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Young
Joseph's Call to be Prophet of the Church
The Story of the Church
by Inez Smith Davis
Chapter 49
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| Young Joseph |
Even before Joseph's death, Young Joseph [Joseph Smith III],
the eldest son of the Prophet, was well known to the Saints in
Nauvoo. When his father died he was not yet twelve, an earnest,
quiet boy, known and loved by his father's associates. Those who
worked on the temple remembered the slender, brown-eyed lad who
almost daily rode up the Temple Hill on his father's black horse
"Charley" to watch the progress on the building. He
was encouraged to come by Alpheus Cutler and Reynolds Cahoon,
the temple committee, and the workingmen stopped to explain the
progress of the building as he stood by their side and watched
them chiseling and carving the stones that were to take their
place in the great pilasters of the temple. With a boy's curiosity
he watched these great stones being drawn one by one to the top
of Temple Hill by teams of oxen and felt himself to be a part
of the great movement in which his father played so prominent
a part.
No one who lived in Nauvoo and
attended meeting in the grove failed to know Young Joseph, for
when his father was home, he always insisted upon taking the boy
with him into the preacher's stand, although Young Joseph always
preferred to sit by his mother in the congregation, as he was
privileged to do when his father was away. He loved his father,
but shrank from being elevated above his playmates. At the laying
of the cornerstone to the temple, he was seated by his father's
side on the speaker's stand. One Sunday while he sat there on
the stand in the grove beside his father, he heard himself designated
publicly as his father's successor.
Many old-time Saints remember this occasion. One of them John
H. Carter gave his testimony, under oath, in the Temple Lot Suit.
Joseph Smith came on the stand leading his son, young Joseph,
and they sat him down on a bench at the prophet's right hand,
and Joseph got up and began to preach, and talk to the people,
and the question he said was asked by somebody: "If Joseph
Smith should be killed or die, who would be his successor?"
And he turned around and said, pointing to his son: "There
is the successor," and he went on and said, "My work
is nearly done," and that is about all he said in regard
to his son. He said in answer to a question that was asked as
to who should be his successor in case he should be killed or
die, and he pointed to his son, young Joseph, who was sitting
there at his side, and said he: "There is your leader."1
Many others testified to this same event.
Young Joseph always spoke of the Nauvoo days before his father's
death as "happy days." If there were difficulties, he
did not know them. But the days of happiness passed, and the scenes
of his life hurried on to that tragedy at Carthage, which left
him standing by his father's blood-stained form, feeling the weight
of the world on his shoulders. He was only twelve and the chief
dependence of his mother in an unfriendly world.
The city his father built melted away as magically as it had
risen. He watched the people go. Many went westward, including
some of his best friends, his cousins; some to the north, some
to the south, some to the east, never again to meet as brothers.
One-time cherished friends became enemies; unity became chaos.
Emma Smith and her sons stood aloof from it all in the ruins
of a deserted city and the silence of a deserted home. Nauvoo,
once the most magnificent city in Illinois, was now a dusty village
of long rows of empty houses and unoccupied shops and stores;
the Mansion House that had once echoed with the cheerful laugh
and witty repartee of great visitors to the strange new city was
now empty save for the chance traveler or the rough riverman.
Young Joseph thought little of the tragedy that had befallen the
church, but the tragedy that had befallen him was very real. He
wanted to study, to be a great scholar, and he had no earthly
heritage except poverty and a name that his father's professed
friends had coupled with ignominy and shame. He longed to lift
up his head and walk free of this burden of disgrace as other
men did. Out of this first great mental conflict of his life came
this firm resolution: "If the father shall be judged by the
son, then with the assistance of God I will so order my life that
it shall be a living testimony, refuting the accusations against
him."
Of his religious life he writes:
We were baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter
Day Saints by Joseph Smith in 1843, confirmed by A. W. Babbitt
and another at a meeting of the church held in front of the
Temple in Nauvoo. This baptism we believe to have been valid,
and a legal act of admission to the church or body of Christ.
. . .
In Liberty Jail the promise and blessing of a life of usefulness
to the cause of truth was pronounced upon our head by lips tainted
by dungeon damps, and by the Spirit confirmed through attesting
witnesses.
This blessing has by some been called an ordination, from
the usual predilection to confound names and terms. . . .
Subsequent to our baptism in 1843, upon two occasions was
the same blessing confirmed by Joseph Smith, once in the council
room in the brick store on the banks of the Mississippi, of
which we have not a doubt there are witnesses who would confirm
the present testimony; once, in the last interview Joseph Smith
had with his family before he left Nauvoo to his death. A public
attestation of the same blessing was made from the stand in
the grove in Nauvoo.
James Whitehead, at that time one of Joseph Smith's scribes,
tells of this same event, on the witness stand in the Temple Lot
Suit:
I recollect a meeting that was held in the winter of 1843,
at Nauvoo, Illinois, prior to Joseph Smith's death, at which
the appointment was made by him, Joseph Smith, of his successor.
Joseph Smith did the talking. There were present Joseph and
Hyrum Smith, John Taylor, and some others who also spoke on
the subject; there were twenty-five, I suppose, at the meeting.
At that meeting, Joseph Smith, the present presiding officer
of the complainant church, was selected by his father as his
successor. He was ordained and appointed at that meeting. Hyrum
Smith, the patriarch, anointed him, and Joseph, his father,
blessed him and ordained him and Newell K. Whitney poured the
oil on his head, and he was set apart to he his father's successor
in office, holding all the powers that his father held. I cannot
tell all the persons that were present, there was a good many
there. John Taylor and Willard Richards, they were two of the
Twelve, Ebenezer Robinson was present and George J. Adams, Alpheus
Cutler and Reynolds Cahoon. I cannot tell them all; I was there
too.2
Whitehead told this incident many, many times; often he added
as he did in a sermon in Lamoni, Iowa, May 22, 1887, "I lift
my hands to heaven before God, and declare unto you that this
is the truth, for it is a positive fact."3 He continues the
narrative and says that Joseph then, turning to this humble secretary,
gave him a trust to keep. Of it Whitehead said many years later:
I loved that man, he was a kind benefactor, he was a father
to me. I shall never forget the kindness of that man, and I
shall never be satisfied until I go where he is again.... After
Joseph had blessed his son Joseph, he said to me: "I have
one request to make of you."
I said "Brother Joseph, what is it?"
"My request is that you stand faithfully by my son Joseph."
I said, "God being my helper, and by the assistance of
the Holy Spirit, I will stand by your son Joseph as long as
he stands faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ."4
Whitehead was true to that trust.
The autobiography of Joseph tells further some of the causes
leading to his action in rejecting other factions and accepting
the Reorganization. He says:
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| Joseph Smith III, Age 20 |
It was during this summer [1853] and fall that I had the first
serious impression concerning my connection with the work of
my father. That spring, if my memory is correct, there was a
large emigration to Utah, a part of which was camped at Keokuk,
twelve miles below Nauvoo, on the Iowa side of the Mississippi
River. A delegation of them visited Nauvoo, and with one of
them, whose name, if I learned it, I do not now remember, I
had a long conversation respecting Mormonism. I had talked with
many upon the matter, but had never taken the subject into very
earnest consideration. This person urged that I was possibly
doing a great wrong in allowing the years to pass by unimproved.
I stated to him that I was ready to do any work that might fall
to my lot or that I might be called to do. I had no fellowship
with the leadership in the Salt Lake Church and could not then
give my sanction to things there; my prejudices were against
them. In the summer and fall, several things occurred that served
to bring the question up; my sickness brought me near to death;
my coming of age and my choice of a profession were all coincident
events; and during my recovery I had opportunity for reflection,
as for weeks I could do no work. One day, after my return to
health was assured, I had lain down to rest in my room; the
window was open to the south and the fresh breeze swept in through
the trees and half-closed blinds. I had slept and woke refreshed;
my mind recurred to the question of my future life and what
its work should be. I had been and was still reading law under
the care of a lawyer named William McLennan, and it was partially
decided that I should continue that study. While weighing my
desires and capabilities for this work, the question came up,
Will I ever have anything to do with Mormonism? If so, how and
what will it be? I was impressed that there was truth in the
work my father had done. I believed the gospel so far as I comprehended
it. Was I to have no part in that work as left by him? While
engaged in this contemplation and perplexed by these recurring
questions, the room suddenly expanded and passed away. I saw
stretched out before me towns, cities, busy marts, courthouses,
courts, and assemblies of men, all busy and all marked by those
characteristics that are found in the world, where men win place
and renown. This stayed before my vision till I had noted clearly
that choice of preferment here was offered to him who would
enter in, but who did so must go into the busy whirl and be
submerged by its din, bustle, and confusion. In the subtle transition
of a dream I was gazing over, a wide expanse of country in a
prairie land; no mountains were to be seen, but far as the eye
could reach, hill and dale, hamlet and village, farm and farmhouse,
pleasant cot and homelike place, everywhere betokening thrift,
industry, and the pursuits of a happy peace were open to the
view. I remarked to him standing by me, but whose presence I
had not before noticed "This must be the country of a happy
people." To this he replied, "Which would you prefer,
life, success, and renown among the busy scenes that you first
saw, or a place among these people, without honors or renown.
Think of it well, for the choice will be offered to you sooner
or later, and you must be prepared to decide. Your decision
once made you cannot recall it, and must abide the result."
No time was given me for a reply, for as suddenly as it had
come, so suddenly was it gone, and I found myself sitting upright
on the side of the bed where I had been lying, the rays of the
declining sun shining athwart the western hills and over the
shimmering river, making the afternoon all glorious with their
splendor, shone into my room instinct with life and motion,
filling me with gladness that I should live. From that hour,
at leisure, at work or play, I kept before me what had been
presented, and was at length prepared to answer when the opportunity
for the choice should be given.5
In after years, when the church had its headquarters in Lamoni,
Iowa, Joseph Smith looked out of the windows of the editorial
rooms in the old Herald Office building, and there saw the very
prairie scene he had looked upon in this vision.
Continuing with his own statement, Joseph says:
In the fall of this year [1856] three events transpired that
had much to do with deciding my course religiously and aiding
me to answer the question, what part in my father's work, if
any, I was to take. For a number of years I had been more or
less intimate with the family of Christopher E. Yates, a friend
to the Saints, who at the time of the disturbances in Hancock
County, for his outspoken denunciation of mob violence and mob
law, had suffered the loss of a fine barn, a lot of grain, hay,
and a number of horses by fire, set by incendiaries out of revenge
as it is supposed, and who had removed with other citizens into
Nauvoo and bought property there. With one of his sons, Putnam,
circumstances had made me well acquainted. He had crossed the
plains a number of times, had been in Salt Lake City and other
parts of Utah, and in California. He and I had frequently discussed
Mormonism, that is, some parts of it, and he had persistently
insisted that I could do a great and an excellent work by going
to Utah, and, as he put it, "taking the lead away from
Brigham, breaking up that system of things out there,"
or "fall in with the style of things there, become a leader,
get rich, marry three or four wives and enjoy myself."
Though not a religious man himself, he thought it might be a
duty that I owed the people of Utah. He further thought that
from his experience in Utah, and the expressions he had heard
among the people there, I would be received with open arms and
could succeed.
To this I replied as best I could, until the question: Why
not go to Utah? There are the men who were with my father, or
a great many of them. There, a large part of the family; there,
also, seem to be the only ones making profession of belief in
Mormonism who appear to be doing anything. Does not duty demand
that I go there and clear my name and honor of the charge of
ingratitude to my father's character? Is not polygamy, against
which you object, a correct tenet? Is not your objection one
of prejudice only? These and a thousand others of similar import
were suggested, and added their weight to the difficulty of
the situation. In the height of it, the words suggested to one
who had gone before me came to me with force: "If any lack
wisdom, let him ask of God." Why not I? Was I not in a
position to need wisdom? And was I not destitute of sufficient
to enable me to properly decide? I had for three or four years
been investigating spiritual phenomena; had read some of the
productions of Andrew J. Davis; had also read a little of Doctor
Emanuel Swedenborg's philosophy; but I found no good in spiritualism;
the phenomena were physical and gross; no response from the
departed spirits of any of the family, though severely appealed
to in turn, ever came; and the manifestations, though strange
and material, were altogether inadequate for the deductions
spiritualists drew from them. I did not give credence to the
philosophy. My human intelligence was at fault, I could not
decide. I believed that he who had enabled my father to decide
which of all should receive his attention, could, if he would,
enable me to decide whether I should, or should not, have anything
to do with Momonism, and if so, what. I proceeded upon this
conclusion.
A year or two before this we had raised an excellent crop
of wheat upon a piece of land lying in the south of our meadow,
and this man Yates had assisted in doing some of the work. While
engaged in it we had some conversation about Utah. After this,
I did not see him for some months. One day, while pondering
these questions (and here, unlike some, I cannot certainly state
whether morn or even, only that the sun was shining), I suddenly
found myself sowing this piece of land to wheat. My brother
and this Mr. Yates I saw harrowing the wheat after my sowing.
In passing over the land I met Mr. Yates as he drove to and
fro, and our conversation was upon this Utah subject; and the
same arguments and statements were repeated by him. To these
I was urging again my reluctance to move, and the question was
again presented, Why not go to Utah? I paused, rested the. bag
of grain that I was carrying across my shoulder, upon my knee,
and turned to answer him. I heard a slight noise like the rush
of the breeze that arrested my speech and my attention. I turned
my gaze slightly upward and saw descending towards me a sort
of cloud, funnel shaped, with the wide part upward. It was luminous,
and of such color and brightness that it was clearly seen, though
the sun shone in its summer strength. It descended rapidly,
and settling upon and over me, enveloped me completely, so that
I stood within its radiance.
As the cloud rested upon the ground at my feet, the words,
"Because the light in which you stand is greater than theirs,"
sounded in my ears clearly and distinctly. Slowly the cloud
passed away and the vision closed. A few days after this occurred,
I met this man Putnam Yates, and had a conversation with him
in which he again urged upon me the idea of going to Utah; and
my answer was in exact accordance with what I had seen. The
other question, "Is polygamy of God?" was as distinctly
and definitely answered to me, as was the one referred to above;
and the answer was, "No," and I was directed that
I was to have nothing to do with it, but was to oppose it.6
Concerning his decision to accept the call to the Presidency,
he writes as follows:
During the year 1859 the question of my connection with my
father's work was finally determined. I became satisfied that
it was my duty. The queries heretofore referred to were one
by one being settled; until the final one, where and with whom
should my life labor lie? was the only one left. This was determined
by a similar manifestation to others that I had received to
this effect: "The Saints reorganizing at Zarahemla and
other places, is the only organized portion of the church accepted
by me. I have given them my Spirit, and will continue to do
so while they remain humble and faithful."
This was in the fall of 1859, and in the winter I resolved
to put myself in communication with the brethren of the Reorganized
Church.7
In concluding this chapter with these excerpts from the autobiography
of Young Joseph, it is perhaps well to recount a further statement
of his regarding his position as President of the church. He says:
We have always felt reluctant to speak in attestation of the
position as President of the Church, for three reasons:
1st. Every aspirant for that position since the crime that
left the church a prey to aspirants, has been loud in his own
defense, and has each, in turn, run into vice and folly, thereby
causing the cause to be evilly spoken of.
2nd. Words are but cheap, protestations are but the breath
of one's lips, and wisdom is never very open-mouthed, and the
unsupported testimony of any man must fall.
3rd. If the Lord has promised, and the work is his, the Spirit
which bore testimony to it at the beginning will continue its
ministrations.8
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