He had a countenance that at no time bore any of the marks of the
passions of men; and it showed, now, no shadow of the tribulations of
that troubled day. His forehead was unworried. His eyes betrayed none of
the anxieties with which his mind must have been busied. His expression
was one of resolute stern contentment with all things--carrying the
composure of spirit which he wished his people to have. If I had been
agitated by the urgency of his summons to me, and he had wished to allay
my anxiety at once, the sight of his face, as he looked at me, would
have been reassurance enough.

At a characteristic motion of the hand from him, the others left us. We
sat down in the "horsehair" chairs of a well-to-do farmer's parlor--
furnished in black walnut, with the usual organ against one wall, and
the usual marble-topped bureau against the other. I remember the "store"
carpet, the mortuary hair-wreaths on the walls, the walnut-framed
lithographs of the Church authorities and of the angel Moroni with "the
gold plates;" and none of these seem ludicrous to me to remember. They
express, to me, in the recollection, some of the homely and devout
simplicity of the people whose community life this man was to save.

He talked a few minutes, affectionately, about family matters, and then -
straightening his shoulders to the burden of more gravity--he said:
"I have sent for you, my son, to see if you cannot find some way to help
us in our difficulties. I have made it a matter of prayer, and I have
been led to urge you to activity. You have never performed a Mission for
the Church, and I have sometimes wondered if you cared anything about
your religion. You have never obeyed the celestial covenant, and you
have kept yourself aloof from the duties of the priesthood, but it may
have been a providential overruling. I have talked with some of the