Brother Thomas has honored his body here, and he now goes into his glory, that is, as far as he can in the spirit world. He goes where he can do more good. He has gone where he can preach to those who have lived and died on the earth without the Gospel, that they may have the privilege of receiving and obeying it, that they may be judged according to men in the flesh, and have the privilege of a glorious resurrection.

 

This is the work of the Latter-day Saints, and if we are hated for anything, it is for trying to save the people; if we are persecuted it is for trying to do good to those who are living and those who are dead. I say, then, to the Saints, pursue your course, live your religion and be ready at a moment’s warning. Brother Thomas Williams, while he sat at table eating his dinner, had not the privilege of speaking a word. A blood vessel broke, and his mouth and throat were instantly filled with blood to that degree that he could not speak a word. He tried to swallow a little salt and water, and probably he got a little down, but I doubt it very much. The blood gushed most probably from both stomach and lungs. The vessels were ripe and prepared to break, and the blood within him gushed out so copiously that he never spoke another word. How could he repent of his sins if he had not been prepared? What kind of a confession could he have made if he had wished to? None at all. He could not ask a Priest to pray for him if he had wanted to do so; no, he was prepared to go; he never spoke a word, but committed his soul to God without a moment’s warning. I try to so live that my work is always done; I have done everything that can be done up to the moment, just as he did it. I wish our business men would take pattern by him who lies before us. He was our paymaster in the Parent Branch of Z.C.M.I., and attended to this Branch of the financial business of the Institution, and there was not an order that was to be paid or filed, but what he had written a description of it and pinned it on to that order before he went to his dinner. In all his business there was not one scratch of the pen wanted to be done by other clerks, but every iota was done just as much as though he had known that he was going to breathe his last in twenty minutes.