BY OLIVER JACQUES
�And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour
out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions: and also
upon the servants and upon the handmaids in those days will I pour out my spirit�
(Joel 2:28, 29).
ATELINE: Rochester, New York,
1853: It is 2:00 in the morning, and a young man, working by the light of a
simple oil lamp, is daubing ink on an inking board.
When the right amount of ink is evenly applied by a roller
to a heavy tray of type, the wooden tray or galley is positioned beneath a cumbersome
press that will bring pressure down on the type. Before the contraption moves,
a sheet of paper is laid over the galley. The lever is then firmly brought down,
and hundreds of sharp black characters spring to life on the vellum sheet.
The printer straightens his back, rubs the cold out of his
fingers, and prepares to work with another galley, heavy with type. But before
doing so, he hands the galley proof to 14-year-old Warren Bacheller. Known as
a printer�s devil by the pressmen, the apprentice runs through the dark snow-covered
streets with a folder of proof sheets. Reaching the big house on Mount Hope
Road where he and his fellow workers sleep and eat, he feels his way up the
dim unheated stairway and pushes the folder under a closed door. James and Ellen
White, with sons Henry and Edson, are asleep. Standing outside the Whites� door,
he detects the acrid scent of a burned-out wood fire. It is only a memory of
warmth, but it will have to do. An ice-cold bed awaits him.
Early Risers
The Whites will not sleep late.� Ellen does much of her
writing by candlelight before the dawn, while James does his best work between
9:00 and 12:00 a.m; both are early risers. They carefully read the galley proofs,
correcting phrases, adjusting words, before joining other members of their staff
for breakfast and morning worship. After devotions they receive the additional
galley proofs produced by Luman Masten, the faithful printer, before he turned
in at 3:00 a.m.
James hands the precious galley sheets to Annie Smith (right), a
young editorial assistant, who checks them for typographical or grammatical
errors. If she sees no significant changes that require consultation, she, in
turn, gives them to young Bacheller or his fellow apprentice, Fletcher Byington.
The copy is hurried to the pressmen for correcting. Typesetters, used to reading
backwards, set the small metal letters in reverse order.
Edited galleys keep the handpress clacking for three days,
each tray of type producing four pages of the Advent Review and Sabbath Herald.
Two thousand copies emerge from the handpress for each issue. But the job is
far from finished. While typesetters, assisted by the two apprentices, compose
the next issue, each of the 2,000 copies must be folded, stitched, and trimmed.
In a back room of the large house on Mount Hope Road, John
Loughborough punches holes for the sewing,
then passes the pages over to George Amadon, who stitches them together. Uriah
Smith trims the edges with his penknife, for the magazine owns no paper cutter.
Years later Smith would recall, �We blistered our hands in the operation, and
often, the tracts in form were not half so true and square as the doctrines
they taught.�
What motivates these young adults? What keeps them working
day and night in a poorly equipped operation that pays virtually no wages? If
you were to ask them, they might tell you of the vision given one of their number.
Before the press ever began to �clank,� before James White produced the first
copy of Present Truth in 1849, Ellen White had seen the Advent truths reaching
to distant parts of the globe.
The thought that the little press at Rochester might have
a worldwide impact seems preposterous to those outside the team. But these young
adults have a dream�or more accurately, it has them! We can almost hear the
young Ellen White as she leads in morning prayers, her voice warm and gentle,
but firm. �It was in a vision five years ago that I saw it,� she says slowly.
�I was shown that the message �as streams of light� would go clear around the
world.�
The female members of the staff help to address each publication.
This is also done by hand, using sharpened quills or simple ink nibs. The completed
copies are tied in bundles and, usually on Thursday, packed into a cart or wheelbarrow
for transit to the post office. There is no shortage of work, no underemployment.
Sometimes the women get more than their share of the work. But complaints are
few: courage is high.
While the Review and Herald is their principal product,
the workers at Rochester also publish the Youth�s Instructor, hymnals,
and a variety of tracts presenting the distinctive beliefs of Sabbathkeeping
Adventists. After three years of operation the self-supporting company offers
some 30 publications for sale to the public.
The Whites also maintain a lively correspondence with believers
from Maine to Iowa as well as with the Review�s contributing authors, scattered
nearly as far. In addition there are weekly speaking appointments in upstate
New York, some of them requiring a day�s travel by carriage.
Financing the publishing work is a constant problem. The
Review and Herald is sent free of charge to all who request it, and depends
on donations from its readers. One week, however, the press is out of paper,
and there is no money to receive the COD order at the post office. James White
is on the verge of panic. Without paper, the entire business will shut down.
Quietly Ellen retrieves a sock from her kitchen. Coins to pay the large bill
are poured out on the table.
�Where did you get it?� James asks in amazement.
�Saving for emergencies,� she explains with a smile. Week
after week she has saved a small amount from the group�s meager food allowance.
James and Ellen are at the nerve center of the ceaseless
activity. In vivid visions Ellen is instructed that James must �write, write,
write!� But a difficult snag develops. Joseph Bates, the respected senior among
the Sabbath-keepers, advises against regular weekly or monthly periodicals.
The older man maintains that individual leaflets, each comprehensively presenting
a doctrine or issue, are preferable. The plan is flexible and economically feasible:
the counsel makes sense. But Bates�s letter discourages James. He is ready to
quit, but Ellen urges him on. Though the magazine is mailed twice a month now,
she says, she has been shown that it must become a weekly publication. Not less,
but more!
�But we have insufficient funds now,� James protests, �and
difficulties enough meeting deadlines!�
�Yes,� she says, �but I was shown that the Review should
be received each week. People are asking for it. Send it out! Readers will contribute
the necessary funds.�
James is reassured, and trusting in the authenticity of
the guidance given to his wife, he orders weekly production. The required funds
do come in, enough to pay the bills.
And so the workers press on, a day at a time, week by week,
month by month. Their compensation? A place to sleep, and simple food to eat.
But morale is good. Like Isaiah they are publishing the good news: �Thy God
reigneth.�
Taking to the Road
Operations are complicated when the Whites embark on preaching
tours so vital to the struggling movement. In the spring they go westward, conducting
Sabbath conferences in several states. In the autumn, after farmers have harvested
their crops, they travel east and north into New England and Canada. Their rickety
carriage is drawn by Charlie, their aging but faithful horse.
Roads are unpaved; long sections consist of logs laid crosswise,
imposing constant jolts to passengers. They frequently bump through miles of
deep woods, where the darkened roadways seem like endless tunnels. There are
no highways, no freeways, in the territory they traverse. Only a network of
farm roads threads through the countryside. As they pass by orchards, Charlie
pauses to enjoy a ripe apple that hangs over the road.
Sore from the constant jarring, they stop for lunch where
there is grass for the old horse. James writes for the Review or Youth�s
Instructor, his top hat or lunch box serving as desk. Ellen comforts a baby,
often sick, who rests only while in her arms. There are no conveniences, but
they are happy. They have a vision. They are driven by a dream.
James has published their travel itinerary in the Review.
They expect and usually find companies of Adventist believers waiting for them.
After several days of preaching, exhortation, and reproof in each locale, they
drive to the next town on the published schedule. Two months and 2,000 miles
later, old Charlie draws them back to Rochester and home. Members of the publishing
staff, eager for news of the trip, greet them with joy.
While away, James and Ellen have sent editorials and articles
by mail for publication. Annie Smith has coordinated the editorial production
in their absence, literally keeping the operation alive. Her contributions have
been critical. But each member of the Review family is vital to the success
of this volunteer, self-supporting venture.
Meet the Team
Imagine James White, editor and publisher, introducing the
team around him. He says, �Well, you know me. I am 32, and my wife, Ellen, is
26. Here are our children, Henry, 6, and Edson, 4. Standing there with them
is Clarissa Bonfoey. She has taken faithful care of Edson. She is 32. Next to
her is Annie Smith, age 25. She fills my place when I am away and is indispensable
all the time. Her brother, Uriah, 21, is a budding author who helps with any
kind of work that needs to be done.
�Then we have several young folks who are learning the printing
business from Mr. Masten. George Amadon is 21, and Oswald Stowell is 25. Fletcher
Byington is 20 and Warren Bacheller is 14.
�Jennie Frazier is our cook. We sample her product three
times a day. Next Luman Masten, our printer, who is 24.
�Here are two hardworking folks who came with us from Saratoga
Springs, Stephen and Sarah Belden, age 24 and 20, respectively. Stephen helps
me with the business angle of the work, while Sarah, Ellen�s sister, takes care
of the household, with its continual round of cleaning, mending, washing, and
sewing.
�Finally, we have two new additions. These are Nathaniel
and Anna White, my brother and sister. Nathaniel is 22, and Anna, 25. . . .
�John Loughborough and his wife live here in Rochester.
When he isn�t out preaching, he comes around and gives us a hand in the pressroom.
He is 21.
�John Andrews, one of our competent writers, also drops
by at times for a rest. But most of the time he�s in the field preaching also.
He is 24. . . . Only three of us are over 30. Our average age is only 23, and
that isn�t counting the children!�*
But the hardworking young Review and Herald team
of which James is so proud will be sorely tested. Annie Smith grows gravely
ill with tuberculosis, and soon dies. Nathaniel, James�s brother, and Anna,
his sister, also succumb to the deadly disease as James himself battles its
symptoms. Anna White and Annie Smith have been linchpins of the operation: Anna
has been editing the Youth�s Instructor; Annie has kept the weekly Review
coming off the press. Their loss and that of Nathaniel White threaten to
cripple the publishing effort.
If the work is going to continue to grow, someone must be
found to serve as editorial assistant to James White. Uriah, Annie�s young brother,
is selected. Like his sister, Uriah is a gifted writer and poet; unlike Annie,
whose hymns continue to be sung by modern Seventh-day Adventists, Uriah�s poetry
is rarely set to music: one poem is 35,000 words in length! Convinced of the
doctrinal if not the musical value of the piece, James White orders that it
be printed in successive weekly editions of the Review.
Modern historians of the Adventist movement assert that the
young volunteers who labored so creatively and tirelessly at Rochester for three
years are largely responsible for the coalescing of believers who later organized
the Seventh-day Adventist Church. Though probably unaware of the full impact
of their labors, they worked with rare diligence and at great personal sacrifice.
Their effort is singularly responsible for maintaining widespread and focused
interest in Christ�s second coming as well as introducing the distinctive Bible
truths now familiar to Adventists.
Limited by primitive, inadequate equipment and facilities,
the Rochester company gave stability and form to the publishing work, which,
in turn, supported the preaching of the Adventist message by the Whites, Joseph
Bates, John Loughborough, John Andrews, and others. This company of humble,
hardworking young adults brought unity and strength to what had been a fragmented
and scattered movement. Often bone-tired and in need of sleep, they maintained
demanding production schedules. �The message,� they insisted, �must go forward!�
Untrained but Undeterred
From a human standpoint, neither James nor Ellen White was
qualified for the extraordinary role they played. Nevertheless, James, with
approximately 10 months� formal education, was a respected leader, a gifted
and popular preacher, as well as an effective writer and editor. Ellen had not
completed the third grade, and was at best a frail young woman, yet she wrote
prodigiously, and when speaking, even in the open and without am-plification,
held the attention of hundreds and even thousands of listeners. Both suffered
from ill health and were burdened with family needs and problems. They pressed
forward without sponsorship as self-supporting workers.
Why did they and their colleagues do it? How did the little
group at Rochester accomplish so much? What moved them to work harmoniously
10, 12, even 18 hours a day as self-supporting volunteers under conditions that
most Adventists, then and now, would deem unacceptable?
They came from different faith backgrounds, different ways
of reading Scripture, different environments. They were young, poor, and for
the most part not formally educated. Several were terminally ill.
They were not linked to any church organization, nor did
they enjoy warm relationships with existing denominations. They had no church
or corporate name. By today�s management standards, they were marked for chaos
and failure. But they joined together in an enterprise to tell to the world
the cosmic concepts and convictions that had excited their thinking and warmed
their hearts. Inspired by a divine vision, they found an insistent energy in
the dream that the words they wrote and set in type would go like streams of
light around the world. Like Abraham, they had no abiding city here, for they
�looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God.�
Today the Review they labored over (and that you are enjoying)
is read by hundreds of thousands around the world. Printed in five major world
languages, its articles are translated into dozens of additional dialects and
reprinted around the globe. The magazines and tracts they initiated have won
tens of thousands to faith in the second coming of Jesus and the beauty of the
Sabbath truth. The publishing effort they launched with muscle power, calluses,
and tears now produces millions of pieces of gospel literature each year. The
dream of truth going �like streams of light . . . clear round the world� has
been realized on a scale that most of them could scarcely have imagined.
Like the psalmist, they found their deepest and most lasting
significance in the hastening of that kingdom they sought with all their passion.
Driven by a dream of bringing glory to Jesus, their sweat and their suffering
and their tears became their abiding prayer:� �Not unto us, O Lord, not unto
us, but unto thy name give glory.�
*Virgil Robinson, James White (Washington, D.C.:
Review and Herald Pub. Assn., 1976), pp. 91, 92.
_________________________
Oliver Jacques is a retired pastor and teacher, and a great-grandson
of James and Ellen White.