The Work and the Glory

by Gerald N. Lund

  Benjamin agreed that Mr. Lincoln sounded like what they were looking for, and the next day they went down to the small offices of Logan and Lincoln, attorneys at law. The man had been right. Lincoln was a man to bring you up short when you first looked at him. He was tall and lanky, still carrying himself like a gangly teenaged boy outgrowing his own body, and his movements were slow and deliberate. Gray eyes peered out from beneath heavy brows above a large nose, a firm mouth, and a prominent chin. His expression seemed to carry an air of eternal sadness about it—until he smiled; then the eyes literally danced with inner amusement and the mouth broke into a generous grin.

  They spent only half an hour with him. He looked over their contracts, made three or four minor suggestions, and charged them a dollar. As they stood and moved toward the door, Mr. Lincoln came out from around his desk and joined them. “Did Noah warn you about my being a strange-looking duck?” he asked with a droll smile.

  “Noah?” Benjamin asked, taken aback a little by the directness of the question.

  “Yes, Noah Goodson, the proprietor at the hotel. Usually he also tells people how strange I look.”

  Nathan laughed in spite of himself. “Yes, he did, as a matter of fact.”

  “Well,” Lincoln drawled, “it’d be a little harder to swallow if it weren’t so true.” He chuckled, and it was a deep rumbling sound down inside his chest. “In fact, one time, while I was out riding circuit, I was just sitting down for supper in a small country inn. A man came up to me, staring at my face. Then suddenly he pulled out a pistol and pointed it right at my head.

  “ ‘Beggin’ your pardon, sir,’ he said, obviously in great distress, ‘but I’ve always told myself if I ever found a man who was uglier than me, I’d shoot the poor fellow and put him out of his misery.’”

  Benjamin was staring at him, not sure if Lincoln was serious or not. “What did you do?”

  Lincoln seemed totally dejected. “Well, I looked him up and down real slow, and then I said, ‘Sir, if I really am uglier than you, you go ahead and shoot, because life ain’t worth living.’ ”

  Both Nathan and Benjamin exploded with laughter. After a moment, Lincoln, now smiling, reached out and shook both their hands. “Gentlemen, thank you for your business and good luck with your land investments.”

  They left and returned to the hotel and told Noah Goodson the story. The hotel keeper roared even more loudly than they had. That afternoon they went back to the two banks, signed the amended contracts, and received the notes for the necessary funds. The following morning, they were back on the road west.

  Chapter Notes

  The revelation concerning the Twelve’s taking part in the running of the Times and Seasons was given on 28 January 1842 (see HC 4:503). Joseph then appointed Wilford Woodruff and John Taylor in the positions mentioned (see HC 4:513–14).

  Orson Hyde left Nauvoo on 15 April 1840 and did not return until almost three years later on 7 December 1842. He worked, preached, wrote, and published on three continents. He journeyed over twenty thousand miles under difficult and sometimes perilous circumstances. It was one of the longest and most significant missions in the early history of the Church, one that rivals in many ways the missionary journeys of the Apostle Paul. (See CHFT, pp. 235–38.)

  On 6 February 1842, Emma gave birth to her eighth child (see J. Christopher Conkling, A Joseph Smith Chronology [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1979], p. 161). It was a stillborn son. It was the fourth child to die at birth or within hours of it, and the sixth child (including one of the adopted twins and Don Carlos) that she lost in death.

  Chapter 16

  Mary Ann watched the women of the family file into Caroline’s parlor, their cheeks red from the cold air outside. There were four missing from the original council—Jessica was in Ramus now with Kathryn. Jenny Pottsworth had stopped coming after she announced formally that she and Andrew Stokes were promised, and her mother gradually stopped coming after that. Finally, as Rebecca and Melissa came in together and found a place on the long sofa beside Olivia, Mary Ann stood. Immediately the chatter of conversation died away and all eyes turned to her.

  “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I know that meeting on an evening other than the Sabbath day is not convenient, but something has come up. I felt like we needed to decide on it immediately rather than delay.”

  That interested them all and now every eye focused intently on her.

  “As you know, winter is almost gone. Our linsey-woolsey project has been very successful. The families we chose to help have been benefitted by all of your work. Several have expressed their deep thanks to me, as I am sure they have to some of you as well.”

  Several heads nodded in confirmation of that.

  “With the coming of spring, the needs of those families will diminish and our work will be mostly finished for a time. Yesterday I was feeling a little saddened by that thought. But then this afternoon I happened to meet Sarah Kimball down at the post office. Do you all know Sister Kimball?”

  Most nodded, but Melissa shook her head.

  “They own the store down near the steamboat landing,” Caroline spoke up. “Hiram isn’t a member of the Church.”

  “Oh, yes,” Melissa answered.

  Lydia nodded. Hiram Kimball’s store was one of the most prosperous in Nauvoo, and he owned other properties as well. He was a well-to-do businessman and his wife was a cultured, gracious woman. She was a member of the Church, he was not. Much like Carl Rogers, Hiram Kimball was friendly to both the Church and its members, but just didn’t seem interested in becoming a Mormon himself. But Sarah was a faithful woman of strong commitment to the Church.

  “Well,” Mary Ann went on, “Sarah told me that the other day she was talking to Margaret Cook, a young woman who does seamstress work for her. Somehow the topic turned to the idea of sewing some shirts for the temple workmen. As you know, the workmen get paid in tithing scrip or other goods, but there just haven’t been any clothes donated. Sister Cook said that she’d really like to do that, but said she had no material and no means for furnishing any to make clothing. Sarah said she’d be happy to furnish the material but was not very good at sewing.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Rebecca spoke up. “Working on the building is very hard on clothing. I can’t believe what happens to Derek’s trousers while he’s in the quarry, and he’s there about every tenth day.”

  “That’s right,” Mary Ann said. “Well, as Sister Kimball and Sister Cook talked about it, they got the idea that there might be other women interested in helping as well. Sarah has known about what we are doing. She and I have talked about it several times. When I told her about our linsey-woolsey project she got very excited. That would be just the solution for getting the material they need.”

  “And it would be really good material for wintertime work,” Jennifer Jo spoke up.

  “Yes. We’ll also try to find some cotton material to make summertime shirts as well. Anyway, I told her that I would call our council together and see if you wanted to join our efforts with theirs. What do you think?”

  Several started to speak at once, but it was evident what their inclination was. In five minutes, Mary Ann had her decision. “Good,” she declared. “That pleases me. I’ll see Sarah in the morning and tell her we are with her on this.”

  Benjamin had the side of his face pressed against the cow’s flank, leaning into her as his hands moved up and down, squeezing, releasing, squeezing, releasing. The milk from the cow’s udder shot in rhythmic streams into the bucket of milk, raising a thick froth on the surface. The bucket was nearly two-thirds full now and the udder considerably reduced in size.

  “Grandpa Steed! Grandpa Steed!”

  He straightened, his hands not slowing at all, and peered around the cow’s rump, watchful that she not swish her tail and catch him in the face. “I’m in the barn,” he called.

  A moment later, Peter Ingalls came dashing through the side door.

  As Pe
ter came slowly forward, Benjamin saw that he carried what appeared to be a newspaper. He was wheezing heavily. “Hello, Grandpa Steed,” he managed between gasps for breath.

  “My goodness, what did you do, run all the way home?”

  Peter moved around and leaned against the side of the stable, still puffing. “Yes, all the way.”

  “Is there anything wrong?”

  He shook his head, then waved the newspaper he held in his hand in Benjamin’s direction. “I’ve got a copy of today’s edition of the paper. Brother Taylor said I could bring it home and show you.”

  “Oh?” Benjamin replied. Peter loved his work at the printing office and would always bring a copy of the Times and Seasons home with him after it had been printed. But that was usually the day after it was sent out to the Saints. This was the first time he had brought one home early.

  “By the way, how was Springfield?”

  “Fine. We got what we were looking for. We just got back last night.”

  “Good.” Peter waved the paper again. “Oh, Grandpa Steed, this is the most marvelous edition. I couldn’t wait to show you and the family.”

  Benjamin nodded, then looked down. The streams of milk were considerably thinner now. “I’m almost done. Let me just strip her out and I’ll be in.”

  Peter nodded, his breathing finally more controlled. “Can you bring Grandma over to our house? I’ll tell Nathan and Lydia. I want them to hear this too. This is exciting, Grandpa.”

  “All right. I’ll get Mother Steed and we’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  It took almost a full ten minutes before the door opened and Lydia and Nathan came in behind Benjamin and Mary Ann. Young Joshua was with them.

  “Good,” Peter exclaimed with great relief. “They’re here.”

  “Come in, everyone,” Derek invited. “Find a seat. Peter is going to burst a blood vessel if we don’t let him get started.”

  They moved in and found chairs, settling in. Peter stood immediately. He reached to the table behind him and retrieved the newspaper. He held it up. “This is today’s edition of the Times and Seasons.” He pointed to just below the masthead. “See? March first, 1842.” Then his face fell and he held the paper back down at his side. “But actually it won’t be ready to print until at least tomorrow, maybe the day after. It’s taken longer to get it ready than we originally planned.”

  Young Joshua turned to his mother in puzzlement. “How can it be today’s paper if it comes out tomorrow?” he asked.

  Peter laughed. “We typeset the paper today, Joshua. This is just one of the first copies we ran to check it for errors. Brother Joseph still wants to check it too.” As Elder Taylor had indicated to Peter might happen, Joseph had indeed stepped in recently as editor of the paper. That meant John Taylor was Joseph’s assistant editor, and Peter worked directly with Elder Taylor as his assistant. “Joseph has two major articles in this edition,” Peter continued. “And that’s what I’m so excited about. They take up almost half the paper.”

  Nathan was dutifully impressed. “That’s a little unusual, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kinds of things did he give you?” Benjamin asked, smiling at Peter’s excitement.

  Peter sobered now. He had spent all day checking the spelling and punctuation and helping set the type. But through the tediousness of the editing and typesetting, Peter’s excitement had only grown. What he had read lit a fire inside him, and he had been thrilled when Brother Taylor agreed to let him bring a copy home to show his family.

  “Well,” he said proudly, “I think you all know about the Egyptian mummies Joseph purchased while we were still back in Kirtland.”

  “Yes,” Benjamin said, “and the papyrus scrolls that were with them.”

  “Pap . . . Pap-eye . . . ,” young Joshua started.

  “Papyrus,” Mary Ann smiled. “It’s a kind of paper that the Egyptians made.” Suddenly her head came up and her eyes widened. “Has Joseph finished the translation?”

  “No,” Peter said exuberantly, “but he’s finished a major part of it and has decided to begin publishing it for the Church. It’s called the book of Abraham.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” Mary Ann said. “After all this time, he’s finally been able to do it.”

  Peter held the paper up again for all to see. On the front page there was a strange black-and-white line drawing above a numbered list. The drawing showed a man lying on a table, with another man standing beside him with an upraised knife. There were also other strange figures above and below the two men. “Look, here’s a picture taken from the papyrus. Joseph had Reuben Hedlock do some woodcuts, copying right from the actual record. There are others too that will appear in later editions.”

  They all leaned forward, peering at the picture. Young Joshua spoke first. “What is it, Peter? It looks like that man has a knife.”

  Peter moved closer, holding the illustration out so that they could see it better. “Joseph is calling these pictures facsimiles.” He looked around at them. “A facsimile is just a copy of something. This one is a picture of Abraham lying on an altar. The man standing beside him is a priest of one of the false gods. You’re right, Joshua, he does have a knife. He’s trying to sacrifice Abraham to this false god.”

  “How do you know that?” Nathan inquired.

  “Because Joseph has printed a key for the picture, see? It’s printed right here below the facsimile. On the pages that follow, the text tells us that Abraham’s father was an idolater. He was willing to offer Abraham to be sacrificed so as to appease the false gods.”

  “Are you sure you’re not talking about Abraham sacrificing Isaac?” Rebecca asked. She had never heard anything about Abraham being sacrificed by his father.

  “No. This is something that the Bible doesn’t tell us. It’s Abraham, all right.” He reached around with one hand and touched the upper corner of the drawing where there was a small figure. “See this bird here? If you read the key below, it says that bird represents the angel of the Lord. The record says that God delivered Abraham.”

  Peter looked around, pleased with the reaction he had created. “Isn’t it wonderful? It’s just like scripture. Imagine, having the writings of Abraham himself from almost four thousand years ago!”

  “That is marvelous,” Derek agreed. “You say this is only part of the translation?”

  “Yes. It’s too long to do in one edition. Also, Joseph is still finishing making us a copy. We’ll publish more of it in the next issue.”

  “Well,” Benjamin said, speaking for all of them. “That really is something, Peter. Read some of it to us.”

  “In a minute, but let me tell you about the other thing Joseph gave us. It’s pretty exciting too.”

  “What is it?” Rebecca asked.

  “Well, a few days ago, Joseph got a letter from a Mr. John Wentworth, who is the editor and proprietor of the Chicago Democrat. That’s a newspaper,” he added for young Joshua’s benefit. “This Mr. Wentworth asked Joseph for a brief summary of his religious experiences and the history of the Church. Mr. Wentworth said he was making the request in behalf of a friend of his, a Mr. George Barstow, who’s writing a history of New Hampshire. Anyway, Joseph wrote Wentworth a long letter back and told him his friend Barstow could publish it as long as he doesn’t change it or add things to it.”

  “And this is in the paper too?” Mary Ann spoke up.

  “Yes,” Peter said excitedly. “Since it is a summary of how Joseph came to be called of God and the rise of the Church in these latter days, he felt that it might be of interest to the Saints as well.”

  “I should say,” Nathan murmured.

  Peter looked at Nathan and Lydia now. “I know that you have known Joseph from the beginning and have heard him tell these stories, about how he first saw God and Christ in the trees near his home, and how Moroni came, but I never have. Oh, I’ve heard him make reference to them, of course, and bear testimony to the truthfulness of those happe
nings, but I’ve not ever heard him personally talk about how it happened and what it was like.”

  “And that’s what he does in this letter?” Lydia asked, leaning forward.

  “Yes, in great detail. In fact, I got so engrossed in reading it, I forgot I was supposed to be preparing it for publication. Brother Taylor had to call me back to my work.”

  “Read some of it to us,” Mary Ann exclaimed. “I want to hear it too.”

  He grinned, pleased that his hoped-for response was forthcoming. “I will, but first there’s something else. Right at the end of the letter, Joseph talks about what we believe as a church. He summarizes our beliefs in thirteen statements, or declarations. They are simple, but as I read them over and over, I was so impressed. I just kept thinking to myself, Yes! That’s what we believe.”

  He searched through the newspaper for a moment. “Let me just give you a couple of examples. The first one talks about how we believe in God the Eternal Father and in Jesus and the Holy Ghost. That wouldn’t come as a surprise to most other churches. But listen to this. ‘We believe that men will be punished for their own sins and not for Adam’s transgression.’ ”

  He stopped to let them consider that. Nathan slowly nodded. “So much for how people think about original sin.”

  “What’s that, Papa?” young Joshua asked.

  “Some churches think that because Adam and Eve did wrong, all of mankind are evil. In other words, all mankind is being punished for what Adam and Eve did.”

  “Here’s another,” Peter went on. “ ‘We believe that a man must be called of God by “prophecy, and by laying on of hands” by those who are in authority to preach the gospel and administer in the ordinances thereof.’ And another, ‘We believe in the same organization that existed in the primitive church, viz: apostles, prophets, pastors, teachers, evangelists, etc.’ ”