Messages from the Missions

MESSAGES FROM THE MISSIONS. Elders P. S. Williams, James Maybin, and Henry E. Bowman, Jr., writing to the Era from Toluca, Mexico, July 30, say: "President H. S. Harris and family and many of the Saints assembled with us in a ward conference capacity at this place, where we had arrived on our farewell trip around the mission. As returning missionaries, we bore our parting testimonies to the truth of the cause for

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which we have labored, expressing our appreciation for the friendship and kindness received from members and acquaintances. Eight persons were added to the fold by baptism and confirmation." A social program was rendered by the Saints and elders of the Toluca conference in appreciation of the presence and labors of

their departing brethren,who say further, "We have appreciated very much the reading of the Era, and thank you greatly for your kindness in sending it."

Miss Alice Peet Bishop, writing from Marshall, Mo., July 26, says: "Please send me several copies of your 'Articles of Faith.' People are beginning to see the slanders against Utah in a new light — a true light— and the time is comingfast hurried on by the Smoot 'persecution, ' when the 'gentile' world will be more tolerant."

A. D. Blanchard, Zurich, Switzerland, writes July 19: "The Era has been a great help to me in my labors, and I hope to make even better use of the magazine in the future."

By letter from President Heber J. Grant, of the British mission, the Era is favored with the following report of that mission

Record for June, 1906. Increase over June, 1905. Tracts 381,443 148,800 Books 9,499 4,215 Conversations 20,184 5,454 Strangers' houses visited 70,247 ..26,143 Averages per elders 1,743-43-92 601-17-20

The conference of the elders at Bradford, on the 22nd, 23rd and 24th of July, was a spiritual feast. President Grant writes: "We had a glorious time, and I am utterly lacking in ability to express the gratitude which I feel, because of the great blessings we all enjoyed through our conference at Bradford. I had earnestly prayed that our meeting might be successful, and had hoped for equally as good a time as we had enjoyed at London, Rotterdam and Zurich. I felt that I would be satisfied if our meetings were not quite as good as our Rotterdam and Zurich meetings but I am pleased to say that the Lord blessed us more at Bradford than ;

at either of the other meetings. President Baliff, of the Swiss and German mission, feels that it was an incident in his life to attend this conference. I do not know that I ever felt my own insignificance, and the magnitude of the work in which I am engaged, more than I have since our conference closed. So far as my own speaking is concerned, I have no recollection of ever having felt so much of the Spirit of the Lord as I did in the few closing minutes of my talk in our last Priesthood meeting." Concerning his visit to Scandinavia, from which he re-

turned on the 20th of July, he writes that they had meetings with the elders in Copenhagen, Norrkoping, Stockholm, Christiania, Gothenburg, Aalborg, and Aarhus. He spoke to the Saints in all these places, where they held public meetings. Brothers Clawson and Andelin, and Sister Clark gave concerts in all these places, except Gothenburg. He was pleased to know that the good Saints of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark have had the chance of hearing some of our best Utah artists, and is sure that their visits to these countries will result in good.

902 IMPROVEMENT ERA.

A young missionary who requests that his name he withheld, contributes the following beautiful sketch, which contains sentiments that awaken feelings familiar to all who have been in the field: Those were happy days. We had faith in God and took no thought of the morrow. Strangers when we met, a few short months together, sharing the common privations of the mission field, made us companions in the broadest sense of that generous word. And as we walked from plantation to plantation in the old Shenandoah Valley, or followed the winding roads of Westmoreland coast, there was silently forming a bond of friendship between our hearts that was to lend ballast to our lives in later years, and bless us with an affection that sought only to serve. That was years ago, but tucked carefully away in a corner of my soul that has never grown dark or cobwebby, I carry the memory of those days ever fresh and tender, and especially the last day we spent together in that romantic old country. Roy had just been released, and was going north on his way home to visit relatives. As he was in no particular hurry, and as the cheapest mode of travel was by water, he decided to go down the James to Norfolk, and then take one of the steamers going up the bay to Washington or Baltimore. I was not entirely with-

out money, and had never been down the river, so he suggested that I accompany him that far, and come back on the train the following day. The plan was wholly agreeable to me, and accordingly tickets were purchased, and early next morning we went aboard the Pocahontas at Richmond. It was a beautiful morning, the sky was clear and bright, and the air was as fresh as a mountain breeze. We walked the decks together; explored in dark holes below, asking a question now and then from the officers in charge, and hearing an occasional "Northerners" from the passengers. Just after noon, a disagreeable wind sprang up, bringing great, black clouds, with showers in them, that swept down upon us and away again, leaving the boat like a beautiful white duck after a dive in a stream. The storm finally turned the day into a gray, drizzling afternoon. The weather, the thought of separation, and that unaccountable feeling of awe and loneliness that always comes to one board ship, made us thoughtful, and as we stopped for a few moments at Jamestown to look at the crumbled church wall and the silent old graveyard, with its dead, we both felt that we stood upon holy ground. Roy talked like Hamlet before Ophelia's grave. "Where are they all now?" he said, with a sweep of his hand toward the deserted island; "how they suffered and toiled in tears, and only a grave left! Old man, let's always be friends," It was late when we reached Old Point Comfort. The great hotel near the beach shone out in a glare of light. Down in front, a hundred husky negroes were arranging the freight for the boats which were already steaming across Hampton Road from Norfolk. Out toward the sea, a heavy fog hung down over the capes. On the left stood Fortress Monroe, sombre and silent. Just off lay two huge battleships, from which a light or two glimmered, and an occasional mournful note of a bugle came over the waters. As the Washington boat pulled alongside, I said good-bye to Roy, with a heavy heart. He went up the plank, and as the lines were being hauled in he was waving his hat and crying from the hurricane deck, "Good-bye, old man, good-bye." I stood above watching them go out into the night, and wondering who had first called the place Point Comfort. When there was but a spark of light visible through the gloom, I turned and walked up the deserted pier. The half-yearly report of the missionaries for the Swedish mission, ending June 30, 1906, published in Nortdstjarnan for August 1, shows that there are five con. ferences in that mission. There are sixty-seven missionaries in the field who had distributed 83,145 tracts, and 15,378 books, and had held 10,000 gospel conversations, 1,672 meetings, blessed nine children, and baptized thirty-seven souls. P. Mattson is the mission president, with headquarters at Stockholm.