Group
of religionists meet and plan to
thwart the work of publishing the
Book of Mormon. Mother Smith spends
the night with the manuscript in
a trunk under her bed. She contemplates
many scenes she has passed through.
Three men visit the Smiths with
intentions of distracting Lucy,
seizing the manuscript, and immediately
burning it. Their scheme fails.
Early
fall 1829
Oliver
Cowdery commenced the work immediately
after Joseph left, and the printing
went on very well for a season,
but the clouds of persecution again
began to gather. The rabble, and
a party of restless religionists,
began to counsel together as to
the most efficient means of putting
a stop to our proceedings.
About
the first council of this kind was
held in a room adjoining that in
which Oliver and young Mr. Robinson,
son of our friend, Dr. Robinson,
were printing. They suspected that
something was agitated among these
men that was not right, and Oliver
proposed to Mr. Robinson that he
should put his ear to a hole in
the partition wall, and by this
means he overheard the following
remarks and resolutions: One said,
“Now, gentlemen, this golden bible
which the Smiths have got is destined
to break down everything before
it, if a stop is not put to it.
This very thing is going to be a
serious injury to all religious
denominations, and in a little while,
many of our excellent minister goodmen,
who have no means of obtaining a
respectable livelihood except by
their ministerial labor, will be
deprived of their salaries, which
is their living. Shall we endure
this, gentlemen?”
Cries
of, “No! No!”
“Well,
how shall we put a stop to the printing
of this thing?”
It
was then moved, seconded, and carried
without a dissenting voice to appoint
three of their company to come to
our house on the following Tuesday
or Wednesday, when the men were
not about the house, and request
me to read the manuscript to them;
and that after I had done reading
it, two of the company should attract
my attention toward something else
than the manuscript, and while they
were doing this, the third should
seize the writing from the drawer
and throw the same into the fire
and burn it up.
“Again,”
said the speaker, “suppose that
we fail in this — or any other plan
— and the book is published in defiance
of all that we can do. What is then
to be done? Shall we buy their books
and suffer our families to read
them?” They all responded, “No!”
They then entered into a solemn
covenant, binding themselves by
tremendous oaths, that they would
never own a single volume, nor would
they permit one member of their
families to do so, and thus they
would nip the dreadful calamity
while it was in the bud.
Oliver
came home that evening and related
the whole affair with solemnity,
for he was greatly troubled by it.
“Mother, what shall I do with the
manuscript? Where shall I put it
to keep it away from them?”
“Oliver,”
said I, “do not think the matter
so serious after all, for there
is a watch kept constantly about
the house, and I need not take out
the manuscript to read it to them
unless I choose, and for its present
safety I can have it deposited in
a chest, under the head of my bed,
in such a way that it never will
be disturbed.” I then placed it
in a chest, raised up the head of
my bedstead, and shoved the chest
under it, letting the bedstead fall,
so that the chest was securely closed,
although it had neither lock nor
key.
At
night we all went to rest at the
usual hour except Peter Whitmer,
who spent the night on guard. As
for myself, soon after I lay down
upon my bed, I fell into a train
of reflections which occupied my
mind until the day appeared. I called
up to my recollection the past history
of my life, and scene after scene
seemed to rise in succession before
me. The principles of early piety
which were taught me when my mother
called me, with my brothers and
sisters, around her knee and instructed
us to feel our constant dependence
upon God, our accountability to
him, our liability to transgression,
the necessity of prayer, and of
a death and judgment to come.
Then
again, I seemed to hear the voice
of my brother Jason declaring to
the people that the true religion
and faith of the Church of Jesus
Christ, which He established on
the earth, was not among the Christian
denominations of the day, and beseeching
them, by the love of God, to seek
to obtain that faith which was once
delivered to the Saints.
Again,
I seemed to stand at the bedside
of my sister Lovisa, and saw her
exemplify the power of God in answer
to the prayer of faith by an almost
entire resuscitation, while her
livid lips moved but to express
one sentiment — which was the power
of God over disease and death.
The
next moment I was conveyed to the
closing scene of my sister Lovina’s
life, and heard her last admonition
to her mates and myself reiterated
in my ear. Then my soul thrilled
to the plaintive notes of the favorite
hymn which she repeated in the last
moments of her existence on earth.
Oh, how often I had listened to
the beautiful music of the voices
of these two sisters and drunk in
their tones as if I might ne’er
hear them again.
After
that, I seemed to live again the
season of gloominess, of prayers
and tears, that preceded my sister’s
death, when my heart was burdened
with anxiety, distress, and fear
lest I, by any means, should fail
in that preparation which is needful
in order to meet my sisters in that
world for which they had taken their
departure.
It
was then I began to feel the want
of a living instructor in matters
of salvation. How intensely I felt
this deficiency when, a few years
afterwards, I found myself upon
the very verge of the eternal world;
and although I had an intense desire
for salvation, yet I was totally
devoid of any satisfactory knowledge
or understanding of the laws or
requirements of that Being before
whom I expected shortly to appear.
But I labored faithfully in prayer
to God, struggling to be freed from
the power of death.
When
I recovered, I sought unceasingly
for someone who could impart to
my mind some definite idea of the
requirements of heaven with regard
to mankind. But like Esau seeking
his blessing, I found them not,
though I sought the same with tears.
For days and months and years I
continued asking God continually
to reveal to me the hidden treasures
of his will. Although I was always
strengthened, I did not receive
answer to my prayers for many years.
I had
always believed confidently that
God would raise up someone who would
effect a reconciliation among those
who desired to do his will at the
expense of all other things. But
what was my joy and astonishment
to hear my own son, though a boy
of fourteen years of age, declare
that he had been visited by an angel
from heaven! [1]
My
mind rested upon the hours which
I had spent listening to the instructions
which Joseph had received, and which
he faithfully committed to us. We
received these with infinite delight,
but none were more engaged than
the one from whom we were doomed
to part, for Alvin was never so
happy as when he was contemplating
the final success of his brother
in obtaining the record.
And
now I fancied I could hear him with
his parting breath conjuring his
brother to continue faithful that
he might obtain the prize that the
Lord had promised him. But when
I cast my mind upon the disappointment
and trouble which we had suffered
while the work was in progress,
my heart beat quickly and my pulse
rose high, and in my best efforts
to the contrary, my mind was agitated.
I felt every nervous sensation which
I experienced at the time the circumstances
took place.
At
last, as if led by an invisible
spirit, I came to the time when
the messenger from Waterloo informed
me that the translation was actually
completed. My soul swelled with
a joy that could scarcely be heightened,
except by the reflection that the
record which had cost so much labor,
suffering, and anxiety was now,
in reality, lying beneath my own
head — that this identical work
had not only been the object which
we as a family had pursued so eagerly,
but that prophets of ancient days,
angels, and even the great God had
had his eye upon it. “And,” said
I to myself, “shall I fear what
man can do? Will not the angels
watch over the precious relic of
the worthy dead and the hope of
the living? And am I indeed the
mother of a prophet of the God of
heaven, the honored instrument in
performing so great a work?” I felt
that I was in the purview of angels,
and my heart bounded at the thought
of the great condescension of the
Almighty.
Thus
I spent the night surrounded by
enemies and yet in an ecstasy of
happiness. Truly I can say that
my soul did magnify and my spirit
rejoiced in God, my Savior.
On
the fourth day after they had met,
the three men delegated by the council
came to perform the work assigned
them. They began, “Mrs. Smith, we
hear you have a gold bible, and
we came to see if you would be so
kind as to show it to us?”
“No,
gentlemen,” said I, “we have no
gold bible, but we have a translation
of some gold plates, which have
been brought forth to bring to the
world the plainness of the gospel
and to give to the children of men
a history of the people that used
to inhabit this continent.” I then
proceeded to give them the substance
of what is contained in the Book
of Mormon, particularly the principles
of religion which it contains. I
endeavored to show them the similarity
between these principles and the
simplicity of the gospel taught
by Jesus Christ in the New Testament.
“But,” added I, “the different denominations
are very much opposed to us. The
Universalists come here wonderfully
afraid that their religion will
suffer loss. The Presbyterians are
frightened lest their salary will
come down. The Methodists come and
they rage, for they worship a God
without body or parts, and the doctrine
we advocate comes in contact with
their views.”
“Well,”
said the foremost gentleman with
whom I was acquainted, “can we see
the manuscript?”
“No,
sir, you cannot see it. We
have done exhibiting the manuscript
altogether. I have told you what
is in it, and that must suffice.”
He
did not reply to this, but said,
“Mrs. Smith, you, Hyrum, Sophronia,
and Samuel have belonged to our
church for some time, and we respect
you very highly. You say a great
deal about the book which your son
has found and believe much of what
he tells you, but we cannot bear
the thoughts of losing you, and
they do wish — I wish — that if
you do believe those things, you
never would proclaim anything about
them. I do wish you would not.” [2]
“Deacon
Beckwith,” said I, “even if you
should stick my body full of faggots
and burn me at the stake, I would
declare, as long as God should give
me breath, that Joseph has that
record, and that I know it to be
true.”
He
then turned to his companions and
said, “You see, it is no use to
say anything more to her, for we
cannot change her mind.” Then, addressing
me, he said, “Mrs. Smith, I see
that it is not possible to persuade
you out of your belief, and I do
not know that it is worthwhile to
say any more about the matter.”
“No,
sir,” said I, “it is of no use.
You cannot affect anything by all
that you can say.”
He
then bid me farewell and went out
to see Hyrum, when the following
conversation took place between
them:
Deacon
Beckwith: “Mr. Smith, do you not
think that you may be deceived about
that record which your brother pretends
to have found?”
Hyrum:
“No, sir, I do not.”
Deacon
Beckwith: “Well, now, Mr. Smith,
if you find that you are deceived,
and that he has not got the record,
will you confess the fact to me?”
Hyrum:
“Will you, Deacon Beckwith, take
one of the books, when they are
printed, and read it, asking God
to give you an evidence that you
may know whether it is true?”
Deacon
Beckwith: “I think it beneath me
to take so much trouble; however,
if you will promise that you will
confess to me that Joseph never
had the plates, I will ask for a
witness whether the book is true.”
Hyrum:
“I will tell you what I will do,
Mr. Beckwith, if you do get a testimony
from God that the book is not true,
I will confess to you that it is
not true.”
Upon
this they parted, and the deacon
next went to Samuel, who quoted
to him Isaiah 56:9-11:
“All
ye beasts of the field, come to
devour, yea, all ye beasts in the
forest. His watchmen are blind:
they are all ignorant, they are
all dumb dogs, they cannot bark;
sleeping, lying down, loving to
slumber. Yea, they are greedy dogs
which can never have enough, and
they are shepherds that cannot understand:
they all look to their own way,
every one for his gain, from his
quarter.”
Here
Samuel ended the quotation, and
the three gentlemen left without
ceremony.
——————
Notes
