Not long ago I was in a branch of the church most of the members of which I had baptized. A bad element in that neighborhood had fought us from the start, and at one time it nearly burst into mobocracy. Some of the brethren were very hospitable—in fact they all were—and uncommonly lenient and forbearing. Notwithstanding the outrageous talk and lies, the wicked threats, and the unseemly conduct of their enemies, who lived near by, they still accommodated them with frequent loans and in various ways.

The brethren were superior to them in this world's goods and in comforts and temporal advantages. Many of the homesteaders file who are almost at the complete mercy of others, having nothing to begin with. And besides these favors and charities on the part of the brethren, ranging from trifles to actual cash, they now and then attended the meetings of their ungrateful opposers, though this favor was not reciprocated. The reciprocation of the former favor was rarely if ever needed. A Ladies' Aid Society was conducted by our enemies and meetings held fortnightly to which our sisters' attendance was eagerly solicited, at least that of one sister who had formerly been connected with their church and was in a position to render them material aid in a financial way. This sister, out of a good pure motive, had kept up her membership in said society after her baptism, and continued to assemble with them from time to time to unite in the quiltings, sewings, or whatsoever constituted the order of the occasion. She acted under the impression that the proceeds were to be applied in a benevolent manner. Ostensibly the institution was conducted for this purpose and it is strange that the members of it, who must have known, were by no means forward to disclose the specific application of the sums collected—to disclose the information to our sister.

My counsel was solicited on the subject. I advised something like this: "Learn what is to be done with the proceeds. If it is to pay their preacher I would have nothing to do with it. I should dissent at once from helping to maintain what we teach should not exist. I would not go. But if it is to be used to pay for the shed, the organ, or something the good and benefits of which we may all be sharers. then I say join in and help them; do your part."

Sometime while this condition of things obtained, and before our most conscientious sister became satisfied to act on my advice, the society assembled at her house according to arrangements. Some of the bachelors came and the husbands of the wives. For the most part they were a lot who hated our religion and our church and despised our leaders. Of course, their preacher came with them. They had their feast, their collection, and went merrily away.

Soon after the incident I had occasion to spend a happy week in the midst of these dear brethren who were never tired of talking gospel, and what in Latter Day Saint parlance might pass for being "in the spirit of the work." Yes; they were in the spirit of the work, in the enjoyment of the serene Spirit for which I must say they prayed and lived, and they were moving ahead with a celerity—with experiences—that we would think wonderful if we read them in print.

During my short stay, there was a sister no less spiritual, and longer in the church, more experienced, who came to spend a few days with the brethren. For I must include parenthetically, on the prairie here Saints visit each other and think nothing of keeping a house full for eating and sleeping. What one has is free to the rest. Few of them have been brought up in the stingy cities where they are accustomed to the emptiness of "calls."

The sister alluded to had a vision, a wakeful vision, which she related on the following morning about like this:

"A messenger took me by the hand and led me out of the bedroom into the main room where the people were all engaged at dinner. The preacher sat at the end of the table. I saw a number of five-cent pieces come out of the potatoes provided by the brethren here as they lay on the different plates. I noticed that the money was collected together and finally went into the hands of the preacher, who smiled and expressed much gratification. I noticed also that the money as it first made its appearance was of its natural color, was very light; but as soon as it went his hands it turned dark. After dinner was served the brethren all retired to the kitchen and left for a time the rest of the visitors to themselves. The messenger invited me to 'look.' I obeyed. I saw them laugh and make faces at the picture of our Elder ———— on the wall. One young man took a silver dollar and tossed it against the picture and broke the glass. The dollar fell back on the carpet and burned a hole in it where it lay. None of them seemed to observe the messenger and me. For the evident purpose of concealment he had stationed us behind the stove. We therefore watched their performances unobserved 'til they departed.

"But before they went away and directly after the picture was broken and the dollar had had the singular effect of firing the carpet, the brethren in the kitchen returned. They immediately put the fire out. I tried in vain to call the attention of the brethren to the broken picture. No sign that I could make seemed to attract them. They saw it not. And when those who were not of the church were in the act of retiring, the sister of the house invited them to come again—to have another 'aid' here, of course. At this invitation the messenger who stood by my side shook so greatly that it caused me to shake too. They all retired.

"Whether they forgot it or not, they left the record containing the names of their members. The messenger said to me, "Stay here.' He walked to the table, picked up the record and tore out a leaf. He brought the leaf to the stove and threw it in. As he did this last act I stooped over to see what the leaf contained, and I saw it contained the name of Sr. ———.

"Next the messenger went into the pantry and brought a broom, an old one which was the worse for wear. He turned it over, examined it closely, and put it away as if it were not serviceable for the work intended. He went into another apartment and secured another broom, this time one clean and new. With it he swept out the room, the crumbs, fragments, and everything the visitors had left, locked the door after them, and put the broom away. Then walking up to the picture, the glass of which had been broken, he rubbed his hand over the glass, restoring it to its former perfectness, and disappeared."

The interpretation is almost self-presenting. I submit it to the reader. It may be a useful guideboard to others who have and do breathe the atmosphere of uncertainty under like circumstances.

She who runs to the stagnant well of her enemy when her own is running over will empty the cup of her spirituality upon the ground.

I will give my physical life for a true man, but my spiritual life for no one. In the cistern of the religious world is malaria and contagion. Look from afar. Touch not, taste not, handle not, lest thou be lured from thy station and lose thy crown. They who have known only poison can endure what would kill thee in a single hour.

—Autumn Leaves for July, 1905. Fillmore, Assiniboia, Canada.