The administration of the Sacrament is an occasion which calls us, one
and all, to reflection, to inquire of ourselves in relation to our
course of conduct in life—whether the journey we have pursued, the
paths that we are traveling, are in accordance with the holy
principles of that reli gion which has been revealed for our
salvation, and which we have received. While I have visited the cities
of the East, I have observed that a great amount of means has been
expended in the construction and ornamenting of churches and edifices
for public worship. Every city, every village is beautified with
magnificent buildings, stately domes, elegant spires, erected in honor
and for the purpose of religion, and I have reflected upon the
influence of this religion upon the minds of a community. In visiting
friends I found many who are professors of religion, who seem to have
an utter disregard for any forms of worship whatever, and who totally
neglect prayer in the family and grace at the table. I am not aware,
of course, whether or not this is general among Christians; but I
notice among the Latter-day Saints, that it seems to be very natural
to be slothful and negligent and careless in relation to our
everyday, simple duties. We may build temples, erect stately domes,
magnificent spires, grand towers, in honor of our religion, but if we
fail to live the principles of that religion at home, and to
acknowledge God in all our thoughts, we shall fall short of the
blessings which its practical exercise would ensure.
While the Sacrament is passed around, and we take the emblems of our
Savior's death and suffering, and realize the sacrifice which he made
for our salvation, we should ask ourselves, Do we remember him in all
things? Do we acknowledge his hand in the providences with which we
are surrounded? Do we call upon him in our families and in secret? Or
do we neglect our duties, do we miss praying with our families in the
morning, and have not time to do so in the evening, and are in such a
hurry that we cannot even ask his blessing upon our food, and cannot
take time to attend meeting on the Sabbath, nor afford to devote the
day to rest, meditation and study? Let us also ask these questions of
ourselves, Are we honorable in our relations with each other? Do we do
by our neighbor as we would that he should do unto us? Are we just in
our dealings? Are we honoring those principles of morality which alone
can prepare us to inherit celestial glory? Brethren and sisters, if we
ask ourselves these questions, and, after examining our conduct and
career, can answer them honestly and truthfully in the affirmative,
then we may partake of the bread and water in the presence of our
heavenly Father worthily. If, on the other hand, we have been
negligent and careless, we should repent, for repentance is our first
duty.
Since I last saw you, I have visited the scenes of my childhood, and
the place of my birth, after an absence of about forty years. My ideas
of right and wrong were formed there; my associations with the people,
up to fifteen years of age, were such as to give deep and strong
impressions of their character, and of the principles by which they
were governed. I cannot say that my visit was without its painful
character. Forty years sweep from the face of the earth more than a
generation. I understand statisticians to estimate that thirty-three
years carry as many souls from the earth as dwell on it at one time. I
went into my native town after forty years' absence, and inquired for
those who were the businessmen in my boyhood, for the magistrates,
ministers, merchants, farmers and mechanics with whom I was acquainted
then. Where were they? Nearly all dead; a very few of the old faces,
like ancient oaks, remain. On my father's farm there was a
beautiful grove of maple—some two hundred trees, standing when I was
there before, with no other timber among them, the ground sown with
white clover—it was one of the most beautiful lawns I ever saw when I
left it. I drove up before the house in which I was born, and said to
the man who was residing there, "Is that grove standing?" "Not a maple
tree on the farm," was the reply. "Not a single one?" said I. "No,"
said he, "not a maple on the farm." I had not even the curiosity to
drive across the farm, for in my mind that grove was the feature of
all others, it was the place of my dreams.
Many of you know that in 1853 we had difficulty with the Indians in
Southern Utah. At that time I was military commander of the Southern
Department. Previous to every attack on the settlement, my dreams
would carry me back to that grove, and there I would see, or get some
intimation of, the coming trouble with the Indians. Now there is not a
tree left. It would have been about so with the people if I had stayed
away a few years longer.
I went into the school district where I had resided some six years,
and visited Mr. Porter Patterson, with whom I was well acquainted in
my boyhood, and began inquiring for the neighbors. "Why," said he,
"they are all gone but four: myself and wife, and Mr. John Stafford
and Mrs. Garfield are all the married people that remain that lived
here when you went away, thirty-nine years and two months ago."
"Then," said I, "I must go to the graveyard."
These reflections would bring to my mind the sermons that I had heard
in my youth. I went to the cemetery, and saw the graves of a great
many of my old comrades. There were headstones with inscrip tions to
many whom I had known, and some whose funerals I had attended, and I
could recite texts, and a portion of the sermons preached at those
funerals. They were generally passages like this—"Be ye also ready,
for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh." Passages
of this kind were generally selected as warnings to all to be ready
for death.
From the monuments in the graveyard I found that a good many had been
summoned in their youth, for there were the graves of boys and girls
with whom I had associated, some of them my relatives. I visited three
cemeteries with a like result—the one in our own neighborhood, one in
Colton and the other in Potsdam village, in all of which I had been
more or less acquainted.
Latter-day Saints, in their preaching, call on men and women to
prepare to live, and they teach them how to live, believing that if
any person is prepared to live as he ought to, he will certainly be
prepared to die whenever the summons shall come. It was never a part
or portion of our teaching to attempt to scare men to heaven. I went
to the meetinghouse, or rather to the site of the meetinghouse, for
the old frame building had been replaced by another of bricks, and it
converted into a lecture room for the normal school. In that old frame
building I had been most solemnly sentenced to eternal damnation, nine
times, by a Congregationalist minister forty years ago. He had gone to
his grave, and nearly all the persons present in the congregation at
the time, had followed, or preceded, him. The object of this sentence,
in the eloquent and solemn language in which it was pronounced, and so
oft-repeated, was, no doubt, to stir in the minds of impenitent
sinners, and of me particularly, a conviction that would secure
conversion to Christianity, as I was considered impenitent; and I do
not know but the proper phrase would be, to scare me to heaven. But it
did not have that effect with me, I never could understand nor realize
certain portions of the teachings which I there heard. That I must
become so thoroughly in love with the justice of God as to be
perfectly willing to be damned to all eternity for his glory, and
suffer all the miseries which they so eloquently described, was to me
an impossibility, I could see no justice in such doctrines. But those
were times of great religious excitement, when revivals and protracted
meetings were common all over the country, and the souls of many were
stirred to the very core, as it were, by the idea, then so strongly
advocated, of the punishment and misery which were to be eternally
inflicted upon all those who were finally impenitent. Those sermons
divided the Christian world into two classes, one was made celestial,
inheriting all the blessings and glory which a God could bestow; the
other was banished to eternal misery.
When the doctrines of the Latter-day Saints were preached to me I
could understand them. I could believe in faith and repentance, in the
principle of obedience, and in the doctrines of baptism for the
remission of sins, and the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy
Ghost, and that God had provided for all beings that he ever created,
a glory, honor and immortality in accordance with their works, whether
good or evil, giving, as a matter of course, to the faithful
Latter-day Saints, the reserved seats; or to use the language of the
Apostle Paul, I could believe that there was a glory of the sun, a
glory of the moon, and a glory of the stars, and that the glory of the
stars differed as much as the stars differ in brilliancy; and that all
sects, denominations and classes of people would receive punishments
and rewards in accordance with his divine justice. Every Latter-day
Saint that abides in the truth, faithful, to the end, may expect the
glory of the sun; and every man that acts in accordance with the light
that he possesses lays a foundation for greater glory and honor than
eye has seen, or than it has entered into the heart of mortal man to
conceive.
I did not visit these graves with the feeling that some of the
ministers of orthodox churches sought to impress upon my mind in my
youth—I did not believe that they were consigned to eternal punishment
because they believed differently from what I did. I went there
feeling a confidence that honorable men and women would receive
honorable treatment from a just God. In speaking on this subject, I
designed simply to wake up the hearts of my brethren and sisters to
the necessity of maintaining this honor, and to the fact that, as we
advance in the things of the kingdom, greater sacrifices and more
faith and diligence are required on our part.
I visited, in the course of my journey, the place where Joseph Smith's
father was born—Topsfield, Massachusetts. I was in the house he was
born in, and upon the farm where the family had resided three
generations previous, they having resided in that county—Essex—as
early as 1666. One object of my visit was to obtain some historical
information in relation to the family of Joseph Smith. It was about
eighty-one years since my grandfather moved away from that place, at
which time my father was eleven years old, and Joseph's father
twenty-one, they being bro thers. It would seem strange that,
after the lapse of eighty-one years, I should find anyone who knew my
grandfather, yet I saw several persons who stated that they were
personally acquainted with him, although they could not remember when
he moved away; but after doing so, he returned to that neighborhood,
and visited his relatives and acquaintances, and they had distinct
recollections of him, and gave me reminiscences of his history.
The graveyard at Topsfield contained no monuments over about eighty
years old. I do not recollect the exact date. Among the oldest were
the names of my great aunts and other relatives. Being a firm believer
in the doctrine of baptism for the dead, I was anxious to procure the
names of those departed persons wherever our records might be
deficient, and I have, I believe, a prospect of obtaining the names of
about nine hundred of the kindred of my great grandmother—Priscilla
Gould.
The old portion of the burying ground at Topsfield, used by the early
inhabitants, is totally without monuments—no gravestones whatever, so
that I presume they simply used headboards or monuments of wood; and
the place is now reserved as a sacred precinct in which, we were told
that any of the kindred of those ancient worthies of the town might
plant gravestones if they choose, but no person is allowed to be
buried there. The cemetery had been enlarged, and from eighty years
ago down to the present time there had been placed there many
gravestones and handsome obelisks, some manifesting the pride and
aristocracy of those who placed them there. I noticed one
particularly, on which was inscribed a notice to the effect that the
person buried there was a millionaire. It did not say whether he
obtained money honestly or by some other means.
In visiting the office of the town clerk, I examined the record kept
by my great grandfather in 1776-8, at which time he was the clerk of
that town. I also found, by examining the records ten years before
then, that he had represented the town in the Legislature of the
Colony of Massachusetts, and was a very firm supporter of the
Revolution. Just as I was about leaving the office to go to the
railway station, I was told by the clerk that he had a list of the
names of the children of Robert Smith in the town record. Robert Smith
was supposed by us to be the first of our family who settled in
Massachusetts, sometime previous to the year 1665. I there ascertained
what our family records fail to show. Our records show that he had a
son Samuel, and that Samuel had a son Samuel, and that Samuel had a
son Samuel and a son Asael, and Asael was our grandfather; but I
ascertained that this Robert Smith had a large family, and their names
are contained in that old town record.
The Genealogical Society of Massachusetts has got out books containing
the records of some hundreds of the families of the oldest settlers of
the colony. If our friends here, whose ancestors were buried in New
England, would unite in purchasing an entire set of these works, they
would be enabled to find collateral, if not direct, branches of their
kindred; and so obtain a key to help them in making the necessary
records to attend to the ordinances for their dead. But our faith is,
brethren and sisters, that when we have exhausted all the powers
within our natural reason and reach to obtain a knowledge of our dead,
and the Lord is satisfied with us, revelations will be opened to our
understandings by which we will be able to trace back our
genealogy to the time when men were within the pale of the principles
and laws of the Priesthood, before these ordinances were changed and
the everlasting covenant broken.
In conversing with Mr. Zaccheus Gould and his wife, of Topsfield, over
eighty years old, and Dr. Humphrey Gould, of Rowe, who were cousins,
of my father, I was enabled to pick up many very satisfactory items of
information. I am also under obligation to Mr. John H. Gould, of
Topsfield, and to the town clerk of that place, Mr. Towne, for
valuable letters and papers relating to the history of our family, all
of which, as they relate to the ancestry of Joseph Smith, will form an
interesting page in connection with his history when it shall be
published.
I do not design, in conversing with you at the present time, to
enumerate the visits I made, though they remind me of a remark made
concerning me by my grandfather on the last day of his life. He died
in his eighty-eighth year, I being then in my fourteenth year. Said
he, "George A. is a rather singular boy. When he comes here, instead
of going to play as the rest of my grandchildren do, he comes into my
room and asks me questions about what occurred seventy or eighty years
ago." It seemed to me, while I was absent that I was pursuing the same
course yet, for although I had got pretty well along in years, I still
wanted to talk with the old folks.
At Woonsocket, R. I., I visited Mrs. Tryphena Lyman, a cousin of my
mother, in her 94th year, who was living with her unmarried
daughter, an agreeable young lady in her 70th year. I had a very
pleasant visit with them, and from them I learned some interesting
incidents of my mother's ancestors. From my cousins, Mr. and Mrs.
Simon D. Butler, of South Colton, N.Y., I obtained a copy of the
family record of my great-grandfather, Deacon John Lyman, written by
his own hand in his family Bible—now 200 years old. Mrs. Butler has
been my most faithful correspondent among all my relatives, and my
meeting with her and her husband was more like meeting a brother and
sister than cousins.
It is very well known that, by the election of a convention of
delegates from all the counties of this Territory, held in this city,
Ex-Governor Fuller and myself went to attend the Republican Convention
at Philadelphia. Persons appeared there and objected to me because I
was a "Mormon," and the committee on credentials did not think proper
to allow the representatives of the people of Utah a seat in that
convention, consequently we retired, believing, fully, that the time
would come in our country when men will not be questioned in relation
to their religious faith or practice, when called upon to perform the
duties of citizens, but that if they are firm and upright supporters
of the Constitution and laws of their country, that will be all that
will be required of them. I then took the opportunity to make these
visits, which I had designed doing years before, and which I believe
will result in good. I did not seek to be publicly known; I made no
attempts to preach, though invited at different times to do so; and I
must say for the credit of New England, that I had the offer of a
Christian church to preach in. I say this to show that New England is
improving in its religious faith, that is, there is less bigotry there
now than there has been at certain periods. I could have had numerous
opportunities to preach, but I wished to make my journey one of
rest, and addressed but one public congregation, and that was last
Sabbath in the Latter-day Saints' Hall, Brooklyn.
While at Philadelphia I met Mr. E. W. Foster, Supervisor of Potsdam,
my native town, he being a member of the convention, and one of the
committee on credentials before whom our claim to a seat was
contested. After leaving Philadelphia I visited Potsdam, and an
incident occurred there which I will name. On landing at the railway
station, Mr. Foster happened to be there, and recognizing me, he
called me by name, and bid me welcome to the town. A very
respectable-looking aged lady, hearing the name, stepped up to him and
inquired if I was George A. Smith, and being answered in the
affirmative, she seized my hand and said, "I want to thank you, your
father saved my life." "Why, when?" "A good many years ago." "How?"
"We were broken through the ice into the lake, and at the risk of his
own life he saved mine." The cars were about starting, and she rushed
from me and said, "My name was Eliza Courier." I really thought the
incident worth naming, as occurring in the place of my birth, and from
which I had gone nearly forty years before.
By the courtesy of General N. S. Elderkin, I had the privilege of
visiting the State Normal School at Potsdam, and was very much pleased
with the institution. The vast improvements which have been made in
buildings, machinery, roads, transportation, and telegraphs, have
certainly not been altogether inapplicable to the progress of
education. When I received my education, an ordinary school master
received nine dollars a month, and twelve if he was a first class
teacher; and he could cut blue beech switches enough in a day, and
perhaps less, to thrash the scholars the entire winter, and they were
applied very freely. I used to think I got more than my share. I
thought I could not watch the schoolmaster as well as some others, my
eyes were not quite so good. But I noticed on my visit a very
desirable change in their school government; the cultivation of the
mind is the object sought now, and the teacher has become the friend
as well us the preceptor of the pupil. The blue beech seems to be
pretty well banished, and there is a marked improvement in the whole
system of education, as well as in telegraphing, railroading,
machinery, and architectural works generally.
I met several of my old schoolfellows, who were glad to see me, and
treated me with courtesy. Among these I should mention General
Elderkin, a man of influence and who never, in the darkest hour of our
persecutions, has failed to recognize me as an old schoolfellow and
friend, notwithstanding he had high religious notions. I met other
gentlemen of this kind.
We are all passing to the tomb, and we want to leave a good record,
that is, one that will be pleasing to the Lord. It is not a very lofty
ambition for a man to spend his life so as to have it recorded on his
tombstone that he died worth a million dollars; but if he spend his
life in doing good, that will be a record that will be to his
everlasting honor, and will prove to him treasure in heaven. People
say, "You Mormons believe all will be damned except yourselves." We
know for ourselves that this is the work of God, and we know that
every Latter-day Saint that is faithful to his profession and calling
will attain to celestial glory. We also further know that God has extended, in his order, to all the human race, glory, honor,
immortality and blessings in accordance with their works, whether good
or evil. Read the vision in the Book of Covenants, and the 13th
chapter of Paul's epistle to the Corinthians and judge for
yourselves; and while we should struggle to obtain the greater
blessings, we should never disparage those who may fall short of
attaining the highest glory. There is a glory of the sun, the Apostle
informs us, also a glory of the moon, and a glory of the stars, and as
one star differeth from another, so do these different degrees of
glory differ. But in these various glories will be found all
denominations and all honorable men—every one in accordance with those
things which he has done in this life; and, says the Savior, "Suffer
little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of
heaven."
As I passed by the site of the old academy, I said to General
Elderkin, "There I received my Presbyterian baptism." "So did I," said
he. I did not wish to raise a question in relation to the subject with
him at all. He is now, I believe, a member of the Episcopal Church,
and I, of course, am a Latter-day Saint; but the man who sprinkled the
water on our foreheads, taught that hell was full of infants not a
span long. The idea was horrible to me from the time I first heard it.
"Suffer little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of
heaven," says the Savior; and if we live in the sight of God as
innocent, pure and holy as little children, we shall attain to the
glory of the sun. May God enable us to do so through Jesus our
Redeemer. Amen.
- George A. Smith