Mermaid.
The change of steamers afforded me a new field of labor. I met a
brother of Gen. Atchison, one of the commanders of the militia
that served against the Church at Far West. He became interested
in me, and when we parted at Smithland he invited me to go home
with him and preach in his neighborhood.
My destination being Frankfort, I could not accept his
invitation. I started for Lexington, by way of Georgetown,
lecturing as I went. I finally got to the capital, put up at a
hotel, and endeavored to hire the State House to speak in, but
found it engaged.
My funds were low, and my hotel hill was four dollars per day.
After three days' trial I hired the Court House. The people said
that no Mormon had ever been able to get a hearing, though
several had attempted to do so.
When evening came I had to light up the house and ring the bell.
Elder Frost assisted me. Soon the hall was filled with juveniles,
from ten to fifteen years of age. I understood the trick. The
people supposed I would leave, but to their surprise I arose and
said I was glad to see the young ones out in such numbers; that I
knew they had good parents, or they would not be there; that if
they would take seats and be quiet we would sing them our Mormon
songs.
Elder Frost was a charming singer. We sang two or three songs.
Our juvenile hearers seemed delighted. I then knelt down and
prayed. By this time the hall was crowded with grown men, and I
begged them not to crowd out my little friends. I then spoke an
hour and a half upon the constitutional rights of American
citizens. I spoke of the character of the Southern people; how
they were noted for their generous treatment of strangers; but I
feared from the treatment I had received, I had missed my way in
Kentucky. My sires were of Southern birth; my father was a
relative of the Revolutionary Lee, of Virginia; my uncle was from
Lexington, Kentucky, I had come a stranger into their midst, but
I felt confident the right of speech would be extended to us, who
were ministers of the gospel, dependent upon the generosity of
the people for food and raiment. Nor did we preach for hire. If
they wished, we would remain there and lecture, and if it met the
approbation of the people they could have the gospel preached to
them without money and without price.
The first man that spoke up was a saddler. He said he was a poor
man, but we were welcome to his house, giving the street and
number. About twenty
|