At the mention of revelations Smith’s soul took a turn, like a ball on its axis; the plain speech that he had been using about business and stores and accounts changed into phraseology of a Scriptural cast, and the shrewd glance of his blue eye into a more distraught and distant look.  Heretofore, as Darling well knew, heresy had been a greater evil in his eyes than any other; but Smith had come now out of long months of prison; days and nights in which a horrible death had faced him closely had not passed over this particular soul of his dreams without moulding it.  It is noticed by all his historians that after this period he spoke little “by revelation,” in comparison with his former full habit in this respect.  At Darling’s abrupt speech he sighed heavily.  He looked, not at Darling as before, but at some vague object beyond him.

“There is one lawgiver who is able to save and to destroy,” he said wearily, and then, gathering himself up with more pompous unction, he asked of the surprised Darling, “Who art thou that judgest another?”

Darling had grown fatter since he came to Quincy; the lines of haggard care were still upon his face, but were modified by dimples of good cheer.  Much taken aback by the unexpected rebuff, he rubbed his head.

“But, Mr. Smith, if they are all going to be allowed to think whatever they like—­”

The obvious difficulty of church government under these conditions confronted the nobler impulse of humility in the visionary’s mind.  “When have I said, Brother Darling, that they all should think what they like?  But, behold, I say unto thee, it is not with the Lord to save with many or with few, but by whom he will send.”

This was a little vague as to grammar and as to sense, but Darling had not the ability to criticise.  He only perceived that to secure commendation he must be tactful in the setting forth of his act.

“It was in the case of Sister Susannah Halsey—­” he began again apologetically.

A more eager look came into Smith’s eyes; still a third phase of his character there was, the soul of his personal affections, and this began to merge now with his religious self.  “Hath she prophesied?  Hath any revelation been granted to her?”

If Darling had not understood the prophetical vein, he did understand a certain vibration in this tone.  “Ha!” thought he, “if the prophet ain’t a bit soft on her himself I’m out.”  He had lowered his eyes, and now he said evasively, “It is our sister Elvira on whom the spirit of prophecy has fallen; you will have heard how she gave praise concerning you before the Saints upon the road and was moved to dance before the Lord.”

Smith saw through the evasion, but by shrewd reading of the sanctimonious face, saw also the inward suspicion as clearly as if Darling had spoken it.  His tone and manner betrayed him no more.

“The head of our sister Elvira is not always set firmly on her shoulders,” he remarked, “but I am glad if the Lord has given her grace.”