the depot in the city of Boston at the
time when the two Prophets were mar-
tyred. Of course we had no telegraphs
and no fast reports as we have today to
give communication over the land. Dur-
ing that period Brother Young was wait-
ing there for a train of cars to go to
Peterborough. Whilst sitting there we
were overshadowed by a cloud of dark-
ness and gloom as great as I ever wit-
nessed in my life under almost any cir-
cumstances in which we were placed.
Neither of us knew or understood the
cause until after the report of the death
of the Prophets was manifested to us.
Brother Brigham left; I remained in
Boston and next day took passage for
Fox Islands, a place I had visited some
years before, and baptized numbers of
people and organized branches upon
both those islands. My father in-law,
Ezra Carter, carried me on a wagon
from Scarborough to Portland. I there
engaged passage on board of a steamer.
I had just put my trunk on board and was
just bidding my father-in-law farewell,
when a man came out from a shop—a
shoemaker—holding a newspaper in
his hand. He said, "Father Carter,
Joseph and Hyrum Smith have been
martyred—they have been murdered in
Carthage jail!"

As soon as I looked at the paper the
Spirit said to me that it was true. I had
no time for consultation, the steamer's
bell was ringing, so I stepped on board
and took my trunk back to land. As I
drew it off, the plank was drawn in. I
told Father Carter to drive me back to
Scarborough. I there took the car for
Boston, and arrived at that place on the
Saturday night.

On my arrival there I received a letter
which had been sent from Nauvoo, giv-
ing us an account of the killing of the
Prophets. I was the only man in Bos-
ton of the quorum of the Twelve.

I had very strange feelings, as I have
no doubt all the Saints had. I attended
a meeting on the following day in Boyd-
ston's Hall, where a vast number of the
inhabitants of Boston and some three
hundred Latter day Saints had assem-
bled. Hundreds of men came to that
meeting to see what the "Mormons"
were going to do now that their Proph-
ets were dead. I felt braced up; every
nerve, bone and sinew within me seemed
as though made of steel. I did not shed
a tear. I went into that hall, though I
knew not what I was going to say to that
vast audience. I opened the Bible pro-
miscuously and opened to the words of
St. John where he saw under the altar
the souls of them that were slain for the
word of God, and heard them cry, "How
long, O Lord, holy and true, dost Thou
not judge and avenge our blood on
them that dwell on the earth?" The
Lord informed them that they must wait
a little season, until their brethren were
slain as they were. [Revelation 6:9-11] I spoke on those
words.

Next day I met Brigham Young in the
streets of Boston, he having just re-
turned, opposite into Sister Voce's house.
We reached out our hands, but neither
of us was able to speak a word. We
walked into Sister Voce's house. We
each took a seat and veiled our faces.
We were so overwhelmed with grief and
our faces were soon bathed in a flood of
tears. I felt then that I could talk, though
I could not do so before—that is, to
Brother Brigham. After we had done
weeping we began to converse together
concerning the death of the Prophets. In
the course of the conversation, he smote
his hand upon his thigh and said,
"Thank God, the keys of the Kingdom
are here." Brother Thatcher referred
to that yesterday.

All that President Young or myself, or
any member of the Quorum need have
done in the matter was to have referred
to the last instructions at the last meet-
ing we had with the Prophet Joseph be-
fore starting on our mission. I have al-
luded to that meeting many times in my
life.

The Prophet Joseph I am now satis-
fied had a thorough presentiment that
that was the last meeting we would hold
together here in the flesh. We had had
our endowments; we had had all the
blessings sealed upon our heads that
were ever given to the Apostles or
Prophets on the face of the earth. On

THE KEYS OF THE KINGDOM.

the depot in the city of Boston at the time when the two Prophets were martyred. Of course we had no telegraphs and no fast reports as we have today to give communication over the land. During that period Brother Young was waiting there for a train of cars to go to Peterborough. Whilst sitting there we were overshadowed by a cloud of darkness and gloom as great as I ever witnessed in my life under almost any circumstances in which we were placed. Neither of us knew or understood the cause until after the report of the death of the Prophets was manifested to us. Brother Brigham left; I remained in Boston and next day took passage for Fox Islands, a place I had visited some years before, and baptized numbers of people and organized branches upon both those islands. My father in-law, Ezra Carter, carried me on a wagon from Scarborough to Portland. I there engaged passage on board of a steamer. I had just put my trunk on board and was just bidding my father-in-law farewell, when a man came out from a shop -- a shoemaker -- holding a newspaper in his hand. He said, "Father Carter, Joseph and Hyrum Smith have been martyred -- they have been murdered in Carthage jail!"

As soon as I looked at the paper the Spirit said to me that it was true. I had no time for consultation, the steamer's bell was ringing, so I stepped on board and took my trunk back to land. As I drew it off, the plank was drawn in. I told Father Carter to drive me back to Scarborough. I there took the car for Boston, and arrived at that place on the Saturday night.

On my arrival there I received a letter which had been sent from Nauvoo, giving us an account of the killing of the Prophets. I was the only man in Boston of the quorum of the Twelve.

I had very strange feelings, as I have no doubt all the Saints had. I attended a meeting on the following day in Boydston's Hall, where a vast number of the inhabitants of Boston and some three hundred Latter day Saints had assembled. Hundreds of men came to that meeting to see what the "Mormons" were going to do now that their Prophets were dead. I felt braced up; every nerve, bone and sinew within me seemed as though made of steel. I did not shed a tear. I went into that hall, though I knew not what I was going to say to that vast audience. I opened the Bible promiscuously and opened to the words of St. John where he saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God,and heard them cry, "How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost Thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?" The Lord informed them that they must wait a little season, until their brethren were slain as they were. I spoke on those words.

Next day I met Brigham Young in the streets of Boston, he having just returned, opposite into Sister Voce's house. We reached out our hands, but neither of us was able to speak a word. We walked into Sister Voce's house. We each took a seat and veiled our faces. We were so overwhelmed with grief and our faces were soon bathed in a flood of tears. I felt then that I could talk, though I could not do so before -- that is, to Brother Brigham. After we had done weeping we began to converse together concerning the death of the Prophets. In the course of the conversation, he smote his hand upon his thigh and said, "Thank God, the keys of the Kingdom are here." Brother Thatcher referred to that yesterday.

All that President Young or myself, or any member of the Quorum need have done in the matter was to have referred to the last instructions at the last meeting we had with the Prophet Joseph before starting on our mission. I have alluded to that meeting many times in my life.

The Prophet Joseph I am now satisfied had a thorough presentiment that that was the last meeting we would hold together here in the flesh. We had had our endowments; we had had all the blessings sealed upon our heads that were ever given to the Apostles or Prophets on the face of the earth. On