Martin Harris

The Testimony of Martin Harris

BY WILLIAM H. HOMER

On my return from a mission to England in the fall of 1869, I stopped in Pennsylvania to visit with some of my relatives. Resuming my journey homeward, one of my cousins, James A. Crockett, traveled as far as Kirtland with me. We stayed there overnight, and the next morning inquired concerning the Mormon Temple at Kirtland. Our landlord informed us that Martin Harris was its custodian, and directed us to him. We went to the door of his cottage and knocked. A poorly -clad, emaciated little man, upon whom the winter of life was weighing heavily, came to the door. It was Martin Harris. In his face might be read something of the story of his life. He was a pathetic figure, and yet a figure of strength, revealing that although he had endured hardship and disappointments, he had lived richly; there was plainly the suggestion of his true character which had resulted from the great experiences which had been his.

I introduced myself modestly as a brother-in-law of Martin Harris, Jr., who had married my oldest sister, and as an Elder of the Church returning from a foreign mission. The effect of this introduction upon him was electric. The fact of relationship was overwhelmed by the fact of "Utah Mormon" identification. The old man bristled with vindictiveness, "One of those Brighamite Mormons, are you?" he snapped; then railed impatiently against Utah and the founder of the "Mormon commonwealth." In vain, I tried to turn the old man's attention to his family. He was so obsessed with his indignation that he would not pause to understand that there stood before him a man who knew his own wife and children. After sometime, however, he said, "You want to see the Temple, do you?" We answered that we would like it very much, so he went and got the key. As soon as we started to look through the Temple, he radiated with interest in it, stopping only occasionally for outbursts of his former ire. He led us through the rooms of the Temple, and explained how they were used, pointing out the place of the School of the Prophets and where the Temple curtain had hung at one time. He related numerous thrilling experiences in connection with the history of the sacred building. In the basement and elsewhere there were many signs of dilapidation. The plaster had fallen from the ceiling and the walls, the windows were broken, the woodwork was stained and marred. Again he stopped to speak against the "Utah Mormons." A great injustice had been done him; he should have been chosen President of the Church.

After the old man was somewhat exhausted, I asked, "Isn't it true that you were once very prominent in the Church? That you gave liberally of your means and were very active in performing your duties?" "Yes," he replied, "those things are very true. Then I was honored, but now that I am old and poor, it is quite different." I then asked him, "What about your testimony of the Book of Mormon? Do you still believe that the Book of Mormon is true, and that Joseph Smith was a Prophet?" As if by magic, the shabby, emaciated little old man before us was transformed into a different personality. He stood with his hand outstretched toward the sun of heaven; a divine fire glowed in his eyes. A halo seemed to encircle him, and his voice throbbed with sincerity and conviction. "Young man," he asked very impressively, "do I believe it? Do you see the sun shining? Just as surely as the sun is shining on us today, just as surely as the breath of life sustains us, so surely do I know that Joseph Smith was a true Prophet of God, and so surely do I know that the Book of Mormon was divinely translated. I saw the plates, I saw the angel, I heard the voice of God, I know the Book of Mormon is true."

It was a wonderful testimony; it was a sublime moment. We were thrilled to the very roots of our hair. It was the real Martin Harris whose testimony no power on earth could quench.

After this transpired, he was in a very much softer mood. He turned to me and asked, "Who are you?" I again told him about myself and explained our relationship. "So my son Martin married your sister?" he mused, shaking his head, "and you know my family?" "Yes," I replied, "wouldn't you like to see your family again?" "I should like to see Caroline and the children," he said thoughtfully, naming over each one, "but of course I can't do that, I am too poor." I assured him that President Young would be only too glad to furnish means for him to come to Utah. Again he seemed charged with bitterness, "Don't talk Brigham Young to me. He wouldn't do anything that was right."

I talked to him considerably about the matter, persistently urging him to send a message to President Young by me. His desire to see his family gradually overcame his other objections, so he finally decided to entrust me with a message. He told me to call on Brigham Young and tell him about our visit. "Tell him that Martin Harris is an old man, living on the charity of his relatives, and that I would like to visit Utah and my family and children. I would be glad to accept help from the Church, but no personal favors. Tell him also that if money is sent, it must be enough for the round trip as I don't want to remain in Utah."

I felt pleased at his change in attitude because I believed that President Young would approve of my plan. When I reached home in the 7th Ward, Salt Lake City, my father and I immediately went to the office of President Young about the matter. He received us very graciously, then listened attentively to my whole account of the visit with Martin Harris, asking questions now and again to make clear certain points in the story. When I had finished, he said, "I was never more gratified in my life. Send for him, yes, even if it took the last dollar I owned. Martin Harris spent his time and money freely for the Church when one dollar was worth more than a thousand are now. Send for him? Indeed I shall. It was Martin Harris who gave Joseph Smith money to help in the translation of the Book of Mormon. Martin Harris was the first scribe to assist in the translation of the Book from the original plates, as dictated by the Prophet who was led by the Holy Ghost and the Urim and Thummim; it was Martin Harris who was called by revelation to assist in the selection and ordination of the first Quorum of the Twelve Apostles of the Church."

Martin Harris had been one of the leading figures in the history of the Church. It was Martin Harris who was called to go with the Prophet to Missouri to assist in selecting a land of consecration. He aided in the selection of the first High Council of the Church and was a member of it. He sold his farm for three thousand dollars and paid for the publication of the Book of Mormon. It is no wonder that when the Church was reorganized he was greatly disappointed, but he never denied the faith and never affiliated with any other sect or denomination; but when the Church came West, Martin Harris had remained behind.

During the next summer-the year 1870-Elder Edward Stevenson was authorized to collect money by subscription to bring Martin Harris to Utah. About two hundred dollars was raised for that purpose. On August 30, 1870, Martin Harris arrived in Salt Lake City accompanied by Elder Stevenson. He visited with President Young. They were reconciled and Martin Harris was invited to speak in the Tabernacle where he bore a faithful testimony as to the truthfulness of the Gospel. He then went to Smithfield to live with his son, Martin Harris, Jr., later moving to Clarkston. He had been in Utah for five years when early in July, 1875, he was stricken by a paralysis. This was his last illness. We began to think that he was about to pass away; the last audible words he had spoken had been something about the Book of Mormon which we could not understand. On the evening of July 10, his son, Martin, Jr., and his wife, Nancy Homer Harris, had gone out to milk and do the evening chores. I and my mother, Eliza Williamson Homer, were with him. I stood by the bed, holding his hand; mother was at the foot of the bed. He asked me for a drink of. water. I raised his head with my arm, and mother put the glass to his lips. He drank freely, then looked up and recognized me. He said, "I know you, you are my friend." Then said, "Yes, I did see the Plates from which the Book of Mormon was taken. I did see the angel, I did hear the voice of God, and I know that Joseph was a Prophet of God, holding the Keys of the Holy Priesthood."

Then came the end of his life. He relaxed and gave up my hand, and laid back on the pillow, and his soul passed on just as the sun was setting behind the Clarkston mountains. When the family returned to the house, they found that their father had left them.

In his passing, Martin Harris, divinely chosen to be a witness of the work of God, had, for the last time, repeated his testimony of the divine inspiration and prophetic genius of the great Prophet, Joseph Smith.

From the "Homer Family History" by Rachael Maretta Homer Crockett

Note: I included this about Martin Harris because my Dad, Edmund Elmo Homer was so proud of the Homer connection (His grandfather's sister) to Martin Harris, Jr. Mom & Dad were called to the Cumorah Mission. They spent some time as caretakers and guides in the Martin Harris Home at Palmyra. Mom said that in his tour of the Martin Harris home, Dad never missed an opportunity to explain his family relationship to Martin Harris.