CHAPTER XXI.

Rapid travelling—Auburn—Stage coach—Seneca Lake—Summer's sultry heat—Sudden change—Fierce tempest—Imminent peril.

Seneca, August 6th.

In our journey to this place, we had a practical illustration of the increased facilities and greatly accelerated movements of modern travelling. Having left New York on Wednesday evening, the fifteenth of July, at five o'clock, we found ourselves the next evening, before nine o'clock, at Auburn—a distance but little short of three hundred and fifty miles, which was passed over, omitting, in our reckoning, the time spent at Albany, Utica, and Syracuse, in about twenty-one hours.

I cannot now stop to notice the refreshing influence of the broad-swelling tide of the noble Hudson as we sailed up this stream—nor the picturesque aspect of the palisades—nor the more sublime features of the rugged and sombre highlands, throwing their dark shadows upon the moonlit waters below; neither can I now stay to tell you any thing of the improvements in the capital of the great empire state, nor of the improving aspect of the interior city, which stands, as it were, on the dividing line betweenEastern and Western New York—nor yet of the peculiarities of the rising town, which is the centre and the great emporium of the salt trade, and which has appropriated to itself the dignified name of the renowned city where the great Archimides met his fate. Passing by all these, with railroad speed, and all the varied beauties of a magnificent agricultural region, I hasten to give you some account of an adventure in which we found ourselves involved just before arriving at this place. The railroad is completed no farther than Auburn, from which place we were obliged to come on in a common stage coach. The morning was very hot and dusty, and our ride, although only about twenty miles, seemed long and tedious. The driver of our coach, in order to avoid the deep sand between Waterloo and Geneva, took the lake-road, which brought us on to the beach of the lake, about three miles from Geneva. From this point, on quite to the village, we keep along upon the circling margin of the lake, with the waters of the broad Seneca dashing up over the pebbly shore, almost laving with every returning surge the carriage wheels. Here too we see the whole expanse of the lake, which is about three miles wide, together with the beautiful farms that sweep away from the shores back into the country; and are also able to follow the long track of these far stretching waters many miles towards their head. Upon a noble and finely-elevated bluff of land which forms the shore and northwestern corner of this beautiful lake, the village of Geneva, with its colleges and churches, and stores and elegant residences, surrounded with gardens and embowered in shade, lies spread out in one noble panoramic view. We had reached the point where all this scene of beauty opened upon us. We thought we never saw the lake more placid—norall nature more quiet. Every thing seemed to be oppressed with the weight of the sultry and heated atmosphere. Immediately around us was a rural district, from the living features of which Thomson might have drawn all the pictures that make up one scene of hisSummer. A various group of herds and flocks were scattered around us. Some lay ruminating on the grassy bank; while others stood half in the flood, and "often bent to sip the circling surface." Deeper in the lake drooped the strong laborious ox "of honest front, which incomposed he shook;" and lashed from his sides the troublous insects with his tail. Not a breath of air seemed to shake a bough of the leafy elm, or spread a ripple over the glassy waters. But as we rode leisurely along the sandy beach, a little cloud seemed gathering over the lake, and now and then a faint gleam of lightning played with fitful and flickering blaze over its darkening fold. We had nearly reached the place of our destination, and were congratulating ourselves that we should be in the midst of our friends and under safe shelter before the shower reached us. But scarcely had we thought this, before the heavens began to gather blackness and the wind to rise and roar as though a tempest were coming. And indeed a tempest was coming; for scarcely five minutes had elapsed after the first visible indications of the coming storm before a perfect gale struck us. The waters of the lake were dashed into the wildest scene of agitation—the trunks, and band-boxes, and baggage began to be blown from the top of our coach, and chased along on the ground, "like a rolling thing before the whirlwind." And then the rain began to descend, and to rush into our carriage as though the water had been scooped up from the lake and poured upon us ina torrent. We had no time to fasten down the uprolled curtains of our coach; we had no time to protect ourselves in any way—our baggage was flying—our horses were frightened—our driver could hardly keep in his seat. And still the storm increased: the wind swept down in a narrow column from the head of the lake with all the fury of a tornado, and blew our horses and coach quite up against the fence, where the rain continued to come in upon us as though a water spout had broken directly over our heads. But this was not our greatest difficulty. Our carriage was now in a position in which it seemed impossible that it should not be upset. The wheels had already become entangled in the fence. One of the huge stakes of the fence was thrust into the window of our carriage which we could not remove, while the carriage itself was rocking, and nearly on its side. The horses all this time were floundering and jumping, and exceedingly restive; but the wind was so strong that they could not move forward. There were three ladies in the coach, of whom I had the care, besides my wife and children, and nurse. Never before did I so fully realize that I was held in the hollow of God's hand, as at this perilous moment. For at least five minutes there seemed to be but a hair's breadth between us and death. But we looked unto the Lord, and he delivered us. In a few moments the storm abated—the rain ceased—the dark clouds rolled away, and the sun came forth as bright and as lustrous as though no mist or dark thunder cloud had ever obscured his disk.

Sunday—Sacred worship—The sanctuary recalling youthful scenes—Early plighted vows at the table of the Lord—Retrospect—Mournful reflections—Change in the congregation—Mr. and Mrs. N—— The C——family—Col. T—— Village burial ground—C——The buried pastor—My mother—Palmyra—Early ministerial labours—Lyons.

Fairfield, Aug. 15th.

In theseGleanings by the Way, I have very little plan or method, but send you just what happens to interest me most at the time.

Perhaps there are no two places that we visit, after long years of absence, with so much interest asthe sanctuarywhere we first plighted our vows of allegiance at the sacramental table to Jehovah, and the old, shadedburial placewhere repose the ashes of many whom we knew and loved in early life. In my late excursion through Western New York, I was permitted to enjoy this pleasing, yet melancholy satisfaction. Upon the first Sunday of the present month, I was permitted to worship in the sanctuary where twenty-two years before I first knelt at the communion table to receive the consecrated symbols of my Saviour's dying love. As I stood within the rail of the altar andlooked around that sanctuary, a tide of thought rushed upon me, awakening in my mind varied and conflicting emotions.

The sacred place with its history called up some pleasing reflections. I could not but rejoice that "the truth as it is in Jesus," continued to be proclaimed there, and that the cross of Christ was perpetually held up as the sinner's only hope. I could not but rejoice to see the increase and prosperity of Christ's spiritual flock; the number of communicants having swelled fromfiftyto nearlytwo hundred. I could not but be thankful to remember how mercifully and kindly the Lord had led me through the wilderness for more than twenty years, and how unerringly he had fulfilled all his covenant promises!

But there were also painful reflections called up by what I saw before me. Remembering as I did that here, in this spot my covenant vows were pledged before high heaven, I could not but recollect how far I had fallen short of that entire consecration to God—that separation from the world, and supreme love for Christ, implied in those vows—I could not but recollect what poor returns I had rendered to that Saviour who had laid down his life for my redemption, to that merciful God

* * * * * * that sought meWretched wanderer, far astray;Found me lost, and kindly brought meFrom the paths of death away.

Since the hour I had first knelt at that altar to consecrate myself to the service of Jehovah, his covenant promises had been all verified. "Not one thing had failed of all the good things which the Lord my God had spoken concerningme." During all this period, "his loving kindness he had not taken away, nor suffered his faithfulness to fail." But amid all these unwearied displays of divine faithfulness, alluring me with the sweetness of spiritual joys, and rousing my dullness, as well as rebuking my waywardness with the chastenings of a father's rod, how often had I, like Israel of old, by spiritual declension, and worldly conformity "forsaken the Lord—provoked the holy one of Israel unto anger, and gone away backward!" Most overwhelming, indeed, would have been the review of the past, but for that voice of redeeming love which breathed from the altar on which lay the symbols of Christ's great sacrifice, saying—"the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." "If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, the righteous; and he is the propitiation for our sins."

The scene within that sanctuary also awakened other mournful reflections. A large congregation sat before me, but where were the individuals and families that twenty years before filled those pews? Only here and there amid the assembled congregation could be traced a familiar countenance. The great mass had gone! Some had undoubtedly left the place and removed to other parts of the country; but the majority of the senior members of the former congregation, had finished their probation and gone to the Spirit land! How solemn did the place seem as I stood and looked upon the mere handful now remaining of that large congregation that once filled this temple. There were four pews to which my eye was particularly directed.I recollected distinctly how they were occupied twenty years ago. Each of the families that sat in those pews were among the most respectable and influential people in the place. Regular as the Sabbath morn came, was Mr. and Mrs. N—— with their large and interesting family seen moving up the aisle in a dignified train and with looks of deepest seriousness towards their pew. He was for a long time one of the wardens of the church. He had filled some most important posts of civil duty, and enjoyed the esteem and respect of all. Mrs. N—— afforded in her whole life a most lovely specimen of consistent, dignified, matronly piety. So extensive were the charities of this family, that it might almost literally be said of them, that "they were eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame. They delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him,"—so that in truth wherever they went in the neighbourhood of their own home, "the blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon them; and they caused the widow's heart to sing for joy." But those venerable forms, those worthy characters, were no longer to be seen in that pew. Long since they had been borne to the place of the dead, and several of those children that used to sit by them, had also been laid by their side in the grave. Adjoining this pew, was another occupied by a family of great respectability and worth. The head of this family was one who filled a large space in the public mind, and for many years held a seat in the highest legislative council of the nation. I looked for him in that pew, but he was not there! he was numbered with the dead! I was wont to see amid that family group, a young beautiful blooming girl—the pride of her parents' hearts, but nowshewas not there! She had been married, andhad every thing around her that earth could afford to make one happy. But in the midst of all that was bright and lovely, consumption had fixed its deadly blight upon her, and nothing could rescue her from the grave.

I looked across the church to two other pews, their former occupants, though they were families that had been long residents in the place, and possessed great wealth and respectability, were gone. Not a single representative of either family remained in the congregation or the place. Mr. C——, the head of one of these families, was also long a warden of the church. They had a lovely daughter, who was an only child. I well recollect her appearance in the house of God. She was a delicate flower, and most tenderly was she nurtured by her affectionate parents. All their earthly hopes seemed to centre in her. No expense was spared in her education. Every advantage that was supposed calculated to refine her taste, cultivate and expand her intellect, embellish her manners, and fit her to shine in the world, was placed within her reach. She was indeed a lovely young being. She had already interested the affections of one every way worthy of her. He was highly educated—of an excellent moral character, and belonged to a family of great wealth, influence and respectability—the very family who occupied the other pew of which I am soon to speak. But strong parental affection, high personal accomplishments—the brightest prospects in life, and the warm attachment of a devoted lover, could not shield Susan from the power of disease, or the cold iron grasp of death. The long grass now waves over her grave, and her broken-hearted father lies by her side. Their large estate has beenscattered to the winds—and her mother resides in a distant part of the land a lonely widow.

I have already alluded to a fourth pew in this sanctuary, whose occupants I had some twenty years before so often seen in this place of worship. Col. T—— held a proud place among the distinguished and influential men in Western New-York. He possessed all which wealth and high standing and extensive influence can impart to secure to himself and family the most unalloyed earthly enjoyment. And I trust that he had something better than this, even that hope, which sheds light over the gloom and darkness of the grave. He and his family were regular attendants upon the service of the sanctuary. He had two sons whom he expected would inherit a portion of his property and perpetuate his name in the world. But the youngest to whom we have before alluded, did not long linger upon the shores of time, after he saw the object of his young affections torn from him and swallowed up in the grave. His only surviving brother, in the very midst of life, shortly followed him. And soon his father and his mother were laid by his side. This is a picture—a miniature picture of life! Thus doth "the fashion of this world pass away!" What solemn testimony was before me, that "all flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof as the flower of the field." How emphatic then did the words of the prophet seem—"The grass withereth, the flower fadeth; because the Spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it: surely the people is grass." Not only had the flock changed—but the pastor was also gone! He who had instructed my youth—who had led me to the Saviour—who had first broken to me the sacramentalbread, and given some of the first impulses to my preparation for the ministry—no longer stood before that altar—his voice was no longer heard in that sanctuary! A simple marble slab placed in the recess behind the pulpit, told the melancholy tale that he too had gone to the spirit land.

The account I have given you of my visit to this sanctuary, is so full of death I need scarcely take you to the village burial ground. It was a place, however, consecrated by the dust of too many dear friends for me to abstain from treading among its grass-covered and heaped hillocks of earth. This burial place, consisting of several acres of ground, enclosed by a neat pale, and shaded by shrubbery and trees, was located in the outskirts of the town, and at present, is seldom used for interments. A solitary walk amid its graves brought up a long train of recollections of the past. How mournful, yet how sacred did I find the satisfaction of brushing away the long grass that had grown over the spot where reposed the mouldered ashes of one who gamboled with me amid the sports of childhood's careless hour, and rushed onward at my side in life's joyous course till youth was ripening into manhood, and then the barbed arrow of death met him, and he fell like a young, vigorous, foliage-clad tree, struck by heaven's bolt, in all the freshness of his existence! How mysterious and inscrutable did the ways of Providence appear to me as I trod down the tall weeds that had grown up around the grave of one who had been associated with me during a portion of my academical life, and who looked forward to the same profession with myself! C—— had one of the warmest and most amiable hearts that ever beat withinthe human bosom. He had faults of character, but they were all counterbalanced and lost amid the many excellencies that distinguished him. He had long contended with poverty and discouragements of various kinds, in order to press his way towards the sacred ministry. After years of toil, and sacrifices of every kind, when he had just reached the goal, and was to be invested with the ministry of reconciliation, disease fastened upon his earthly tabernacle, and he sank down in death. No tender mother, nor kind sister was near to close his dying eyes. No family friends were present to follow his remains to the tomb. There he lies in a lone spot, far from the home of his childhood, with the weeds grown up all around his grave, and few that pass by understand the full import of the simple inscription of the marble slab that marks the spot where his ashes repose!

And there too, amid the gathered crowd of the dead, was all that remained of the mortal part of one whose voice had been heard a hundred times amid those grounds repeating the solemn burial service of our Church. But years have passed away since that service was repeated over him. Well do I recollect the melancholy occasion, when the cold icy clod of winter fell upon his coffin, as the affecting words were pronounced—"We commit his body to the ground: earth to earth—ashes to ashes, dust to dust." I could not pass through those grounds without paying a visit to the grave of the buried minister, for he had not only shed spiritual light upon my path, but was united to me by the strong ties of kindred and blood. He was my own brother! The grass was green over his grave; for it had flourished there undisturbed for more than twelve years.

But no spot in all that ground seemed so sacred, or so pregnant with power to awaken deep emotions and melt my soul into tenderness, as my mother's grave! What a volume of past recollections does every visit to that grave call up! What hallowed thoughts and sacred remembrances stand associated with the dust that slumbers in that narrow house? Can I ever forget a sainted mother's love! Can I ever forget the hour she took my tiny hand into hers and led me to a secret place there to pray for me and to teach me how to lift up my infant voice to the Creator of the skies? Can I ever forget how each night and morning in childhood's happy days I knelt at her side to repeat "our Father?" Can I ever forget how in my childish sorrows her voice soothed my distress, and her bright beaming smile spread a sunshine around my path? Can I ever forget how, when sickness came upon me, and the scorchings of fever sent the blood boiling through my veins, she hung over me like a guardian angel—laid her soft hand upon my burning brow, and night after night sat and watched by my pillow? Can I ever forget that look of holy rapture and unutterable gratitude that lit up her countenance when the constraining love of Christ first led her unworthy child to go forward and take hold of the horns of the altar? And above all, can I ever forget her prayers and solemn counsel, her holy trust in Christ and upward looking towards the summit of the everlasting hills, when the icy hand of death was upon her, and her hold upon life was breaking away? And could I stand by her grave, and not have these recollections come thronging upon me? But I must stop. I had almost forgotten that I was writing for the eye of others. Did I not know that many into whose hands these remarks willfall, have also stood bya mother's grave, and thought and felt unutterable things, and will therefore appreciate the source and sacredness of these feelings to which I have been almost involuntarily led to give expression, I would immediately erase them from this sheet.

But I have lingered over these scenes much longer than I intended. I had purposed to give you some account of an excursion I made to Palmyra and Lyons, two rising and beautiful villages located within sixteen miles of each other, at different points on the line of the great Erie Canal. The whole range of country from Geneva onward to these villages, and still farther north till we reach the shores washed by the waves of the broad Ontario, which expands before the eye like a great inland sea, is one of the richest and most beautiful farming districts found in our country. This region, fourteen years ago, was the scene of my early missionary labours. It was then comparatively a new country. A change has come over the whole aspect of this agricultural district, and that within so limited a period, that it would almost seem to have been effected by the wand of enchantment. Edifices too for public worship have been raised, and the sound of the church-going bell is now heard in many places where a few years since all seemed like spiritual desolation. The Episcopal Church had neither existence nor local habitation in the county of Wayne fourteen years ago. An effort had been previously made at Palmyra to establish the Episcopal Church, but it proved abortive. Palmyra, Lyons, and Sodus, were the principal points where my early ministerial labours were bestowed. Here we organized churches, and in two places commenced rearing up houses of public worship.In each of these three places they now have a settled pastor. I spent a Sabbath most delightfully at Palmyra, preaching in the neat and tasteful church edifice erected there. Most deeply affecting was it to see among the serious and exemplary communicants of this church some who during my residence in that place were among the giddiest youth of the village.

At Lyons they are building a beautiful stone Gothic Church—which will be an ornament to the village, and highly creditable to those engaged in this enterprise. I have met with but few men, to whom upon so short an acquaintance, I have felt my heart more drawn than to the worthy young pastor placed over this congregation. His ministerial fidelity, attractive pulpit powers, and lovely Christian character seem to have attracted all hearts towards him. Here too, was I delighted to find among the communicants some whom I had baptized in infancy.

The golden Bible—Moral, political, and numercial importance of the Mormon sect—Views of Revelation—Causes that have contributed to spread Mormonism—Martin Harris—Interview with the author—Transcripts from the golden Bible—Jo Smith, the Mormon prophet—His early history—First pretended revelation—His marriage—Chest containing the golden Bible—Attempts to disinter it—Consequence—Delusion of Harris—Translation and publication of theBook of Mormon.

The sketch that follows, detailing some facts connected with the rise and origin of Mormonism, is made up partly of a series of letters written by the author in 1840 for the columns of theEpiscopal Recorder, a religious periodical published in Philadelphia, of which he is one of the editors, and partly of facts and documents that have since come into his hands.

The present chapter contains the substance of the first letter of the series referred to.

Palmyra, Aug. 24th.

I proceed to give some account of the rise and origin of the Mormon delusion, as I am now in the region where this imposture first sprung up. In the town of Manchester, about six miles from this place, may still beseen an excavation in the side of a hill, from whence, according to the assertion of the Mormon prophet, the metallic plates, sometimes calledThe Golden Bible, were disinterred. A writer in theNew York Evening Express, who has been recently travelling in the West, remarks that "the Mormons have assumed a moral and political importance which is but very imperfectly understood." He then proceeds to add in relation to them that, "associated on the religious principle, under a prophet and leader, whose mysterious and awful claims to divine inspiration make his voice to believers like the voice of God; trained to sacrifice their individuality; to utter one cry; to think and act in crowds; with minds that seem to have been struck from the sphere of reason on one subject; and left to wander like lost stars, amid the dark mazes and winding ways of religious error; these remarkable sectaries must necessarily hold in their hands a fearful balance of political power. In the midst of contending parties, a single hand might turn their influence, with tremendous effect, to which ever side presented the most potent attraction, and should they ever become disposed to exert their influence for evil, which may Heaven prevent, they would surround our institutions with an element of danger, more to be dreaded than an armed and hundred-eyed police." It is not, however, in reference to their political, but to theirreligiousinfluence, that we entertain a degree of apprehension. This sect has been organized only about ten years, and yet they profess to number, in their society,one hundred thousandsouls. This undoubtedly is an exaggeration, but it has been stated from a source upon which reliance can be placed, that there are probably not less thansixty thousandpersons now professing the Mormon faith. Itis said also that they are putting forth the most indefatigable efforts by itinerant missionaries, both in this country and in Europe, to make proselytes to their creed. These facts show the importance of spreading upon the columns of our religious journals from time to time statements that tend to unveil the trickery and artifice by which this system of imposture was got up and continues to be perpetuated.

There are two or three reasons why the Mormon delusion has spread so rapidly, and which will probably continue to give it more or less currency.

One cause is, that it fully and cordially admits the truth of the sacred Scriptures. Did it discard all previous revelation,—pour contempt upon the Saviour of the world, and set up an independent claim for a revelation wholly new, it would have gained comparatively few adherents. But recognizing the truth and credibility of the sacred Scriptures, and retaining as it does, many doctrines which are held in common by different denominations of Christians, and covering its own absurdities with imposing forms and lofty pretensions, it opens a winning asylum for all the disaffected and dissatisfied of other persuasions, and contains much that is congenial to almost every shade of radicalism, or erratic religious character.

Another cause which has contributed to the rapid spread of this imposture, is, that it appeals strongly to the love of the marvellous,—to that thirst and anxiety, so rife with a certain class of mind, to know more than God would have us know,—to find some discovery that will carry us farther than revelation,—to get some one to come back from the grave, and tell us what is in eternity,—to see with our own eyes a miracle, and obtain some new glimpse of theinvisible world. There is manifestly existing in a certain order of men, in every part of the world, and in every period of time, a strong propensity of this sort. What but this propensity would have given such potent and almost irresistible influence toJoan d' Arc, who, from an ostler maid in an obscure country inn in France, by claiming heavenly inspirations, and pretending to see visions, and to hear divine voices calling her to re-establish the throne of France, and to expel the foreign invaders, rose to such surprising eminence and power, as to be the very pivot upon which the destinies of the whole nation turned!—as to be invested with the military conduct of the French army,—directing and raising sieges,—inspiring the troops with invincible courage, and spreading disaster and defeat through all the ranks of the British army, so that the Duke of Bedford, after all the previous success and triumph of the English arms at Verneuil and Orleans, and with all his tact and ability, could scarcely keep any footing in France? What but this deep-rooted propensity could have prepared men to have received the dreams, and reveries, and pretended revelation of Emanuel Swedenborg, or of Ann Lee; or to have yielded up their reason to a belief in the clairvoyance of animal magnetism? And not to multiply instances abroad, what but such a propensity as the one to which we have now referred, attracted the New Jerusalemites aroundJemima Wilkinson, and gave her so much power over a large community of men and women? What but this, opened the way for the monstrous claims set up by the execrableMathias, who drew after him, as by the power of enchantment, and subjected to his dictum, whole families,—persons of education and refinement, and among the number, several men of intelligence, respectabilityand fortune? It is to this same principle, this anxious desire to look deeper into the hidden mysteries of the invisible world, than any mortal has hitherto been privileged to do, that the originators of this "cunningly devised fable" of Mormonism have appealed. While they admit the truth and credibility of the sacred Scriptures, they profess to have obtained an additional revelation, by which new illumination is shed over every page of the sacred word,—all controversies settled, and the obscurity that hitherto hung over many religious subjects dispelled. They profess to bring to light a historical and religious record, written in ancient times, by a branch of the house of Israel that peopled America, from whom the Indians are descended. This record, which, engraven upon metallic plates, lay deposited in the earth for many centuries, not only corroborates and confirms the truth of holy writ, but also opens the events of ancient America, as far back at least as the flood. They pretend that this record "pours the light of noon-day upon the history of a nation whose mounds and cities, and fortifications, still repose in grand but melancholy ruins, upon the bosom of the western prairies." The Mormons not only claim this new revelation, but profess to have still among them the gift of prophecy and miracles. They contend that miracles and revelations from heaven, are as necessary now, and as important to the salvation of the present generation, as they were in any former period, and that they alone possess this privilege of immediate and constant intercourse with heaven.

But that which has given vastly the greatest strength to Mormonism is the violent persecution which its disciples have suffered in the West, and especially in Missouri.Nothing can be more impolitic, or unjust, or farther removed from the spirit of the gospel, than to oppress and persecute any set of men on account of their religious tenets; and certainly nothing can give them more strength or rapid growth than such a procedure.

The Mormons first located themselves, as a body, in Kirtland, Geanga Co., Ohio. Some difference arose among their leaders on account of certain banking operations which they attempted, and they separated, and a portion of them went to Independence, Jackson Co., Mo. The people in the neighbourhood of that location became unfriendly to them, and drove them away by force, subjecting them to great sufferings and loss of property. They were at last entirely and forcibly expelled from the state of Missouri. They afterward purchased the town of Commerce, said to be a situation of surpassing beauty, at the head of the lower rapids on the Illinois shore of the Mississippi river. The writer to whom I have already referred, and who has revisited these western Mormons this present summer, remarks:—"The name of the place where they now reside, they have recently changed to Nauvoo, the Hebrew term for fair or beautiful. Around this place, as their centre, they are daily gathering from almost every quarter: and several hundred new houses, erected within the last few months, attest to the passing traveller the energy, industry, and self-denial with which the community is imbued. They have also obtained possession of extensive lands on the opposite side of the river, in that charming portion of Iowa Territory, known as the 'Half Breed Reservation;' and there upon the rolling and fertile prairies they are rapidly selecting their homes and opening their farms. As the traveller now passes throughthose natural parks and fields of flowers which the hand of the Creator seems to have originally planted there for the inspection of his own eye, he beholds their cabins, dotted down in most enchanting perspective, either on the borders of the timbers, or beside the springs and streams of living water which are interspersed on every hand."

The other portion that remain in Ohio, have erected a stone temple in Kirtland, of splendid appearance and singular construction. The first floor is a place of worship, with four pulpits at each end; each pulpit calculated to hold three persons. These pulpits rise behind and above one another, and are designed for different grades of ministers according to their rank in office. These are the two principal settlements of these people, although there are small societies of them found in almost every part of the United States. In some instances not only members but ministers of orthodox churches have been led to leave their own churches, and identify themselves with the Mormons.

It is time that I should acquaint you with some facts that came to my personal knowledge full thirteen years ago, connected with the rise of this imposture.

It was early in the autumn of 1827 that Martin Harris called at my house in Palmyra, one morning about sunrise. His whole appearance indicated more than usual excitement, and he had scarcely passed the threshold of my dwelling, before he inquired whether he could see me alone, remarking that he had a matter to communicate that he wished to be strictly confidential. Previous to this, I had but very slight acquaintance with Mr. Harris. He had occasionally attended divine service in our church. Ihad heard him spoken of as a farmer in comfortable circumstances, residing in the country a short distance from the village, and distinguished by certain peculiarities of character. He had been, if I mistake not, at one period, a member of the Methodist Church, and subsequently had identified himself with the Universalists. At this time, however, in his religious views he seemed to be floating upon the sea of uncertainty. He had evidently quite an extensive knowledge of the Scriptures, and possessed a manifest disputatious turn of mind. As I subsequently learned, Mr. Harris had always been a firm believer in dreams, and visions, and supernatural appearances, such as apparitions and ghosts, and therefore was a fit subject for such men as Smith and his colleagues to operate upon. On the occasion just referred to, I invited him to accompany me to my study, where, after having closed the door, he began to draw a package out of his pocket with great and manifest caution. Suddenly, however, he stopped, and wished to know if there was any possibility of our being interrupted or overheard? When answered in the negative, he proceeded to remark, that he reposed great confidence in me as a minister of Jesus Christ, and that what he had now to communicate he wished me to regard as strictly confidential. He said he verily believed that an important epoch had arrived—that a great flood of light was about to burst upon the world, and that the scene of divine manifestation was to be immediately around us. In explanation of what he meant, he then proceeded to remark that agolden Biblehad recently been dug from the earth, where it had been deposited for thousands of years, and that this would be found to contain such disclosures as would settle all religious controversies and speedilybring on the glorious millennium. That this mysterious book, which no human eye of the present generation had yet seen, was in the possession of Joseph Smith, jr., ordinarily known in the neighbourhood under the more familiar designation ofJo Smith; that there had been a revelation made to him by which he had discovered this sacred deposit, and two transparent stones, through which, as a sort of spectacles, he could read the Bible, although the box or ark that contained it, had not yet been opened; and that by looking through those mysterious stones, he had transcribed from one of the leaves of this book, the characters which Harris had so carefully wrapped in the package which he was drawing from his pocket. The whole thing appeared to me so ludicrous and puerile, that I could not refrain from telling Mr. Harris, that I believed it a mere hoax got up to practice upon his credulity, or an artifice to extort from him money; for I had already, in the course of the conversation, learned that he had advanced some twenty-five dollars to Jo Smith as a sort of premium for sharing with him in the glories and profits of this new revelation. For at this time, his mind seemed to be quite as intent upon the pecuniary advantage that would arise from the possession of the plates of solid gold of which this book was composed, as upon the spiritual light it would diffuse over the world. My intimations to him, in reference to the possible imposition that was being practiced upon him, however, were indignantly repelled. He then went on to relate the particulars in regard to the discovery and possession of this marvellous book. As far as I can now recollect, the following was an outline of the narrative which he then communicated to me, and subsequently to scores of people in the village, from some ofwhom in my late visit to Palmyra, I have been able to recall several particulars that had quite glided from my memory.

Before I proceed to Martin's narrative, however, I would remark in passing, that Jo Smith, who has since been the chief prophet of the Mormons, and was one of the most prominent ostensible actors in the first scenes of this drama, belonged to a very shiftless family near Palmyra. They lived a sort of vagrant life, and were principally known asmoney-diggers. Jo from a boy appeared dull and utterly destitute of genius; but his father claimed for him a sort of second sight, a power to look into the depths of the earth, and discover where its precious treasures were hid. Consequently long before the idea of agolden Bibleentered their minds, in their excursions for money-digging, which I believe usually occurred in the night, that they might conceal from others the knowledge of the place where they struck upon treasures, Jo used to be usually their guide, putting into a hat a peculiar stone he had through which he looked to decide where they should begin to dig.

According to Martin Harris, it was after one of these night excursions, that Jo, while he lay upon his bed, had a remarkable dream. An angel of God seemed to approach him, clad in celestial splendor. This divine messenger assured him, that he, Joseph Smith, was chosen of the Lord to be a prophet of the Most High God, and to bring to light hidden things, that would prove of unspeakable benefit to the world. He then disclosed to him the existence of this golden Bible, and the place where it was deposited—but at the same time told him that he must follow implicitly the divine direction, or he would drawdown upon him the wrath of heaven. This book, which was contained in a chest, or ark, and which consisted of metallic plates covered with characters embossed in gold, he must not presume to look into, under three years. He must first go on a journey into Pennsylvania—and there among the mountains, he would meet with a very lovely woman, belonging to a highly respectable and pious family, whom he was to take for his wife. As a proof that he was sent on this mission by Jehovah, as soon as he saw this designated person, he would be smitten with her beauty, and though he was a stranger to her, as she was far above him in the walks of life, she would at once be willing to marry him and go with him to the ends of the earth. After their marriage he was to return to his former home, and remain quietly there until the birth of his first child. When this child had completed his second year, he might then proceed to the hill beneath which the mysterious chest was deposited, and draw it thence, and publish the truths it contained to the world. Smith awoke from his dream, and, according to Harris, started off towards Pennsylvania, not knowing to what point he should go. But the Lord directed him, and gained him favour in the eyes of just such a person as was described to him. He was married and had returned. His first child had been born, and was now about six months old. But Jo had not been altogether obedient to the heavenly vision. After his marriage and return from Pennsylvania, he became so awfully impressed with the high destiny that awaited him, that he communicated the secret to his father and family. The money-digging propensity of the old man operated so powerfully, that he insisted upon it that they should go and dig and see if the chest was there—notwith any view to remove it till the appointed time, but merely to satisfy themselves. Accordingly they went forth in the stillness of the night with their spades and mattocks to the spot where slumbered this sacred deposit. They had proceeded but a little while in the work of excavation, before the mysterious chest appeared; but lo! instantly it moved and glided along out of their sight. Directed, however, by theclairvoyanceof Jo, they again penetrated to the spot where it stood, and succeeded in gaining a partial view of its dimensions. But while they were pressing forward to gaze at it, the thunder of the Almighty shook the spot, and made the earth to tremble—a sheet of vivid lightning swept along over the side of the hill, and burnt terribly around the place where the excavation was going on, and again, with a rumbling noise, the chest moved off out of their sight. They were all terrified and fled towards their home. Jo took his course silently along by himself. On his way homeward, being alone and in the woods, the angel of the Lord met him, clad in terror and wrath. He spoke in a voice of thunder: forked lightnings shot through the trees, and ran along upon the ground. The terror which the appearance of the divine messenger awakened, instantly struck Smith to the earth, and he felt his whole frame convulsed with agony, as though he were stamped upon by the iron hoofs of death himself. In language most terrific did the angel upbraid him for his disobedience, and then disappeared. Smith went home trembling and full of terror. Soon, however, his mind became more composed. Another divine communication was made to him, authorizing him to go alone by himself and bring the chest and deposit it secretly under the hearth of his dwelling, but by no means to attemptto look into it. The reason assigned by the angel for this removal, was that some report in relation to the place where this sacred book was deposited had gone forth, and there was danger of its being disturbed. According to Harris, Smith now scrupulously followed the divine directions. He was already in possession of the two transparent stones laid up with thegolden Bible, by looking through which he was enabled to read the golden letters on the plates in the box. How he obtained these spectacles without opening the chest, Harris could not tell. But still he had them; and by means of them he could read all the book contained. The book itself was not to be disclosed until Smith's child had attained a certain age. Then it might be published to the world. In the interim Smith was to prepare the way for the conversion of the world to a new system of faith, by transcribing the characters from the plates and giving translations of the same. This was the substance of Martin Harris' communication to me upon our first interview. He then carefully unfolded a slip of paper, which contained three or four lines of characters, as unlike letters or hieroglyphics of any sort, as well could be produced were one to shut up his eyes and play off the most antic movements with his pen upon paper. The only thing that bore the slightest resemblance to the letter of any language that I had ever seen, was two upright marks joined by a horizontal line, that might have been taken for the Hebrew character ה. My ignorance of the characters in which this pretended ancient record was written, was to Martin Harris new proof that Smith's whole account of the divine revelation made to him was entirely to be relied on.

One thing is here to be noticed, that the statements ofthe originators of this imposture varied, and were modified from time to time according as their plans became more matured. At first it was a gold Bible—then golden plates engraved—then metallic plates stereotyped or embossed with golden letters. At one time Harris was to be enriched by the solid gold of these plates, at another they were to be religiously kept to convince the world of the truth of the revelation—and, then these plates could not be seen by any but three witnesses whom the Lord should choose. How easy it would be, were there any such plates in existence, to produce them, and to show that Mormonism is not a "cunningly devised fable." How far Harris was duped by this imposture, or how far he entered into it as a matter of speculation, I am unable to say. Several gentlemen in Palmyra, who saw and conversed with him frequently, think he was labouring under a sort of monomania, and that he thoroughly believed all that Jo Smith chose to tell him on this subject. He was so much in earnest on this subject, that he immediately started off with some of the manuscripts that Smith furnished him on a journey to New York and Washington to consult some learned men to ascertain the nature of the language in which this record was engraven. After his return he came to see me again, and told me that, among others, he had consulted Professor Anthon,[2]who thought the characters in which the book was written very remarkable, but he could not decide exactly what language they belonged to. Martin had now become a perfect believer. He said he had no more doubt of Smith's commission, than of the divinecommission of the apostles. The very fact that Smith was an obscure and illiterate man, showed that he must be acting under divine impulses:—"God had chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, and the weak things to confound the mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised—yea, and things that are not to bring to nought—things that are—that no flesh should glory in his presence:" that he was willing to "take of the spoiling of his goods" to sustain Smith in carrying on this work of the Lord; and that he was determined that the book should be published, though it consumed all his worldly substance. It was in vain I endeavoured to expostulate. I was an unbeliever, and could not see afar off. As for him, he must follow the light which the Lord had given him. Whether at this time Smith had those colleagues that unquestionably afterwards moved, unseen, the wheels of this machinery, I am unable to say. Even after Cowdery and Rigdon were lending the whole force of their minds to the carrying out of this imposture, Jo Smith continued to be the ostensible prominent actor in the drama. The way that Smith made his transcripts and translations for Harris was the following. Although in the same room, a thick curtain or blanket was suspended between them, and Smith concealed behind the blanket, pretended to look through his spectacles, or transparent stones, and would then write down or repeat what he saw, which, when repeated aloud, was written down by Harris, who sat on the other side of the suspended blanket. Harris was told that it would arouse the most terrible divine displeasure, if he should attempt to draw near the sacred chest, or look at Smith while engaged in the work of decyphering the mysterious characters. This was Harris'sown account of the matter to me. What other measures they afterwards took to transcribe or translate from these metallic plates, I cannot say, as I very soon after this removed to another field of labour where I heard no more of this matter till I learned theBook of Mormonwas about being published. It was not till after the discovery of the manuscript of Mr. Spaulding, of which I shall subsequently give some account, that the actors in this imposture thought of calling this pretended revelation theBook of Mormon. This book, which professed to be a translation of the golden Bible brought to light by Joseph Smith, was published in 1830—to accomplish which Martin Harris actually mortgaged his farm.

In addition to the facts with which I myself was conversant in 1827 and 1828, connected with the rise of Mormonism, I have been able to lay hold of one or two valuable documents, and to obtain several items of intelligence, by which I shall be enabled to continue this sketch of the rise and origin of this singular imposture. To my mind there never was a grosser piece of deception undertaken to be practised than this.

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