If the unselfish work to which Niels has devoted such a large part of his life had no other beneficial effect than to sweeten the lives and render lovable the characters of those who engage therein; to develop in them genuine love for their fellows and true charity--a willingness to benefit others without hope of reward therefor--and to make them cheerful, and hopeful and buoyant when otherwise they might be despondent and gloomy, surely that work is not in vain. Indeed it would even then compare favorably with almost any other that claims the attention of mankind. If the "Mormon" theory be correct, the Gospel ordinances absolutely essential to the salvation and exaltation of mankind may be received by the living vicariously for the benefit of the dead. The dead, too, through an intelligent acceptance in the spirit world of the conditions of salvation, including the vicarious work voluntarily undertaken in their behalf on earth, may enjoy all the Gospel privileges. Assuming that this theory is correct, what more important labor could a person engage in than that performed in the Temples? Is there any work on earth more free from the taint of selfishness? Is there anything a person could engage in that savors more of true Christian charity? Is not the satisfaction experienced by such earnest, sincere, conscientious people as Niels a strong evidence of the truth and efficacy of the work? Is not the assurance that Niels and thousands of others have received through the testimony of the Spirit, as to the work being acceptable to the dead in whose behalf it is done, and agreeable to the will of the Almighty, worthy of consideration? The work done in the temple in behalf of the dead differs in this respect from other forms of charity--there is no danger of it making the one who performs it vainglorious. He is not open to the suspicion that the Pharisees of old were, in their giving of alms--a desire for applause, or "to be seen of men." Niels has not become puffed up because of what he has accomplished. He does not pose as anybody's benefactor. He assumes no heroic airs. There is no halo surrounding him such as "limners give to be the beloved disciple." He is just a modest, humble, obscure cripple, known to his neighbors, who are sufficiently acquainted with him to call him by name as Niels Larsen [2]; who is content to live and die without attaining to any distinction, who is advertised for the first time in this recital, and this without any desire or request on his part. He was the most insignificant and unpromising (not to say despised) of all his kindred, the tag end, as it were, of the aristocratic and once powerful families from which he had descended. He is the only one of a numerous kindred (so far as known) who has accepted of the Gospel. Possibly others of them, as well as the brother and sister-in-law already mentioned, have rejected the Gospel because of their shame of him.