With the Napier camp meeting over, Ellen White and her party moved on to Wellington, at the southern tip of North Island, New Zealand. Wellington was the headquarters of the New Zealand Conference--if a book depository and the president's residence together could be called a headquarters. M. C. Israel served as president. The trip by train would take them through Palmerston North, and it seemed convenient to stop over there for a long weekend.
Ellen White, accompanied by W. C. White and Emily Campbell, left Napier Thursday morning, April 13. George and Mrs. Starr were to follow the next day. Of the five-hour train trip she wrote:
I rode with Emily and Willie in the second-class cars for the first time since my severe illness. We could make me a comfortable seat with cushions, and I think I did not suffer any more in the second class than I should in the first, and we would have to pay one pound, one shilling extra for us three if we rode in first class. We left Napier at half past eleven o'clock and arrived at Palmerston at half past four.--Manuscript 79, 1893.
For the first two or three hours of the trip they traversed rich farming country dotted with villages. Nearer Palmerston North the land was level with much heavy timber here and there and large fertile pastures. It reminded Ellen White of the newer portions of Michigan, Canada, and New York State in the 1850s. Evangelistic meetings had been held at Palmerston four years earlier, but the town had doubled in population, and further work was due. She and Emily were invited to stay with a couple named McOlivors, local church members. Sabbath morning Elder Starr spoke in the little hired hall and Ellen White in the afternoon. She reports in her diary that "I ... led out with words of comfort and encouragement for the little few who had met together to worship God."
Noting that a large part of the audience were children and youth, she adapted her remarks accordingly. Of this she says:
I addressed words to them, to instruct and help them in doing right, in loving the Lord Jesus in the early years of their life. "Those that seek me early shall find me." Proverbs 8:17. I think the lambs of the flock are left or passed over with but little effort to have them understand they may give their hearts and lives to Jesus in their childhood and youth. The simplicity of the lessons of Christ could be understood by children.--Ibid.
Sunday, services were held in the Theater Royal. She reports that there was a good congregation who listened attentively as she presented before them the love of Christ, speaking from 1 John 3:1-4.
Monday morning, she was up at three to get ready to catch the six-thirty train to Wellington. She was accompanied by W. C. White, Emily Campbell, and M. C. Israel. They traveled through what seemed to be newly developed country, wooded land and burned-over land, and, as they neared Wellington, sections abounding in tree ferns. At Wellington they were driven to what was to be their home for the winter months. It was now mid-June, and the weather was turning cold.
As she looked back since leaving Australia, she wrote:
It is now three months since we left Melbourne. We have traveled about twenty-five hundred miles by sea and by land, and I have written over three hundred pages of letter paper. I have spoken to the people forty-one times, and am gaining in health and strength, for which I render thanksgiving and praise to God every day, and in the night season.--The Review and Herald, June 13, 1893.
She had occasion to rejoice, for while she had suffered so painfully through most of 1892 she could now travel, speak, and write. Yet she confided, "Infirmities are still my companions by night and day." She was thankful that the Lord gave her grace to bear the pain. She explained:
Sometimes when I feel unable to fill my appointments, I say, In faith I will place myself in position. I will go to the meeting, and stand upon my feet, although feeling unable to say a word; and whenever I have done this, I have had strength given me to rise above all infirmities, and to bear the message the Lord has given me for the people.--Ibid.
Her Wellington Home
Her temporary home in New Zealand was the mission building secured for use primarily as a book depository. Mrs. M. H. Tuxford carried the responsibility of management, which was no small task considering that it served all of New Zealand. Ellen White described her as "a businesswoman and capable, pleasant, and active" (Manuscript 80, 1893). One room of the building was devoted to the book depository, Mrs. Tuxford resided in another, and three rooms were made available to Ellen White and Emily Campbell.
It was planned that she would reside there for a month or six weeks, but it turned out to be the four months of the winter.
It was Tuesday, April 18, when they moved in, and she closed her diary entry for that day with the words: "Now comes the taxing part of our work--preparing not only the American mail, which closes Thursday, but mail for Melbourne, which leaves every week."--Ibid.
As there was no church in Wellington, the whole worker group would drive six miles to Petone for Sabbath services. Ellen White tells of how it worked out:
Last night the stars shone like diamonds in the heavens, but this morning is cloudy and rainy. Elder Israel, W. C. White, and Sister Brown go to Petone about nine o'clock. Sister Tuxford, Sister Israel, and I go this afternoon, as soon as we shall take an early dinner. But rain, rain, rain is the order of the day.... Brother Simpson, who bears the responsibilities of the meetings when he is at home, said to Willie, "I do not think your mother will come." Willie said, "We will see. It would be an exceptional occurrence for my mother to fail to meet her appointments." ...
When we drove up to the place of meeting, there were about one dozen in all assembled, but when that carriage drove through the village and it was known I had come, the house was well filled, and ... best of all, we had the heavenly Guest. The Lord gave me words to speak to the people. John 14. I was surprised myself at the words given me.--Ibid.
The reason for her surprise was that she had intended to speak on a different topic, but when she stood to speak, that subject was taken from her mind and another pressed itself forcibly upon her.
Difficulties in Advancing the Message in New Zealand
The workers in Wellington, both those long in the field and the newcomers, took a good look at the state of the cause and the prospects for the future. In Wellington there was no tangible work. D. M. Canright's books--as well as the activities of some of the church members, which were less than honorable but were quite widely known--had closed the eyes and ears of those who should hear and respond. A consistent opposition of Protestant ministers also had a strong influence.
The Adventist leaders studied the map of New Zealand and could see that "only a little portion of it has yet heard the proclamation of the truth. The very best and more favorable fields have not yet been entered."--Ibid. They felt the dire need of experienced workers. Wrote Ellen White:
A deep, deep sleep seems to be upon the people. Pleasure-loving, something new to attract the mind, something startling, and a dish of fables from the pulpit are relished, but the truth that would arouse and disturb their self-complacency is the very thing they do not want. The people seem encased, as though nothing can penetrate the armor of self-deception and stolid indifference.
Our cry is to God for help, for strength and power. He alone can work upon the hearts of the people of Wellington. Elder Daniells has had good congregations, but no souls have been brought into the truth. Elder Israel has been here much of the time for four years, but nothing has been successful to create an interest. The Great Controversy and other books have been taken in this city, yet no souls have been added as the result. What can be done? O Lord, lead and guide!--Ibid.
Determined to make a break, the workers decided to rent the skating rink, which would seat about a thousand, for evangelistic meetings. Even though the rent seemed high, they would go forward in the name of the Lord and do something. At three o'clock Sunday afternoon, April 30, Ellen White spoke there on temperance to a good audience. She reported deep interest on the part of the hearers. In the evening Starr addressed an audience of about the same size on the inspiration of the Scriptures. An interest was created, and meetings continued for some time in the skating rink on Sabbath and Sunday and some evenings.
Writing on the Life of Christ
Ever since crossing the Pacific nearly two years earlier, Ellen White had been watching for an opportunity to write on Christ's life. Now in the winter months in New Zealand, when travel would be somewhat curtailed, she determined to push the work forward as her strength and her program would allow. Letters she should have answered remained unanswered, in some cases, for months, as she tried to make room for work on her book. A diary entry for May 19 reads: "Before breakfast, wrote seven pages on the life of Christ." The next Tuesday she wrote in her diary: "It is cloudy and raining this morning. I have been writing upon the life of Christ since four o'clock." She added a prayer, "Oh, that the Holy Spirit may rest and abide upon me, that my pen may trace the words which will communicate to others the light which the Lord has been pleased in His great mercy and love to give me."--Ibid.
In mid-June W. C. White, writing for the Bible Echo, reported on his mother's activities:
Mrs. E. G. White was enduring the damp and windy weather of Wellington very well, and having found at the Tract Society Depository a quiet and comfortable place to reside, is engaged in writing on some of the unfinished chapters of her forthcoming "Life of Christ." At the close of the camp meeting in Napier, she felt a great desire to attend another general meeting in New Zealand. The appointment of the next annual conference early in the season may enable her, if she can endure the dampness of the climate, to remain and attend this meeting, before the next annual conference and first camp meeting in Australia--July 1, 1893.
From time to time through the winter--June, July, and August--she mentions, in her letters and her diary, writing on the life of Christ.
Thursday, June 15, 1893:
I do not flatter myself that very much progress can be made on the life of Christ. I am writing on it as fast as I possibly can.... The days are short and are gone before we really know it.--Letter 131, 1893.
Monday, June 19:
I am trying to write on the life of Christ, but I am obliged to change my position quite often to relieve the spine and the right hip. Sister Tuxford and I had our season of worship alone--only two to claim the promise.--Manuscript 81, 1893.
Thursday, June 29:
This morning there was some frost. I have a fire in my room today. Have not had a fire before for several days. Am writing on life of Christ.
We have secured a wheelchair, that I can be wheeled in the open air when I cannot ride in carriage.--Ibid.
Friday, July 7:
I wrote some today. Pain is making me very nervous, but I keep this to myself.... Letters are constantly coming for an answer, and should I write to the many that I desire, I should not find any time to write on the life of Christ.--Ibid.
An Agonizing Letter to Edson
Letters from James Edson White brought little comfort to his mother. While she was in New Zealand, he was in Chicago in the printing business, and quite involved in debt, which was not unusual for him. In one letter he stated, "I am not at all religiously inclined." There had been times when, with a heart dedicated to God, he had served in the Lord's work--Sabbath school, hymn book preparation, publishing, et cetera. Now his letter, with these words, nearly crushed her. Her response opened:
Dear Son Edson,
Why should you express yourself as you have done? Why use such firm language? Why do you have any satisfaction in this selfish independence? If you were a man unacquainted with truth, I could address you in a different way, approach you by presenting the truth in all its beauty and attractive loveliness, but this would not move you. The answer would be, "I knew all that before. I am not as ignorant as you suppose."
She wrote to him of the "qualities of character" that he might have displayed and of how different it would have been if he had "surrendered to God and brought Christ and His instructions into" his business. Then she laid her pen down until the next day. When she picked it up again to continue the message, she wrote:
June 21:
I awoke quarter past one o'clock full of terror. I had a scene presented before me. You and four other young men were upon the beach. You all seemed too careless--unconcerned, yet in great danger. Many had collected on the beach to observe your movements, and this seemed to make you more determined and venturesome.
The waves were rolling up nearer and still nearer and then would roll back with a sullen roar. Gestures and warnings were given by the anxious ones looking on, but in answer to all their warnings you were more presumptuous.
Someone placed his hand on my shoulder. "Did you know that is your son Edson? He cannot hear your voice, but he can see your motions. Tell him to come at once. He will not disobey his mother."
I reached out my hands. I did all I could do to warn. I cried with all the power of voice, "You have not a moment to lose! The undertow! The undertow!" I knew that once you were in the power of the treacherous undertow no human power could avail.
A strong rope was brought and fastened securely around the body of a strong young man who ventured to risk his own life to save you. You seemed to be making light of the whole performance. I saw the merciless undertow embrace you, and you were battling with the waves. I awoke as I heard a fearful shriek from you. I prayed most earnestly in your behalf and arose and am writing these lines.
The undertow! I have had opportunity to watch the movements of the waves as I have often visited Island Bay, four miles from Wellington. In Napier, I had a chance to see its more powerful movements.
Continuing the letter, she told of having a few weeks before read the experience of four young men, "experts in the water" who were caught in the undertow. "Only one was saved," she wrote, "and not by his own energies."
As she continued her letter, which filled ten double-spaced typewritten pages, she contemplated, "The undertow--what does it represent? It represents the power of Satan and a set, independent, stubborn will of your own which has reached even against God. You have not preserved a surrender to God."
Then in graphic terms she pictured changes that had come over a period of a few years:
You are no more a child. I would that you were. I would cradle you in my arms, watch over you as I have done. But you are a man grown. You have taken the molding of your character out of the hands of your mother, out of the hands of God, and are placing defective, rotten timbers in the building. Evil influences are accepted; the good and saving influences refused.
You would almost fail to recognize yourself should your present picture of character be presented by the side of the former one when you tried to walk in the fear of God. And you ... coolly state you will not change your course--that is, as I understand it, come into submission to God--until your debts are paid and you have a reliable competency.
Your religious history need not have been vacillating, but firm and true; but you would be independent and take your own course. You have been strong one hour, vacillating the next. I am now determined to press upon your notice and make you hear: "This is the undertow."
"Several times has the Lord heard and answered prayer in your behalf and raised you up when your case was apparently hopeless," she wrote, referring to some of his childhood experiences. "And now I see that invisible foe, lurking, alluring and deceiving your soul to your ruin. I know your only hope is to cling to God and to your mother and brother." The tearful mother closed her letter with the words:
I cannot save you; God alone can save you. But work, while Jesus invites you, in harmony with God. Mother.--Letter 123, 1893.
The letter, written in such anguish, was attended by the winning and softening influence of the Spirit of God; Edson, yielding his hard heart, experienced a reconversion. His immediate response and his experience of the next two or three weeks is not recorded in the files, but on August 10, 1893, he wrote to his mother:
I have surrendered fully and completely, and never enjoyed life before as I am [enjoying it] now. I have for years been under a strain, with so much to accomplish, and it has stood right in my way. Now, I have left it all with my Saviour, and the burden does not bear me down any longer. I have no desire for the amusements and pleasures that made up the sum of my enjoyments before, but have an enjoyment in the meetings with the people of God such as I never had before.
As to his future, he declared he wanted to connect with the work of the church in some way. Later in the month he wrote his mother: "I have been thinking of going down into Tennessee to work among the colored people.... I shall go into the work somewhere in the spring.... I still hope and trust in God, and am sure He will care for me. I have proved my own way and it is a poor way. I now want God's way, and I know it will be a good way."
His mother's call and beckoning, heard and seen above the roar of the tumbling ocean waves, had been heeded. The answer--which could not come then to Ellen White in the vivid representation in the hours of the night, for only Edson could determine the response--came shortly in joyous reality. Through the next decade Ellen White thrilled to Edson's vivid reports of God's blessings as he pioneered the work among the blacks in the great Southland of the United States.
Dental Problems
Ellen White's teeth were causing her a good deal of trouble. Some were abscessing, and she concluded it was time to get rid of them. She had only eight left, and she wrote to Dr. Caro, the dentist in whose home she had stayed in Napier, inquiring whether she could not come down to Wellington and have them pulled out. They settled on the date, Wednesday, July 5.
That Wednesday morning after breakfast she wrote to her son William, "Sister Caro is here; leaves at half past one o'clock. You know what will take place. I am not afraid. My teeth are troubling me a little too much for comfort."--Letter 132, 1893.
At the end of the day she told the story in her diary:
Sister Caro came in the night; is in the house. I met her in the morning at the breakfast table. She said, "Are you sorry to see me?" I answered, "I am pleased to meet Sister Caro, certainly. Not so certain whether I am pleased to meet Mrs. Dr. Caro, dentist."
At ten o'clock I was in the chair, and in a short time eight teeth were drawn. I was glad the job was over. I did not wince or groan.... I had asked the Lord to strengthen me and give me grace to endure the painful process, and I know the Lord heard my prayer.
After the teeth were extracted, Sister Caro shook like an aspen leaf. Her hands were shaking, and she was suffering pain of body. She had felt sick, she said, on the cars during her ten hours' ride. She dreaded to give pain to Sister White.... But she knew she must perform the operation, and went through with it.--Manuscript 81, 1893.
Ellen White took nothing to deaden the pain, for she suffered adverse aftereffects of such medication.
Then the patient turned attendant. She led Dr. Caro to a comfortable chair, and found something to refresh her. As Ellen White looked ahead, she could see that she would have to give up public work for a while, perhaps for two months, when Dr. Caro would fit her for a new set of teeth. She pushed ahead with her writing.