father then for the first time told me I could be baptized if I wished. I, however, waited until the next Wednesday, this being on Sunday. During the interval, however, I plead with the Lord to forgive me of my sin of covenant-breaking; and when I came up out of the water, not before, did I feel that He had answered my prayers, and that all my sins were pardoned. This was on the 16th day of January, 1833. I was a little over sixteen years of age.

I hope my young readers will keep their covenants with the Lord and not have the sorrow of heart I had. It was so intense that I question very much whether I could survive the same length of time with my present infirmities of age. I had not the advantages of the present period. I had only what I had learned from reading the Bible. I had only heard perhaps from two to four gospel sermons and those mainly by young Elders. I do not mention this fact in justification of my course, yet I do believe that the Lord was more merciful towards me than He would have been if I had had the advantages that the people have now, especially those of our young people who have kind parents who are Latter-day Saints to encourage and lead them along in the right way. One kind word of invitation and persuasion on the part of my parents at a proper time would have removed all obstacles, and been hailed as a heavenly boon. I desired to break the fetters which seemed to bind me.

Here let me exhort all parents to do all they can to encourage their children to be baptized at eight years of age, and much earlier to pray, ask a blessing on the food, and attend the primary meetings and Sabbath schools. At and prior to the time of my serious convictions, of which I have spoken, such institutions and encouragement would have been prized above all earthly things.

I did attend a Methodist Sabbath school, the only one I knew anything about; but at the tender age of fifteen years I was better versed in the true interpretation of the scriptures than the teacher. But attending Sabbath school kept me out of the company of wicked boys, and had a tendency to teach me a reverence for the Sabbath day.

After I was baptized, however, I never attended the Methodist Sabbath school any more, although it was desired that I should. My teachers said I was always honest and truthful, and they believed I was sincere in my religion, and if I would continue to attend their Sunday school I would see my error. They believed I had been converted, and that when I got a few years older I would be called to preach the gospel, and would be the means of saving many souls.

I admitted having been converted and that I knew my sins were forgiven, and further testified that obedience to "Mormonism," so-called, was what had brought peace to my soul; and the nearer I lived to it, the more of the peace of the Holy Spirit I felt.

The gift of prophecy was poured out upon me. I also received the gift and interpretation of tongues. But what then and ever since has seemed to me the greatest gift I received was to speak easily and fluently in my own language. This was the first gift I received. It came upon me in great power. A few months after my baptism several leading Elders from Kirtland, Ohio, were about to be dragged from our school house by a mob who had assembled to tar and feather them. When the Elders and others failed to stop them from disturbing the meeting, I stepped upon a form or bench and began to talk to the people. Five minutes had not elapsed when, aside from my voice, a pin dropping upon the floor might have been easily heard. After I had spoken about ten or fifteen minutes the mob left the house, and, after consulting outside a few moments, retired, and we had a good meeting.

This circumstance had gone out of my mind until about 1849, while stopping over night at the house of a brother named Brim. Alfred O. Brim, who was one of the mob, called my attention to it, and asked me if I knew that they had a keg of tar and a feather bed in the carriage in which they came to the meeting.

I replied that I did not think I ever heard of it. He said they brought the tar and the feathers with the full intent to use them on the Elders, but they were so surprised at the power with which I spoke that they knew I was helped by some invisible spirit. They had known me since I was seven years old, and were satisfied that I had not made up the speech, and that I was not capable of doing so. They decided that it must be of the Lord or of the devil. Of this they could not be the judges, not, as they said, having the discerning of spirits. Hence one of them suggested that lest they be found fighting against God, they had better retire. All agreed to it and they left.

Brim and several of his brothers afterwards joined the church, and were at one time prominent tanners in Salt Lake county, Utah.

Dr. Rion, an eminent physician of Springfield, who, I believe, was the leader, it was said, died instantly of apoplexy, some time after, while sitting in his chair.

I never heard any more talk of mobbing in that neighborhood. Thus the Lord made use of a humble, unlearned boy to break up a spirit of mobocracy which had existed for some months, and saved His servants from cruel treatment and possible death.

CHAPTER III.

ORDAINED TO THE PRIESTHOOD—INVITED TO PREACH—I MAKE UP A SERMON ON MY WAY—SERMON APPARENTLY A FAILURE TO ME—MY HEARERS SATISFIED WITH IT—ABUSED BY A BAPTIST MINISTER—HE DESIRES A SIGN—A SIGN PROMISED AND FULFILLED—BLESSINGS RECEIVED IN THE KIRTLAND TEMPLE—WORDS OF THE PROPHET JOSEPH—THEIR FULFILLMENT—AN INCIDENT IN MISSOURI—LITERAL FULFILLMENT OF A PREDICTION UTTERED BY JOSEPH SMITH—HIS PATRIOTISM—STRANGE PHENOMENON—ITS EFFECT.

On the 4th day of August, 1834, I was ordained to the lesser Priesthood under the hands of Lorenzo Wells, who at the time presided over the branch. Within less than a month, I was invited to bring an Elder with me and preach in Mercer Co., Pa. I sent an appointment, but, being unable to get an Elder to accompany me, I resolved to go alone. The distance was about fifty miles.

On the way I preached in my mind the greatest sermon I ever had preached, and perhaps greater than I have ever been able to preach since. This sermon, of course, I intended to preach when I reached my destination. The arguments would be irresistible. When I arrived, I sang, opened the meeting by prayer, sang again, and read my text, but the sermon—alas, it was gone, and I would have given everything I possessed to have been back home. This was the first gospel sermon ever preached in the neighborhood, for although my made-up sermon was gone, I made an effort to teach the people the way of life. I read a great many passages of scripture on the first principles of the gospel, making brief comments on each as I could think of but little to say. After occupying perhaps three quarters of an hour, and, as I supposed disgusting every one, I brought the meeting to a close with a faint hope, and a very faint one, too, that I would be invited to speak again. In that case I would plead with the Lord to forgive me for making up a sermon beforehand and help my future efforts, and the people would not be so much disappointed, after all, if I could have an opportunity to redeem myself.

No sooner was the meeting closed than the people gathered around me and requested me to preach at their houses, and, I believe, four out of the remaining evenings of the week were engaged in much less time than it has taken me to write it.

While walking towards the residence of my friend I saw a thicket of underbrush not far from our path. To it I retired and poured out my soul to the Lord to forgive me my folly and aid me in the future.

While seated at the dinner table, my friend remarked:

"Well, Daniel, you had nearly all the big men of the county, from the county seat, to hear you, and what do you think they said about your preaching?"

I was ashamed to