The hand of Providence

by J. H. Ward

But it was not till September, 1825, that the first railway for passengers was opened in England. Six years later railway trains were running in America. The improved facilities for traveling by means of steam, have had a wonderful influence upon society. A century ago human society was composed of a multitude of little communities, dwelling apart, mutually ignorant, and therefore, cherishing mutual antipathies. Facilities of travel brought together men of different towns and different countries. They learned how little there was, on either side, to hate, how much to love. Thus ancient prejudice was broken up by the fuller knowledge gained by this extended acquaintance. Peculiarities of dialect and manners grew indistinct, and errors of opinion were corrected by friendly conflict of mind.

In 1832, Samuel F. B. Morse, conceived the idea of the electric telegraph, and in 1837, Congress granted him thirty thousand dollars to aid his great enterprise. In 1844, Professor Morse sent his first message over the world's first electric telegraph. The words were, "What hath God wrought!" Thus it was found that the same mysterious and terrible power which flashes out in the midnight storm was ready to convey across continents and seas the messages of man. This use of electricity is of peculiar interest. It is the first invention which is apparently final. In the race of improvement all other inventions and instrumentalities may be superceded. But what agency for conveying intelligence can ever excel that which is instantaneous? It would seem that here, for the first time, the human mind has reached the utmost limits of its progress.

From the time of its first invention to the year 1814, scarcely any improvement had been made on the printing press. A rude machine, printing at its best scarcely 150 copies per hour, was still universally in use. Now we have machines that print 25,000 copies per hour; books and papers have greatly cheapened in consequence. Such were some of the forces at work upon society during the first half of the nineteenth century.

But while mankind had progressed in science they had remained stationary in religion; and how could it be otherwise? Invention and discovery are but the unfolding of the laws, attributes and objects of nature to man's limited understanding—the action of the divine will on the minds of men. When God revealed nature's laws, man progressed scientifically: until God revealed religious truth man groped in spiritual darkness. The intellectual light of that age only made to observing minds, their spiritual night more palpable; even as a candle shining in the night only intensifies the surrounding gloom. Many leading minds perceived somewhat, the errors of the times, and sought to bring about reform in various ways. These attempts brought forth discussion and division. The disintegration which had commenced in the days of Luther, now worked with unexampled rapidity, until the various so-called Christian sects numbered more than six hundred, each tenacious of its own ideas, and bitterly denouncing all the others.

None of these jarring sects ever had divine authority; in fact, they denied the possibility of revelation from God. Even admitting their claims, their creeds are only the crystallized ideas of the leading men of the age that gave them birth. For example, Rome depended not upon revelation, nor even upon the letter of the scriptures, but upon the tradition of the fathers. In other words, the rule of faith, in the church of Rome was the conflicting opinions of men—often ill-informed and superstitious—who lived between the great apostasy and the time of Luther.

So again, the creed of Lutherism is only the best ideas of men who lived in Central Europe three hundred and fifty years ago. In like manner, Presbyterianism is the reflex of the stern and rugged character of the Scotch in the 17th century. So also Methodism and Quakerism are the products of zealous English reformers in the 17th and 18th centuries. All of the religions that existed in America at the beginning of this century, were the outgrowth of European thought. They were systems that had been transplanted from foreign lands, by no means adapted to the progressive ideas that prevail on this continent.

Humanly speaking, it was time to establish a religion, which should harmonize with the circumstances and age in which we live. Divinely speaking, man had become so developed and disciplined that he could receive the gospel. It was the Lord's due time to again reveal His will and set up His kingdom upon the earth.

Not only was the age peculiar, but likewise the land in which this work was to be accomplished. The governments of European countries were all committed to some particular creed, some peculiar form of religious worship. But in America there was no established religion. All were free to accept or reject the truth untrammelled by the arbitrary requirements of the civil law.

The instrumentalities used for the establishment of this work were very peculiar. No hoary-headed philosopher, full of worldly wisdom; no crafty politician, zealous for a party or sect; no profound doctor of divinity, deeply versed in antiquarian lore, was appointed to do this work. No! A pure and ingenuous youth, who had spent the few years of his mortal life in the quiet and peaceful avocations of agricultural life—a youth who had not yet drunk in the poison of man's theology—such was the instrument chosen by the Almighty for the execution of His purposes.

The sublime and tragic history of Joseph Smith is too well known to need repetition here. A few leading facts will suffice. Joseph Smith was born December 23rd, 1805, at Sharon, Windsor Co., Vt. He received his first vision on the morning of a beautiful, clear day, early in the Spring of 1820. Joseph was then a little more than fourteen years of age. Three years and a half passed away, when he received his second vision. It was September 21st, 1823; he had retired to rest when the divine messenger made his appearance. During the night the angel appeared three times to Joseph, and immediately after, the dawn approached; so that their interviews must have occupied the whole of that night. Thrice had the angel descended, and thrice had he ascended, with all the circumstances of reality. There is something grand in the very simplicity of the narrative of Joseph and all the more impressive when we consider his mental and physical characteristics—a man of lofty stature and giant mind. He dwelt in the very glare and illumination of a spiritual existence, and yet was the founder, organizer and leader of a latter-day Israel. Not more real was Jacob's angel with whom he wrestled all night, than were the angels of our times to Joseph. Then he commenced a life of toil and persecution—toil in the service of his divine Master, persecution from the enemy of all good.