In this state of mind I met in the street the wife of the Baptist minister whom I have already mentioned. She greeted me affectionately and then began at once to warn me against the Latter-day Saints. I inquired what she knew of them; and she replied that personally she knew nothing, but she believed them to be servants of the Evil One, adding, “There is a strange power with them that fascinates the people and draws them into their meshes in spite of themselves. Let me entreat you not to go near them. Do not trust yourself at one of their meetings, or the delusion will take hold of you too.”

“I cannot ignore Mormonism in this way,” I said, “or pass it by with indifference; for my parents whom I tenderly love have been blinded by this delusion, and I can do no less than investigate its teachings thoroughly, and if I find it false, expose its errors, and, if possible, save my father’s family from ruin.”

She was not convinced that this was the wisest course for me to pursue, but I resolved at once to attend a meeting of the Saints and judge for myself. My brother-in-law, when he heard of my intentions, tried to dissuade me, but, finding me determined, finally offered to escort me to the meeting-place.

What I heard on this occasion made a great impression on my mind, and set me thinking as I had never thought before. On returning to my sister’s house she asked me what opinion I had now formed of the Latter-day Saints. I replied that I had not yet formed any conclusion, but that what I had heard had given me serious cause for reflection. “Oh,” she said, “you have caught the Mormon fever, I see.”

I felt a disposition to resent this implication, but I was half afraid that, after all, my sister was right. Much that I had heard could, I knew, be proved true from Scripture; and the rest seemed to me to be capable of demonstration from the same authority. I resolved, however, to fortify myself against a too easy credulity, and thought that probably if I heard more of these doctrines I might be able to discover their falsity.

On the following day, the elder who had preached at the meeting, and who, by the way, is one of the present proprietors of the Salt Lake Herald, called to see me, as he had been intimate with my parents before they left the island. I hardly knew how to be civil to him, though he had done nothing to offend me, nor had he been the cause of my parents entering the Mormon Church; but I disliked him solely on account of the stories which I had heard about the Mormons. Intending only to be kind to me, he told me that on the following day he proposed to take the steamer for Southampton, as he was going to attend a conference of the Saints in London, and that he should be pleased to show me any attentions while crossing the Channel, and would see me safe home in England. I confess I really felt insulted at a Mormon Elder offering to be my escort; and although my trunks were ready packed for my departure by the same steamer, and Mr. Dunbar knew it, I thanked him politely, but said I would not go by that boat. He tried to persuade me to change my mind, and said that I should have to wait a whole week for another vessel; and at last I frankly told him the abhorrence I felt at the things I had heard about the Mormons, and that I should be afraid to travel in the same steamer with him or any of the Mormon Elders whom I regarded as no better than so many whited sepulchres. He, however, very kindly took no offence, for he knew that I had been listening to those who disliked the Saints. I felt ashamed at having been betrayed into such unladylike rudeness, but, notwithstanding, tried to persuade myself that his civility was, after all, an insult; for I had conceived a detestation of every Mormon, on account of the deception which I felt sure had been practised upon my family.

This feeling was not lessened by the consciousness that an impression had been made upon my own mind. The more in accordance with Scripture the teaching of the Elders appeared, the more firmly I believed it must be a powerful delusion. Here, I said, Satan has indeed taken the form of an angel of light to deceive, if possible, the very elect.

Elder Dunbar, finding me unyielding, left by the next steamer, and had a pleasant passage across the Channel, and I remained on the island another week. During that interval my mind was haunted with what I had heard of this new gospel dispensation, as it was called. That angels had again descended from heaven to teach man upon earth; that a prophet had been raised up to speak again the mind of the Lord to the children of men; that the Saints were partakers of the gifts of the Spirit, as in the Early Christian Church,—all these assumed facts took the form of reality, and came back into my mind with greater force every time I strove to drive them away; just as our thoughts do when we desire to sleep, and cannot—our very efforts to dismiss them bring them back with greater force to torment us.

We had an unusually bad passage across the Channel, which annoyed me all the more when I remembered my scornful refusal to go in the same boat with Elder Dunbar.