The Work and the Glory (318 page)

“I finished two weeks ago.”

“So you’ve read the chapter on charity? It’s right close to the end.”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember how Mormon defined charity?”

“He said charity is the pure love of Christ.”

“That’s right. It means to love as Christ would love.”

“I do love Joshua!” she exploded, highly frustrated. And yet, strangely, she was pierced with a deep sense of regret, for she knew she was still filled with bitterness over it all and that it had put a barrier between her and Joshua.

Benjamin didn’t seem to hear her. “And do you know what I’ve learned as I’ve gotten a little older and wiser?” he asked.

“What?”

“Loving as Christ loves isn’t something you talk yourself into. It’s not a mental state, Caroline. It’s not a set of steps you walk through and then everything is wonderful.”

“Then how do you get it?”

“I wish I had the Book of Mormon so I could read it to you. But it says something like this. After talking about the qualities of charity, what it is like, and how important it is, it says, ‘Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with your whole heart and all the energy of your whole soul, that you may be filled with this love which
he
hath given to all those who are the true followers of Christ.’ ”

Now he turned his body so he was directly facing her. “Don’t you see? Charity isn’t a state of mind, it’s a state of heart. It’s a gift of the Spirit. It’s not just a matter of wanting it. God has to bestow that kind of love on a person.”

“So—” She stopped, her mind racing. “So you’re saying I should pray to have this kind of love for Joshua?” She had never considered such an option.

“Yes.”

“I’ve been praying that he would change his mind.”

“That’s fine. Just pray for the other too. That’s what I meant when I said that Mary Ann loved me all the more. Somehow, she has that gift. Somehow Joseph Smith has that gift. I knew that their caring was not dependent on my Church membership. And eventually that’s what brought me into the Church.”

Now it was Caroline who leaned forward, and took his hands. “Yes,” she said very slowly. “I see. I see where I have been wrong.”

“Not wrong,” he said. Then that slow smile came. “Just not as right as you could be, maybe.”

She took a deep breath, feeling a great sense of release. “And do you think Joshua might ever join the Church, Father Steed?”

Their eyes locked for several seconds; then he squeezed her hands. “There is no one else besides Mary Ann and me who knows how deeply you long for that,” he said, the pain making his voice heavy. Then he shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Perhaps not.”

She slowly let go of his hands and straightened. “I don’t know either.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Benjamin asked softly.

Caroline dropped her eyes to stare at her hands. Without looking up, she spoke in a whisper. “Tell me where that scripture is.”

“In the book of Moroni, right near the end.”

She repeated it softly. Then she looked up at him. “Thank you, Father Steed. I really needed a walk this morning.”

Chapter Notes

  Joseph Smith, Sr., died on 14 September 1840 after a long illness. The final moments with his family, including the blessings given to his children and his last three dying statements, are recorded by his wife in her history. Joseph’s final comments presented in the novel are not part of Lucy’s account. Immediately following the burial, Joseph and Hyrum again fled the city to escape the possibility of being arrested by Missourians. (See
Mack Hist.,
pp. 307–14.)

Chapter Twenty-Five

A general conference of the Church convened in Nauvoo on Saturday, October third, and continued through Monday, October fifth, 1840. Numerous items of business were proposed and approved. Two would have lasting significance for the Saints.

Joseph spoke at some length about the necessity of building a house of the Lord. When he was finished, it was unanimously approved that work commence no later than ten days from that date, and a committee was appointed. Among others, Brother Benjamin Steed was asked to serve on the building committee. It was also proposed and sustained that every able-bodied brother would give a “tithe” of his time, working one day in ten on the temple.

The second important item of business had to do with a charter for the city of Nauvoo. Joseph Smith, Robert Thompson, and John C. Bennett were sustained as the committee to draft a proposal for a charter. The conference also sustained Bennett as the delegate to Springfield who would lobby the legislature for its passage.

Joseph brought John C. Bennett over to where the Steeds were eating during the afternoon recess. In his mid-thirties, Bennett was strikingly handsome and had a smile that quickly put one at ease. He was a physician, a part-time preacher, a founder of a university in Ohio and another in Indiana. Prominent in Illinois politics, he was also a brigadier general in the dragoons of the state militia, and Governor Carlin had made him state quartermaster general, a position with considerable prestige and influence.

Earlier Bennett had written to Joseph from Springfield, volunteering to help with the settling of the Saints and also expressing an interest in becoming a Mormon. That such a man of learning and culture and political prominence should become a Latter-day Saint sent a ripple of excitement through the Mormon community. That such a handsome, suave man was still a bachelor sent tidal waves through the feminine population of Nauvoo. After some correspondence with the Prophet, in the summer of 1840 Bennett came to Nauvoo and was eventually baptized.

“Benjamin,” Joseph said, after introductions were made, “since I have asked you to help with the planning and platting of the city, I wanted Brother John here to meet you.”

“Joseph speaks most highly of you, sir,” Bennett said grandly as they shook hands.

“And of you,” Benjamin responded. “I was pleased that you were sustained to be on the committee to help us get our city charter.”

Bennett nodded in satisfaction. “Thank you. We have a preliminary outline of what we think we should ask for. Brother Joseph will be proposing that this afternoon, right?”

Joseph nodded. “Yes, in the next meeting.”

“I think the Saints will find it satisfactory,” Bennett continued. “But Joseph has so much regard for your opinion, Brother Benjamin, we thought we’d let you know what we are thinking.”

Flattered, Benjamin nodded. The rest of the family moved in a little closer, a little awed at the presence of the man and the fact that he was coming to their father and grandfather for advice.

“It is my firm belief,” Bennett began, “that if the Saints are ever to have freedom from the depredations of Missouri, we must have the protection of the law. And a well-written city charter is how to get that protection.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Lydia spoke up. Several of the others were nodding.

“If the outline we are proposing is approved,” Bennett said, “we shall ask for sweeping powers, powers that will protect us.”

“Like what?” Jessica asked.

“Our own militia. Courts with the power to issue writs of habeas corpus.”

Olivia, at nearly thirteen, and clearly dazzled by his presence, was hanging on his every word. She wrinkled her nose. “What’s that?”

Joseph laughed. “It’s a paper meaning that a person has to be taken before a judge or a court to be charged with a crime. It protects one against illegal imprisonment.”

“It’s what we tried to get over and over in Missouri but couldn’t,” Benjamin explained to his granddaughter. “That’s why Joseph and the others spent so long in jail.”

Bennett went on. “I’ve patterned it after the charters granted to Chicago and other cities in the state. We can form our own university.”

Benjamin was impressed.
Sweeping
was a good word to describe those kinds of powers. “And do you think we have a chance of getting the legislature to accept such a charter?”

“Absolutely,” Bennett said with complete confidence.

Joseph clapped Bennett on the shoulder. “And if there is a man in the state who can see to it that it gets done, that man is standing right here.”

When the train from London pulled into the station at Manchester, Matthew was the first passenger off. He spied Derek in the waiting crowd immediately and started swinging his arm. “Derek! Derek! I’m over here.”

Though it had been only three weeks since they had been together in Liverpool, they greeted each other as if it had been much longer than that. They shook hands warmly, and then Derek looked around. “What about your brethren? Didn’t they come with you?”

“Yes and no. Brother Woodruff wanted to stop in Staffordshire on the way up and revisit the branches. Heber and George A. are with him. They should be here tomorrow.”

“Well, then,” Derek said, taking him by the elbow, “we’re off. It’s not far, no more than a mile or two. You’ll be staying in our flat with me.”

“Good. How many of the others are here?”

“Brother Taylor is still on the Isle of Man. He’s having a series of debates with a local minister which are creating a lot of interest, so he felt like he couldn’t break away. Orson Pratt hasn’t yet arrived from Scotland, but he is coming. When your three from London arrive, that will be it.”

As they began to make their way through the crowded railway station, Matthew suddenly turned. “Have you gotten any letters?” he asked.

“I got one from Rebecca. One came for both of us from Mama and Papa yesterday.”

“And that’s all?” Matthew asked, disappointment pulling down the corners of his mouth.

Derek got an impish little grin. “Let’s see. There was one other one, but I couldn’t quite make out the handwriting. Looked like it might be written in Irish or some such thing.”

“Really?” Matthew crowed. “I haven’t gotten a letter since we went to London.” He grabbed Derek’s arm and pulled him into a trot. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Half an hour later, Matthew was going over Jennifer Jo’s letter for the fourth time when there was a brisk knock on the door. It pushed open even as Derek called out, “Come in.”

Brigham Young was into the room in three strides and swept Matthew up in a bear hug. “Matthew, you rascal. How are you?”

“Fine, Brother Brigham. And you?”

“Busier than a carpenter with four hammers and no hands.” He frowned. “Can you imagine that? Me, who can barely spell good enough for a man to read, and I’m in charge of things here—publishing a hymnbook, getting the Book of Mormon printed.”

“Yes, I can imagine it,” Matthew said soberly.

“I try to have Willard write most of the letters, but when I do write one now and then, you can hear groans all over the British Isles.”

Matthew laughed. Oh, it was good to see Brother Brigham again!

Brigham put his arm around his young friend. “What we need to do is open up a little carpenter and mill shop here. We could leave all this publishing and Church leadership to someone better qualified to do it.”

“I’m with you,” Matthew agreed. “It sounds great to get my hands on a good piece of wood again.”

“How are the conference plans coming?” Derek asked.

Brigham brightened immediately. For all his protestations to the contrary, he loved being in the midst of the work. “It is going to be a grand conference. Did Derek tell you, Matthew? Since July, total Church membership here has jumped another eleven hundred members. That’s an increase of almost fifty percent in just three months’ time!”

Matthew felt a surge of exultation and a burst of discouragement at the same instant. Not many of those numbers had come out of London. Since their arrival there in late August, they had had very little success. Unlike the people in the central part of England, the people in England’s capital were generally indifferent to religion or so crushed by their poverty that they had no time for spiritual matters.

Brigham saw his reaction and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Brethren,” he said soberly, “I don’t know how much longer the Lord plans for us to be here, but I think the general consensus of the Twelve is that we shall leave next spring. We shall have to intensify our efforts. There is so much to do. So much to do.”

When Mary Ann opened the door, Carl and Melissa were on the porch. None of the children were with them. Carl swept off his hat immediately. “Hello, Mother Steed.”

“Well, hello.” She was a little surprised. They lived just across the street and one house up, and usually Melissa didn’t knock. “Come in.”

As they did so, Carl looked around. “Is Father Steed at home?”

“Yes,” came the reply from the back room. “Just a moment.”

“Sit down,” Mary Ann said, giving her daughter a quizzical look. But Melissa was evidently going to let Carl take the lead on this and just shrugged.

They sat down as Benjamin came out, drying his hands. “Well, hello, you two,” he said.

“Hello, Father Steed,” Carl responded. “Sorry to come this late in the evening, but we’re wondering if we could speak with you for a few minutes.”

“Of course.” He came over and sat down beside Mary Ann.

Carl glanced at his father-in-law, then to Mary Ann, and then finally to Melissa. She nodded her encouragement. “I’d like to ask your advice on a business matter.”

Benjamin raised one hand and laughed. “You and Joshua have five times the business sense I’ve got,” he said. “How could I possibly advise you?”

“This is also a family matter, Papa.”

He looked at Melissa. “Oh, all right.”

Carl was not a man of many words, and he usually chose them carefully. It also meant he liked to skip any small talk and get right to the heart of the matter. He took a breath and plunged. “We’d like to leave the partnership with Joshua.”

That stunned them both and he hurried on. “It’s not that we are having problems. It’s not that at all. Things are going very well there. It’s just that . . .”

“Has Joshua said something?” Mary Ann asked, completely flabbergasted by this announcement.

“No, not at all.”

Melissa jumped in. “Please understand, Papa, Joshua has been wonderful to us. In fact, that’s part of the problem. Carl is worried that he might take it wrong.”