114                                 TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES                                





CHAPTER VI.

126                                 TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES                                





CHAPTER VII.

The remainder of vol. I of this book has not been transcribed.

equal to that they had accorded to his pretended divinations. The crude elements of some daring feat, no doubt, were even then floating in his mind, but they were crushed or hidden for the time, as he, with his companions, fled before an officer who more thab suspicioned them of putting into circulation certain moneys more than had been authorised by law. While evading his pursuers he became acquainted with Sidney Rigdon, a religious Ishmaelite, who had in turn belonged to, and been excluded from several denominations. Rigdon knew nothing but what he had been taught, while Smith had been taught nothing, and formed his ideas from nature and an unassisted scrutiny of nature's works. His keen perception was more than a match for the Ishmaelite's book-learning, for what he left as beyond the intelligence of mortal mind, Smith grasped and solved with the might of an overpowering perseverance.

The crude, startling vagaries of the possessor of the "seer stones," money-digger, and visionary, were poured into the ears of Rigdon, who had perception enough to discover an original was before him, but he was unable to even fathom the depth of the pent-up passion that lay coiled among them. Smith saw he only had a listener, who devoured with avidity all the absurdities he uttered, and in him saw not a guide or companion, but simply a willing tool to do his bidding.
 

---

CHAPTER II.

Between the years 1809 and 1816, when all savandom was exercised in regard to the origin of the swarthy aborigines of America, when Catlin, armed with pen and pencil, started on his pilgrimage to bring to light from their wild fastness, all that could solve the mystery of their ancestry -- when Major Noah shook hands with their haughty chieftains and claimed them as brethren descended from the same father, Israel, and the onward march of civilization was leveling the primitive forests, an unearthing the hidden sepulchers and relics of extinct nations, Solomon Spaulding, settled in Salem, Ashtabula County, Ohio. The now rich cultivated fields, were then dark forests, among which beasts of prey prowled, and aborigines, driven to desperation by the gradual extinction of their race and hunting grounds, lurked in ambush

Note: Page 52 of British edition = pages 83-84 in the American reprint)

if they remained pure, look upon the Word of God, the sight of which was death to those who viewed it unworthily.

The twelve were not idle through the week, and when the day appointed arrived, everything was in readiness. They repaired to a small stream which wound its way over a shallow bed near by, across which a dam had been thrown to raise the water to the necessary height, and where the novelty of the occasion had drawn the people for miles around, until both banks were lined by hundreds of spectators, who felt a curiosity to witness this crowning act of the daring impostor's impiety.

He came with his little band, and one by one he led them into the water, laid them beneath the yielding wave; and when this was accomplished he turned to the people and addressed them in a passionate harangue, when all dispersed quietly as they came; but the impression which those of credulous temperments had received, was extensive and deep. They had all their lives heard of the wonderful and marvellous, but now it was among them, and they hastened to embrace it. The case with which all he had undertaken was accomplished, had done away with all distrust of his own powers of elocution, and Smith now launched forth, at all times and seasons, with an easy, impudent assurance that would have made the fortune of a political stump campaigner.

The assurance of the Mormons, as the new organisation called themselves, that the golden plates were not mythical, and that they had seen them, raised the curiosity of the people to a formidable height. Flattery, threats, and stratagems were exhausted, in the vain endeavor to find the whereabouts without avail. The man they had to deal with was more than a match for their curiosity, and, as a last resort, they called in the strong arm of the law to aid them in the unequal contest. One of the many offenses with which he stood charged was brought forward, and he fled before the constables armed with warrants for his arrest for obtaining goods on false pretenses and forgery.

Securing the brass plates, he made his way for protection to the home of his father-in-law, in Pennsylvania, until the charges against him in New York were settled by the aid of his friends, who clamoured loudly for the return of the Prophet. During his absence the twelve had swelled to twice that number, among whom Parley Pratt was an acquisition of great

Note: Page 53 of British edition = pages 84-85 in the American reprint)

importance to the infant fast outgrowing its swaddling clothes. He was constituted a preacher of the new doctrine, and to his first sermon, Sermon Rigdon, the confederate in the nefarious imposture, thought it time to throw off the cloak beneath which he had labored for his Master, and strike his colors to Parley Pratt and Mormonism.

The Prophet returned to find the people who had never attended divine service anywhere, and who, by common consent had, by their manners and own acts never been anything else than moral outlaws, flocking around the standard which he had raised. This was what he desired, for he had neither expected nor desired a different class, from the beginning. Those that would with unquestioning credulity obey his behest, and be boon companions were all he desired, and such he avowed he was sent to gather into his fold.

To prepare the "Manuscript Found" of Spaulding for publication was now of great importance, and by dint of hard labor he had so altered some parts, and by erasing others and substituting his own phrases for the correct ones, that he considered it would answer his purpose. Then retiring behind his screen, with the brass plate, the concave mirrors set in a rim of the same precious metal as the plates, together with the "Manuscript" while Cowdry, the pedagogue was on the other side of the screen as an amanuensis, he pretended to read and translate the characters on the plates through the mirrors, but in reality he read from Spaulding's "Manuscript" which he had mutilated to suit his purpose. The labor in the course of a few months was accomplished, and so completely had Smith been successful, that Sidney Rigdon was deceived more easily, as he had seen the plates which Smith asserted had contained the records, and was half inclined to believe Smith's assertion, that the Spaulding "Manuscript" had been, if written by its reputed author, written while under inspiration, which gift in sinning he had afterwards lost; but certainly it was a link between the present and the Lost Tribes of Israel. The germ had expanded into a blossom and what had previously been a mere neighborhood excitement spread by the aid of the numerous teachers sent out by Smith to the adjoining counties, and from them to different States, whence the contagion spread over the Union. The novelty took with the unthinking while the debased flew with alacrity to the first sect they had ever known, who were willing to receive them with their

Note: Page 54 of British edition = pages 85-86 in the American reprint)

habits with open arms. The free and easy discipline overlooked all enormities demanding nothing with so much eagerness as numbers, no matter whence they came, nor what were their antecedents, so that they new avowed an implicit belief in the impostures of the self-styled Prophet. The mystery that enveloped their leader's movements, the marvellous and miraculous pretensions inspired them with a devotional awe, and he soon became regarded by his followers with veneration which fell like a balm on his perverted heart, and only added new ardor to the course he was pursuing.

As the months went by, and funds came into the Prophet's hands but slowly, he knew that the publication would be long delayed unless he made a bold strike for its accomplishment. He therefore started a new feint by which to assail the money-bags of his disciple.

"This book," said he, "emanating from a divine source, will, if once given to the world, revolutionize and reorganise the whole social system. It will carry conviction wherever it is read; for the divine presence will accompany it. It is not wrong for us, then, to delay giving to the world what God has entrusted to us for its good? Do we not sin and run the risk of losing for ever the favour of the Father by our delay?

"Aye, we are all criminal by it, and let us all contribute to a common fund to accomplish its publication. I will head the list with twenty-five cents, and that will be much for a poor man like me, after the fifty dollars I have already given."

"Is that all you can give for the conversion of the whole world to our faith? Think you, brother Harris, it is all you ought to give to accomplish the subversion of every government to our behests? for as true as yonder sun rides the sky, the day is not far distant when empires and kingdoms, principalities and republics, shall lay their authorities at our feet, and demand at our hands laws and rulers appointed by the revelation of God, as given through his chosen Prophet," returned Smith reproachfully.

"If all the rest give what I have given, surely there will be enough -- I have but little, very little left. Had you not better try to get the governments to print it for the good it will do them?"

"Governments are short-sighted, and must be convinced before they will act. We must print the work and send it out to the world; then all earthly honours will fall into our

Note: Page 55 of British edition = pages 86-87 in the American reprint)

gift, and think you, when God comes to rule by His chosen people, he will countenance the elevation to high places of those who had the means to advance the faith, but refused to use it for his service, even when assured it should be returned, together with high worldly honours, a thousandfold?"

"If I thought it would occur in my day, so that I could be Governor of the State, I think I would give half my little gains. I have never had any honours, and even my neighbours have looked down on me all my life; I would like to be above them, and give them back the scorn and contempt with which they have embittered my life," spoke the old man eagerly.

"You may have even more than that; you may rule by divine right, by universal acclamation, if you sin not, and use all you possess to advance our common cause."

"If I only had some security!" said the old man dubiously.

"You are still worldly-minded, brother Harris," said the Prophet in a playful tone; then he continued, "What do you think of my note as security?"

"Oh, if I had that, with -- with endorsers," said the old man eagerly, as his bleared eyes glittered with satisfaction at a way of escape from the dilemma.

"I would not dare refuse, if you require it, brother Harris," returned the Prophet gravely. "My mission in the world is to establish the true faith, and Heaven forbid that I should let any consideration hinder me in its prosecution."

I am so very poor," muttered the old man depreciatingly, "that it will be hard to spare anything; but if you could give the note and endorsers, I would try."

Not deeming it advisable to thwart the old man, the Prophet left him, and among his followers obtained the necessary names, drew up a note, and received the money of the duped miser, who clung to his god with a yearning years had augmented until it had grown into a mania.

The "Manuscript" soon emanated from the press, under the title of the "Mormon Bible, or the Book of Mormon." But it failed to revolutionise the world, as the Prophet asserted it would, and was greeted much as many other curiosities are which are ushered into life by that triumph of modern art. Armed with this nondescript, the preachers of Mormonism made more rapid progress in their labours, and the West was looked to with longing eyes by the Prophet, as the most ex-

THE


P R O P H E T S;


OR,



M O R M O N I S M   UNVEILED.


With Illustrations.




_________



PHILADELPHIA:

P U B L I S H E D   B Y   WM.   W H I T E   S M I T H.
195 CHESTNUT STREET.
LONDON: TRUBNER & Co.,
1855.

[ 30 ]






CHAPTER II.

Modern Antiquarians -- A Dartmouth Collegian -- A pioneer on the shore of Lake Erie -- Relics of the past -- Vagaries of an over excited brain -- An Author -- "Manuscript Found" -- A model Publisher -- Truth in a Printing Office -- Modern morals -- Notorious imbecility of Authors -- Wisdom of Publishers -- Literature and Tobacco -- Death of an Author -- Manuscript for waste paper -- Copy preserved by an admiring Publisher -- Death of a Publisher -- Copy falls into the hands of an Ishmaelite -- Encounter of the Ishmaelite and Embryo Prophet -- Cemented Friendship.

BETWEEN the years 1809 and 1816, when all savandom was exercised in regard to the origin of the swarthy aborigines of America, when Catlin, armed with pen and pencil, started on his pilgrimage to bring to light from their wild fastness, all that could solve the mystery of their ancestry -- when Major Noah shook hands with their haughty chieftains and claimed them as brethren descended from the same father, Israel, and the onward march of civilization was leveling the primitive forests, an unearthing the hidden sepulchers and relics of extinct nations, Solomon Spaulding, settled in Salem, Ashtabula County, Ohio. The now rich cultivated fields, were then dark forests, among which beasts of prey prowled, and aborigines, driven to desperation by the gradual extinction of their race and hunting grounds, lurked in ambush

to await the unguarded moment when they could in safety sally forth and hurl dire vengeance on the pale faces who had usurped their all. At their feet and rolling away to the north lay Lake Erie, a broad inland sea, majestic and imperious in the storm when its angry billows lashed its rugged shores, but beautiful as a sleeping tiger in its hours of repose.

As the axe of the hardy pioneer disencumbered, and the plowshare furrowed the earth, beneath which slept all that remained of the unknown past of America's once cherished hearth-stones and sacred groves, spots hallowed by noble deeds and the graves of a lost nation, whose origin and name in the age in which they flourished sleep alike with those who bore it, and with it has dissolved back to the elements from which they arose, were brought to light. Skeletons of the people, jars of earthen ware, terra-cotta vases beautifully carved, thin sheets of brass covered with hieroglyphics, held together by rings at their backs, with numerous articles elegantly carved in stone, were of common occurrence, unearthed to reward the research of the pioneer.

"It is well enough" he cried one day, when after divesting some of the plates of rust, the hieroglyphics come out bold and clear, "for the Professors of New York, Philadelphia and London, to advance such opinions on a subject, upon which they have about as much practical knowledge as an Indian has about a sawmill; but, to ask

those who have seen different and know better, is simply preposterous."

"You are positive the characters are not Hebrew or Egyptian?" queried Mrs. Spaulding, who deprecated this research, as she was not sure but that by increasing mental irritation, which in her husband's case, it was desirable to allay, he would become incapable of either mental or physical labor.

"Positive!" he cried with roused pride, "could I not read them if they were, and these are like so much Chinese to me. No! no; though they may be Chaldaic," he added thoughtfully, as he gazed longingly on the thin sheets of metal, covered with what had been bold, characters, but now had lost much of the beauty of outline by corroding time.

"It is not worth the trouble, if you could," returned his more matter-of-fact companion. "It will, if deciphered neither till the soil, nor put money into your pockets, but on the contrary will lead to a close mental application which you have been strictly forbidden to indulge in by physicians."

"Forsooth! I am to let my talents rust, because a man who never had any does not see the utility of those who have using them! About the money, I do not think myself it will bring any -- I never knew a useful invention that did the inventor, but the future ages to come, may do me the justice that our own age is now doing to the

names of Newton, Franklin, and a host of others, who are long since dead," answered the enthusiastic collegian.

A cloud settled on the brow of Mrs. Spaulding, as she turned away to conceal the anxiety of her heart, which she knew full well could be traced on her brow.

The vagaries that had flitted through the brain of the antiquarian as he communed with himself, developed into form; and surrounding himself with all the antiquities he had been able to collect, he seized his pen and paper, and heading it "Manuscript Found," transcribed thereon the fantastic beings to which it had given birth. Conversant with the abstruse tomes of biblical research, he imitated its chronological theme, names, and style. Still, it was but an imitation, lacking the fire of inspiration, although it bore the trace of brilliant genius and intense thought.

Mrs. Spaulding seeing the evil his present course of life was doing him, and thinking how futile was every endeavour to break the fascinating chain that enthralled him, while surrounded by what had awakened and wove him in its toils, urged a removal from the vicinity. Woman's wit was brought into requisition for devices without awakening suspicion in his sensitive mind as to the real cause; and in a few weeks she had induced him to abandon his forest home, which had aided in fostering his imagination, until it had assumed an alarming symptom,

for the busy, active life among his fellows in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Here as he daily encountered the living throne as they pursued the every day actualities of life, his mind assumed a more healthy tone, its morbid sensitiveness gave place to genial humour, and instead of pursuing his former vagaries, was so far cured of them as to bring out his manuscripts and read them for his friends' amusement, laughing heartily himself at their absurdities. Their originality and oddities struck the fancy of a Mr. Patterson who made application to him for the manuscript for publication.

"But, my dear sir," said the author in amazement, "they are the greatest absurdities an overwrought imagination ever penned; there is not a word of truth in them."

"So much the better," returned the publisher, coolly; "they will, for that very reason, tickle the fancy of the wise, while the simple will gulp them down as they gape for more, and cry, 'how wonderful!'"

"But to publish such unblushing falsehoods as truth is downright dishonesty," persisted the author.

"Why, man, do you think all that is published is veritable truth? Poor time of it we publishers would have if we had nothing more to tickle the public brain with!"

"But to publish for truth what was not even a foundation

in it; no, no, I cannot consent so to mislead my fellow men."

"Really, Spaulding, you never should have left the pulpit; you would have made a capital preacher of morality; you make such nice points where common men see none."

"If you will publish it as an effort of imagination, not as truth, I will not object," replied the collegian, as what he was destined for was thus forcibly recalled to memory with all its bright anticipations crumbled to ashes in his hand.

"That would spoil the whole; you are too fastidious, Spaulding; give me the manuscript for perusal, and if it is all as rich as what you have read to me, it will, if published, make your fortune."

"I would rather never have a fortune than have it made at the expense of truth," returned the author as he gave the manuscript into the hands of the printer and turned away.

"That man is a fool, and I never knew an author that was not," muttered Patterson impatiently, as he settled himself in an easy position for the perusal of the manuscript; that is, he tilted his chair back, elevated his feet at an angle of forty-five degrees, deposited them on a window ledge, and placed a cigar in his mouth, from which he alternately knocked the ashes and withdrew to deposit its concomitant in the direction of the spittoon,

but which oftener hit the wall beyond, or the files of papers around it.

Patterson saw and acknowledged the genius that could invent such a plot and carry it so triumphantly through, as was disclosed in the perusal of the manuscript, although he failed to obtain it for publication on any other than Spaulding's own terms; and these would not answer his purpose, he contented himself with the privilege given by Spaulding, of taking a copy of it for his amusement; and he was wont to read copious extracts from this to others. One of his journeymen, Sidney Rigdon, who was a young itinerant Campbellite preacher, became fascinated by its oddity, and protested it sounded vastly like reality with all its absurdities. Patterson laughed at the credulity of his employee, while Spaulding shook his head, and was more than ever resolved to adhere to his first decision, either to retain forever so gross a tissue of falsehoods, or give it to the world such as it was, a romance.

Spaulding's pecuniary affairs, never very flourishing, demanded his removal to Amity, Washington County, New York, where a disease, under which he had long suffered, and which at times had nearly dethroned his reason, gained the mastery, and he died in 1816. Mrs. Spaulding, collected the original copy of the "Manuscript Found," together with other waste papers of her husband, and packing them away in a trunk, left them with his relatives in Otsego County, New York, where they were

destroyed as waste and worthless papers. Rigdon soon after, left Patterson's employment for other printing offices in the city, occasionally borrowing the copy of Spaulding's manuscript in the possession of Patterson, for the amusement of his fellow workmen. In 1826, Patterson died, leaving the manuscript in the possession of Rigdon, who had borrowed it a few days previously, and who now, that no one demanded it, had not the manliness to return it to its rightful owners. He, however, kept it no secret, and there are many at this hour living in that city, who have seen and heard Rigdon read from the "Manuscript Found." Rigdon in the year after the death of Patterson, wandered away in search of work and a congregation ignorant enough to appreciate his talents. During this tour, which the state of his finances obliged him to perform in the primitive mode so congenial to good digestion, as he was taking the nearest way from one village to another in the eastern part of the State, his path led down a ridge, at whose base murmured a mountain stream thickly shaded by the forest that shut out the noon-day sun. Weary and hungry, he threw himself on its mossy bank, drank from its gurgling depth, then taking a lunch from his bundle commenced his meal. While thus engaged he surveyed the scenery around; but before his eye had wandered far, it fell on a youth on the opposite bank surveying him with looks of distrust. He stood erect with his hat swept back from his forehead, a rifle

resting in the bend of his left arm, while his right hand played nervously with its hammer. A keen, bold, searching eye surveyed him, with a look not at all comfortable to a man of Rigdon's temperament, and he turned to fly in dismay, when an imperious voice cried in a tone of command, "stop!"

Trembling with affright, he paused and turned towards the youth who had raised his rifle and was glancing along its barrel.

"Don't shoot! for heaven's sake don't shoot! I have never done anybody any harm!" cried the alarmed Rigdon; and in truth a more courageous man than he would have felt like showing the white feather with that bold eye glancing at him across the rifle's barrel.

"Stand still then, for I want to know what you are here for, if you are afraid of a rifle?" returned the youth, advancing, as he lowered his weapon again to his arm.

"I did not come for anything; I was only crossing over the ridge to the village beyond, and stopped to rest. Let me go now; you surely do not want to hurt one of the Lord's Anointed? -- I am a preacher." pleaded Rigdon in a frightened tone.

"You a preacher?" cried his persecutor as he burst into a loud laugh that would have frightened any denizens of the forest that had been within hearing. Then he continued as he surveyed him from head to foot, "it strikes me you look like one, or a constable which is about the

same. Come man, don't make a fool of yourself; out with it, and tell me who you are in search of?"

"I a constable!" returned the now astonished and somewhat re-assured Rigdon: "I am nothing of the sort. I am a respectable man, a minister of the gospel."

"That won't do, covey. Ministers never go rambling through the woods carrying bundles and eating cold dinners. They always ride, and are fed like the governor. Come, quibbling won't do; tell me who you are after."

"I was never after anybody, sir, never!"

"Nonsense; you are a constable after Joe Smith; you know you are; and I want you to take back a message to those that sent you, from me, for I happen to be that individual."

"There has no one sent me, nor am I a constable; neither did I ever hear of Joe Smith," persisted the victim.

This last assertion staggered his persecutor who demanded in a softened tone:

"Why don't you say who you are, then, and what you are doing here? you are not hunting, for you have no gun; and to tell me you are a minister is folly. I am not so easily gulled as that."

"I have my credentials with me, and if that don't convince you, I can do no more," he returned, as he drew from an old leather wallet a tattered slip of paper, and handed it over to his tormentor.

"Humph," he growled, as he glanced over its surface, and a feeling of bitterness filled his heart as he surveyed it, for it might as well have been written in the Carib tongue as his own, for all the benefit it was to him, so perfectly untrammeled by art had the sire led his hopeful progeny in his own footsteps. He, in his vagabond careless life, had never felt the want of it; but his sons, whether they had more ideas to communicate, or whether what they had were kept in agitation by a lurking envy and ambition is not very clear, often had. The mood of Rigdon's tormentor, therefore, did not improve as he gazed longingly on the bit of paper covered over with a scrawl, and flinging it passionately from him, he cried:

"You are one of the book learned rascals, are you? Now," he continued, as he planted the butt of his rifle angrily on the ground, "I want to know wherein it makes you better than I am who cannot even read a word of your writing. You are no better dressed, nor have you a rifle like this, and if you had, I do not believe you would know how to fire it any better."

"I am no better than you," returned the victim humbly, "and may be," he added depreciatingly, "I am not so good looking; nor yet have as good clothes, or a rifle, but I can fire one, and if I don't hit the mark every time, then I give you leave to call me a constable or anything else you please."

"Done," cried the rifleman, and placing a piece of paper the size of a dollar eighty yards distant, he gave the rifle into the hands of Rigdon, who examined it closely a moment, then raised it to his shoulder, glanced along its barrel and fired. Handing it to the owner who was eyeing him with a curious look which was gradually displaced by one of admiration, he said:

"The upper edge of the paper is marked -- load it again and I will fetch it next time."

Silently the rifle was loaded, and again placed in Rigdon's hands who once more drew it deliberately to bear on the paper, fired, and it fell to the ground.

"Drove the pin, by Heaven! you are the boy for me," cried Smith exultingly, as he seized Rigdon's hand, and shook it with an iron grasp.

"You are satisfied, are you?" replied Rigdon coolly, as he returned the rifle.

"No, not quite; I want to know who and what you are -- where you came from, and where you are going."

Chequered as Rigdon's life had been, it was soon told, and as he warmed on his subject, in speaking of his intercourse with Patterson, he took from his bundle the copy of the original "Manuscript Found," made by Patterson of Spaulding's romance, and read pages from it to amuse his eager listener, whose whole soul was wrapt in the local romance which placed angels, patriarchs, and even God himself among the scenes of which he was familiar. The

superstitious awe which had held him so often heretofore in its fetters, together with the pall of ignorance that hemmed him around, made it appear so like truth that he yielded to it a willing homage, and when told by Rigdon, it was all fiction, it sounded harshly and jarred with the newly awakened cord it had vibrated in his heart

Hours were thus spent, during which every barrier was broken down between the two, and when night came on, they were sworn brothers through future time. The imperious, daring, headstrong tone of Smith's temperament, together with the superstitions that enthralled him, suited the dreamy biblical disputant, and the credulity with which his vagaries were received pleased him, while the Ishmaelite's roving nature and versatility, together with his varied abilities, won the confidence of the then fugitive from justice; and when a few weeks later he emerged from his covert, his friends having procured the withdrawal of the prosecution against him, he was accompanied by the Ishmaelite.

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CHAPTER III.

Master and pupil -- Talent and imbecility -- A contrast -- Pupil becomes the master -- Error and truth -- Persecuted genius -- A vision from the higher or lower regions -- A quandary as to which -- Prophet bursts his chrysalis -- The dame's ambition -- A son's reverence -- The sorrowing bride -- A divine mission -- It is disputed by the sturdy neighbors -- The Prophet at a discount -- He is urged to a more dignified demeanor -- Rigdon and the Prophet -- Rigdon delivers over "Manuscript Found" to Joseph Smith..

On emerging from his involuntary banishment from the public eye, Smith brought with him his vague fancies that had arisen during the religious excitement through which he had passed, moulded into something tangible. By the aid of Rigdon's smattering of biblical lore, and the "Manuscript Found," which had been read and re-read to him, until his tenacious memory grasped it all, they had taken form, and one by one had been marshaled into order. The deep, unbroken silence of the forest with its awe inspiring grandeur, had been conducive to the train of thought and purpose that daily grew under his imaginative mind. He gradually played upon the superstitious Rigdon, until he had inspired him with an awe which Rigdon evinced by a blind acquiescence to his behests.

This involuntary banishment was one that bore upon

all the actions of his after life, for here Rigdon taught him to read and write, and all that he had spent a score of years in learning, had been grasped and digested by his pupil, and still he longingly called for more food to satisfy the mental hunger that, for years, had been preying upon all the generous promptings of his soul, and which now, that it had tasted of that for which it had so long cried in vain, it would not be denied or controlled. This mental craving for that which should satisfy the soul which broke forth like a tide of lava, puzzled Rigdon, but when he saw his pupil grasp abstruse themes and solve them by the force of a master intellect, themes he himself had never dared to lay hold of, his wonder was turned to veneration, and he believed in his heart Smith was the most persecuted man, as well as the greatest genius, in America.

Perhaps he did not err in the latter clause of his belief. It has been customary among all classes, except his adherents, to denounce Joseph Smith as being imbecile and ignorant, in connection with every species of crime of which he was guilty. Our historian, whose veracity cannot be gainsayed, asserts that his natural talents were superior to those of the common endowments of men, and that he was more capable of solving an abstruse theme within three years after he first learned his alphabet, than most men after taking their degree at college.

Probably this historian is correct, as, on reviewing his course through life, and that of an ignorant imbecile man,

one whose want of talent was never disputed, their course is found to be as wide as the antipodes asunder. The idiotic individual lives where his father lived; ate what was given him, tried to learn his way to church, but generally brought up in the bar opposite, died and was forgotten; while this man who has had both ignorance and imbecility falsely laid to his charge, never lived at any one place two consecutive months, -- went where no one else would go, -- spurned the old beaten track which so many millions have unmurmuringly trodden, -- beat out a new one, and led thousands after him, -- died, and will never be forgotten; for history's page is blotted by his name, and America's escutcheon bears the shame of his deeds.

A report that a golden Bible had been found in Canada, and another that one had been disentombed from among the tumuli of the west, gave the last link to a chain whose elements had been called into being during the religious excitement, and had been moulded into form during his wanderings from the haunts of men by the aid of Rigdon, and Spaulding's manuscript. This he scrupulously concealed from even Rigdon and his wife, and, save that they saw his demeanor gradually become grave, silent, and taciturn, as if his mind was big with untold thoughts, and that he sought and devoured with avidity books on religious themes, they knew nothing of the bent of his inclinations. They were unprepared for his announcement shortly after, that he had had a vision, and an angel had

commanded him to henceforth be guided in all his doings by the commands which should be given him by the Lord.

"Really, Smith, this is preposterous," cried his wife as a burst of merriment broke from the group around, in which she mingled, but with anger tingling her cheek at this new whim of one she had already learned to look on with distrust and suspicion.

"Don't he too hard on him, Emma" laughed Samuel; " he will make a capital saint. His acting will be great, I have no doubt; besides, it will be such an honour to have a dominie in the family."

"I tell you what, Joe, your idea of turning saint and holding converse with angels is capital, if you can get any one to believe it; but somehow that bogus coinage is in the way, as well as sundry ugly things on the squire's dockets, let alone the repute you are held in by the sanctimonious."

"May not a sinner repent and find acceptance with the Father who, not partaking of the frailty of mortals, pities their temptations?" asked the fledgling, gravely.

"Bravo, Joe, you will make somebody yet: you talk like a minister!" said his father, approvingly.

"La, me! I wonder what folks would say if our Joe should take to preachin'?" remarked the lackadaisical delicate head of the renowned family.

"He is joking, mother," expostulated the young wife, who had not yet learned to listen calmly to the vagaries

of a family she had surreptitiously abandoned a father's house to enter, every member of which she now despised from the bottom of her heart, not excepting the scapegrace who had lured her from her father's roof.

"Had you stood with me last night, and seen the heavenly messenger endow me with the gift of Prophecy, and the mission of re-organizing the only true church -- for all that are now are false lights to lure men to destruction -- you would not think I was joking," remarked the aspirant.

"You are not well to-day, Joseph, you talk wildly," returned his wife tenderly, laying her hand on his forehead, and looking down into his eyes with the old love roused in her heart by the appearance of evil to one with whom her destiny was linked.

"Never was better in my life, Emma! Nor do I talk wildly. God and the hosts of heaven are my witnesses, that what I tell you is true."

"I fear you have mistaken the hosts of heaven for those of the lower region -- your past course would bear out such a theory," returned Emma bitterly.

" Or, Emma those whom he has been so long endeavoring to make yield up their treasure which they guard;" continued Samuel with a sneer.

"The time has come, Joseph, returned the young wife with energy, when you must abandon this visionary, and lay hold of the actualities of life with a will, or alas! for our

future. We are young and strong, and the world is wide. Here the odium attached to us, how far deserved I know not, precludes our ever becoming respected or respectable; so hedged in are the people by custom that once thrust beyond their pale by overt acts, no life of rectitude can again penetrate the barrier beyond sufferance, and that I would never accept. No, Joseph pride is strong yet in my heart, and I pant to break away from this place, and go where we can make a home for ourselves, and rear a name for integrity and uprightness -- where by the labor of our hands and the blamelessness of our lives, we shall command at once a competence and the respect of our fellows."

"La, me, Emma, how you do talk! A body to hear you would suppose we were not good enough for your notions," returned the ruffian dame.

"I like that talk, Emma. If I had any one to help me by such advice, I believe I should be somebody yet," said Samuel, cordially.

"I could not, if such was my desire, change the course marked out for me. The heaviest penalties would follow me while life lasted, and after death, eternal condemnation. I must fulfill the will of my father who has chosen me a vessel to work out his will. If others revile, am I greater than the Master, that I should repine? It hath been said of old, 'A Prophet hath not honor in his own country,' but I tell you, Emma, these Gentiles shall honor what they have hitherto despised; for I will never pause

until I rise as far above them as the Father is above me," answered the visionary, and as he concluded he strode proudly out, leaving his family struck dumb by the audacity of his words, and the passionate hauteur of his manner.

A stifled sob swelled the bosom of the young wife, while a shade of despairing hope gathered on her brow as she abashed, sought her own room.

"Never mind, Emma," said Samuel, in a pitying tone, as she went out, "it is nothing but a whim he has got up to see if he can frighten some one."

"Well, if this doesn't beat all," added the dame, in a flutter of excitement. "I do believe Joe's wife thinks we are not good enough for her! Dear me, what will folks say when they hear our Joe has been talking with angels and such things?"

"That he is a bigger fool and knave than ever," growled Samuel, whose pity for the unhappiness of his brother's wife, had roused to a sense of the wicked, idle life they had all conjointly led.

"Well, Sam, what has come over you? Have not had a vision too, have you?" said his father.

"Just about as much as Joe has, though I do not believe I am half as big a knave," returned the ruffled man.

"It does seem to me as if we ought to have a preacher or squire, or legislator, or something of the sort, in our family, just to let people know that we are somebody, and

if our Joe can do anything, that wife of his ought to be made to let him alone, and not to be worrying him," returned the dame.

"Don't be a fool, mother," retorted her dutiful son. "Joe is a big enough one without your help, and if Emma can make him settle down quietly on a little farm somewhere, and make a man of him she will achieve wonders for which she will receive the thanks of the community." So saying, he walked away, and on casting a glance up at Emma's window he caught a glimpse of a white face with red swollen eyes, watching the receding form of Joseph in the distance -- which was quickly withdrawn, the curtain closed; but he knew full well that, in that little room, was the crushed, withered hopes of a young heart, whose only fault in life had been too great credulity, which had made her an easy prey to the wily toils of a brother, he hated, now that he had brought grief to the heart of his fair trusting bride.

Smith wended his way towards the hill Cumora, four miles distant, in a southernly direction, where he was to confer with Rigdon, in reference to the next best step to take, to further and spread an imposture so boldly begun. Rigdon by appointment was at the rendezvous, and the two compared notes as to what had transpired through the day. Smith had related his story to several of the neighbors, some of whom laughed at the idea, others were shocked at his impious audacity, while others

listened with open mouth and eyes at the strange occurrence. These latter had the humps of credulity wonderfully developed, so much so that, had Satan appeared before them and asserted he was sent into the world to save lost men, they would have left all to assist him in furthering his mission. Such there are usually in all communities, and that their type was found around Palmyra and Manchester was nothing new nor strange. Those endowed with the full gift of reason chid[ed] the new fledged Prophet for his idle life, and advised him to spend his nights in slumber and his days in labor, instead of concocting fables to amuse and distract the simple and ignorant.

Rigdon had repeated to the gaping auditors the invented tale, yet at the same time denied his implicit belief in it, but harped upon its singularity, taking care to give it in its most seductive form, declaring if it was not true that Smith had been transformed into a Prophet to redeem the world, it would, unless some other should be sent soon, be destroyed by reason of the extreme wickedness which had steeped it in guilt and woe.

"So far all promises well," observed Rigdon after they had canvassed each other's movements through the day. "But if you would not fail to let your demeanor bear out the impression to others that you have been completely transformed from the worldly man to the sublime mission of founding the only true church on earth -- to the chosen

servant of the most High -- for I find you are in the very worst possible odor with the people around here. Indeed one farmer to whom I related the tale demanded if I professed to make people believe, who had always known you and your family to be the veriest vagabonds around, that if God wanted to create a new Prophet, he would have chosen a man steeped in crime against all moral and civil law, instead of taking an honorable man, though he was ever so lowly."

"That was Day!" replied Smith angrily. "Let him go. I do not want such as him -- he is too straight-laced already -- no; what I want -- for that is all I can do -- is, to gather those of my own class and stamp. These are the most numerous, and they are thrust out by the others as though they were not human, and subject to like thoughts and passions as themselves."

"Such a man as Day can wield a strong influence over those you purpose to delude; therefore, it is best to impress him with our sincerity, if we do not get the wool over his eyes," returned Rigdon soothingly. "I have done all I thought advisable for the present, and find I can do our project more real good by mingling among the people, and keeping the subject before them, while I deny my belief in it, than I can to come out as a convert. Those will listen who in that case would not, and we must get another to do that for us. There is Cowdery who could be easily made to believe anything; but, it would not do to

let him into the secret that the plan was concocted between us. Whoever we hereafter associate with us, must do it in the full belief of the divinity of your mission; but shall share after us equally the honors and emoluments the project shall bring them!"

"I saw old Harris on my road hither, and he seems more impressible than any to whom I have yet related my mission. Have you brought the Spaulding's Manuscript with you? -- for I intend to have another vision soon, and I wish to refresh my memory as to the names and dates when it was buried. Besides I have been thinking whether it would not take among the credulous to destroy its identity by altering it to suit our purposes -- pretend we found it engraved on gold plates like that said to have been discovered in Canada, and have it published as a veritable Bible buried by the prophets of old, and its hiding place revealed to me in a vision. I being commanded at the same time to give it to the world as from the hand of God."

"It would hardly do, Smith. The ancients were not conversant with the English language, and the more knowing would say at once" 'The imposture carries its refutation on its face, for Smith is not conversant with the Hebrew, Egyptian, or Chaldaic in which one of the three dialects the plates must have been engraved, for in no other were the prophets of old conversant."

"Easily obviated," returned Smith coolly. "You know

I have the 'seer stones,' and I can make them believe I divined it by them, or what is better still, say a "urium and thumin' of which Spaulding speaks, was discovered with it."

"Nothing could be better, if we could evade discovery. Spaulding, Patterson and I, have read it to numbers of different people, and I am almost sure they would detect us."

"You tell me Spaulding and Patterson are both dead, as well as several others who saw it in their possession?"

"Yes, but Spaulding's wife still lives, and she knew its contents perfectly, she could not be deceived."

"Perhaps she might," returned the Prophet musingly. I tell you, Rigdon, the more I think of it, the more possible it appears. We must be cautious, but vigorous and I am sure we shall at least create an excitement that will fill our pockets at last, and raise us above those who have scorned us all our lives."

"Here is the manuscript, but use it carefully, and as you value the success of our schemes let no one see it or know it was ever in your or my possession. And be wary, and not have a vision too often, or you will, by your over zeal, draw down contempt from even the most ignorant.

Long these two worthies communed over their scheme for deception, and when the hours had waned and they had set on a firm basis a train of duplicity that should startle the world, they, even then, from the depth of

their corrupt hearts, gloated over the consternation one day's work had done at their impious fraud, and could they have looked into the future and seen them fully developed, even they might, startled at their own deeds, have stood aghast, and abandoned their further prosecution. Their only object at that time was to play upon the credulous, earn applause from the debased, and extort money from the simple, under the plea of a divine mission, and thus deceive and rob in a mode of which no law could arraign them for the offense. Pride, ambition and an overweening thirst for power led Smith to concoct the scheme while the most consummate hypocrisy which he had played off on several denominations of Christians, with the hope of rising with the tide, was Rigdon's motive. Honor, integrity and all the nobler passions of the human heart, had been stifled in the breasts of both and naught remained to stem the new-born crime which should drag their own names to the depths of infamy and enslave in vice thousands of their fellows.

[ 56 ]





CHAPTER IV.

Prophet and the people -- They refuse to believe in his mission -- They accuse him of crime -- They gather round his house -- Indications of violence -- The prophet pales before the danger -- He is urged by Rigdon to address them -- He in anger arms himself -- The Prophet on a wood pile -- His first sermon, wherein he relates wonders -- The hosts of heaven and redeemed souls -- The Prince of Darkness and his attendants -- They are routed by the Angel -- The Prophet receives the golden Bible -- Imposture triumphant.

THERE was comparative darkness on the earth even as late as our historian writes, for in that day the great luminaries that have since set the world on fire, had not arisen, and men were content to guide the helm of state through the channel that should bring the most good to the greatest numbers -- and women to beguile them from the cares which the peril of storms and tempest gathered around them, and fit their sons for the helm, when the sire yielded, as all must at last, to time and the tomb -- to mould the pliant mind, so that in future generations the land of their birth need not blush to own them, and the name of the traitor and coward be blotted from her page.

Twenty years make differences in other things as well as a woman's age, and this fact is probably the reason why Emma Smith, the disappointed bride, did not fall back on her dignity, espouse the cause of disappointed

women, in general, and her own in particular, and go promulgating them through the country, in contradistinction to her lord, who now spent his days in proclaiming the visions he averred he had received through the night. Hyrum, McKnight, and Rigdon became as inseparable, and with him, spent their nights in a small cave near where Smith averred the angel had appeared to him. The neighbors became suspicions of the trio, and set the constable on the alert, but when they were questioned as to their doings they meekly replied they were watching and praying; for even then, the angel was hovering in the air around them. The official took his departure with the full belief that they were crazed; but not so the crowd that had gathered around them, and followed them to their abode, constantly increasing in numbers as they went, until when they disappeared beneath the low portal a hundred persons had collected around. They had been drawn together by the exciting rumors which said there had been other visions seen by Smith, and he had been commanded in them to bring to light creeds and revelations buried two thousand years ago by the patriarchs, in the hill of Cumora by the command of God. McKnight, Hyrum, and Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Sr., acknowledged implicit belief in the modern miracles, but Emma and Samuel treated them with the contempt which they were received by the people who were gathered around the door, calling in no gentle tones for the

Prophet to come out and substantiate his assertions or deny them.

"Now, Smith, is your time to strike a heavy blow for yourself," cried Rigdon, as he, panting, made his way into the house of his confederate who, pale and trembling, like the culprit lie was, began to think his plan not so feasible after all.

"What! -- how! -- for Heaven's sake, Rigdon, tell me what I shall do!"

"Face the crowd boldly, and fearlessly, as a man who is under the protection of the Almighty's hand. Preach them a powerful sermon, setting forth your mission and urge them to come and join you, or take eternal death as the penalty."

"Preach! Rigdon, you must be joking. I never spoke in public in my life. I should not know what to say! Hist! what is that?" he continued, as a volley of gravel rattled against the house amidst the shouts of merriment and derision of the people without, who were shouting: "bring forth your Prophet, we want to see what he can say for himself!"

"It is the people, who are becoming angry. You must go out and speak resolutely to them -- the fools are not all dead yet, and who knows but what you will make some converts -- do not hesitate, but go at once."

"What can I say! I do not know how to preach! Ho! the scoundrels are breaking the windows!"

"You must not undertake to make fine speeches; if you do, they will laugh at you; but speak what you think, what is in your heart -- and as for the windows, that is nothing to what you may expect, if you do not go out and pacify them."

"Then, I will go out and tell them they are a pack of cursed tyrants who will not enjoy their own belief in quiet, nor let anybody else enjoy theirs!"

"Tell them anything, Joe, only keep cool before them; for they will not know how to get over a dignified demeanor, when they would not hesitate to knock you down if you called them hard names. My God, they are prying the door from its hinges! do you hear those shouts?"

"Do I?" cried Smith, his eyes flashing as he concealed within his vest a pair of pistols, and a bowie knife. "I do, and by the hand that made me their more than equal, if they do not desist, I am their man for the work they are at!"

Remember, you are a Prophet, the chosen messenger of the Lord, and act accordingly!" -- said Rigdon, as he in affright at the roused demon in Smith's nature, ran after him, as he strode out of the room to the door already sprung from its hinges, and unbarring it, flung it back, and stepped boldly out among the people, who retreated a few paces as he advanced forward, and sprang upon a pile of cordwood at the right, and in a frightened rambling way began his first sermon.

"Get down, Joe, and go to some honest labour! you can never make a preacher!" shouted a sedate old farmer near [by].

"I say, Joe, preaching is tougher work than making bogus aint it?" cried the beau of the neighborhood, whose sally was greeted by a shout of laughter.

"Hallo, money-digger, I want to know if the angel found that bar of gold I gave you twenty dollars for? Because if he has not, I think you and your angel are a pack of swindlers," continued one of his old cronies.

"Go [to] it, Joe, and tell us about your gold Bible!" yelled another, who enjoyed the evident trepidation of the aspirant for oratorical honours.

"Yes, Smith, tell us about the gold Bible, what is in it, and what the angel told you to do with it, and how it came where you found it," shouted Rigdon encouragingly. "We rather doubt your sincerity, if you cannot tell us about it," he continued, as he saw Smith was still embarrassed and frightened.

"This is blasphemous impiety! How dare you, a strolling forger, thief and vagabond, raise pretensions to such a mission? Have we not known you from your youth up? and do we know one act of good or rectitude in all these long years? Take the advice of an old man, Joe; break away from the idle vagabond life, and become a man!"

"Who made you, frail mortals, judges over the actions of your Maker?"

cried Smith passionately, as his chest heaved, and his eye flashed with the volcano of passion ignited by their taunts and bitter sarcasms. "If the great God who sees the hearts of all men, and measures the iniquity he sees therein, not by an erring eye, but meets out justice with a hand that cannot err -- with a decision that cannot be gainsayed, shall frail man raise his feeble hand against his Maker, because he has not been chosen to fulfill the mandates of Jehovah, instead of one he, in his short-sightedness, deemed less holy than himself? If God has forgiven all sin, and purified the soul, so that He deems it worthy to hold converse with him at the foot of his throne, does it become His creatures to turn from him with scorn as if they feared contamination from what their Creator had sanctified. Look into your own hearts and search out -- "

"Bah! Smith! you are getting into too deep water; tell us about the vision and Bible! we want facts, as we are capable of drawing our own deductions," said one of the audience near him.

Smith was now perfectly self-possessed, and looked down upon the crowd around him with a bold unquailing eye, from which shot looks of scorn and defiance, and he appeared the avenger to perfection. Many in the auditory he saw at glance he had subdued by his burning sarcasms, and he now changed his policy at the command of others.

"It is but little that I can tell you," he began in a subdued

tone. "Four years ago, while alone, two singularly beautiful personages appeared to me, and announced themselves as messengers from the throne of God, sent to reveal to me that I had been chosen to make known to men the errors of their faith -- a faith which was offensive in the sight of God -- and teach them the truth of the plan of salvation, which had been lost for ages through the stubborn willfulness of man. I had long been troubled in my mind at the sinfulness of my own heart before that hour; but no sooner did these messengers announce to me the mission I was to fulfill, than all doubts ceased, and I felt, my heart, rising in adoration before my Maker. A few days passed, when I began to feel that I was past sinning -- pride entered my heart, and I gloried not at the good I should accomplish, but at the honour and fame my mission would bring me. Then I began to be again miserable, when the angels re-appeared, who chided me for the wickedness of my thoughts, forgave them, and then told me that the records of the Lost Tribes of Israel were buried in the hill of Cumorah, where they were deposited fourteen hundred years ago by Moroni, the son of the Prophet Mormon, having previously engraved them on plates of gold, the Prophet, Mormon assuring his son Moroni that, after the lapse of fourteen hundred years, a Gentile nation should recover them, and, through the truth of their prophecies, be turned to the true worship of God. The angel gave me the directions by which I

could find the spot indicated, and with joy I hastened to lay bare the holy treasure. On the west side of the hill, where the storms of ages had beaten against it, I dug down by the side of an immense rock, where, below the surface about two feet, I laid bare a square marble box, so firmly cemented that water could not penetrate its interior. At the sight of the box, I knelt in prayer and adoration to the great Jehovah, and my heart was melted by divine love. With reverence, I laid my hand on the lid, when it flew open by an invisible hand, and beneath I saw plates of shining gold, covered over with strange characters, and on the tops of these lay two thick glasses set in a rim of gold. At the sight of the golden plates my heart became steeled by avarice, and I resolved to use the gold; but no sooner was the thought, born in my heart, than an invisible hand struck me to the earth, and the ground gathered over the box and its contents. The air became filled with whispering voices, while cloud-like forms flitted around me. Ever and anon balls of fire hissed above me, while fiery serpents shot athwart the sky, and the sun paled in their fiery light. These died away, when the hosts of heaven with their golden chariots and myriads of purified spirits, led on by the Patriarchs and Prophets, passed before me, among whom, Mormon, the last of the prophets, paused and addressed me thus:

"Take heart, Oh Joseph: for in thee shall the Prophecies

be fulfilled; and thou shalt, if thou overcomest the evil in thine own heart, reign among us."

"The words of Mormon comforted me; and when this procession had passed, darkness fell around, and groans and shrieks filled the air. Trembling with affright, I looked around, and, approaching, I saw Satan and his fiends amidst clouds of flame, the smoke of which rolled high as the heavens. And as they drew near and encompassed me, while cries and blasphemies rent the air, I threw myself in the dust and besought aid from the great Jehovah. A moment passed, when a rushing sound, as of many winds was heard, and Satan fled before the angel who stood before me, crying:

'Arise, Oh, Joseph! chosen Prophet of the Lord who delighted in thee, inasmuch as thou hast turned to him, and scorned the evil! arise and go thy way, for, notwithstanding thou hast sinned in thy heart, when thine eyes beheld the word which was shown thee, thou shalt yet abide four more years in the world before thou shalt possess it. Go thy way and sin no more!' With these words he left me, and I returned sorrowing to my home. Did you know all the bitterness and sorrow I have borne during these four years, you would think more leniently of me now, for there was time enough for me to reflect upon the glorious mission I had delayed by the sinfulness of my heart and to fortify it against a repetition. Four

years to a day, the angel appeared to me, while in the field at work and said:

"'Arise! beloved of the Lord! and bring forth the word of thy God, and proclaim it to the world!'

As I, at the command, went forth, the heavenly messenger went before me, and stood over the place where it was entombed, and when I had thrown out the earth, the lid of the marble casket flew open of itself, and there as I had seen it before, were the precious contents. At that moment my former sin rushed over my mind and with fear and trembling I prostrated myself in the dust, while drops of sweat wrung by the agony of fear that I should again sin, gathered over me, as I cried:

'Get hence, ye powers of darkness, I know ye not.' -- Then the angel fanned me with a wave of his wing, and smiling benignly, raised the treasure and placing it in my arms, said:

Go, proclaim it to the world for thou hast been found worthy, and He that sent thee, will fill thy mouth with wisdom, whereby thou shalt found a congregation of true worshippers here below!"

As he ceased speaking, he disappeared, find I was alone: but not alone in spirit, for the comforter was with me. The things I teach were given me to proclaim, and who among you will dare raise his voice against the command of Jehovah? Who shall dare dictate to his Maker. the instrument He shall use for the furtherance of the

glory of His kingdom? He that has the hardihood, let him go up to battle against the host of heaven; as for me, I must do my Lord's bidding."

So saying, with a haughty wave of his hand, he sprang to the ground, and entered the house, while the wrapt, silent, abashed audience, with the exception of a few, quietly dispersed, astounded at the impious audacity of his harangue.

"I never, never heard such a sermon in my life," said Rigdon, as he followed him in. "Now, tell me in fact, Smith, did you ever have a vision in your life? -- ever see any of those things you said you did?"

Smith gave a glance of astonishment at his follower, but made no reply. He began to like the role he was playing. The wrapt attention with which his story had been received, the ease with which he had subdued a taunting sarcastic auditory, fed the love of power that was inherent in his nature.

"There was nothing in it of any importance that resembled the "Manuscript Found," and where you got the rest, I am at a loss to know," continued Rigdon, who was now really perplexed, it never entering into his dull brain that a fertile imagination could weave from its hoarded store such a chain of impostures.

"Rigdon," said Smith solemnly, as he turned his eye searchingly upon him to ascertain how such an assertion would be received. "The 'manuscript' I received from

your hands, was found by Spaulding as it professes to be, and throws some light on what was shown to me, as have this day proclaimed. It is, however, of little importance to me; yet I propose to retain it yet for a season to compare with the records in my possession."

I believe so, myself" returned the dupe, "for it sounds too much like truth to be false. No human mind, without the aid of inspiration, could write like that. While you were preaching to-day, I felt in my heart you were inspired, for no one could, the first time, preach as you did, without the aid of ministering angels to put the words in his mouth!"

Flattered by the dupe, Smith became elated by his success, and assumed towards his family a bearing commensurate with his new-born dignity.

(Remainder of 1855 U. S. reprint of Belisle's text not transcribed.)

J E S S I E,


THE  MORMON'S  DAUGHTER.



A  TALE  OF  ENGLISH  AND  AMERICAN  LIFE.


BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE BLUE DWARF."



_______________

P R O F U S E L Y   I L L U S T R A T E D.
_______________


LONDON.
EDWARD  HARRISON,  EXETER  CHANGE;
AND  ALL  BOOKSELLERS.

[1861]

_______

CHAPTER XX.

AN INDIAN FIGHT.

_______

CHAPTER XXI.

THE BLOCK-HOUSE.

N a deep, secluded valley, through which meandered a small river towards the lake, was a block-house of considerable extent, which had been erected some years back by Captain Simon Reardon.

It was situated where the river took a bend, almost meeting at one point.

Except a narrow strip, guarded by a gate, the block-house was on an island.

Captain Simon Reardon was an inveterate hunter, and at the same time an enthusiast with regard to the history of the ancient Indians.

As the axe of the hardy pioneer cleared, and the ploughshare turned up, the earth of the valley, he


 

                          JESSIE,  THE  MORMON'S  DAUGHTER.                         33



fell constantly upon the remains of America's past history, as connected with her cherished hearthstones and sacred groves, spots hallowed by noble deeds, and the graves of a lost nation.

Numerous skeletons, jars of earthenware, thin sheets of brass, covered with hieroglyphics, turned up, and the delight of the recluse was great,

He collected a perfect museum of curiosities

Then came a pale, anxious, inquiring youth, called Solomon Spaulding, whose whole soul was given to the elucidation of the history of his native country. With him it was a passion which knew no bounds. He examined the old man's museum with care, and then, fired, inspired by all he saw around, himself a religious enthusiast, he began to uncoil, page by page, and leaf by leaf, a wild, visionary romance, intended to explain the advent of the first race of human beings in America.

This book he read evening after evening to the old man and his daughter.

Captain Reardon was delighted, and in the exuberance of his feelings promised his daughter in marriage to the young enthusiast.


 

34                       JESSIE,  THE  MORMON'S  DAUGHTER.                            

Little did he imagine by what strange means he was laying the foundations of a new religion,

Now, Solomon Spalding was a sedate book-worm, a man in whose eyes a woman was very well as a useful piece of furniture, but not a being to devote your whole soul to -- yes, such, fair readers, was his idea when first he saw her.

But all flesh is weak, and before he had been in the block-house a month, he loved Emma with all the energy of a simple and generous heart.

Alas! Emma was a girl full of health and spirits, far better desposed for a frolic than for study; better suited to a tramp through the woods, a tiger hunt, or a night's salmon spearing, than to mend a scholar's shirts or nurse his children.

Emma was as wild and as free as a colt. 

Still, having never seen any other man save him and her father, she had not revelled against the decision which made her the student's wife, and she even submitted to his embrace; allowed him to call her his love; and even was herself a little tender -- in fact, did all kinds of foolish things which lovers will understand without our description, and which no description will convey to the mind of any one else.

Now, Solomon had fallen sick; and in the goodness of her heart Emma had gone up the lake to fetch some simple medicines which his case required.

The captain sat by the fireplace in his huge kitchen, cleaning his rifle, while Solomon, pale, cadaverous, and gaunt, despite his illness was poring over and correcting his wild and singular manuscript.

It was evening, and though the bold Emma had not yet returned, they did not feel in any way uneasy. They were used to her wanderings, and then, nothing had been seen of red skins for some days. Be it remarked, that with all their reverence for the early Americans, they had a most wholesome dread of their descendants. 

When the sun had fallen beneath the horizon some two or three hours, the vetern raised his head.

"I say, Solomon, little Em should be here,"

"Yes -- as thou sayest," replied the solemn young man.

Alas! solemnity and virtue, and even seldom solid moral qualities have much influence with the girls.

A blockhead with a smart pair of whiskers will out-weigh the thoughtful man of genius at any time.

The proverb, "That all is not gold that glitters." is little understood by women, who hence are such worshippers of ppwer.

There was a brief pause, during which the two men communed with their own thoughts. 

Then a wild shriek was heard, and the words of some one in mortal agony.

"Father! Father! come, or we shall surely be slain."

Vaptain Reardon flew to a terrace on the left side of the gateway, followed by several labourers and hunters attracted by the shriek; they at once understood the state of affairs.

Close to the stockade that instant halted Emma and the four white youths, while twenty yards behind came whooping, howling, and yelling, some fifty or sixty savages thirsting for their blood.

The white youths turned, levelled their rifles, and fired. At the same instant, a heavy volley from the terrace was poured into the Indians.

Then the gate flew open.

"I've been took," said the excited girl, embracing her father, "but these are my saviours."

"Welcome, my sons," cried the old man, warmly, as he closed the heavy gate.

And the serpent entered this new garden of Eden.

_______

CHAPTER XXII.

A SEIGE. -- A DELICATE NIGHT ADVENTURE.

_______

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE DELICATE NIGHT ADVENTURE CONTINUED.

_______

CHAPTER XXIV.

GERMS OF THE FUTURE.

_______

CHAPTER XXV.

A HAPPY HOME.

CHAPTER XL.

THE WHIRLPOOL.

CHAPTER XLI.

THE CAVE OF MORMON.

CHAPTER XLII.

THE VISITATION OF THE ANGEL.

                                THE  BOOK  OF  MORMON.                                17

18                                 THE  BOOK  OF  MORMON.                                

[3]



VILLAGE  SOUVENIR  AND  OTHER  POEMS.
_______

AMITY  ANNALS.
_______

Amity, a small but ancient village,
Stands on a hill surrounded by good tillage;
Its scope takes in extensive hills and plains.
Quite fertile with all the various grains:

Pastures will meet the eye wher'er you gaze,
Covered with flocks which in contentm't graze.
And in the evening ev'ry sheep-cot's full.
In shearing time great is the crop of wool
Of finest grade.

Since rebellion, in the state, for whiskey.
Each money-making farmer has been frisky;
Although conscience often made him squirm,
He found profit in the whiskey worm.

'Twas when the preachers took a social glass
The decanter round the room would pass;
Saw English cannon who thought it not a sin
To ask a blessing o'er a bottle of gin,
That shocked us much.

 

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4                                       AMITY  ANNALS.                                      

The perfume was a scent for all the food;
We Americans were not in pious mood;
Never prayed for product of the still;
Had fought it long with a determined will.
'Twas then our farmers, with their corn and rye,
Brought to distillers a full supply.
And when plenty crowned the harvest morn,
The still obtained the Indian corn --
The bane of man.

A faithful record of these hills and vales,
Recalls to mind valued historic tales.
Farms, the abode of comfort and of thrift.
Are seen at every point their grandeur lift.
'Tis long since we coukl recount their staples
Of wool, corn, and sugar from the maples.
More anxious was the farmer for the fleece
Than screeching wagon for the axle grease
On the dry hub.

The ten-mile creek, which wends its crooked way,
'Mid verdant hills, whose mighty crops of hay,
From year to year, adorn their space with stacks,

 

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                                      AMITY  ANNALS.                                       5

For barn-room the thrifty farmer lacks.
The creek quite rich in several kinds of fish,
Its bass and trout oft yield a dainty dish.
Socially the anglers' lips may pucker
Who gets gum-drops, the other a fish-sucker,
The first the best.

Small animals are found upon its banks --
Rabit, squirrel and muskrat swell the ranks.
Beaver, with Indian, passed away.
And others in the creek no longer play.
Let painter stand on bank with easel,
Paint them all, sure of the weasel.
The land and the amphibious tribes.
Nature's work appears, from pencil, free from bribes
That men may give.

If parson sought fleece in by-gone days,
'Twas but the meaner ones that met his gaze.
Unlike Gideon, he had no second test.
With fleece wet or dry, his family were blest.
Sad fact, both earth and fleece were often dry,
And prayer brought no manna from the sky.
Bread and water were always sure;
As good soldiers, harships endure
In camp or field.

 

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6                                       AMITY  ANNALS.                                      

Like poor laborers at hedge or ditch,
Or Goldsmith's village parson, very rich;
With salary of forty pounds a year.
Or larger, only sixty pounds appear.
Family may be four persons and a pony,
Which makes the financial way look stony;
As in the Saviour's day, each got his penny;
It would buy much, but grumblers were many,
Yet all lived well.

High in rank stood the Presbyterian parsonage,
New, like an infant in its early age,
'Twas then occupied by Bro. Harbison,
Pleading all things by the decrees were done;
Nor thought they once to change confession,
Or dare speak of it in church or session.
Those were days of sterling orthodoxy;
Heresy was like Herod, mean and foxy,
To be shunned.

But on our second visit to that charge,
To occupy, came invitation free and large.
And moderate rent -- an offer gladly seized;
Against Methodists all were then appeased.
In that summer company went to war.
And many a social prospect felt the jar;

 

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                                      AMITY  ANNALS.                                       7

A mar to all the plans of cliarch and home;
For freedom's sake o'er southern roads they roam
With stars and stripes.

About that day arrives at parsonage
One to make record in a coming age;
Who now signs checks for a great, ruling firm:
Greatness has fruit -- at first 'tis bud or germ;
The world stands ready any to applaud
Who gain position by valor, industry or fraud:
Earth in loud chorus swells the great well done,
And tempest wafts it high toward the sun,
God may be there.

The minister is not there, but labors on
For God and man, that they may both be one,
In hopeful view of building up the cause,
Yet tempting bribes would still suggest a pause.
True to history is the confession,
Law tempted as lucrative profession;
Yet the ministry held in its embrace.
Men who for gain could not their steps retrace.
Or earthly fame.

 

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8                                       AMITY  ANNALS.                                      

'Tis five and thirty years since our first view
Of Amity, when to a door we drew;
A tall form met us, well advanced in years,
And dissipated all our anxious fears.
There were noble men in those early times,
And none more so than brother Immes;
A friend and counselor in time of need,
For a young minister was apt to plead
For his mistakes.

Soon we saw the fun'ral of a pastor;
The form was thin and looked like alabastor,
A long life -- o'er ninety years -- a ripe age;
His life is worthy of historic page.
For seventy years had borne the shepherd's crook,
Proclaiming truth from God's most sacred book.
A large concourse respects the man of God --
For beloved by all was pastor Dodd
For deeds of love.

The annals of the Presbyterian's search,
Can't find more faithful one in all the church.
The warriors must all lay down their well worn shields.

 

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                                      AMITY  ANNALS.                                       9

And others will soon occupy the fields.
At the sale of his choice, olden books,
We scanned them o'er with critical looks;
Obtained some from near reformation days,
And they've received our study and our praise,
And blessings were.

In his time Spaulding chose a pastime work,
'Twas not to write up the wicked harem of the Turk,
Nor little thought the mischief he would make,
Shaking society with a great earthquake,
By bringing back old patriarchal times,
With all their ignorance and social crimes;
Was lost like Cath'lics, in their breviaries --
Could not see outcome of his reveries
To curse the world.

No, he was innocent in the design;
Ne'er thought faith and morals to undermine,
How different from the truth he taught,
His work of fiction on the world has wrought:
In quiet cemetery he reposes,
While Mormon church the wicked plan discloses,
Proving to men the great calamity

 

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10                                       AMITY  ANNALS.                                      

From literary child of Amity,
A strange novel.

Historians from afar oft seek the tomb;
With vigor write as for the Mormon's doom;
The unfortunate grave received no care,
The flat stone slab has suffered by the wear
Of winter's frosts and summer's constant rains:
It cannot now be read with greatest pains.
When lirst we saw the name, could easily trace
The inscription which time since did erase.
We would restore.

The aphorism that "ignorance is bliss,"
For Spaulding proved not itself in this,
Because it gives to him a doubtful fame,
But innocence defends him from all blame.
At fancy's table offering votive,
Can't condemn him for lack of motive.
The Spaulding house -- that ancient corner frame --
Comes down to us with a romantic fame.
By men of note.

---

Old Amity Public House: Spaulding's home, 1814-16  (photo added to text)

 

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                                      AMITY  ANNALS.                                       11

There, preacher wrote many a strange vision,
Theories entitled to derision,
That he clothed in olden scripture phrases,
Like tree, Indian or woodman grazes,
To alure travelers in a wrong path,
Were not inspired by their cunning wrath;
They were dictates of fancy's magic spell,
Hoping romance might interest and sell
For his support.

'Twas when the village bore an ancient look --
Since then it has more modern aspect took;
Now seems as it were new created --
Houses built and old ones renovated;
Lost the appearance old and quaint --
'Twas taken from it by repairs and paint.
When we saw it back in fifty-eight.
It was gloomy -- in dilapidated plight.
And houses few.

Nor was there yet a lower Amity. --
Monied men were fearful of calamity;
Offered no loans to build the village,
Lest such should end in fiscal pillage.
When gold and silver came from their chests,
The farmer alone in judgment notes invests;

 

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12                                       AMITY  ANNALS.                                      

Keener than the city barber's razor,
Would take land and cattle from the grazer,
To his last suit.

'Tis not the work of Michel Angelo
On which our thoughts we now bestow;
Travelers may not think upon the cluster;
To compare them may appear but bluster.
Yet there's one house of stone and one of frame --
It was from thence the book of Mormon came;
The latter is entitled to some note,
But Mormon confidence will not promote,
Denied the plates.

There Spaulding lived when he wrote the book,
By Pittsburgh printer taken from the hook;
Rigdon, they say, conceived the scheme.
And made the book a prophet's theme,
And passes it on to the famous prophet --
Better have burnt it in valley of Tophet.
Romance -- reveries of Israel's tribes --
Mormons believe through ignorance or bribes.
Or baser trust.

---

Solomon Spalding  (1761-1816) -- photo added to text

 

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                                      AMITY  ANNALS.                                       13

In blasphemy they called it work of God,
Brigham, successor in his footsteps trod,
Throwing the ignorant into confusion --
Breaking domestic peace by delusion.
Noted robbers in their greatest pillage
Injured not like romance of this village.
For it destroyed chastity and home,
Teaching men in unforbidden paths to roam
Away from God.

They said were found by Smith on copper plates --
God's revelation of most ancient dates.
Mr. Spaulding was in very feeble health;
Wrote book for pleasure -- not for fame or wealth.
Mr. Miller, we've seen, lived to recent date;
He heard the manuscript, he would relate;
Remember'd well its striking features;
Told how God had dealt with erring creatures,
As the lost tribes.

He never claimed it was a book divine,
Like Joseph Smith; a new discovered mine
Of hidden plates, and treasures in the ground;
How Israel's ten tribes at last were found,

 

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14                                       AMITY  ANNALS.                                      

Aborigines of our own continent;
For a delusion he did not invent.
But cunning men saw profit in the theme,
And made a prophet to bear out the scheme
To profit them.

Sentences in book of Mormon, so old,
Fresh in his memory, were often told,
And we expected to enjoy the tale,
But put it off, until he pass'd the vale.
One lesson more upon procrastination --
Work to-day in lawful avocation;
As business men seize ev'ry opening chance
Their personal interests to enhance,
Gaining lucre.

Think how different was the early scene:
Some stand, others 'gainst the old porch lean,
Attentive list'ners to this book of chance,
Of the wandering tribes a queer romance.
Then think of crowd in temple at Salt Lake,
Listening in reverence for the prophet's sake:
Divinely sent they think their Joseph Smith,
When only superstition's sacred myth --
Bane of the age.

 

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                                      AMITY  ANNALS.                                       15

What can we say of this strange combination,
On land of promise and the tribe's salvation;
In blasyhemy, they called it work of God;
Brigham's successor in his footsteps trod,
Throwing the ignorant into confusion,
Breaking domestic peace by their delusion.
Noted robbers, in their great pillage,
Injured not like romance of this village --
A work so bad.

In work, Spaulding was an innocent factor --
Made way for America's great actor;
And Smith soon fell a victim to the mob,
In prison, with his life, gave up the job.
Soon came Young, a man of ruling power --
A Moses to them in their darkest hour,
To lead them through wilderness to rest;
From enemies who on their footsteps press'd,
Because of sin.

But let us now describe this noted house:
'Tis plain, like farmer in his jeans and blouse,
For rain and sun have made it crack and warp;
Winds have played it as an aeolian harp.
The roof has oft received new shingles,
Money supplied from where silver gingles;

 

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16                                       AMITY  ANNALS.                                      

Out of the farmer-broker's chests,
At eight per cent, he willingly invests;
Ten is better.

The only question, "is he a good man?"
Interrogation for many a plan,
A query at the entrance to the church,
Important one that bank officials search.
To know his assets, their breadth and length;
Pastors seek moral character -- its strength;
To turn from paths of sin, so often trod,
And scope for service in the church of God,
All his talent.

The pugilist seeks men to take the ring;
Physically the very best they bring.
Army, by its strong men, alone can thrive,
Under eighteen nor over forty-five.
Goodness may be in character or blood.
All who for God, and humanity have stood?
Yes, the men who in the passing ages
Have blessed society -- the sages --
With precepts true.

Who by their writings show a better life,
Giving force to conquer in the world's strife.

 

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                                      AMITY  ANNALS.                                       17

We forget the house in moralizing,
A fault in preacher not much surprising.
This famous building is two stories high;
No architectual forms to it apply.
'Tis changed in color by the faded paint,
Like weary traveler, is soiled and faint.
And ragged, too.

On the wide front the old style weather-board.
And the rear, clap-board only can afford.
One room, once occupied by secret lodge,
Yes, Odd or not, it's goat we now will dodge.
Another by Crispian, of size and fame,
In the village a well remembered name.
Taking for all a kindly word of news.
Drawing, like wax-end, [in his well made shoes.
Upper and sole.

His mental powers were almost equal
To his size, as you may learn in sequel;
He was not a man renowned for letters,
Yet original, he knew no fetters;
More free than those that occupied the stand,
His flights in exhortation were so grand;
The sentences came free -- he did not mutter --
There was a mighty power with Bro. Clutter,
Sublime and grand.

 

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18                                       AMITY  ANNALS.                                      



(remainder of text not transcribed)

Transcriber's Comments


Captain Frederick Marryat (1792-1848)

Solomon Spalding in
Nineteenth Century Fiction