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 cannot 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. 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 the 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 boxcars 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, but 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
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 pled 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.”1
[1]:
[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 arose 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.]
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 but 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 awhile 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
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.” (John 21:16-17)
At another time, on the old Deerfield, Indiana, campground, 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 campground, 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 campground. 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 campmeeting 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 someone 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 someone 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 cannot 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 lived 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
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 “River of Peace,” and shouting, “Hallelujah!” 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 campground 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, “Hallelujah! 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.” (Acts 8:7)
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 anyone. 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 campground near Grand Junction, Michigan.* This place, where are situated a few other graves and where the proximity to the empty cottages on the campground 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, and 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.” (Hebrews 13:14) 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.” (Numbers 23:10)