Autumn Leaves volume 4 number 1 – January 1891 [30] AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ELDER R. C. EVANS (Written expressly for Autumn Leaves by request of the Editor.) While visiting the Niagara Falls in August with Bro. R. Longhurst a doctor called on me to deliver a speech before a party of visitors. We were in the public park near the falls. The question was asked, “Is there a God.?” I took for my text the flowers at my feet, the trees at my side and the Niagara Falls before me, and felt that nature brought us up to nature’s God and gave to dark infidelity the lie. All felt well, and some who were present, I am informed, are anxious to have me go and preach where they live. Let us pray that the few words spoken there may, like the little Hebrew maid’s find a lodgement in some noble heart, as here did in the heart of the captain of the Syrian army. In September my little boy, six years old, was playing around a horse when he was kicked in the face, turning him completely over. He was thrown some feet and alighted on his forehead, the gravel taking the skin off his forehead and nose to the bone. They picked him up and carried him home. When he reached the yard gate he said, “Please sir, let me down. I’ll walk, ‘cause if my mamma sees you carrying me, all over blood, she will think I am killed.” They helped him in. I happened to be at home and met them at the door. The child was covered with blood. I undressed him, laid him on a table and washed him clean, and saw that on calk of the horse’s shoe had cut a deep gash right into the jaw. The other calk cut him near the right eye. By the time he was washed, a number were in the house, several of whom said, “Oh, do go for a doctor to sew up those wounds!” others said, “Get some plaster and bind the cuts together.” Some said one thing and some another, when little Willie opened his eyes, looked at me and said, “Papa, please do not go for a doctor, but just ‘minister to me with Jesus’ oil, and God will make me better.” The child’s faith made me strong. I told my Lizzie to get the consecrated oil, which I poured into a bowl, saturated some clothes and bound up his head; then put him to bed. We had hard work to keep him awake. About two o’clock in the morning he began to say all manner of strange things. I saw that he was in a great fever and feared it was going to his brain. I went into a dark room alone and prayed that God would bless me with the spirit of faith. I felt blessed, came out, administered to him as the law directs. He went off into a sound sleep and awoke next morning about nine o’clock, got up and dressed himself. We kept him in the house for a few days, and then we let him out to play. The wounds healed and there is no scar on his face now. In October I baptized Mrs. George Clayton in St. Thomas. For years she was troubled with fits, but since her baptism has never been troubled with them, and enjoys better health than ever before. I wish to draw this autobiography to a close, so will pass over the many other things that I have seen and heard, and will conclude by giving the reader an account of two more miracles, then give one testimony in defense of the Book of Mormon, when I close. Bro. and Sr. Robert Longhurst were the first to unite with the church in Vanessa, Norfolk county, Ontario. About one year after I had baptized them, Sr. Longhurst gave birth to a little girl. Shortly after the baby was born, Dr. Taggart, of Waterford, was called in and told Bro. Longhurst he did not think the child would live till morning. She was a weak little girl, and was born a cripple. One of her feet, the doctor said, would always be crippled, if she lived. There did not seem to be any ankle-bone – least they could feel none. When the child would stretch out, the little foot would lie up against her limb. Since writing the above I wrote the parents of the child, asking them to write the account of the baby’s foot, and I here insert the reply: “Doctor Taggart was here shortly after the baby was born and said he did not think it would live till morning; and when he examined the foot, he said: ‘The child, if she lives, will never be able to use it as it is.’ He advised us to have it operated on as soon as the child got strong enough and offered to go with us to the best physician in Toronto, at the same time telling us he would not attempt to operate [31] on it himself. He said the best physicians could never make the joint perfect, but that she would always be a cripple. “It grieved us much to think that our only girl would be a cripple for life. We had obeyed the gospel and decided to place our darling in the hands of the ‘Great Physician!’ Brn. J. H. Lake and R. C. Evans administered to her as the law directs, and each morning I would anoint the foot with the consecrated oil. We felt to have her administered to again, and Elders R. C. Evans and W. J. Smith anointed the foot with oil, Bro. Evans praying aloud. As they placed their hands upon her, after the prayer was over, Bro. Evans told us he felt the child would be healed, and it was so. The child is now alive and well; no one, not even the doctor, can tell the difference in the two feet. Dozens of people know the condition the child was in, and that it is now perfect in every joint. Some time after the administration, the doctor came, pronounced the foot and ankle perfect, and said: ‘There has been three-quarters of an inch of bone formed since birth, but I do not know by what power it is done. This much I know, the child was a cripple, now shi is healed.’” The parents of the child are still living in Vanessa, Ontario; and Doctor Taggart still resides in Waterford, same county. I wish to relate one more case of healing. Sr. George Everett of London branch, had been afflicted for five years. Some five years ago she felt a small lump in her right breast. She felt pain at times and the lump became hard, and continued to grow till it was as large as a small hen’s egg. By this time her breast had swollen to more than twice the size of the other, and many thought t was a tumor; others a cancer. Bro. Everett and others advised her to go to a celebrated doctor and have the lump cut out; but one day she was impressed to be administered to according to the law of God. She sent for me, and I administered to her, and the Spirit of the Lord fell upon us, so that all in the house were blessed. The pain ceased, the swelling subsided and she felt well again. The second morning after the administration she examined the place and could feel no lump. Some months have passed away, and she yet feels all right. This afternoon, while talking with her, she said, “Bro. Richard, you have my consent to tell to the world that I was healed by the power of God.” A short time ago Bro. Frank Falkner of this city, was taken very sick with brain fever, and other afflictions. He became delirious and it took five strong people to hold him, and in trying to get away from them he broke the bed down. The doctor gave him morphine to put him to sleep, but it took no effect. Elders Lake and Howlett administered to him and at once he was restored to his right mind. He continued to be sick, however, and while walking or talking would go into a sound sleep in a moment. Elder Howlett and I administered to him, and he felt some better. Two weeks ago he came with his mother to church, and while walking about half a mile he went to sleep on the street five times before he reached the church. We administered to him there, and he was entirely healed, and has never since had an attack. His wife, who was an educated Roman Catholic, saw the hand of God in this miracle, and has since been baptized. I baptized her last Friday night. I wish now to give the reader an account of a vision I had concerning the Book of Mormon. One Sunday night in the month of November, 1885, I was preaching on the divine authenticity of the Book of Mormon. While the first hymn was being sung the noted detective, Hodge, and his wife came in. I had never spoken to them at that time, and I think it was the first time they had ever been to the church. The meeting closed and all retired to their homes. After reaching my home, I though how thankful I would be if God would give to me a special evidence with reference to the Book of Mormon. I believed from the testimony of the Bible, American antiquities, etc, that the Book of Mormon was a revelation from God; but I longed to be able to say, by some other way, that I know it is of God. Time came to retire, and we bowed in prayer around the family altar. While in prayer I was carried to a cooper shop, where I saw a man, whom, I seemed to know was the Prophet Joseph Smith, in [32] the act of wrapping up a set of plates in some old garment. He placed them in a pile of straw, or something else, and left them there. I saw the plates – or a small part of the end of them – and felt convinced that those were the plates on which were written the word of God contained in the Book of Mormon. Judge of my joy, dear reader, when some seven months after I read the life of Joseph as written by his mother, and from that book learned that Joseph did at one time hid the plates in the loft of a cooper shop, placing them in a quantity of flax to hide them from a mob. While in the Spirit I seemed to be carried from the cooper shop to the city of London. I stopped before a large brick house opposite the court house, opened the door, went through the house and came to the stairs leadi9\ng to rooms above. I went into a room, saw a woman bowing at her bedside, and heard her praying with reference to the latter day work, and asking God to give her evidence concerning the divinity of the Book of Mormon. After listening to the prayer and noticing the room, I recognized the woman to be Detective Hodge’s wife. I turned, left the room, and found myself bowing at my bedside, where I had gone to pray with my wife. I told her all I had seen in my vision. Dear reader, I would have given al I had in the world if I had dared to go to Mrs. Hodge and tell her all and ask her if she was praying; but fearing that  might be deceived by a false spirit, I decided to let time unravel the mystery. The next night thee was a meeting at Sr. Hunt’s residence, and I attended the prayer meeting. The house was crowded, and, to my surprise and joy, in walked Mrs. Hodge. I felt the Spirit rest upon me, arose, and addressing her, I said, “Madam, I wish to relate to you a vision I had last night. You are the only person on earth who knows as to whether it is true or false. If false, I wish you to denounce it before this congregation; if true, I wish you to say so in this meeting. I then described the house, both inside and out; the winding stairs, the way up to her room, the furniture of the room, the clothing on the wall, and even the quilt on the bed. I also described her appearance as she prayed, and repeated to her parts of her prayer. To make a long story a short one, let me say that Mrs. Hodge in tears acknowledged that all I said and described was correct. I baptized her, and one week after I also baptized her husband, and soon afterward baptized his uncle, and later on, Elder Howlett baptized the detective’s sister. This, with many other evidences that I have since received, proves to me that the Book of Mormon is of divine origin, and that Joseph Smith was a chosen servant of God. Dear reader, I do not wish you to think that I have embodied an account of all the miracles I have seen; nor that I have written of all the blessings kind heaven has showered upon others in my presence; for like one of other days, I can say, “Goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life.” I have written this short sketch by request of the editor of Autumn Leaves, with a prayer that God will us it as a means to strengthen the weak, cheer the faint, convince the doubting ones, and inspire with greater zeal the soldiers of the cross, all along the line. What ever faults may be found in the composition of this, my first sketch, I trust they who criticise will deal kindly with me, remembering that the most of the learning I have has been acquired after hard day’s work. I have written concerning my own experience, not that I desire honor of me; for none know as well as I how ignorant and weak I am. I do not wish the reader to think that I desire notoriety, on as the work performed by “our Father” through me, his weak but trusting child, will bring Him praise and glory. The reader may praise or censure me, I will try and bear it, if only my testimony will cheer the pure and bring glory to God. “Praise gratifies and censure pains” me; but I value both as mere gauges of my work – indexing the amount of good I may or may not hope to effect. I wish to be popular. That is natural, and, surely, pardonable; but I desire it not as an end, but as a means to an end – usefulness to my fellow creatures. I love my race – I honor my race – I believe that human nature, supplemented by Christianity, is capable of attaining nobler [33] heights than Pagan philosophers and infidel sages ever dreamed of; and because my heart yearns toward my fellow creatures I want to clasp on hand in the warm, throbbing palm of sinful humanity, and with the other hold up the lamp of gospel light that God gave me to carry through this world, and so struggle onward and Zionward with this generation of men and women. In order to fill my mission I have left home and loved ones, and am now a wanderer and a pilgrim, preaching the gospel as I understand it; and so urgent are the calls for preaching that it is only for a few days at a time that I am with my family. I am striving to be one of the pure in heart, that by and by I may see God and dwell with the pure and the good. I have my faults, and a contemplation of them at times causes me pain; yet I try to keep my lamp trimmed so as to reflect a little light on the dark path of human experience. As a pilgrim toiling through a world of sinful temptation, and the night of time where the stars are often shrouded, I cry to those above and beyond me, “Hold higher your lights, that I may see my way;” and to those behind and below me, “Brother, sister, come on; ‘come up higher.’” Ah! These steps of human life are hard enough to climb when each shares his light! God help us to help one another! Dear reader, I have related the above as near as my memory, my diary and the testimony of those concerned have enabled me. Knowing that I must meet you a the bar of God, and meet all I have said, I bear my testimony in the name of my Master, that I have endeavored to tell the truth. May you and I so live that we may dwell with God in sinless eternity. May we be able to say: “When the last brave word is spoken, When our work on earth is done, When the glass of life is broken, And the sands have ceased to run, When our deeds have been rewarded, Both the evil and the good, May we each have left recorded, We have done the best we could.”