The year 1840 found my father in this frame of mind. In the meantime he studied the New Testament scriptures, and his previous convictions were increased. But what was he to do? The Lord had ceased to speak from the heavens--had not done so since the days of the early Christians. The world said: "It was not necessary, as the Bible contained all that was needful." I will here insert a short story which will help to illustrate the point in view: John Wesley, wishing other lands to hear the message he held forth, assumed to ordain Coke and others to be bishops, to carry Methodism, and on this point he and his brother Charles became divided, after being so firmly united in the cause. This was the wedge that split them. Charles did not believe that either had the power to ordain others, and he opposed the scheme. John went ahead, assumed the authority, and laid his hands on the head of Mr. Coke and ordained him a bishop, a position Wesley himself never held. Charles grew angry at this, and remarked: "How easily are bishops made By man's or woman's whim; Wesley his hands has laid on Coke But who laid hands on him?" On Sunday afternoon in October, 1840, my parents were visited by my mother's sister's husband--Uncle John Grieve, who resided in Edinburgh. In the course of conversation he informed them that a celebrated clergyman was to preach in Edinburgh that same evening, and invited my father to accompany him to hear this man speak. He consented, and together they set out to walk from Leith to Edinburgh, a distance of two miles. They had reached a place called "Dickson's Nursery," which was about half way, when suddenly my father felt that he could not proceed any farther. Uncle John walked on a few steps, thinking my father would follow, then turned and inquired if he was not coming. Father replied, "John, I can go no farther with you to-night." Uncle John insisted upon his going, but all in vain. Father declared that he could not lift his feet-they seemed sealed to the ground, and he felt that he must go back. Just as soon as he had said "Good evening" my father's feet were loosed from the ground. He walked towards Leith until he reached the street which led to his home, called Kirkgate. Then something prompted him to take the street to the right, called Constitution. Down the street he walked until he came to an entrance leading to the "Mason's Lodge," which entrance was called a "pind." This was an arched alley-way, leading to buildings in the rear, where the Mason's hall was situated. At this "pind" stood an old, fresh-complexioned man, dressed in home-spun clothes. He bade my father "Good evening," and inquired if he was aware that the new sect called Latter-day Saints were to hold meeting in the Mason's hall that evening. Father replied that he was not, whereupon the old man invited him to attend, and led the way into the hall, where he put father into a good seat.