HELP FROM THE LORD

By C.

MISSION IN ILLINOIS WHEN A BOY—ATTEMPT OF A DEACON TO PUT ME TO SHAME—OPEN MY BIBLE TO THE PASSAGE REQUIRED—PROVE OUR POSITION CORRECT FROM THE SCRIPTURES—BEFRIENDED BY AN INFIDEL—PREACHER'S ASSAULT ON THE "FROGS"—THE "FROG" REPLIES.

In the year 1845, I was appointed on a mission from Nauvoo, to labor about Cass County, Illinois, in company with Theodore Curtis.

After traveling together we concluded to separate, and I continued alone, preaching wherever an opportunity presented itself.

One evening I was approaching a little town called Virginia, foot-sore and weary, having been frequently denied food.

I retired, as was my wont particularly when so impressed, for prayer, and for God to soften the hearts of those I might meet, to give me shelter, food and rest, and finally to open up my way.

Towards evening I found a number of persons congregated at the country store. I saluted them with "Good-evening," and inquired the opportunity of getting a chance to preach in that place.

I carried the badge of a "Mormon" preacher in my hand, namely, a small round valise, containing a shirt, change of socks, Bible and hymn book. I was soon assured by one or two that there was no earthly show for a "Mormon" preacher to be heard in that place.

I replied, "I would like to preach in that nice, newly-finished meeting-house just opposite." A man spoke up quite authoritatively, and said that no "Mormon" should preach in that house, which had just been dedicated—I think for Presbyterian worship.

They termed this man the deacon. This produced considerable talk, for many of the crowd were of what is termed the liberal or infidel persuasion, so much so that the deacon was overwhelmed by argument, shame and reproach, for refusing a boy like me a chance to preach.

To cover his shame and to nonplus me, he remarked, "I have heard say that your preachers are pretty apt with the scriptures, and can produce almost any doctrine you like from the Bible." I replied that the men were, but that I was but a boy; yet I thought I knew a little of the scriptures.

He remarked "Your people believe in laying hands on the sick; don't you?"

I answered that we did, and because Christ had said in His remarkable commission to His apostles, that this was one of the signs following, quoting Mark xvi, 15-18. I also quoted James v., 14.

"Yes, yes;" says he, "that is all very good, but that says only once, and your Elders sometimes lay hands twice in succession on the same person. Whoever heard of Jesus or the apostles doing anything like that?" He then cited an instance where, as he said, Joseph Smith had done this in administering to a sick woman.

The good-natured excitement was intense. The deacon thought I was overwhelmed, and proposed that if I could prove a similar transaction from the scriptures, I might preach in that house that very night.

Eagerness now seized the men, and the deacon chuckled over his presumed victory, and boasted of his acquaintance with the "Blessed Word."

I unbuckled my valise, drew forth my little Bible, and opened it intuitively to this passage in Mark viii., 22-25: "And he cometh to Bethsaida; and they bring a blind man unto him, and besought him to touch him. And he took the blind man by the hand, * * * and put his hands upon him, and asked him if he saw aught. And he looked up, and said, I see men as trees, walking. After that he put his hands again upon his eyes, and made him look up: and he was restored, and saw every man clearly."

The reading of this scripture; the sudden finding of it, for I was led to it as clearly as a man leads his horse to the water; its aptness and conclusiveness, accompanied by the jeers of the infidel portion of the crowd, mortified the deacon—he was discomfited.

I remarked that I would, according to the deacon's terms, preach in the church that evening, provided some one would find candles. The candles were instantly offered, and accordingly, I preached with power and the demonstration of the Spirit.

After the close of the services, I found a resting place with one of the most avowed infidels of the neighborhood, who had listened to the talk between the deacon and myself, and who particularly enjoyed the good man's discomfiture. By his persuasion I staid some time in the neighborhood, occupying occasionally the school-house.

He even proffered me some land to build me a house if I would stay, preach and teach school; but my mind was bent on returning to Nauvoo.

But one evening, when I had been preaching my intended farewell sermon in the closely-packed school-house, and just at its close, a person arose and said that, God willing, he would deliver a discourse there the next Sunday, and expose the "Mormon" delusion, giving his announcement all the force and emphasis possible.

My friends gathered at my place of stopping, and, joining with my host, prevailed upon me to stay. The word was given out that I had gone to Nauvoo.

At the time appointed a great crowd had convened—time, early candle-light.

I arrived late, purposely. My friend and I took seats near the door.

The preacher, after preliminaries, opened the Bible, and, for his text, read the 13th and 14th verses of the 16th chapter of Revelations.

After dilating upon the swampy nature of the soil contiguous to Nauvoo, styling it a good place for frogs, and facetiously comparing it to the "mouth of the dragon," he came down heavily on the "false prophet," the miracles, etc. It was a most scathing rebuke on "Mormonism."

His final peroration was on the habits of the frogs, which, while no footsteps were heard, croaked and croaked, but at the first sound of an approaching footstep, dodged their heads beneath the water. "So," said he, at the same time rising to the sublime hight of his oratory, "where, oh where is the frog that croaked here a day or two ago? Gone to that slough of iniquity, Nauvoo, the seat of the dragon and the false prophet. Why has he fled? Because he heard the footsteps of your true shepherd." After much interlarding, he dismissed by prayer.

I immediately arose and said that the frog was there yet, and would croak once more, naming the time.

Shouts from the audience named that same evening as the time, and the reverend preacher, amid jeers, cheers and cries of, "Give the boy a chance!" made for the one door.

My friend was alive to the emergency, and I, nothing loth, opened a fusilade from I. Timothy, 4th chapter, while the preacher was hemmed in by the crowd, and my friend with his back to the door.

After an exhaustive testimony of the work, we all departed, some pleased, some chagrined.

In both of the instances here narrated, the opening of the Bible to the apt and confirmatory passages, were then to my mind clearly the answer to prayer, for if ever previously read they had escaped my memory.

How much good I did on that mission, I cannot guess. One thing I do know, as a general rule not many are truly converted by the clamor of crowds, or the frenzy of debates.

My object in giving these two instances is to incite my young brethren to a study of the scriptures, the necessity of earnest secret prayer, and confidence in the promise that at the hour and time God will help them, and bring them off victoriously.

Great care must be taken to give God the glory in your after prayer, "for no flesh can glory in his sight."

Enconiums should produce humility, lest we be puffed up, and, in an after time, display our complete nothingness.