An Englishwoman in Utah. Mrs. T. B. H. Stenhouse
for an instant doubt that her expectations had been realized.
Each of the newly-baptized went through the same ceremony, and then they all partook of the sacrament, when, after another hymn, the meeting was closed with prayer.
In the evening I returned, to listen to a lecture upon “the character, spirit, and genius” of the new church, delivered by Elder Stenhouse; and I was captivated by the picture which he drew of the marvellous latter-day work which he affirmed had already begun. The visions of by-gone ages were again vouchsafed to men; angels had visibly descended to earth; God had raised up in a mighty way a Prophet, as of old, to preach the dispensation of the last days; gifts of prophecy, healing, and the working of miracles were now, as in the days of the Apostles, witnesses to the power of God. The long-lost tribes of Israel were about to be gathered into the one great fold of Christ; and the fulness of the Gentiles being come, they, too, were to be taken under the care of the Good Shepherd. All were freely invited to come and cast away their sins, ere it was too late; and the fullest offers of pardon, grace, sanctification, and blessing, in this world and in the next, were presented to every repentant soul.
Surely, I thought, these are the self-same doctrines which my mother taught me, when I knelt beside her in childhood, and which I have so often heard—only in colder and less persuasive language—urged from the pulpits of those whom I have ever regarded in the light of true disciples of Jesus. Who can wonder that I listened with rapt attention, and that my heart was even then half won to the new faith? The days passed; and as I pondered over these things it appeared to me that I had at last found that which I had so long earnestly desired and prayed for—a knowledge of that true religion for which the Saviour presented Himself a Holy Sacrifice, and which the Apostles preached at peril of their lives—the only faith, in which I might find joy and peace in believing.
But why should I dwell upon those moments, soul-absorbing as was their interest to me then—sadly-pleasing as is their memory now! The reader can see the drift of my thoughts at that time; and I feel sure, although I have but hastily sketched the causes which brought about these great changes in my religious belief and in my life, that he will not hastily accuse me of fickleness and love of change, if he himself has fought the battles of the soul, and has learned even in a slight measure to realize the mystery of his inner being.
Each day the finger of destiny drew me nearer to the final step. The young Elder, whose words I had listened to with such strange and, to me, momentous results, was intimate with my father’s family, and called frequently to see us, and before long he convinced me that it was my duty to test for myself whether the work was of God, or not. In the agitated state of my mind at that time, I could not withstand the earnest appeals which were made to my affections and hopes; and within two weeks after my arrival in England I became formally a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; or in more popular language—I became a Mormon.
The day was fixed for my baptism. Several others were to be baptized at the same time; for scarcely a week passed without quite a number of persons joining the Church. For this purpose we all repaired to a bath-house on the banks of the Southampton river. This place was not perhaps the most convenient, and it certainly was devoid of the slightest tinge of romance; but it was the only one available to the saints at that time.
When we were all assembled and had united in singing and prayer, Elder Stenhouse went down into the water first, and then two men went down and were baptized, and came up again. Now came my turn. I was greatly agitated, for I felt all the solemnity of the occasion. I had dressed myself very neatly and purely, for I believed that angel eyes were upon me; I wished to give myself—a perfect and acceptable offering—to my God, and I was filled with the determination henceforth to devote my whole life to His service.
As I went down into the waters of baptism, how thankful I felt that it had been my privilege to hear the gospel in my youth, for now I could give my heart in all its freshness to the Lord, before it had been chilled by the cold, hard experience of life.
I descended the steps, and Elder Stenhouse came forward and led me out into the water; then, taking both my hands in one of his, he raised his other hand towards heaven, and in a solemn and impressive voice he said—
“Fanny; by virtue of the authority vested in me, I baptize you for the remission of your sins; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Then he immersed me in the water; and as I reascended the steps, I really felt like another being: all my past was buried in the deep—the waters of baptism had washed away my sins; and a new life lay open before me, in which my footsteps would be guided by the inspired servants of God. All now would be peace and joy within me, for I had obeyed the commands of God, and I doubted not that I should receive the promised blessing, and that now I could indeed go on my way rejoicing.
My baptism took place one Saturday afternoon, and the afternoon following I was confirmed a member of the Church. Elder Stenhouse presided at the meeting, and he, with Elder Cowdy, and two other elders, confirmed me. As the “blessing” which I then myself received differs somewhat from the one which I have already given, and as it is a very fair specimen of those effusions, I present it to the reader in full.
Elder Stenhouse, Elder Cowdy, and the two other Elders, placed their hands solemnly upon my head, and Elder Stenhouse said—
“Fanny; by virtue of the authority vested in me, I confirm you a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; and inasmuch as you have been obedient to the command of God, through his servants, and have been baptized for the remission of your sins, I say unto you that those sins are remitted. And in the name of God I bless you, and say unto you, that inasmuch as you are faithful and obedient to the teachings of the priesthood, and seek the advancement of the kingdom, there is no good thing that your heart can desire that the Lord will not give unto you. You shall have visions and dreams, and angels shall visit you by day and by night. You shall stand in the temple in Zion, and administer to the Saints of the Most High God. You shall speak in tongues, and prophecy; and the Lord shall bless you abundantly, both temporally and spiritually. These blessings I seal upon your head, inasmuch as you shall be faithful; and I pray heaven to bless you; and say unto you—Be thou blessed, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
After the meeting, I received the congratulations of all the Saints present, and more particularly those of my own family. My dear mother and father were overjoyed; and I now learned how anxious they had been, and how they had feared that I should return to France and reject the faith of the new dispensation. Altogether we were very happy.
Elder Stenhouse and Elder Cowdy returned home with us to tea, and afterwards we all attended the usual evening lecture. In this way was passed one of the happiest days of my life—one which I shall ever remember;—and yet that memory will always be mingled with regret that so much love and devotion as I then felt were not enlisted in a better cause.
Thus began a new era in my life. All my former friends and associations were now to be remembered no more; my lot was cast among the Saints; and in the state of my mind at that time, I believed that I should be happy in my new position, and resolved to give evidence of the sincerity of my faith.
The untiring energy and restless activity of Elder Stenhouse was ever before our eyes, and inspired all who associated with him with a similar enthusiasm. There were no drones in that hive. The brethren, at a word from him, would roam the country, teaching and preaching in the open air, while the sisters would go from house to house in the city, distributing tracts about the new faith. I caught the enthusiasm of the rest, and was soon in the ranks with the other sisters, as devoted in my endeavours as a young, ambitious heart could be. I was indeed like one born again from an old existence into a new life. I felt grateful and happy—I began to dream of the eternal honour which crowns a faithful missionary life; and I soon found an ample field for testing my fitness for that vocation.
At the time of which I speak, the Primitive Methodists in England were doing a great work in the way of converting sinners. Their missionaries were zealous and devoted men, though generally poor and uneducated. They resembled very closely the Mormon elders in their labours; and, in fact,