Chapter XIII: The Author's Dream

While we were living in the town of Tunbridge, my mind became deeply impressed with the subject of religion; which, probably, was occasioned by my singular experience during my sickness at Randolph. I commenced attending Methodist meetings, and in order to oblige me, my husband accompanied me; but when this came to the ears of his oldest brother, he was so displeased, and said so much in regard to the matter, that my husband thought it best to desist. He said that he considered it hardly worth our while to attend the meetings any longer, as it would prove of but little advantage to us; besides this, it gave our friends such disagreeable feelings. I was considerably hurt by this, yet I made no reply. I retired to a grove not far distant, where I prayed to the Lord in behalf of my husband--that the true gospel might be presented to him, and that his heart might be softened so as to receive it, or, that he might become more religiously inclined. After praying some time in this manner, I returned to the house, much depressed in spirit, which state of feeling continued until I retired to my bed. I soon fell asleep, and had the following dream:--

I thought that I stood in a large and beautiful meadow, which
lay a short distance from the house in which we lived, and that
everything around me wore an aspect of peculiar pleasantness. The
first thing that attracted my special attention in this magnificent
meadow, was a very pure and clear stream of water, which ran
through the midst of it; and as I traced this stream, I discovered
two trees standing upon its margin, both of which were on the same
side of the stream. These trees were very beautiful, they were well
proportioned, and towered with majestic beauty to a great height.
Their branches, which added to their symmetry and glory, commenced
near the top, and spread themselves in luxurious grandeur around.
I gazed upon them with wonder and admiration; and after beholding
them a short time, I saw one of them was surrounded with a bright
belt, that shone like burnished gold, but far more brilliantly.
Presently, a gentle breeze passed by, and the tree encircled with
this golden zone, bent gracefully before the wind, and waved its
beautiful branches in the light air. As the wind increased, this
tree assumed the most lively and animated appearance, and seemed to
express in its motions the utmost joy and happiness. If it had been
an intelligent creature, it could not have conveyed, by the power
of language, the idea of joy and gratitude so perfectly as it did;
and even the stream that rolled beneath it, shared, apparently,
every sensation felt by the tree, for, as the branches danced over
the stream, it would swell gently, then recede again with a motion
as soft as the breathing of an infant, but as lively as the dancing
of a sunbeam. The belt also partook of the same influence, and, as
it moved in unison with the motion of the stream and of the tree,
it increased continually in refulgence and magnitude, until it
became exceedingly glorious.

I turned my eyes upon its fellow, which stood opposite; but it was
not surrounded with the belt of light as the former, and it stood
erect and fixed as a pillar of marble. No matter how strong the
wind blew over it, not a leaf was stirred, not a bough was bent;
but obstinately stiff it stood, scorning alike the zephyr's breath,
or the power of the mighty storm.

I wondered at what I saw, and said in my heart, What can be the
meaning of all this? And the interpretation given me was, that
these personated my husband and his oldest brother, Jesse Smith;
that the stubborn and unyielding tree was like Jesse; that the
other, more pliant and flexible, was like Joseph, my husband;
that the breath of heaven? which passed over them, was the pure
and undefiled gospel of the Son of God, which gospel Jesse would
always resist, but which Joseph, when he was more advanced in life,
would hear and receive with his whole heart, and rejoice therein;
and unto him would be added intelligence, happiness, glory, and
everlasting life.