Mr. Gibson had doubtless delayed his entrance to make a fitting opportunity for this exhibition. He entirely ignored the presence of the Apostles, and, after the people were seated, arose and gave out the opening hymn. This act gave evidence at once that he had no proper idea of the organization and authority of the Priesthood. Seeing this, President Benson called on me to pray. Without giving any time for consultation, as soon as the second hymn was sung, Mr. Gibson arose to his feet and commenced to address the congregation, in substance, as follows: "My dear red-skinned brethren, sisters and friends. I presume you are all wondering and anxious to know why these strangers have come so suddenly among us, without giving us any notice of their coming. I will assure you of one thing, my red-skinned friends, when I find out, I will be sure to let you know, for I am your father, and will protect you in your rights. These strangers may say they are your friends; but let me remind you how, when they lived here, years ago, they lived upon your scanty substance. Did they make any such improvements as you see I have made? Did I not come here and find you without a father, poor and discouraged? Did I not gather you together here, and make all these improvements that you to-day enjoy? Now you, my red-skinned friends, must decide who your friend and father is, whether it is these strangers or I who have done so much for you." When he took his seat, President Benson requested Brother Joseph F. Smith to talk, rather intimating that it was desirable to speak on general principles, and that he need not feel bound to notice all that Mr. Gibson had said. It seemed impossible for any man to speak with greater power and demonstration of the Spirit. He referred the Saints to the labors of Brother George Q. Cannon and the first Elders who brought them the Gospel. He reminded them of facts with which the older members were well acquainted--the great disadvantage the Elders labored under, and the privations they suffered in first preaching the Gospel on the islands. How they slept in their miserable huts and lived as they lived; how they traveled on foot in storms and in bad weather, from village to village, and from house to house, exposing health and life. How they went destitute of clothing, and what they had been in the habit of considering the necessaries of life, to bring to them the blessings of the Gospel, without money and without price. He asked by what right Mr. Gibson called himself the father of the people, and the Elders who faithfully labored to establish them in the Gospel, strangers. The spirit and power that accompanied Brother Smith's remarks astonished the Saints and opened their eyes. They began to see how they had been imposed upon. Every word he spoke found a response in their hearts, as was plainly manifest by their eager looks and animated countenances.