marriage and honored and respected my father and the law of God, which had enabled her to become his wife. She had been married but one year when my father died. After his death she lived in poverty and endured the trials and hardships incident to that condition of life. She did so patiently, never complaining but rejoicing all the day long in her knowledge of the Gospel and the hope of a glorious resurrection. Years rolled by and her only son became a man, and through him she received a blessing greater than any other which could be given to a mother having faith in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Her only son was called to be an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, and his call came by direct revelation from our Father in Heaven to the Prophet John Taylor. No language can tell the joy which would fill the heart of a Latter-day Saint mother at such an event, and I shall not attempt to paint her feelings in words, as my effort to do so would be an utter failure.

I was called to the office of an Apostle before I was twenty-six years of age, and the call came not because of any labors which I had performed nor because of any claim which I had upon my Heavenly Father to be chosen to fill such an exalted position. It came because of the faithful teachings of my mother and on account of the faithful labors of my father, who died when I was a babe nine days old.

Well do I remember being overwhelmed with my own lack of experience and unworthiness, and that the office seemed greater than it was possible for me to magnify. I was impressed constantly with a feeling that I ought to resign the position, but knowing that John Taylor was a Prophet of God, I appreciated the fact that I could not resign without repudiating the revelation which he had received, calling me to be

an Apostle. The adversary of men's souls took advantage of the knowledge which I possessed of my own unworthiness to be an Apostle of the Lamb of God. I had been honest and virtuous all my life, and had followed the teachings of a true and lovely mother, but I could not shake off the feeling of depression which came upon me every time that I stopped to think of the magnitude of the position to which I had been called, and my own lack of knowledge to fulfill faithfully the duties of the same. This feeling followed me from October-the time when my call came-until the following February, when it was manifested to me that I had been chosen to be an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, not on account of my own ability, nor because of any great labor which I had performed in in the Church which would entitle me to such an exalted position, but because of the faithful labors of my father, Jedediah M. Grant, who with the Prophet Joseph Smith had requested the Lord to call me to be an Apostle. When I received this manifestation, the feeling which had been with me day and night and which had impressed me with my own unworthiness and made life almost miserable, entirely disappeared, and I have never been bothered with it from that day to the present. I was also given to understand at the time of this manifestation, that my future in the Church of Christ depended solely upon my own faithfulness, and that I would stand or fall according to my own diligence in keeping the commandments of the Lord.

Perhaps one reason why I had a desire, when reading Sister Young's stories, to write something for the Journal, was because one brought vividly to my mind the truthfulness of the teaching that blessings do descend to children through faithfulness of parents; and also be

supply.

The flame shall not hurt thee, I only design

Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.

"The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose

I will not, I cannot desert to his foes; That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,

I'll never, no never, no never forsake!"

"God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps on the sea,
And rides upon the storm."

The singer, a tall, spare, middleaged, but good-looking man, paused on the last word, stretched his long legs further toward the cheerful grate-fire, put his hands into his pockets, and tilting his chair back as far as he conveniently could, said musingly:

"They sang that hymn at meeting today. It has always been a favorite with me. I never hear it nowadays, that it doesn't bring to my mind an incident which I believe I will relate sometime, for the benefit of those whose faith needs bolstering up a bit."

"No time like the present," said his companion, a younger man, with a curly head, and most engaging smile. "The storm will not let you out this morning, so you may as well narrate your story, and I will take notes for your further convenience in writing it up. You know, a story improves with age, especially if it is told over a few times at intervals."

"Oh, as to that," said the first speaker, "I shall have to stick to facts, as the hero lives right in our midst today; and I might be called

to give an account of my misdoings, should I distort the facts in the case. As to notes, I promised I promised Sister Julia here that she might have the materials, with which to weave her

next romance. So if she will take

notes I will tell the story.

"Do you know Brother Inglehaus?" continued the speaker, after a pause.

"Inglehaus?" queried the other. "Oh, yes, I know him, lives in our Married Bishon Bishon Miller's ward. daughter."

"Same man. Ever hear his sto

ry?"

"Never did.”

"Well, that's what I am going to tell you. You see I went back east last September, partly on nublic,and partly on private business. A part of my public labor was to be the visiting of a number of conferences, through which I was to pass on my journey. I arrived at the city of Clate on Saturday night. No one met me, as I expected they would do. But having the address of the Flders' headquarters, I had no difficulty in finding the place. Only one Elder, the clerk, was at home; the rest were out on the streets holding meetings. I found, upon in

quiry, however, that a meeting had been extensively advertised for the following day, to be held in a large hall in that vicinity. A number of Elders from other laces had arrived, and others were yet expected. Among the latter was the president of the mission, Brother Inglehaus, and his wife, who was also engaged in the same good labor. 1 had never met President Inglehaus, though I had heard something of his peculiar history, and felt some curiosity concerning him. The party, headed by President Inglehaus, were late in arriving the next day, so we began our services. A quartet of fine singers among our Elders rendered the hymn, 'God moves in a mysterious way.' I was asked to speak, and my mind was led to speak in this direction. I traced the history of the Saints from the first vision of the boy Joseph, until the present, showing how God had worked to build un His kingdom by mysterious and unthought of methods. from our human standpoint. I had scarcely begun speaking, when I noticed a number of people come in together and take seats near the door. I was listened to respectfully by a large audience, and when I sat down, the people spoken of arose and came forward to the front. After handshakings and quiet but heartfelt greetings, he, who seemed to be the leader, stepped forward and addressed the people. It was President Inglehaus. After apologizing for their late entrance, he bore testimony to the truth of that which I had spoken, and then said:

"I would like to tell you a story. It is a true story, and bears upon the subject of the Lord's dealings with His children. It is the story of a life, and a soul's salvation. There was once a young man, a native of your city, who had removed to the country in his early boyhood. He was of German extraction, but it had been several generations since

his ancestors left the fatherland. His father was a well-to-do farmer, a church member in good standing. and a loyal citizen of the Republic. His mother was a lady, well-educated, sensible, religious, and of a deeply poetical temperament. While possessing some of the traits of both parents, the boy seemed to inherit others from some of his earlier progenitors. Being the only son in a large family of girls, it was intended. that the broad acres of his sire should descend to him, and that he should follow in the footsteps of his honored parent. But he early evinced a dislike for farming, and the distaste increased with his years. He was fond of reading, but disliked to be tied down to the set forms of school or college course. He loved nature in all her forms, but the wilder and more rugged she appeared, the better pleased was he.

"Like many other boys, he went through all those phases of feeling which impelled him to run away to sea, to be a pirate, a free-booter, an Indian fighter, anything but a sober, useful citizen.

""The only thing in his case, which prevented him from indulging in some wild freak, was the thought of his gentle, devoted mother, between whom and himself there existed a strong bond of sympathy.

"When, at last, she was taken from him, and his sisters were married or engaged in some kind of business for themselves, with the prospect of a new mistress to take the place of his revered mother, the last restraint seemed to be broken away.

""The story is the same we have so often heard: There was the same stealthy preparations; the writing of a little note, to leave on the table in his room; the bundling of a few clothes together; the quiet stealing away in the still hours of the night into an unknown and untried world. I think the boy, we will call him Rob, had little idea of where he was

going, or what he wished to do. The present object was to get away, where he would not be obliged to be a farmer, or to greet the newcomer in his father's home.

"He had a little money, very little, but he was wise enough to reserve it in case of desperate need. So he avoided the railroads and public highways, and took to the woods and fields. Here he was in his element. It being summer time, he emerged from his secluded path only when he needed food, and slept wherever night overtook him.

"He took a westward course, without fore-thought, however, which in course of time brought him to the Missouri River. It took him a month to reach this point, weary, ragged, and penniless. He had known -many hardships, yet he had not faltered, or felt any inclination to turn back. This is a part of the mystery, that he should have a home of plenty and indulgence, to go forth into the world as a mere tramp, having no object in view but adventure; and yet, that he should feel no tinge of homesickness.

"He found work in a thriving city on the banks of the great, muddy river, but only kept it a few days. A company of emigrants just starting westward to hunt new homes, offered to take him as far as they went, giving him carriage and food in exchange for his services in assisting to drive a herd of cattle.

"He grasped eagerly at this opportunity, for no special reason, except that he wanted to be on the

move.

"His employer proved to be a violent tempered man, irrational and unreasonable; yet Rob bore with him patiently, until it was made manifest that he was also dishonest and al

most criminal in some of his acts. Being convinced of this he took French leave, one fine fine moonlight night, and again took up his journey alone and on foot.

"Human habitations were now becoming so scarce that he found it necessary to make his line of march along the railroad. He suffered many hardships, but nlodded bravely. on toward the setting sun.

"A great change had come over him in the few months since leaving his home. He went from his father's house, a fresh-cheeked, bright-eyed school boy. He was now a bronze-faced, bearded man, inured to dangers, and to the rough life of the pioneer.

"He had been thrown into all kinds of society. particularly the low and debasing kind, but strange to say, he had preserved intact his purity of life. In the way described, he reached the city of Denver.

"He had, thus far, worked his way without being reduced to absolute beggary, and without coming into contact with any officer of the law. Weary, hungry and almost dispirited, after several ineffectual attempts to get a supper by doing some light work, he sat down on the steps of a church to rest. Overcome by absolute fatigue, he fell asleep. Leaning against its massive door, he must have slept several hours, when he was rudely awakened by a rough but not unkind voice, bidding him get up and go home. The voice was accompanied by a firm hand on his shoulder, which gave him a vigorous shake.

"He staggered to his feet, halfdazed, and managed to convey the intelligence that he had no home, hence he could not go to it.

"""Oh,' said the man, who proved to be a policeman, 'you belong to ful enough around here nowadays. the genus tramp. They are plenti'Spose you've come from the shutdown silver mines?'

"No, I have never seen a silver mine,' said Rob.

"Humph! that's queer. Well, come along, I'll give you a lodging