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In the days before radio, television, or even electronic amplification, it was common practice to have Bishops, Stake Presidents, and members of the First Council of the Seventy to speak to the overflow crowds in the Assembly Hall. This is one such talk.
I rejoice in the testimonies which have been borne at this Conference. My soul has been fed, and I have been strengthened, edified and built up by what I have heard. While sitting here I have been trying to recall how long a time has passed since I received a knowledge of the truth of this work. I think it is about thirteen years. When a small boy my mother frequently took me to meeting, but I did not like to go, to sit on a hard bench, and listen to preaching I did not understand, though at times I felt the influence of the Spirit of the Lord. We have been told that our minds must not be too much engrossed with the things of the world if we would understand and appreciate the things of God. This is the reason, perhaps, why I did not appreciate the Gospel till I became a young man. Perhaps I had been too fond of social pleasures, theatres, balls, amusements, etc. At all events the veil was not lifted from my mind until I had been called and had gone forth on a mission.
I well remember attending the debate between Apostle Orson Pratt and Dr. Newman, on the question: "Does the Bible Sanction Polygamy." I was then a boy of 14 or 15. I thought Dr. Newman at times was getting the best of the argument, because he was more eloquent, because he shouted louder and swung his arms more than Brother Pratt. But when alone and friendless in the missionary field, not knowing where I was next to find food and shelter, and when I had received a testimony of the truth of the Gospel, and was under the influence of the Spirit of God; I read the debate between Apostle Pratt and Dr. Newman, and was astonished at the impressions I had formed of it before. I learned then that eloquence is not argument nor noise and fury the truth and power of God.
On returning from my mission, some of my young friends predicted that I would get over my religious feelings, and be as I had been before, but I had prayed fervently to the Lord that I might never lay off the Gospel harness. It has ever since been my desire to labor for the advancement of the kingdom of God, and this I have done, though well aware of my shortcomings and imperfections.
I heard a veteran Elder once say to a youthful convert, who was brimming over with zeal and enthusiasm in the good work: "Oh, you'll get over all that. We all feel that way in the first place." I have often pondered upon those words, and when I have heard aged men, who for 30, 40, or 50 years have been engaged in preaching the Gospel, bearing testimony to its truth in burning words, I have come to the conclusion that that man was mistaken, and that there is no reason why our testimony of the truth should grow dim, or our zeal abate, if we live and labor as we should. As long as a man will live for the testimony of the Spirit, he will have it. It would be a good thing if we always had humility enough, when our spiritual strength wanes, and our minds grow dark, to confess that the fault lies with ourselves. Latter-day Saints who will lead chaste and pure, temperate, faithful lives, will never have occasion to say that the fruits of the Gospel are less sweet to them than formerly. But if we practice fraud and trickery, if we worship Mammon, if we are jealous of, and conspire against each other, if we lust after forbidden things, we are very liable to say, "I once felt full of enthusiasm and zeal, but I've got over it now." There is always a good reason why a tree fails to blossom and bear fruit. The testimony of the Gospel in the bosom of a man who lives as he should live, will grow brighter and brighter unto the perfect day.
Persecution and tribulation can be borne patiently by the faithful, and if we successfully bear the burdens placed upon us, they will make us stronger. The blasts that sweep through the branches of the forest oak, or mountain pine; the snows that descend and well nigh bury them; the cataracts that tumble upon them from the hills, only give them greater vigor and longevity. So with our souls. If trials come and are borne, they benefit us. If our pride is clipped and humbled occasionally, it does us good. God is a careful gardener. He trims our upper branches sometimes, so that we will not grow all to top, and in order that our roots may strike deeper and our characters be made stronger. There never has been, and never will be, too much trouble in this world. God knows best how much we need. There never was a man or a people chosen to do a great work in the earth, that did not have to endure hardships. Who were the ancient Romans? Outlaws, fleeing from justice. But they grew strong under hardships, fighting for their very existence, until they became men of iron, powerful enough to conquer the world. So with the stalwart Greeks, who overran luxurious and effeminate Persia. Our mission is not war, but peace. Our warfare is not against our fellowmen, but against evil principles and powers, and that warfare begins at home. We must first fight against ourselves, conquer our own lusts and passions, our own pride and self-will, and thus, as saved beings, be enabled to save others.
Never let us have it to say that we once had a testimony that "Mormonism" was true, but that we've outgrown it. We cannot outgrow "Mormonism." We may grow too small for it, and drop out of it. A fire will burn as long as it is supplied with fuel. The Holy Ghost is the fire of God kindled in our hearts. The fuel that will keep it burning is good deeds, pure thoughts, noble words, and kind and holy and benevolent desires.
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