of God.
But in Kirtland in that day there was the controversy of the invisibles.
—
It was in the beginning of the year 1831 that a sleigh drove into the little town of Kirtland. There were in it a man and his wife with her girl, and a man servant driving.
They seemed to be travelers, and to have come a long distance rather than from a neighboring village; indeed they had come from another State; hundreds of miles from home now; far away in those days for a man to be thus traveling in midwinter with his wife.
But they were not emigrants; at least seemingly not such; certainly not emigrants of an ordinary kind.
No caravan followed in their wake with merchandise for the western market, nor a train of goods and servants to make a home in a neighboring State.
A solitary sleigh; a man with his wife and two servants; a solitary sleigh, and far from home.
That they were not fugitives was apparent in the manly boldness of the chief personage and the somewhat imperial presence of the woman by his side. This personal air of confidence, and a certain conscious importance, were quite marked in both, especially in the man.
They were two decided personages come West. Some event was in their coming. This much the observer might at once have concluded.
There was thus something of mystery about the solitary sleigh and its occupants.
A chariot with a destiny in it—a very primitive chariot of peace, but a chariot with a charm about it. The driver might have felt akin to the boatman who embarked with the imperial Roman: "Fear not—Caesar is in thy boat!"
The sleigh wended its course through the streets of Kirtland until it came to the store of Messrs. Gilbert & Whitney, merchants. There it stopped.
Leaping from the primitive vehicle the personage shook himself lightly, as a young lion rising from his restful attitude; for the man possessed a royal strength and a magnificent physique. In age he was scarcely more than twenty-five; young, but with the stamp of one born to command.
Leaving his wife in the sleigh, he walked, with a royal bearing and a wonderfully firm step, straight into the store of Gilbert & Whitney. His bearing could not be other. He planted his foot as one who never turned back—as one destined to make a mark in the great world at his every footfall. He had come to Kirtland as though to possess it.
Going up to the counter where stood the merchant Whitney, he tapped him with hearty affection on the shoulder as he would have done to a long separated brother or a companion of by-gone years. There was the magnetism of love in his very touch. Love was the wondrous charm that the man carried about him.
"Well, Brother Whitney, how do you do?" was his greeting.
"You have the advantage of me," replied Whitney, wondering who his visitor could be. "I could not call you by name."
"I am Joseph, the prophet!"
It was like one of old making himself known to his brethren—"I am Joseph, your brother!"
"Well, what do you want of me?" Joseph asked with a smile; and then with grave solicitude added:
"You have prayed me here, now what do you want of me? The Lord would not let me sleep at nights; but said, up and take your wife to Kirtland!"
An archangel's coming would not have been a greater event to the saints than the coming of Joseph the prophet.
Leaving his store and running across the road to his house, Elder Whitney exclaimed:
"Who do you think was in that sleigh at the store?"
"Well, I don't know," replied Sister Whitney.
"Why, it is Joseph and his wife. Where shall we put them?"
Then came to the mind of Sister Whitney the vision of the cloud that had overshadowed her house at midnight, and the words of the angel who had spoken from the pavilion of his hidden glory. The vision had now to them a meaning and fulfillment indeed. The sister and her husband who had heard the "voice" felt that "the word of the Lord" was to be given to Kirtland in their own dwelling and under the very roof thus hallowed.
One-half of the house was immediately set apart for the prophet and his wife. The sleigh drove up to the door and Joseph entered with Emma—the "elect lady" of the church—and they took up their home in the little city which, with his presence, was now Zion.
It was the controversy of these two powers in the churches in the West which had called Joseph to Kirtland in the opening of the year 1831. The church in the State of New York—its birthplace—had been commanded by revelation to move West, but Joseph hastened ahead with his wife, as we have seen.
He had been troubled at nights in his visions. He had seen Elder Whitney and his wife and the good saints praying for his help. This is how he had known "Brother Whitney" at sight; for Joseph on such occasions saw all things before him as by a map unfolded to his view.
"Up and take your wife to Kirtland," "the Lord" had commanded. And he had come. The church, from the State of New York, followed him the ensuing May.
The master spirit was in Kirtland now. All spirits were subject to him. That was one ruling feature of his apostleship. He held the keys of the dispensation. He commanded and the very invisibles obeyed. They also recognized the master spirit. He was only subject to the God of Israel.
"Peace, be still!" the master commanded, and the troubled waters of Kirtland were at peace.
There in the chamber which Sister Whitney consecrated to the prophet the great revelation was given concerning the tests of spirits. There also many of the revelations were given, some of which form part of the book of doctrine and covenants. The chamber was thereafter called the translating room.
Perchance the mystic cloud often overshadowed that house, but the angel of the new covenant could now enter and speak face to face with mortal; for Jehovah's prophet dwelt there. To him the heavens unveiled, and the archangels of celestial spheres appeared in their glory and administered to him.
Wonderful, indeed, if this be true, of which there is a cloud of witnesses; and more wonderful still if hosts of angels, good and bad, have come to earth since that day, converting millions to an age of revelation, unless one like unto Joseph has indeed unlocked the new dispensation with an Elijah's keys of power!
CHAPTER IX.
ELIZA R. SNOW'S EXPERIENCE—GLIMPSES OF THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF JOSEPH SMITH—GATHERING OF THE SAINTS.
"In the autumn of 1829," says Eliza R. Snow, the high priestess, "the tidings reached my ears that God had spoken from the heavens; that he had raised up a prophet, and was about to restore the fullness of the gospel with all its gifts and powers.
"During my brief association with the Campbellite church, I was deeply interested in the study of the ancient prophets, in which I was assisted by the erudite Alexander Campbell himself, and Walter Scott, whose acquaintance I made—but more particularly by Sidney Rigdon, who was a frequent visitor at my father's house.
"But when I heard of the mission of the prophet Joseph I was afraid it was not genuine. It was just what my soul had hungered for, but I thought it was a hoax.
"However, I improved the opportunity and attended the first meeting within my reach. I listened to the testimonials of two of the witnesses of the Book of Mormon. Such impressive testimonies I had never before heard. To hear men testify that they had seen a holy angel—that they had listened to his voice, bearing testimony of the work that was ushering in a new dispensation; that the fullness of the gospel was to be restored and that they were commanded to go forth and declare it, thrilled my inmost soul.
"Yet it must be remembered