it.

This reformation in Hector, was a means of temptation to me. I had preached and labored with my might to lead the people to the truth, and Elder Brown had stepped in and reaped the results of my labors. Because I would not join the Campbellite church and preach for them, I was entirely thrown aside. The adversary would reason with me thus: "What is the use of all your preaching? It does not amount to anything to you. You had better attend to your own business and let such nonsense alone."

I listened to these suggestions until I had grieved the Spirit of the Lord which I had enjoyed. I no longer had the Spirit to pray or to exhort the people to lives of righteousness. I was in this condition for several months.

In all this lethargy and darkness, I knew there was such a thing as joy in the Spirit of God—that in the testimony of Jesus there was light and peace. I knew I had accepted a mission to bear this testimony while I should remain on the earth.

Knowing these things, I became, in time, alarmed at my condition, I feared that the Lord had forsaken me. I humbled myself before Him in fasting and prayer. I promised Him that if He would return His good Spirit, I would never again reject its suggestions.

Matters continued thus with me for several weeks. In one of my seasons of prayer and supplication, I sensibly felt that I was again visited by the Holy Spirit. I was encouraged to resume my labors in exhorting the people whenever an opportunity was presented. I went from home on the Sabbath and held meetings in different places. I was employed in this way when I first saw the Book of Mormon, and when the gospel was preached to me.

This, and other experiences, have convinced me that when we question the Holy Spirit it is likely to be grieved, and leave us to ourselves. Then will our darkness be greater than if we had never enjoyed its influences. Perhaps this incident in my life may suggest wisdom to others.

In November, 1829, I removed to a place called Hector Hill. In February, 1831, my father, my brothers Joseph and Brigham, and Heber C. Kimball came to my house. They brought with them the Book of Mormon. They were on their way to visit some Saints in Pennsylvania. Through fear of being deceived, I was quite cautious in religious matters. I read and compared the Book of Mormon with the Bible, and fasted and prayed that I might come to a knowledge of the truth. The Spirit seemed to say, "This is the way; walk ye in it." This was all the testimony I could get at the time; it was not altogether satisfactory.

The following May, Elder Levi Gifford came into the neighborhood, and desired to preach. My brother, John, belonged to the Methodist church, and had charge of their meeting house which was in the neighborhood. I obtained from him permission for Elder Gifford to preach in it. The appointment was circulated for a meeting the same evening.

This was on Saturday evening, and the circuit preacher of that district was to hold a meeting there on Sunday. Elder Midbury, the circuit preacher, attended the meeting. The house was crowded. As soon as Elder Gifford had concluded his discourse, Elder Midbury arose to his feet and said: "Brethren, sisters and friends: I have been a preacher of the gospel for twenty-two years; I do not know that I have been the means of converting a sinner, or reclaiming a poor backslider; but this I do know, that the doctrine the stranger has preached to us to-night is a deception, that Joe Smith is a false prophet, and that the Book of Mormon is from hell."

After talking awhile in this strain, he concluded. I immediately arose to my feet and asked the privilege of speaking, which was granted. I said that Elder Midbury, in his remarks, entirely ignored the possibility of more revelation, and acknowledged that he had been a preacher of the gospel for twenty-two years, without knowing that he had been the means of converting a sinner, or of reclaiming a poor backslider. But still he claimed to know that the doctrine he had just heard was false, that Joseph Smith was an impostor, and that the Book of Mormon was from hell. "Now, how is it possible," I asked, "for him to know these things unless he has received a revelation?"

When I sat down a strong man, by the name of Thompson, who was well known in the neighborhood as a beligerent character, stepped up to Elder Gifford and demanded the proofs of the authenticity of the Book of Mormon.

Elder Gifford replied, "I have said all I care about saying to-night."

Then said Mr. Thompson, "we will take the privilege of clothing you with a coat of tar and feathers, and riding you out of town on a rail."

In the meantime, four or five others of like character came to the front.

Acting under the impulse of the moment—true to the instincts of my nature to protect the weak against the strong, I stepped between Elder Gifford and Mr. Thompson. Looking the latter in the eye, I said, "Mr. Thompson, you cannot lay your hand on this stranger to harm a hair of his head, without you do it over my dead body."

He replied by mere threats of violence, which brought my brother John to his feet.

With a voice and manner, that carried with it a power greater than I had ever seen manifested in him before, and, I might say, since, he commanded Mr. Thompson and party to take their seats. He continued, "Gentlemen, if you offer to lay a hand on Mr. Gifford, you shall pass through my hands, after which I think you will not want any more to-night." Mr. Thompson and party quieted down and then took their seats.

Since then the Elders have passed through so many similar experiences, that they have ceased to be a novelty. That there should be such a powerful antagonism of spirits manifesting themselves in muscle, in a Christian church, indicated a new era in religious influences.