"Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every
creature."--_Mark 16:15._
Hr. Henrik Bogstad leaned back in his chair before the fire in great
relief. He had just shown out a young man who was distributing religious
tracts dealing with some "new-fangled religion" lately imported from
America, that land of all new-fangled things. All the day, Hr. Bogstad
had been adjusting some difficulties among his tenants, and that evening
he was somewhat ill-humored. His treatment of the missionary, was,
therefore, harsher than he was wont to treat either strangers or
friends.
His conscience smote him a little as he thought of what the young
American had said. He could find no fault with the religious doctrines
advanced, but why should he be bothered with religion anyway? He had
cares enough; for a great responsibility had come to him since he had
been put in charge of the estate left by his father's death. Just now
was the season of gaiety in Christiania, and here he was missing a good
many things by his enforced visit to his country home.
After musing for some time, he got up and went to the window. Outside,
the snow covered everything--the fields, the roads, the frozen lake and
river. The houses were half hidden, and the pines on the hill bore up
great banks of snow. From the window the view was beautiful in its
solemn whiteness. From the white level of the distant frozen lake,
broken patches of brown protruded. These were the islands on one of
which Signe Dahl had lived. Henrik wondered what had become of her, and
where in the big America she had taken up her abode. He had heard that
she was well and happy, but further than that he had not set himself to
learn. Long ago he had put behind him philosophically his affair with
Signe. He had ceased to think of her as anything more than a sweet, yet
strange girl who could resist such an offer as he had extended to her.
As Henrik was looking out of the window, he saw the young stranger who
had visited him less then an hour ago, returning down the road. Just as
he was about to pass, Henrik hailed him and asked him to come in again,
meeting him at the door.
"Come in," he said; "I want to talk with you."
The missionary placed his grip on a chair and seated himself on another.
"I was somewhat cross with you when you called," said Henrik. "I don't
want you to think that I am rude, especially to strangers."
"I was not the least offended," smiled the other.
"I'm glad to hear it. Now I want you to tell me something about America.
I've never been there, though I expect to go some day. I have some
friends and a good many relatives over there. From what part do you
come?"
"I am from Wyoming."
"That's away out west, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Two uncles of mine live in Minnesota, but that's a long way from
Wyoming. Where are you staying here, for the night?"
"I am a traveling minister of the gospel and I stay wherever there is an
opportunity."
"Then you'll stay with me tonight. I am not much on religion, but if you
will mix a little information about America with your preaching, I shall
be pleased to listen to you."
These conditions were easily agreed to. So, after a good supper, the two
young men seated themselves comfortably by the shaded lamp on the
library table. The missionary spread out his book of views and explained
each of the pictures. He told of the great stretch of arid land in
western America, of the ranches, of the high mountains, of the fertile
valleys made fruitful by irrigation, and of the wonders of the great
Salt Lake.
"This is the Temple."
"Yes; and what is that for?"
The purposes of temples were explained.
"You say you baptize for the dead?" enquired Henrik, "How is that?"
"Well, as I was telling you when I called on you some time ago--"
"Pardon me, but I must confess that I did not pay enough attention to
what you said to remember. I was thinking about those quarreling tenants
of mine. Tell me again."
The other smiled good-naturedly, and did as he was asked. Henrik
listened this time, and was indeed interested, asking a good many
questions.
"Now, about the Temple," continued the missionary--"we believe that
every soul that has ever lived on the earth, that is living now, or that
will ever live must have the privilege of hearing this gospel of Jesus
Christ. There is only one name given under heaven by which men may be
saved, and every creature must hear that name. Now, the great majority
of the human race has never heard the gospel; in fact, will not hear it
in this life."
"Where, then, can they hear it?"
"In the great spirit world. Christ, when He was put to death went and
preached to the spirits in prison--those who were disobedient in the
days of Noah and were destroyed in the flood; and no doubt the saving
power of Christ has been proclaimed in that spirit world ever since.
Among those who hear, many will believe. They have faith, they repent of
their sins, but they can not be baptized in water for the remission of
their sins."
"No; of course not."
"And yet Christ definitely said that unless a man is born again of water
and of the spirit he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. What is to be
done?"
The listener, leaning over the table, merely shook his head.
"Paul speaks in I Cor. 15:29 of some who were baptized for the dead--and
that is a correct principle. The living may be baptized for the dead, so
that those who have left this world may receive the gospel in the spirit
world and have the birth of the water done for them vicariously by
someone in the flesh."
"This is strange doctrine."
"Temples are used for these baptisms. The Latter-day Saints are busy
tracing back as far as possible their lines of ancestry, and then they
are going into their temples--for they have already four of them--and
are doing this work for their dead. In this way is being fulfilled
Malachi's prediction that Elijah the Prophet should come before the
great and dreadful day of the Lord, 'and He shall turn the heart of the
fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their
fathers,' lest the Lord come and smite the earth with a curse. You will
find this in the last chapter of the Old Testament."
The lamp burned late into the night as these two men sat by it talking;
and the conversation was not, as one of them had planned, for the most
part about the land of America and its material opportunities.