Publishing Again
101
In Rochester, New York
In April, 1852, we moved to Rochester, New York, under most
discouraging circumstances. At every step we were obliged to advance
by faith. We were still crippled by poverty, and compelled to exercise
the most rigid economy and self-denial. I will give a brief extract from
a letter to Brother Howland’s family, dated April 16, 1852:
“We are just getting settled in Rochester. We have rented an old
house for one hundred and seventy-five dollars a year. We have the
press in the house. Were it not for this, we should have to pay fifty
dollars a year for office room. You would smile could you look in
upon us and see our furniture. We have bought two old bedsteads
for twenty-five cents each. My husband brought me home six old
chairs, no two of them alike, for which he paid one dollar, and soon
he presented me with four more old chairs without any seating, for
which he paid sixty-two cents. The frames are strong, and I have been
seating them with drilling. Butter is so high that we do not purchase it,
[144]
[145]
neither can we afford potatoes. We use sauce in the place of butter, and
turnips for potatoes. Our first meals were taken on a fireboard placed
upon two empty flour barrels. We are willing to endure privations if
the work of God can be advanced. We believe the Lord’s hand was in
our coming to this place. There is a large field for labor, and but few
laborers. Last Sabbath our meeting was excellent. The Lord refreshed
us with His presence.”
Pressing On
We toiled on in Rochester through much perplexity and discour-
agement. The cholera visited the city, and while it raged, all night long
the carriages bearing the dead were heard rumbling through the streets
to Mount Hope Cemetery. This disease did not cut down merely the
low, but took victims from every class of society. The most skillful
physicians were laid low, and borne to Mount Hope. As we passed
through the streets in Rochester, at almost every corner we would meet
wagons with plain pine coffins in which to put the dead.
Our little Edson was attacked, and we carried him to the great
Physician. I took him in my arms, and in the name of Jesus rebuked
the disease. He felt relief at once, and as a sister commenced praying