THE LABOUR OF MY LIFE BEGUN:—HOW THE MORMON MISSIONARIES MADE CONVERTS.
In the afternoon I attended a meeting of a still more interesting
character. These Sunday afternoon meetings were held for the purpose
of receiving the sacrament, and the confirmation of those who had been
baptized during the week; they were intended exclusively for the Saints,
but for certain reasons I was permitted to be present.
The meeting was opened with singing and prayer, and then the presiding
Elder—Brother Cowdy—arose, and invited all those who had been baptized
during the week to come to the front seats. Several ladies and gentlemen
came forward, and also three little children. Upon inquiry I found that
children of eight years of age were admitted members of the Church by
baptism—which is administered by immersion. At that age they are supposed
to understand what they are doing; but before that, if of Mormon parents,
they are considered members of the Church by virtue of the blessing which
they received in infancy. Brother Cowdy—the presiding’ Elder—then called
upon two other Elders to assist him in the confirmation.
One of the ladies took off her bonnet, but retained her seat, when all
three of the Elders placed their hands upon her head, and one of them
said:—
“Martha; by virtue of the authority vested in us, we confirm you a member
of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; and as you have been
obedient to the teachings of the Elders, and have gone down into the
waters of baptism for the remission of your sins, we confer upon you the
Gift of the Holy Ghost, that it may abide with you for ever, and be a
lamp unto your feet, and a light upon your pathway, leading and guiding
you into all truth. This blessing we confirm upon your head, in the name
of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Then, before they took their hands off her head, the presiding Elder
asked the other two if they wished to say anything. Whereupon one of them
began to invoke a blessing upon the newly-confirmed sister. He spoke for
some time with extreme earnestness, when suddenly he was seized with
a nervous trembling which was quite perceptible, and which evidently
betokened intense mental or physical excitement. He began to prophecy
great things for this sister in the future, and in solemn and mysterious
language proclaimed the wonders which God would perform for her sake.
When we consider the excited state of her mind, and—if the statements of
psychologists be true—the magnetic currents which were being transmitted
from the sensitive nature of the man into the excited brain of the new
convert, together with the pressure of half a dozen human hands upon her
head, it is not at all astonishing that when the hands were lifted off
she should firmly believe that she had been blessed indeed. She had been
told that she should receive the Gift of the Holy Ghost; and she did not
for an instant doubt that her expectations had been realized.
Each of the newly-baptized went through the same ceremony, and then they
all partook of the sacrament, when, after another hymn, the meeting was
closed with prayer.
In the evening I returned, to listen to a lecture upon “the character,
spirit, and genius” of the new church, delivered by Elder Stenhouse;
and I was captivated by the picture which he drew of the marvellous
latter-day work which he affirmed had already begun. The visions of
by-gone ages were again vouchsafed to men; angels had visibly descended
to earth; God had raised up in a mighty way a Prophet, as of old, to
preach the dispensation of the last days; gifts of prophecy, healing,
and the working of miracles were now, as in the days of the Apostles,
witnesses to the power of God. The long-lost tribes of Israel were about
to be gathered into the one great fold of Christ; and the fulness of
the Gentiles being come, they, too, were to be taken under the care of
the Good Shepherd. All were freely invited to come and cast away their
sins, ere it was too late; and the fullest offers of pardon, grace,
sanctification, and blessing, in this world and in the next, were
presented to every repentant soul.
Surely, I thought, these are the self-same doctrines which my mother
taught me, when I knelt beside her in childhood, and which I have so
often heard—only in colder and less persuasive language—urged from
the pulpits of those whom I have ever regarded in the light of true
disciples of Jesus. Who can wonder that I listened with rapt attention,
and that my heart was even then half won to the new faith? The days
passed; and as I pondered over these things it appeared to me that I had
at last found that which I had so long earnestly desired and prayed for—a
knowledge of that true religion for which the Saviour presented Himself
a Holy Sacrifice, and which the Apostles preached at peril of their
lives—the _only_ faith, in which I might find joy and peace in believing.
But why should I dwell upon those moments, soul-absorbing as was their
interest to me _then_—sadly-pleasing as is their memory _now_! The reader
can see the drift of my thoughts at that time; and I feel sure, although
I have but hastily sketched the causes which brought about these great
changes in my religious belief and in my life, that he will not hastily
accuse me of fickleness and love of change, if he himself has fought the
battles of the soul, and has learned even in a slight measure to realize
the mystery of his inner being.
Each day the finger of destiny drew me nearer to the final step. The
young Elder, whose words I had listened to with such strange and, to
me, momentous results, was intimate with my father’s family, and called
frequently to see us, and before long he convinced me that it was my duty
to test for myself whether the work was of God, or not. In the agitated
state of my mind at that time, I could not withstand the earnest appeals
which were made to my affections and hopes; and within two weeks after
my arrival in England I became formally a member of the Church of Jesus
Christ of Latter-day Saints; or in more popular language—I became a
Mormon.
The day was fixed for my baptism. Several others were to be baptized
at the same time; for scarcely a week passed without quite a number
of persons joining the Church. For this purpose we all repaired to a
bath-house on the banks of the Southampton river. This place was not
perhaps the most convenient, and it certainly was devoid of the slightest
tinge of romance; but it was the only one available to the saints at that
time.
When we were all assembled and had united in singing and prayer, Elder
Stenhouse went down into the water first, and then two men went down
and were baptized, and came up again. Now came my turn. I was greatly
agitated, for I felt all the solemnity of the occasion. I had dressed
myself very neatly and purely, for I believed that angel eyes were upon
me; I wished to give myself—a perfect and acceptable offering—to my God,
and I was filled with the determination henceforth to devote my whole
life to His service.
As I went down into the waters of baptism, how thankful I felt that it
had been my privilege to hear the gospel in my youth, for now I could
give my heart in all its freshness to the Lord, before it had been
chilled by the cold, hard experience of life.
I descended the steps, and Elder Stenhouse came forward and led me out
into the water; then, taking both my hands in one of his, he raised his
other hand towards heaven, and in a solemn and impressive voice he said,—
“_Fanny; by virtue of the authority vested in me, I baptize you for the
remission of your sins; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of
the Holy Ghost. Amen._”
Then he immersed me in the water; and as I reascended the steps, I really
felt like another being: all my past was buried in the deep—the waters of
baptism had washed away my sins; and a new life lay open before me, in
which my footsteps would be guided by the inspired servants of God. All
now would be peace and joy within me, for I had obeyed the commands of
God, and I doubted not that I should receive the promised blessing, and
that now I could indeed go on my way rejoicing.
My baptism took place one Saturday afternoon, and the afternoon following
I was confirmed a member of the Church. Elder Stenhouse presided at the
meeting, and he, with Elder Cowdy, and two other elders, confirmed me. As
the “blessing” which I then myself received differs somewhat from the one
which I have already given, and as it is a very fair specimen of those
effusions, I present it to the reader in full.
Elder Stenhouse, Elder Cowdy, and the two other Elders, placed their
hands solemnly upon my head, and Elder Stenhouse said,—
“Fanny; by virtue of the authority vested in me, I confirm you a member
of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; and inasmuch as you
have been obedient to the command of God, through his servants, and have
been baptized for the remission of your sins, I say unto you that those
sins are remitted. And in the name of God I bless you, and say unto you,
that inasmuch as you are faithful and obedient to the teachings of the
priesthood, and seek the advancement of the kingdom, there is no good
thing that your heart can desire that the Lord will not give unto you.
You shall have visions and dreams, and angels shall visit you by day and
by night. You shall stand in the temple in Zion, and administer to the
Saints of the Most High God. You shall speak in tongues, and prophecy;
and the Lord shall bless you abundantly, both temporally and spiritually.
These blessings I seal upon your head, inasmuch as you shall be faithful;
and I pray heaven to bless you; and say unto you—_Be thou blessed_, in
the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
After the meeting, I received the congratulations of all the Saints
present, and more particularly those of my own family. My dear mother and
father were overjoyed; and I now learned how anxious they had been, and
how they had feared that I should return to France and reject the faith
of the new dispensation. Altogether we were very happy.
Elder Stenhouse and Elder Cowdy returned home with us to tea, and
afterwards we all attended the usual evening lecture. In this way was
passed one of the happiest days of my life—one which I shall ever
remember;—and yet that memory will always be mingled with regret that so
much love and devotion as I then felt were not enlisted in a better cause.
Thus began a new era in my life. All my former friends and associations
were now to be remembered no more; my lot was cast among the Saints; and
in the state of my mind at that time, I believed that I should be happy
in my new position, and resolved to give evidence of the sincerity of my
faith.
The untiring energy and restless activity of Elder Stenhouse was ever
before our eyes, and inspired all who associated with him with a similar
enthusiasm. There were no drones in that hive. The brethren, at a word
from him, would roam the country, teaching and preaching in the open air,
while the sisters would go from house to house in the city, distributing
tracts about the new faith. I caught the enthusiasm of the rest, and was
soon in the ranks with the other sisters, as devoted in my endeavours as
a young, ambitious heart could be. I was indeed like one born again from
an old existence into a new life. I felt grateful and happy—I began to
dream of the eternal honour which crowns a faithful missionary life; and
I soon found an ample field for testing my fitness for that vocation.
At the time of which I speak, the Primitive Methodists in England were
doing a great work in the way of converting sinners. Their missionaries
were zealous and devoted men, though generally poor and uneducated.
They resembled very closely the Mormon elders in their labours; and,
in fact, a very large number of the leading Mormons had been Methodist
local-preachers and exhorters; and the greater number of the new-born
Saints had come from that denomination with their former teachers, or
else had followed them soon after.
The change from Methodist to Mormon was, in course of time, very strongly
marked; but for a considerable period the same, or what seemed the same,
influences were at work among the people. Remarkable scenes of excitement
were often witnessed at the “love feasts;” and from the “anxious seats,”
as they were called, might be heard, the entreaties of self-accusing
souls, frightened by a multitude of sins, crying earnestly, nay, wildly,
for grace, mercy, and the Holy Ghost; while many of the supplicants
would fall upon the ground, completely overcome by nervous excitement.
Then they would have visions, and beheld great and unutterable
things; received the forgiveness of their sins; and, coming back to
consciousness, believed themselves now to be the children of God, and new
creatures; doubting not that they would ever after be happy in the Lord.
The experience of the Saints at their meetings, when Mormonism was first
preached, was exactly similar to this. Into the psychological, moral, or
religious causes of these scenes of excitement I cannot here enter;—I
simply mention facts as they came under my own observation.
The Mormon Missionary often came upon whole communities in the rural
districts of England, where this “good time” was in full operation; and
being a man of texts he would follow up the revival, preaching that the
spirit of the prophet was subject to the prophet, and not the prophet
subject to the spirit. Controversy would arise, and his appeal to
Scripture, literally interpreted, was almost invariably triumphant. Even
in America, especially in New York and Ohio, the same causes produced the
same effects. It was after his mind was excited by a general revival near
his native place, that Joseph Smith, the founder of Mormonism, received
his first religious impression, and saw, as he asserted, his first
angelic vision. His followers, even in the early days of the Church, had
revival-meetings and meetings at which the most extraordinary excitement
was manifested,—when the Saints fell into ecstatic trances, saw heaven
opened, and spake with tongues. But Joseph, shrewd man as he was, albeit
“a prophet,” when he found too many rival seers were coming into the
field, announced by “special revelation,” that these too-gifted persons
were possessed by devils, and that their visions and prophesyings must be
at once suppressed. And he did suppress them.
Not long after my own baptism I was present at a meeting of this
description, in Southampton. It was called a “testimony meeting,” and was
held in a large upper room situated, if I rightly remember, in Chandos
Street. No one from the outside would have supposed that it was the place
of assembly of the Saints, for it was generally used for ordinary secular
meetings, and I have heard that great objections were at first raised as
to the propriety of letting it to the Mormons.
As we entered the door, we were saluted by Brother Williams, who
expressed great pleasure at seeing us. There was a full attendance of
the Saints, and every face wore an expression of peaceful earnestness. A
person who has never attended a Mormon meeting can form no idea of the
joyous spirit which seemed to animate every one present. I am not, of
course, speaking of modern meetings, but of meetings as they used to be.
Whence and whatever that “spirit” might be which moved the sisters and
brethren when they met in early times, I cannot tell; but I, and with
me, ten thousand Mormons and seceding Mormons in Utah, can, from our own
experience, testify that _that_ spirit no longer visits the Tabernacle
services over which Brigham Young presides, or the meetings of the Saints
since they adopted the accursed doctrine of polygamy, and forsook the
gentle leadings of their first love.
Often have I heard Mormons of good standing and high position in the
Church, lament the “good old times” as they called them, when the
outpouring of the Spirit was so abundant, and mourn over the cold, barren
services of the present day. But the elders explain this away. It is,
they say, the fault of the people themselves, and because their own
hearts have become cold.
At the meeting of which I speak, that happy spirit was peculiarly marked.
An encouraging smile, or a kind word, greeted me on every side, and, as a
newly-converted sister, I received the most cordial welcome. The brethren
were seated on forms and chairs and any other convenient article which
came to hand, while at the further end of the room was Brother Bench, who
was to preside, and with him several other leading Elders. Brother Bench
gave out a suitable hymn.
The whole congregation joined in the singing, and every heart seemed
lifted up with devotion. Then another Elder rose, and offered a
spirit-moving prayer; and then the brother who presided stated that for
the time he withdrew his control of the proceedings, and, as the phrase
was, he “put the meeting in the hands of the Saints,” exhorting them not
to let the time pass by unimproved.
Then arose Brother Edwards, a well-tried champion of the faith, and to
him every one listened with profound attention, eagerly drinking in his
every utterance. I could almost, even now, imagine that he was really
inspired. _Then_ I firmly believed he was. His voice thrilled with an
earnestness which seemed to us something more than the mere excitement of
the soul. A burning fire seemed to flash from his large, expressive eyes;
his features were lighted up with that animation which gives a saint-like
halo to the earnest face when fired with indignation or pleading
soul-felt truths; while his whole frame seemed to glow with the glory
of a land beyond this earth, as in the most impressive and convincing
language he reminded us that our sins had been washed away by the waters
of baptism, that upon us had been poured the gifts and graces of the
Spirit, and that it was our sacred privilege to testify of these things.
The effect of this exhortation was magical. We forgot all our outward
surroundings, in the realization that the great work of the Lord was
so gloriously begun, and that it would surely go on, conquering and to
conquer. One sister—an elderly woman—who was present, unable to control
her emotion, burst out with that Mormon hymn which I have heard some
old Nauvoo Saints declare produced upon the people in those days an
enthusiasm similar to that which moves the heart of every true Frenchman
when he listens to the soul-stirring notes of the Marseillaise:—
The Spirit of God like a fire is burning!
The latter day glory begins to come forth;
The visions and blessings of old are returning,
The angels are coming to visit the earth.
We’ll sing and we’ll shout with the armies of heaven,
Hosannah! Hosannah to God and the Lamb,
All glory to them in the highest be given
Henceforth and for ever: Amen, and Amen.
I have often heard in magnificent cathedrals, hoary with the dust of
time, and in vast places of amusement dedicated specially to music and to
song, the outpouring of that glorious vocal flood, which a chorus of a
thousand well-trained singers can alone send forth. I have felt sometimes
that entrancing state of ecstasy which thrilled the soul of the seer in
Patmos, as he listened to the melody of the angelic throng—“the voice of
many waters, and the peal of mighty thunders, and the notes of harpers
harping upon their harps;” but never, even when surrounded by all that
was best calculated to produce a sentiment of devotion in my mind—never
did I experience so rapt a feeling of communion with “the armies of
heaven”—as I felt in that unadorned meeting-room, surrounded by those
plain but earnest and united people.
Nor was I alone in this. The feeling was contagious. There was not one
present who did not sympathize. And thus, I suppose, melody has always
played a prominent part in all religious revivals, whether of divine or
human origin. The Apostles had their psalms, and hymns, and spiritual
songs; the Martyrs their _Te Deum_; the Waldenses made the hills and
vales of Piedmont vocal with their singing; the Lollards and Hussites had
their melodies; and in more modern days the followers of Luther, Wesley,
and (may I add?) Joseph Smith, have poured out the fulness of their souls
after the same fashion.
The last notes of the hymn had scarcely died away when another, and then
another brother, arose and bore testimony to the great work, told what
the Lord had done for them personally, told of their zeal for the faith,
and fervently exhorted all present to persevere unto the end. Again
prayer was offered, another hymn sung, and the Saints were dismissed with
a solemn benediction.