the ocean moans its solemn numbers,
And the sun outpours its gold
On the clouds which hang, while twilight lingers,
O'er the sea waves rising bold.
And the glorious king of day, descending,
Bids the vintage toilers rest,
While he cools his fevered brow each evening
On the great Pacific breast.
GOOD-BYE, OLD ROCKIES
I love your wild, romantic beauties,
Ye forms that seem to vie
Each with the summit of his neighbor,
And pierce the giddy sky.
Old Rockies, now to you
I bid adieu, adieu,
But hope we part not here forever.
I leave you as I found you, covered
With winter's chilly shroud,
Reaching toward the starry heavens,
And mantled in the cloud.
While I God's mercy preach,
And you his greatness teach,
We jointly glorify our Maker.
I read upon your lofty bulwarks
The might of nature's God,
What fortresses thy hands have builded
Where human feet ne'er have trod!
The strength of these are thine,
And round their apex shine
Jehovah's bright creative glory.
* * *
"Divine Guidance" was a poem of his later years in which he reflects on the kind hand of God upon his whole life.
I own a providence supreme, divine,
Has ruled and overruled this life of mine,
Yes, ruled in all that heaven's love bestows,
O'erruled in that from ill intending foes.
But oh, what mystery
Veiled all his policy,
And made this life a solemn wonder!
To trace the mystic path my feet have trod,
And note how every step is marked of God,
How mercy hovered o'er my single blank
Till at Love's throne my haughty spirit sank,
And saw my pardon free
Flow down from Calvary,
Unlocks my bosom's grateful fountain.
But greater, wider, higher, O my Lord,
My humble walk with thee unfolds thy Word,
Unfolds thy plenitude of love and grace,
And helps thy hand in providence to trace.
And yet high o'er my soul,
Like ocean billows roll,
Unsolved, ten thousand sacred wonders.
I bless thee, O thou wise and loving Guide,
That thou didst lead to full salvation's tide,
And there my heart didst wash in crimson blood,
Restore into the image of my God.
Thenceforth my soul bath been
The palace of a King;
The joyful place of royal banquet.
And I, who kingly honors never dreamed,
Am raised with him who hath my soul redeemed,
To jointly reign on Love's eternal throne,
His peace and joy and glory all my own.
O mystery Providence!
Why lavishly dispense
Thy gifts on one so meanly suited!
Lord Jesus, when I retrospect my life
Down through the varied scenes of mortal strife,
At every change I stand in wonder wrapt,
How thou hast saved and used and blessed and kept,
And by thy blood hast bought
A thing of utter naught;
And well may all the angels marvel.
Besides the foregoing were a number of short poems, also a lengthy poem on Faith, which covers over sixty pages in his book. His poem on Innocence is referred to in our first chapter.
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Chapter 19
LAST YEARS
During the last years of his life Brother Warner's time was devoted in greater proportion to writing than during the preceding years of more active ministerial work in the field. Possessing a weak physical constitution he aged rapidly and seemed elderly at fifty. Due to an earnest desire to accomplish much for the cause of God he had, however, a hope that the Lord would 'satisfy him with long life,' as the Psalmist expresses it. Whether he had any idea that his life might soon draw to a close, it is not known, but at any rate he felt prompted, after the few years he spent in evangelistic tours, to devote more of his time to writing on specific lines of truth. He wished in particular to write a book on prophetic subjects.
He spent the winter of 1891-92 mostly at home writing, but he was not altogether satisfied to be out of the field entirely. He desired in some manner to combine writing with field work.
We have been very desirous that God should manage this poor frail temple so as to get the most effectual service and highest degree of glory. That he has enabled us to preach the gospel for twenty-six years through constant weakness and many infirmities has been a marvel of divine grace and a miracle of divine power. Should any one ask why he did not heal us up soundly. we answer, Many years ago as we cried to God to remove this thorn from our flesh, he taught us that he had weighty responsibilities to lay upon us. and that our afflictions would contribute to that humility and utter dependence upon God that were necessary to fill our calling: that in our weakness he would manifest his own power. So the Lord chose to display his power in upholding us in our afflictions rather than in utterly removing them. So we with the apostle 'glory in afflictions, that the power of Christ may rest upon us.'
Of late years our experience has been something like this: When out in the gospel field and spending our time between meetings chiefly in conversation with the dear brethren, who are always eager to talk about the good Lord and his dealings, an uneasiness would arise in our heart, a conviction that could we be away quietly with the Lord writing the precious things he has given us to set forth, time would be better used and God more glorified. These feelings created a longing to retire to our editorial sanctuary.
But remaining at home this winter, our mind has not yet been exactly satisfied, owing to the many earnest calls to the field. Last fall in Wooster, Ohio, we were kindly provided with a room to ourself. It being only a few moments walk from the hall, we could retire in good time, arise about three in the morning, have a good long time to wait before God, and yet get an early start to work. During that time the Lord blessed us in preaching daily. and we got more writing done, it seems to us, than if at home. Ever since, that arrangement has appeared to my mind as the best possible plan for effectual service to God. Since the Spirit seems to stir our heart to go forth and preach the word and at the same time requires our time uninterrupted by surrounding company and conversation, except when we can be a special help to some soul, we can see no way but to labor chiefly in towns and cities and have a retired place to spend the intervals between meetings before the Lord. This will enable us to make the best use of our time and also avoid the exposure and fatigue of going about from place to place. God knows it is not because we are not willing to endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ, but only for the glory of God, that we may do more good in this short life.
He never could remain long out of the gospel field. It was not his privilege, however, to carry out the plan of working in cities while engaging in writing. He rather had to be subject to calls as they came. To remain in one place very long and engage in writing he found to be weakening, due to the fact that he was likely not to take sufficient exercise. We have already noted his illness with rheumatism just before making the trip to Denver in the spring of 1892, and his sickness he had during that trip. He was not at home long after this trip until he was called to the Pacific Coast. While on the latter tour he spent two weeks, during the holiday season, at Farmersville, California writing on his book on prophecy The Cleansing of the Sanctuary. He returned in February and attended some of the camp- and grove-meetings during the summer. In the latter part of the following winter he spent some time in the home of Brother B. E. Warren, in Springfield, Ohio writing hymns for a new song book he was helping to edit. This book, Echoes from Glory, was ready by the time of the June camp-meeting at Grand Junction.
On August 12, 1893, he was married to Frances Miller. This was his third marriage, his second wife having died in Cincinnati some time previously. During the summer Brother and Sister Warner made a tour to Illinois and Missouri, and later to Pennsylvania.
In the "New Year's Greeting" in The Trumpet for 1894 he expressed a desire to make a world tour. He thought seriously of doing so, but concluded later that his health would not permit. His years were drawing to a close. At the end of the Greeting he wrote the following verses:
My years of time all flee away,
And, swifter than an arrow,
I glide along my pilgrim way,
And hasten to the morrow.
Away, away, see the moments fly,
We can not hold them waiting;
Then on their pinions let us try
To drop a future blessing.
My years of time, how fast they flee!
And yet the scribe of heaven
Records whate'er my actions be,
The thoughts my life has given.
Thanks be to God for his boundless grace
That keeps the record holy;
Just ready, Lord, to see my face,
And enter into glory.
My years of time are meted out,
A moment of probation,
Upon which hangs the awful weight
Of endless destination.
Press on, press on, O my soul, and seek
Eternal life's fruition,
Since everlasting ages reap
The fruits of short duration.
All seem a golden summer;
And each one, blessed with heaven's grace,
Shines brighter than the former.
O God, thou crownest the happy years
With thy unbounded goodness,
Thy wondrous love has changed my tears
To songs of joy and gladness.
My years of time will close ere long
Where blooms an endless spring,
Where all the ransomed swell the song
The angels cannot sing.
Roll on, sweet years, for I know my last
Will end high up in glory,
The toil I love will sweeten rest
And gem my crown of duty.
In the meantime there had opened up a rather unique method of evangelistic work. Brother G. T. Clayton, who had been engaged in the Eastern field, had planned an Ohio River campaign. He had purchased a boat 26 x 80 and fitted it up for a dwelling and a meeting hall. The plan was to float down the Ohio and tie up at every town on each side of the river and hold meetings for a season. January and February of 1894 were spent on this Floating Bethel, as it was called, with Brother and Sister Clayton. By this means he could do writing and at the same time hold meetings.
Late in May 1894, he held a discussion with an Adventist leader. He attended during this summer, as usual, the general camp-meetings and grove-meetings. He began the erection of a house on the camp-ground near Grand Junction and by the following winter it was sufficiently completed that it could be occupied.
We are making some quotations from his "New Year's Greeting" for 1895. Little did he know that this would be his last message of this kind. He died in December of that year.
To all our dear friends and readers we devoutly wish a happy New Year. May each of you enter the year with a holy zeal to glorify God in your soul and body, which are the Lord's. Nothing better can we wish you than the meekness of Christ in your heart and life and the omnipotence of faith in your work for him.
How solemn and awful the place where we stand today! We have been carried down the stream of time until we approach its very outlet into the boundless expanse of eternity. Upon us have fallen the ends of the world. We are called in the providence of God to take a part in the last great struggle against the principalities and wicked powers of this sin-stricken earth. Oh, how significant to us are the words of John, "Beloved, it is the last time"? The harmonious testimony of all truth and of current facts on earth show us that we are rapidly approaching the last day of the last days. . . But we know nothing with any degree of certainty. God alone knows the awful day and hour, and we may err even in naming the approximate time. Yea, before another New Year's bells ring on earth the trump of God may proclaim the death of time. One thing is sure, the Lord's coming is not very far off, and men of all creeds and faiths seem to agree in this. . . .. In great weakness of body we began the erection of a house last September. Bless God, he has in every way wonderfully blessed us in this work; and now we expect in a couple of weeks to move into our house on the camp and take up the writing of prophetic truth with a physical and consequent mental energy we never before possessed.
We were consecrated to go to the foreign lands, and indeed thought the Lord would soon send us forth. But he showed us we were physically unfit. However, we may yet go. Our only wish is that God may get the greatest possible glory out of all our remnant of time and feeble abilities, coupled on to his omnipotent power and infinite wisdom.
At the close of the Grand Junction camp-meeting of that year, the last year of his life, he wrote the poem "After the Battle."
Lo, they are gone; that armored host
Whose feet have daily pressed
These grounds have fled their several ways,
And all is hushed to rest.
But hark! the leaves upon the trees
In echoes lisp their song,
And on the wings of every breeze
Salvation floats along.
Oh, sacred ground! oh, honored site!
Behold, Jehovah's feet
Have stood among us here, and light
Eternal, pure, and sweet
Has glittered from his sword of truth,
And from his awful eyes
Two fiery streams have issued forth,
Revealing sin's disguise.
No battle-field where armies stood
In rank, with musketry,
And garments dyed in human blood,
Achieved such victory,
Or turned a scale of destiny
Of such momentous weight,
Or ever reared a monument
Of liberty so great.
Not with the cannon's roar of death,
Nor din of battle wild,
But by the burning fuel of fire
Salvation won the field.
'Twas not a crown of earthly state,
Nor freedom's empty boast,
Called forth this mighty host.
The thrones of earth must crumble down,
All nations fade away;
Dominions of antiquity
Cannot abide for aye:
But spirits captured here from sin,
And marshaled with the free,
Shall live and reign and sing and shine
Through all eternity.
But they are gone, those heralds strong,
Who stand within the sun,
And all that army dressed in white
To other fields have run:
And from this holy battle-field
New waves of glory roll,
And these, in turn, will others wake,
To spread from pole to pole.
Amen! amen! let heaven shout,
And earth break forth in song!
A thousand camps, ten thousand groves,
In every city throng.
Along the rivers, o'er the sea,
In Jesus' mighty name,
The present truth that set us free,
To all aloud proclaim.
This was his last poem, so far as is known, excepting a few verses he wrote in connection with obituaries. He assisted in meetings in the northern part of the State during the summer. In this series of meetings he obtained very little rest or time for writing, which emphasized the desire to devote more time to pen preaching at home. It was always hard for him to deny himself the glory of the field work, for he enjoyed it; but he felt he must settle down to write.
Besides some other small works, he prepared a new tract showing the fallacy of the millennium tradition, revised the tract on Marriage and Divorce, and wrote a book entitled Salvation, Present, Perfect; Now or Never. His major work, however, to which he had for some time given attention, was his book on prophecy, The Cleansing of the Sanctuary. Of this he had written nearly four hundred pages.
By this time a children's school was started on the camp-ground, near Grand Junction. He took quite an interest in the school. Among the last things that engaged his mind was the arranging of a system of Bible study. It is evident that he had in mind some sort of training school, for he had planned courses in history, music, penmanship, etc., in addition to Bible study.
And now we come to the end of the journey of life for Brother Warner. That frail body which had often been so wondrously touched and sustained by divine power was to be left in the grip of an affliction that should end his earthly career. His work was done. The purpose to which God had called him had been accomplished. He was to give place to others. This wonderful man of God, whose physical temple had so often by the Holy Spirit been quickened to new life when about to fall, and through whose touch the same divine power had many times brought help to the afflicted bodies of others, must himself now succumb to the hand of Death, for in this world all must die. His vitality, always weak, and now declining, had but slight resisting power against the forces of disease and decay that humanity is subject to in this life. An undermining affliction seemed to be at work in his body. On Sunday, December 1, 1895, he preached a sermon on Christian Growth in the school house (also used for a chapel) on the camp-ground. That he should preach while physically weak was no uncommon thing and no one realized that he was so near the end. That discourse was his last.
The following Sunday he suffered very much from an attack of lung trouble and was unable to speak above a whisper. But after prayer was offered he arose, walked across the room, and praised God aloud, also joining in singing. Thus he fought the fight of faith till the very last. His illness soon developed into pneumonia, and he went down rapidly. About midnight on the night of December 11 his watcher, noticing that he seemed to be resting easy, left the room to have his midnight lunch; but ere he returned the spirit of Brother Warner silently took its flight to the glory world above. Thus he died in solitude, at about 12:30 A.M. Thursday, December 12.
Our friend and brother dear, whose life
Made bright this world of ours,
Has passed away mid early snow,
Soon after Autumn's flowers.
No days of lingering sickness came
To warn us of his death;
No vision from the silent land
To tell of parting breath.
A post-mortem examination revealed an enlarged heart but no trace of tuberculosis, which he had in his younger days and from which he was miraculously healed and preserved.
His spirit was very tenacious of life. As ill as he was, he arose every morning at his regular early hour, and through the day engaged to a slight extent in writing. Even the day before he died he was on his feet a part of the time.
The funeral was held on the camp-ground on Sunday, the 15th. A brief notice of his death was inserted in The Gospel Trumpet of December 12. In the succeeding issue the obituary appeared in full between draped column rules.
Of the last hymn he attempted he completed only the first stanza, one half of the chorus, and the first line of the second stanza, the hymn as he left it appearing thus:
Shall my soul ascend with rapture
When the day of life is past?
While my house of clay shall slumber,
Shall I then with Jesus rest"
Chorus
O my soul, press on to glory,
Worlds of bliss invite thee on,
Oh, shall my immortal spirit
This hymn was afterward completed by Sister Georgia Elliot. Music was composed for it, and it appears as Number 365 in Select Hymns.
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Chapter 20
AS OTHERS KNEW HIM
The following statements by individuals who knew Brother Warner personally are of interest.
Our home was at Lindsey, Ohio when we first met Brother Warner. We were then members of the Evangelical Association. We were both sanctified, but were dissatisfied with the formality of sectism. We attended the regular appointments faithfully; but we craved for deeper spiritual devotion and felt the need of special services where we could talk freely of the glorious doctrine of sanctification. When the people throughout the country heard what we taught, many doors opened among the denominations and many were converted. This stirred the ministers with envy, and they tried to stop the work, but failed, because it was God's work.
This continued for five years. We felt we should be better out of the Church than in it, and often wished to withdraw, but did not know where to go. We made this a subject of special prayer and meditation. We were assured God would bring us and lead us in a way we did not understand.
We had not known Brother Warner, but had heard that he was a deceiver and that everywhere he went he caused the most spiritual to believe his doctrine. We received a card from him stating that he had just closed a meeting and that the Lord was directing him north for the next meeting. He said if we could furnish a place for meeting, either public or private, he with his company should be glad to visit our place.
I asked husband what to do. He said, "Mother, do you know this is the man that we were warned against?" I said, "Yes, I know, but we are praying for God to send us a man who will preach and practice the whole truth. Now, if this man is of God we must receive him." I went to the Lord with the matter and said, "Lord, if thou dost want these people to come and hold a meeting and can use them here, send them right on, without my answering this card." This was on Monday morning. At one o'clock a load of six drove up to the gate. Brother Warner came to the door and knocked. When I opened he said, "Peace be unto this house." I can not tell my feelings, but after I gave them a hearty welcome I was Conscious they were of God and decided they should stay as long as God could use them.
While I was preparing the noon meal for my new guests and my family, they sang numbers 43 and 72 out of Songs of Victory. [These songs were, "Twas Love that Found Out Me" and "The Hand of God on the Wall" respectively.] We never before heard such heavenly music. The tears streamed down husband's cheeks. My daughter was so affected she left the house; it made such an impression on her she afterward gave her heart to God.
God used Brother Warner to help us discern the one body of Christ and the evils of sects. We rented a hall. Sometimes it was crowded with earnest listeners, and I am sure much good would have been done had it not been for the five ministers who lived in our town. One night Brother Warner preached with such power one of the preachers said, "This is too strong for me, and went out. The hall was closed against us and we held our meetings in private homes. On occasions rotten eggs, gravel stones, and mud balls were thrown at us, and through it all Brother Warner praised God and manifested such a calm and gentle spirit one could not help but feel he was a man of God. During these meetings some walked thirty miles to hear the truth.
Brother Warner had been undergoing the great trial of his wife's separation from him, and many earnest prayers went up for her. He gave us some of his letters to read, which he wrote to her, and oh! the gentle spirit, and the kind pleadings which he wrote, were enough to break any heart of stone.
Later we moved to St. Louis, Michigan and it was our privilege to have him in our home often. He always preached with power. I can say his life and conduct were worthy of imitation.
Mrs. Elizabeth Walter
St. Louis, Michigan
The first time I met Brother Warner was in February 1883. He came to our home and assisted in cottage meetings. He was a very humble man of faith and one I dearly loved. At the first camp-meeting at Bangor, Michigan in 1883, he was called away and I took him to the train. As he stepped from the vehicle I handed him eleven dollars. He raised both hands and praised God, as he had had no money for car-fare.
I was with him one time in Chicago in search of a printing press. At the breakfast table in a restaurant he poured out his heart to God in deep, earnest prayer and thanked God for the food, which drew the attention of many listeners. At noon we bought a lunch, so as to save the Lord's money. In an alley just off a busy street we found a dry goods box, which served as a place for our meal. Here he again lifted up his hands and in a deep sense of gratitude gave thanks to God.
S. Michels
South Haven, Michigan
In October, 1881, I was visiting in North Eagle, Michigan at my father's, Daniel B. Howe. A brother sent us a Trumpet, the first we had seen. In a few days J. C. Fisher and wife came there. Father asked him to come and hold a meeting, which he did in December, and was there all winter. Many received the light. In October 1882, Brother Warner came and some others, and held a meeting lasting several days. That was a wonderful meeting to us. When Brother Warner came he seemed to be under a heavy trial on account of some difficulty that had come into his life, and was very sad, apparently unreconciled.
He stayed at our house, and while there God wonderfully blessed him and the clouds began to lift. When he was preaching on Sunday morning, the power of God came down on him and on the people. All wept and shouted. He leaped up a foot or more, turned completely around, and came down facing the audience. From that time the sorrow and sadness were gone.
I did not see him again until in 1894 at the June camp-meeting at Grand Junction. I went to where he was staying at the Trumpet Family residence and met him at the breakfast table. He asked me how the people were at North Eagle. I told him all were well. He put his elbow on the table, his face in his hand, and wept like a child for a few moments. Then he said, "Pardon me, I have to think of how the Lord blessed me there. I never knew that the Lord could bless a mortal man as he blessed me at that meeting."
In 1895, in March, he came to preach my father's funeral. While he was waiting for the train at Grand Ledge he wrote a poem and read it at the funeral. I next saw him at a grove-meeting south of Eagle. He preached a great sermon on the Church. He said nothing of other ministers or denominations, but his discourse when finished left no place for any other church, no possibility of there being another. I never saw him again, as he died the following December.
In my estimation, there never lived a more holy or godly man than he. I doubt whether any other reformer was any more devoted to the cause of Christ than he, or ever preached sermons that were more deep or soul-stirring than his. He lives, in the hearts of the people today, and in his writings will be heard until the end of time.
Julia M. Cheeseman
Liberty Center, Ohio.
Brother Warner was one of the most godly men I ever met; he was so consecrated and devotional. He had great power with God and men; was very humble, and all persons, regardless of rank or position, could approach him for help.
I was at a meeting at Carthage, Missouri where he was preaching. An awful storm came up, and we were in its path with a cloth tabernacle. At the roar of the wind people became alarmed and began to run. Brother Warner cried out, "Stay in the tent; not one shall be hurt." Lifting his eyes and raising his hand heavenward, he said, "Father, calm this storm so thy word can be preached." The storm ceased within a short distance, not more than a block, away. Much damage was done to buildings. The top was blown off the large woolen-mill and box-cars were thrown from the track. I was amazed and said, "What manner of man is this that even the winds obey?"
At another time some boys whose people opposed the truth gathered in a body and began to drink, and finally came to disturb the meeting. They did this on two nights. On the third night, when Brother Warner was preaching he heard them coming. He said, "Father, rebuke the devil in these carousing boys." That was the last of their disturbance. He was a man of faith and was always praising God, even in the deepest trials. He was a reformer indeed.
Lena L. Matthesen
Moore, Oklahoma
My memory is poor and I now recall but a few instances. At one time while Brother Warner was preaching a terrible storm came up. The heavens were black. The congregation was becoming uneasy and fearful. He told them to remain seated; that God had given him a message and would not let it rain. He asked God to hold the rain till he had delivered the message. I do not know how long he was preaching, hut it was unusually long. God surely held the rain, for when he had finished and the people reached their homes the rain poured down tremendously.
Once when sectarians were framing all manner of falsehoods and sending them broadcast over the country, some of his friends came to him saying, "How can you stand all this?" He paused a moment and then said, "This all came about since I died."
William N. Smith
North Star, Michigan
Once when he was away from home holding meeting, Brother Warner felt a strong impression that he should return home. Some one offered to take him to the train, though the time was short till the train was due. Brother Warner was praying the Lord to hold the train. When they came in sight of the station, the train was there and soon began to move off. He cried aloud, "My God, stop that train for me." The train slowed down. The conductor signaled to back up and stop, and took him on. He expressed his gratefulness to God and to the railroad men and confessed God in it.
He told me that at one time he received a telegram from the West requesting him to come in haste. He went to his room and placed the matter before the Lord. He had no means; but the Lord told him to go, doubting nothing, that all things were possible with Him. He then packed his grip and hastened to the depot. When he arrived there he continued in supplication to God. People began to gather to take the train. All at once his eye caught sight of a man hurrying toward the station. The man came in, and when he saw Brother Warner, rejoiced, and said, "Well, I see you are packed to go." "Yes, I received my orders from God to go on a Western trip." "Well, a man needs money to travel on," the man replied, and then handed him a bunch of money. After he had purchased his ticket he noticed he had plenty of change left to defray all necessary expenses, and he went on his way rejoicing. He arrived at his destination and had success. When he was ready to return and was in a conveyance to go to the depot, an old sister called to him to stop and said, "Here is a little budget; take this." As he was in a hurry he just put it in his pocket. Later, when he opened it, he found one hundred dollars in gold. He came home rejoicing, like the disciples when they were sent out without purse or scrip.
A. J. Shelly
Alma, Michigan
I was much impressed with Brother Warner's remarkable patience under trying circumstances, and when his frail body was racked with pain. On one occasion he and I were on our way to a tent-meeting on the north side of Denver. Being quite late on account of having gone to pray for the sick, we were waiting for a car at a transfer-point, and it seemed to me the car never would arrive. I became anxious and paced up and down the sidewalk (as though in so doing I could hurry up the car), because it was then time for meeting to begin. But to my astonishment, Brother Warner was humming a song and 'making merry in his heart to the Lord.' I said, "Brother Warner, do you ever become impatient?" "Impatient!" he replied, "I have not felt impatient for fifteen years." I believed it then and I believe it now and have ever since that evening. I was striving to overcome anxiety and restlessness because of pain, delay, or opposition, and have succeeded to a great extent in submitting all to the One who is able to cause all things to work together for our good.
John E. Roberts
3830 Stuart Street
Denver, Colorado
A TRUE EXAMPLE OF HUMILITY
One of the most striking examples of true humility that I ever saw was on the day I first met and became acquainted with Brother Warner. With his company of workers, he came to the place where I was expected to preach that day. I was just beginning in the ministry, and had a very high ideal of a minister, to which I was trying hard to attain. When I arrived at this place, the company had already come, and we simply met and were introduced before the Sunday School began. After the exercises were over, and before time to begin preaching, Brother Warner came to me and said he understood that I was expected to preach that day. I answered yes, but not when a man of such reputation and ability as he was present. He insisted that I go ahead, as he was very tired from the labors he had been in and from the trip which they had just made from the West. I answered that I could not preach much yet, and if he would speak only a little while, it would be a treat to the congregation and me. He still insisted that I should preach, and did not seem to care to take the pulpit. I plead with him to do so, and said, "Brother Warner, I simply could not preach in the presence of such a great man as you are." He came up to me and placed his arm around my neck and his head on my shoulder, and said, "God bless you, my brother, I am only one of God's little ones."
This action seemed very strange to me, as I was not acquainted with such a spirit in a man of such reputation; but I kept insisting that he take the pulpit, if not for more than but a few minutes. He then said, "Well, then, if you feel that way, I will; but I need your prayers." He really did look weary, and seemed so frail in body that for a moment I feared I did wrong in urging him so hard.
Well, he began, and I felt that I should be prepared to follow him in case he should stop suddenly, and I would finish the sermon. He preached on the subject of sanctification, and I was so desirous that he might be able to give us a full sermon on this precious subject. Well, he had hardly begun when he seemed to change into another man, and my fears were soon gone that he might have a physical breakdown before the close. That weary look and the appearance of frailty soon disappeared, and the wonderful words that he spoke were full of power and authority. I was soon lost in the glorious truths of the sermon and was unconscious of my surroundings. When he sat down, we were surprised to find that he had preached just three hours, which seemed such a short time to all of us.
The deep impression of the humility of this man of God and the divine power with which he preached had this effect upon my heart: If this is "but one of God's little ones," where will there ever be a place for such an ignorant beginner as I? My ideal of a minister was wholly changed, and it was for some time that I had great difficulty to believe there was a place for me. But having the privilege of sitting at Brother Warner's feet in a series of meetings following that day, I was greatly helped to try to sink into deeper humility, and through the grace of God find my place in the body, the church. This impression of humility has remained with me these years, and has often been a protection when at times there would be presented temptations to self-exaltation.
A WISE ANSWER
In one of the meetings that Brother Warner and his company held in our home neighborhood my older brother had become very much interested in the good singing of this company. He was passionately fond of good singing, and though working hard all day, could not stay away from the evening meetings. But he had become backward in his spiritual life, and knew he was living far below the standard that Brother Warner was holding up. At the close of one of the evening services Brother Warner met my brother and asked him how it was with his soul. The answer was this "I simply confess to you that I don't have enough brains to understand sanctification." These words were spoken in a spirit of resistance and self-justification. Brother Warner looked into his face with a kindly and humble smile and said "God bless you, Brother John, it doesn't take brains."
HOW A VICTORY WAS WON BY PRAYER
While Brother Warner was with us in San Diego, California he gave a series of lessons on the Revelation, and preached hard against the errors of Millennialism. A man who had come amongst us, who was a preacher, and seemed to be accepting the truth very well, but had not received the light on this line, became very much offended at the sermon Brother Warner preached that evening. He seemed to lose his patience altogether, and manifested anger. He came forward to Brother Warner before the congregation had left the hall and in a loud voice and with a face expressing real bitterness said, "The Lord shows me that you are of the devil." He had hardly finished his words when Brother Warner fell on his knees and began to pray, right at the feet of his accuser.
I never before heard such a pitiful prayer, as he poured out his heart to God for this dear man who had brought such a charge against the servant of the Lord. He prayed that the man might he able to see his wrong, that God would reveal the, truth to his understanding, and also bless the people who were standing and looking on at this scene of Christian discourtesy, etc. We were all so shocked at the unusual act that it was hard to know just what to do hut stand there, which we did, until the prayer was over. After finishing the outpouring of his soul in prayer, he quietly rose from his knees, and went away.
The accuser was one of the most surprised people I ever saw. During the prayer he stood as though riveted to the floor, his deathly pale face turned down toward Brother Warner. His hands hung by his side, and he had the appearance of one paralyzed. For a while after Brother Warner had risen from his knees, the man remained fastened to the spot. The congregation began going out, and finally the man also took his hat and left, without one word.
The next night, in the presence of a large audience, this man arose and came forward to Brother Warner, weeping and humbly asking that he might be forgiven for the great offence toward him and the people. He said the Lord had shown him that Brother Warner was right, and he did all that could be expected to right himself with God. From that time he was a strong advocate of the truths of the reformation.
The wisdom of God that was manifested in this moment of sudden surprise, in this critical condition, had a wonderful effect upon the people.
J. W. Byers
618 Palm Avenue
Fresno, California
Very early in my experience in the reformation I was staying at the home of Brother and Sister Fry in Michigan. I had been under accusation for some time. Brother Warner was coming to hold a tabernacle-meeting right near their home. I determined that when he came I would go to him and tell him I was backslidden and ask him to pray with me. I did not go to see him until just before he arose to preach, hence said nothing to him regarding my condition; but I shall never forget that sermon. He arose, and with his eyes filled with tears he broke the bread of life, and my accusations were swept into oblivion, and my soul received a glorious refreshing. It made one think of the saying of Jesus, "Feed my sheep."
At another time, on the old Deerfield, Indiana camp-ground, I followed him to the meeting one morning, and though he was always frail it seemed he was worse that day, so that he almost reeled as he walked. After singing, we all knelt in prayer, and Brother Warner prayed, "Now, Lord, thou hast laid this message upon me; give me strength." He sprang to his feet and leaped all over the floor. He preached for a long time. That made a lasting impression upon me, for I knew he received help directly from heaven.
J. W. Daugherty
Glenville, Nebraska
It would require much more space than is at my disposal to narrate even half of the things that stand out prominently in my memory concerning the life of D. S. Warner and its influence upon me. As his last years were spent in my home community and he was often in the home of my parents, I was intimately acquainted with him from my childhood's earliest recollection until I was past fifteen years of age, when he died. This association being at the impressionable period of my life, multitudes of events were stamped indelibly upon my memory. I shall mention but three of these incidents. The first occurred in the autumn of 1890. An assembly was being held at Geneva Center, a short distance southwest of Lacota, Michigan. One day while a special service for children was being held I sat upon the front seat, listening to the kind, persuasive words of instruction and admonition being given by Brother Warner. At the close of a short talk he asked, "How many of you children want to give your hearts to the Lord?" and then without waiting for a reply he turned to me, and with love and tenderness beaming from his kindly eyes, asked, "Do you not want to get saved now?" Instantly my heart was stirred. I knelt at the altar and Brother Warner came and prayed for me. Laying his hands upon my head, he said, "Lord, give this boy a new heart take away from him the stony heart and give him a heart of flesh." I felt immediately the touch of God. I was born of the Spirit. My young heart was filled with holy joy. Can I ever forget that glad moment? Not so long as I have a being. When time, as we know it, has ended, when old earth itself has grown weary and ceased to go round, and when all the stars of the heavens have forgotten to shine, I shall still praise God for the revelation of divine life that thrilled my soul on that glorious morning. And when I wander over the green fields of the heavenly paradise, or sit down with my Lord in the city of God, I want to renew that association with Brother Warner and thank him for what he did for me.
Brother Warner's preaching always possessed for me an irresistible charm. His doctrinal sermons took hold upon me, especially those devoted to prophetic subjects. I remember distinctly ,one sermon on prophecy, delivered at the camp-ground, near Grand Junction, Michigan. It created a lasting impression upon my mind. Although he preached for four hours and ten minutes, the time did not seem long. I have no doubt that my later interest in doctrinal themes is due, in a great measure at least, to those early impressions, when the Spirit of God stamped the truths of his Word upon my soul.
The third incident that I shall mention was a sermon preached by Brother Warner, just a short time before his death. It was delivered at the camp-ground. The subject was Heaven. So inspiring was this message that it created in me an intense longing to go to that place of light and life--a longing that abides with me still.
F. G. Smith
Anderson, Indiana
I cannot find words to express the help and comfort Brother Warner was to me. I well remember the bitter persecutions he and his company met while here in the South. His pure, holy life and the radical preaching are still living in the South. I remember hearing him preach one night, in a private house, on the oneness of God's people. He was so filled with the Holy Spirit he would leap and praise God. The ceiling overhead was very low. He said the leaps in his soul were higher than the ceiling of that house. I thought every time he left the floor he would hit the ceiling. He and his company were in our house at Spring Hill when the angry mob came after him; but the Lord took care of him.
Mrs. Demaris (Smith) Vance
Meridian, Mississippi
Brother Warner was the man under whose preaching I was convicted for salvation. I had gone fifteen miles to hear him, and when I arrived on the ground I was met by an old friend of mine who had been one of the worst men I have ever known. He said to me, "Praise God, I am glad you are here." This made me feel that after all there might be a chance for me to obtain freedom from the sins that held me. When I went to meeting that night and Brother Warner was pointed out to me, I thought to myself, "I fear there is not much to him." But they sang and Brother Warner began preaching. I never had heard a man preach as he did. After the meeting, several were prayed for and healed. Something came over me as I stood and seemed to go off the ends of my fingers, and I said to myself that this was the first camp-meeting I ever attended that was not ruled by Satan, and that if I could get this religion I could keep out of hell.
One day some one arose and testified that he was still "chawing" tobacco and asked all to pray that he might hold out. Brother Warner remarked that all the saints were testifying for Jesus but this man got up and testified for his tobacco. This was a new kind of talk to many of us. Brother Warner was one of the greatest preachers I ever heard. God was with him in such power as no one else seemed to have in those days.
R. H. Owens
Mt. Pleasant, Louisiana
At a grove-meeting near Antwerp, Ohio, some roughs came to break up the meeting. They divided into two squads, one to pass to the one side of the congregation and the other to the other side. They were prepared to throw eggs, but the leaders of the two squads said, "Don't throw until something is said to justify." They marched to their places and waited. Brother Warner was preaching with wonderful anointing, and shouting. Finally the leader on one side said, "There shall be nothing thrown at that man by my consent. He is preaching the truth; he is a man of God." So they started back. Strange to say, those on the other side did the same, and the two parties met. One said, "Why didn't you throw?" The other said, "Why didn't you?" The leader repeated as before remarked. Finally one big fellow said, "Well, I am going to take one shot, anyway," and he threw an egg right into the congregation. There was a man sitting near the front who was a sectarian; the egg struck him directly in the face and broke over him. He made quite a splutter. At a meeting at Rising Sun, Ohio, Brother Warner was praying in an opening service when some one threw a pack of cards over their heads. After the preaching the people were gathering up the cards. He said, "Amen, gather them up; the devil has surrendered; he has given up his testament."
J. N. Howard
Nappanee, Indiana
It was in the spring of 1891, in southern Indiana, that I first met Brother Warner. I shall never forget the impression he made on me as he stepped into our home. I felt so sensibly the presence of God with the man. He held a two weeks' meeting at our place at that time. A number of souls were saved. Opposition ran high. The meeting was held in the schoolhouse near to a sectarian meeting-house. The preacher who preached at this place tried to get a revival started, but failed. One minister rode all day on a Sunday trying to gather up a mob to drive the brother out of the country; but the people so much enjoyed his preaching and were so won to the man by his gentleness and the clearness of his teaching that they would not rally to the opposers' standard.
I had the pleasure of having him in our home at a later time for about three months. It was at this time that we learned more about his prayer life. My father-in-law once drove him out of the woods where he had gone for prayer. Those prayers, however, and his patience and calmness while being driven out of the woods resulted in my mother-in-law's salvation.
He had a great, sympathetic heart and consequently could comfort the sorrowing as few men could. He preached the funeral of my little boy, and his words of comfort were as a healing balm. He and I roomed together at one time, when he held a ten nights debate with a Seventh-day Adventist preacher. Here he again impressed me with his mighty prayers. After going to our room he would wrestle long and earnestly with God in prayer before retiring. I have always felt much indebted to him for his example in prayer and holy living.
C. E. Orr
Everett, Washington
For about seven years we traveled with Brother Warner in the ministry. Our work was incessant, winter and summer. My intimate association with him impressed me with his deep devotion and sterling Christian character. He was a student of rare ability and an efficient New Testament minister and writer. He was not given to lightness, sentimentality, or idle words. He was sober, serious, and impressive in both words and actions. No one could enjoy his presence and association unless he, like him, would live spiritual and close to God. His whole life and ambition were the spread of the pure gospel and the well-being of souls. He used no empty words in his manner of preaching. His messages were weighty and impressive.
I remember one time in Canada where God's presence was so manifest, in one of his sermons that when he was through preaching the entire congregation to an individual knelt in prayer and sought the Lord for pardon and peace. He was a very busy man. He was up early in the morning and late at night studying, writing, preaching, or helping some needy soul. He was charitable, sympathetic, hospitable, and self-denying. His life was full of constant peace and victory. I can not estimate the value and worth to me of my intimate association with him through those years.
He was evidently chosen of God as a great reformer. While he was meek, mild, and gentle, he was heroic and fearless as a Martin Luther. We shall do well to preserve his words of writing and to remember his example, for we shall thereby be worth more to God and souls.
B. E. Warren
Springfield, Ohio
It is indeed a pleasure to me to contribute a few lines of kindly remembrance of our departed brother D. S. Warner. It was the good pleasure of our heavenly Father that my dear wife and I live with Brother and Sister Warner as members of their household for some fifteen months before he died. I can say with all truth that the gospel he preached he lived. He was always cheerful, kindly, and affectionate in brotherly love to all about him, ready to give wise and fatherly advice and counsel. He was very devoted and much given to prayer in his home. He spent much time in his library with his books and translations of the Scriptures, and did much writing and correspondence, his wife assisting him much. The book Salvation; Present, Perfect; Now or Never, he wrote at this time and he read the manuscript to us before it was printed.
He loved to talk of God's dealings with him; how God led him step by step out of error and confusion and many deep difficulties, how he was violently persecuted by false brethren, how his wife became deceived and separated from him, etc. He would tell of how God revealed to him the sect Babylon of the Revelation and gave him to understand that he must cry out against her and expose her sins; how Babylon loomed up before him as a great black mountain, and that God was taking him as a worm to thresh it, and how he shrunk back at the thought of being thrown against such a seemingly impregnable wall. "God made me see," he said, "that I was nothing but a little mouse, but that he had his hand over me," then he would feel encouraged.
What God accomplished through him some of us know something about, and the results are glorious. Verily he being dead yet speaketh!
Curtis W. Montgomery,
27 Chestnut Street
Marcus Hook, Pennsylvania
In the winter of 1888-89 Brothers George T. Clayton and Charles Koonce came to our community, near Cochran's Mills, Armstrong County, Pennsylvania, preaching what was generally termed "a new doctrine," a turning the world upside down." I was a boy sixteen years old, and the first night of the service walked four miles to the meeting. The first sermon made a deep impression on my mind. During that meeting quite a congregation was raised up for the truth.
A few weeks after the close of this meeting, Brother Warner and company came. They arrived in spring wagons from Blanco, Pennsylvania, a distance of about thirty miles. I was working with my father in the field when they passed down the road, singing "The River of Peace", and shouting, "Halleluiah!" We never witnessed such a scene. Singing and shouting along the public road was characteristic of Brother Warner's company in those days. At night people would rush to their windows to hear the singing, and remark, "The angels are coming."
In this meeting Brother Warner's preaching was all doctrinal. It was all new to us; but I never was able to shake off the convictions that fastened on my heart that these people had the truth. I said I wanted their kind of religion.
In August of 1892 we attended the Perryville, Pennsylvania camp-meeting. I well remember going to the depot from the camp-ground for some baggage, and of meeting on the way Brother Warner and company, who had just arrived. At first they did not recognize me; but when I said, "Praise the Lord," Brother Warner arose in the spring wagon and lifting his hand to heaven shouted at the top of his voice, "Halleluiah! praise our God for eternal salvation!" and all the company joined with loud amens and, "Glory to God!"
At this meeting also Brother Warner's preaching was about all doctrinal. The great fundamental truths of full salvation, holiness, the church, unity. the downfall of sect Babylon, and the command to come out of her, the great apostasy, the last reformation, divine healing, etc., were preached uncompromisingly. I will say, brethren, this kind of preaching confirmed the saints and brought out clearly the holy remnant from the folds of confusion and drew the line in the manner that people knew the way to Zion and rejoiced in their freedom. Sinners were soundly converted under this preaching. They were not born dead. People usually came through at the altar shouting.
It was not unusual during a sermon to see one hundred saints on their feet shouting and Brother Warner leaping and crying, "Fire! fire!" We all got this inspiration, and leaping and shouting were characteristic of most of the early preachers in the pulpit.
In the summer of 1893, wife and I attended the Grand Junction, Michigan camp-meeting. When the train from South Haven stopped at the station I heard a great shout, and looking over near the Trumpet Office saw Brother Warner leaping and shouting, crying at the top of his voice as the saints were getting off the train, "The holy remnant is pouring in." That was a great meeting, the most powerful I ever attended. Miracles were wrought and devils "crying with a loud voice, came out of many that were possessed with them."
Brother Warner impressed me as a man of deep piety and spirituality. He was very humble and tender-hearted. Many were the warm-hearted counsels and admonitions he gave to the younger ministers, and these were delivered in tears, with a, "God bless you, my dear brother." He was a very able man in the Scriptures, and one of the deepest in prophecies I have ever heard. He was slow to see the faults of others; but able to expose wrong-doing when he clearly discerned it in any one. He was very definite and radical in his preaching, and eternity alone will reveal what he suffered because of his bold defense of what he believed to be the truth. We who knew him best would never question his sincerity. He was a reformer in every sense of the term. The influences of his life and ministry will sweep onward till time shall end. The principles he advocated are more and more being recognized by spiritual people everywhere, and the fires of reformation are destined to sweep the earth until
We girdle the globe with salvation,
And holiness unto the Lord;
Till light shall illumine each nation,
The light from the lamp of his word.
H. M. Riggle
Akron, Indiana
As a young worker in Brother Warner's company for a few months I was deeply impressed with his kindness, courtesy, and humility. He often exhorted the young ministers and workers to seek humility of heart, and often related an incident of his personal experience in talking with the Lord, when the Lord said to him, "Be humble, my child, be humble."
He had a great burden for the gathering of God's people, the prosperity of Zion, and the salvation of the lost. To this end he dedicated his time, talents, and means, and was so self-denying that he would share his last penny with those in need. He said, when he finished a Bible subject or outline for a sermon, "There's the skeleton, I'll trust the Lord to put the meat on it." I heard him say, "Satan puts us in his sieve that he may sift all the good out of us God puts us in his sieve that he may sift all the bad out of us."
Brother Warner was a son of thunder in delivering truth against false religions, but as wise as a serpent and as harmless as a dove in dealing with the erring ones.
Nora Hunter
San Diego, California
I also wish to bear personal testimony of Brother Warner. The first time I met him was on April 7, 1888 at our family home, near Albany, Illinois. He with his company were on their return from their Western tour. I had been teaching school in Iowa during the previous winter and had also engaged myself for the spring term, but had a two weeks intermission for vacation, which I decided to spend at my home. How wonderful that the course of life may turn on a mere decision, which at the time may seem to involve no particular consequence. It was during that two weeks interval that I met Brother Warner and came in contact with the reformation movement.
On the date mentioned, the little company of evangelists arrived at our house. They were brought thither by Brothers Knight and Daniels from the former's home, near Fulton, where they had arrived the day before. My father and I had gone to engage a schoolhouse for meeting. When we returned two men were standing at our front gate conversing, one of whom was Brother Warner. My father made himself acquainted and then introduced me, informing Brother Warner that I had been converted only a short time before. As he reached to shake my hand he said, so appreciatingly, "Well, that's good news," and there beamed out of those soft blue eyes a Christian love and tenderness that made a lasting impression on me. That he should so rejoice in spirit at the knowledge of my conversion seemed to give me a spiritual uplift and to place my appreciation of things spiritual on a higher level. It seemed that during that week when Brother Warner and company were with us our home was a heavenly paradise. I regard that week as the brightest and most full of destiny to me in all my life's history. There was something about the happy, victorious spirit of those dear saints that exalted Christianity in my conception and made it a thing very much to be desired. The impression made upon my young heart at that time can never be erased.
My mother had been reading The Trumpet and had formed the opinion of Brother Warner that he was a great and wonderful man. So when she met him she exclaimed, "And is this Brother Warner!" His reply was, "Yes, and he is the least man you ever saw."
In the meeting that followed he instructed me in my consecration for sanctification. As I arose, ready to venture on God's promise, he discerned my faith and broke the way before me by claiming the promise with me.
When my mother died in July 1894, I was engaged in the publishing work at Grand Junction. The telegram notifying me of her death said also, "Bring Brother Warner." This message was received late in the evening, and Brother Warner had retired. I went to his room and informed him of the request. He was feeling bad physically and wondered if Brother ---- could not go instead. I knew that no other person available could give the satisfaction Brother Warner could, and so expressed myself to him. Finally he consented. Although he was weak and tired he arose from his bed and prepared to go. It was never in him to shirk what might be interpreted as duty. He believed in taking the Lord for his sufficiency, and the Lord did not disappoint him. We had to take a night train for Chicago, and before we reached the city he said he felt stronger than when he started, and this in spite of his having been deprived of rest. He preached the funeral discourse, wrote quite a lengthy obituary and poem, and even responded to a request to preach in an evening service. It was wonderful how he could take God for his strength and his every need. His life seemed to be a constant miracle.
I have traveled with him, slept with him, taken part in his meetings, and have been associated with him in editorial work, and thus have known him at close range and he was always God-fearing, humble, loving, devoted, full of faith, and possessed of singleness of heart, to a degree rarely known among men. His life, so exemplary, was an object lesson of Christian attainment and of what God can do for and through weak humanity. It was an inspiration to feel the touch of his Christian spirit. And thus we exalt, not the man--for apart from the divine influence that ruled his life he would have been very commonplace--but we exalt the God who can take such humble instrumentality and by a transformation of being use it to accomplish his work in the earth. It is the Christ in man that we are to exalt and to follow.
The body of D. S. Warner lies, near where it fell, in a rather lonely spot some distance off the thoroughfare, in the sparsely-wooded edge of the camp-ground near Grand Junction, Michigan. This place, where are situated a few other graves and where the proximity to the empty cottages on the camp-ground gives an aspect of desertion, is a place for reflection. Here nature undisturbed, through the succession of bursting buds of spring, refreshing dews of summer, sighing breezes and gently falling leaves of autumn, arid rigorous storms of winter covering all with a shroud of snow, is heard to speak silently but eloquently of the brief cycle of life on this earth, of the grave as our last resting-place, and of the fact that "here we have no continuing city, but we seek one to come." One thinks, when standing beside this grave, of the wonderful accomplishment crowded into that short career, and of the reward of a life of faithful service. And one feels springing from the depths of the heart this choice, that come what may of toil and self-sacrifice in the Christian service, come what may of reproach and persecution for Christ's sake, "let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his."
End of the original book
Foot note:
It was characteristic of Brother Warner to give ready and wise response and oftentimes to answer an objector on his own ground or in his own terms. It is related that in a certain meeting after he had preached on holiness an opposer arouse and vociferously denounced the doctrine, saying in his closing remarks, "I pray God to scatter this old holiness doctrine to the four winds of the earth." Immediately Brother Warner responded with a shout of "AMEN!" The effect was terrific and the opposition was confounded.
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Friday, March 2, 2012
Life And Labors Of D. S. WARNER PT4
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