"The history of the people of God as we read it in the Bible, repeats itself in a remarkable manner in the Church of Jesus Christ upon the earth to-day, and those who need a testimony of its truth, I advise them to compare and observe the workings of the self-same spirit of antagonism, and they will hardly need another."

I select a portion of one of Mrs. King's poems; her prose and verse are alike, always lofty in character; her prose writings would form more than one valuable volume for the libraries of the Saints, or indeed those not of our faith. Historical and character sketches seem a peculiar gift with her. Among the many admirers of her poems the English Saints regard her with special fondness, for is she not their own? and they anticipate her contributions, as we look forward to flowers of spring, to summer's wealth of fruits, to autumn's harvest time.

REST.

"I've fought the battle all my life
Of outward foes and inward strife;
The strife which flesh and spirit feel
As keenly as the barbed steel;
For ah! my soul has longed to be
A perfect thing for God to see!
And feels impatient for the time
When I the heavenly heights shall climb,
The good, in all the ages past,
My eyes in love I've ever cast,
Would imitate, admire, and aim
Their glorious pinnacles to gain;
A pedestal to call my own,
One which my form might rest upon;
My spirit feet cannot yet stand
Upon the platform they command,
But well I know I have been blest,
And shall, in time, attain the rest;
And I have sometimes felt ere while
I moved 'neath God's effulgent smile
That shed around me warmth and peace,
And gave my captive mind release.
The earth and every living thing
Did tribute to my spirit bring;
And then my soul was born anew,
Begotten by the warmth and dew
Which God's own spirit cast around,
And placed my feet on holy ground.
All things seemed tinged with light of heaven,
My friends most loved, my foes forgiven!
The fountain in my heart, to me
Brought 'living water,' ecstacy!

* * * * * * * * * *

A little Goshen was my home,
For joy and peace around it shone;
And labor's self became delight,
Making all healthy, strong and bright;
And loving spirits gathered there
As angels faithful, fond and fair.
Was I not blest? Yes, I WAS blest,
And truly 'twas a time of rest;
Yes, rest from sorrow I had known,
In youth, my sun but rarely shone,
But, oh! I fought for joy and peace,
And God, in mercy, sent release.
And blest me with so bright a time
That's rarely known in earthly clime!
And grateful did my soul arise
To Him who gave this paradise.
But, oh! this picture! its reverse!
A mighty contrast did disperse;
The light and warmth would be withdrawn
And I left freezing and forlorn;
The heavens seemed brass above my head,
The earth looked dark as molten lead;
My God was hid beneath a cloud
And I, like corse within its shroud!
Alone, forsaken, desolate thing
Hoarding my sorrows like a sting
That probed and barbed my stranded soul,
And well-nigh crushed all self-control;
The loved and loving were away,
And I to foes was left a prey;
It seemed all blessings were withdrawn,
And I left stranded and forlorn,
To see if I would faithful stand
And still hold on to virtue's hand.
Yes, many such ordeal I've passed,
And know I have not seen the last.
Oh! Father! take my shrinking soul
Beneath Thy love and sweet control;
Thy feeble, trembling child, oh spare!
Lay on no more than I can bear.
May I endure unto the end,
Whatever trials may portend;
But Thou alone must bear me up,
Or I shall fail to drain the cup."

AUGUSTA JOYCE CROCHERON.

"In the original design of the picture Representative Women of Deseret, I did not include myself, but by the request of those whose wishes I have always endeavored to fulfill, now do so, although there are several to whom I would prefer giving place.

"I was born in Boston, Massachusetts, October 9, 1844. My father was John Joyce, from St. John, New Brunswick—his parents were both from England. I have heard my mother say that my uncle, Oliver Joyce, planted the English flag on the Chinese wall at the time of the war (about 1840) between those countries. I do not know whether he was an officer, color bearer or ordinary private.

"My mother, Caroline A. Joyce, was the eldest daughter of John Perkins, a sea captain, and his wife, Caroline Harriman. The Perkins and Harriman families were among the early Puritan emigrants, the property they first built upon still being in the possession of their descendants. I have heard my mother speak of the oak stairs and floors being so worn with age that they bent beneath the tread even when she was a child. My mother's mother was the daughter of Elder John Harriman, well known in New Hampshire as the occasional traveling companion of Lorenzo Dow, but more particularly as the founder of a sect called the 'New Light Christian Baptists.' He was the son of John Harriman and the daughter of a Penobscot chief who was friendly to the white people, and permitted his only daughter to receive Christian baptism, and she was afterwards married to him publicly in church. This union afforded peace and security to the settlers and gave them the alliance if needed, of a powerful tribe. The son of this marriage received an education and married. A few weeks after, and at the age of twenty-one, he 'received a visit from a personage who gave him a new doctrine to preach to the children of men.' He awoke his wife, Ruth, told her the vision and she believed him. In the morning he began to arrange his worldly affairs so as not to interfere with his call and began to preach, accompanied by his young wife, who rose when he had done speaking and bore her testimony to what he had said. He traveled a certain circuit, holding two and three days' meetings wherever he stopped, building up quite a large church in his locality. He preached seventy-one years and died at the age of ninety-two. He never cut his hair from the time of his call to the ministry, and sometimes wore it braided in a queue, sometimes flowing in waves upon his shoulders, as in his portrait. His wife, Ruth, lived beyond her one hundredth birthday. His son, John, became a minister, but his daughter (my grandmother) was more worldly minded. Once when he entered the room she was standing before a mirror surveying her appearance, being attired for some special occasion. He quietly stepped up to her and with a pair of scissors cut off the long black ringlets that fell like a mantle upon her bare shoulders, saying; 'These come between you and your God.' This did not, however, quench the worldly spirit within her, for she at the age of sixteen eloped with and was married to John Perkins, a young sea captain, a God-fearing man but not a church member then or ever afterwards in this life. She was very industrious, however, and had at that age spun all her bed and table linen, etc. She became quite a politician and used to write articles of that character, and the young men of the town used to gather round her hearth and ask her opinion on political matters. She also composed for them campaign songs, both words and music. My mother has told me the only dancing she ever saw in her childhood was when her mother, inspired by the patriotic songs she would be singing, would dance to and fro at her spinning, instead of stepping—improvising step and figure. She had eight sons that she said she was 'raising for her country.' Sure enough two of them went to the war (twenty years ago) and laid down their lives; Warren and Andrew Jackson, (so named because he was born on the day of President Jackson's second inauguration.) Grandma was an Andrew Jackson Democrat, he was her very beau ideal of a man. Charles served two terms and returned safe. Lawrence, my patriot grandmother's youngest boy, enlisted at seventeen and was sent back; 'Too young,' they told him, but he waited one year and went again and this time they took him, and he too was spared to return home.

"Thaddeus sailed to Labrador through many years, and John to the West Indies. Her eldest daughter was my mother. When my mother heard and received the Gospel in Boston, she hastened home to bear the good tidings and obtain their permission for her baptism. She found them bitterly opposed to this, her father reticent, her mother reproachful. Just at this time Elder John Harriman arrived to hold a three days' meeting. Preparations had been made for his coming, and on his arrival my grandmother received him in her best parlor and after the usual salutations were over, unfolded to him the story of my mother's conversion, that she had gone insane and wanted to join the Mormons. He asked, 'Where is Caroline?' adding, reflectively, 'if the Lord has any more light for the children of men, I for one am willing to receive it.' His grandchild, overhearing this, was filled with joy. Her mother came out and told her to put on her bonnet and shawl. Not knowing what was wanted of her to perform she obeyed, and by the time she was ready, found her brother, John, waiting with a horse and sleigh, and seating herself therein was rapidly whirled away to some relatives several miles distant, to remain there until sent for. Said she, 'I never saw my grandfather again.' This was a specimen of my grandma's executive ability; no circumlocution about her.

"I will give her own account of her receiving the Gospel, from a portion of her manuscripts:

"'In the year 1842, I was living in the city of Boston, State of Massachusetts. One day I heard that a strange sect were preaching in Boylston Hall, they professed to believe in the same Gospel as taught by Jesus Christ and the ancient Apostles. I went to hear them. As we entered the hall they were singing a new song—the words were: