New Witnesses for God (Volume 3 of 3)

In Short

This volume serves as a sustained, scholarly effort to validate the Book of Mormon by situating it within the broader landscape of ancient American history, Hebrew migration theories, and comparative theology. The text functions as a systematic apologia, assembling disparate threads—from pre-Columbian traditions of a "white, bearded" culture-hero to the presence of Hebrew relics in North American mounds—to argue that the book is not a modern fabrication but a genuine historical record. By addressing skeptical critiques—such as the "Spaulding theory," which posited that the book originated as a stolen secular romance—and interpreting internal consistencies as signs of divine inspiration, the author crafts a rigorous argument aimed at both the faithful and the inquisitive. Its enduring significance lies in its role as a cornerstone of formal discourse within its tradition, providing a comprehensive, if partisan, synthesis of evidence.

The Story

The narrative arc of the book is defined by a transition from the general to the specific, beginning with the wide, encompassing traditions of the Americas and narrowing down to the minute details of linguistics, archaeology, and theology. The author first explores the widespread American legends of a messianic figure—often described as a white, bearded stranger—who brought laws and religion to the inhabitants of the Western Hemisphere. These traditions are presented as echoes of an actual event, specifically the visit of the resurrected Christ, as recorded in the Book of Mormon.

From these broad myths, the investigation shifts to the more tangible, if contested, realm of material history. The text examines the persistent belief that the native populations of the Americas are descendants of the lost tribes of Israel. The author canvases the works of early Spanish missionaries and later explorers like James Adair, who documented religious rites and cultural practices among indigenous tribes that appeared startlingly similar to Hebrew customs. Throughout this search for "Hebrew relics," the author meticulously cataloging findings such as inscribed plates and parchments, treating them as potential witnesses to a forgotten past.

As the argument progresses, the focus turns to the text itself. The author acknowledges that the Book of Mormon is often dismissed by critics as an illiterate fraud. He counters this by asserting that the book’s very "clumsiness"—its complex, sometimes redundant style and its apparent lack of high literary polish—is actually evidence of its authenticity. He argues that a modern deceiver would have crafted a more seamless, rhetorically impressive fiction, whereas the record possesses the idiosyncrasies of an ancient, abridged history.

Finally, the text confronts the most aggressive external challenges. It dissects the "Spaulding theory," which sought to prove the book was a plagiarism of a secular novel, and dismisses it by pointing to the fundamental incompatibility of the two texts' styles. The climax of this intellectual journey is the author’s theological defense of the "fall of man" and the nature of opposites, using the Book of Mormon to bridge the gap between human suffering and divine purpose. The work concludes by asserting that while the physical evidence may remain fragmentary and "enigmatic," the internal coherence of the text, its spiritual "beneficent influence," and its alignment with biblical prophecy provide the final, decisive confirmation of its truth.

How It Unfolds

The traditions of the Messiah The work opens by cataloging indigenous myths from Peru to Mexico, identifying the consistent appearance of a "culture-hero" figure who taught peace and religion. These accounts are framed as historical remnants of a literal visit from the divine to the Western Hemisphere.

The search for Hebrew origins The focus shifts to the intellectual history of American antiquity, reviewing the writings of scholars who believed the native inhabitants were of Israelite descent. The author examines these historical theories to show that the Book of Mormon’s claim of a Hebrew origin was part of a larger, long-standing curiosity among early modern explorers.

The cataloging of material artifacts The narrative moves to the discovery of ancient tablets and inscriptions, such as the Kinderhook plates, which were examined by the Prophet Joseph Smith. These physical objects are offered as empirical evidence of a literate, ancient civilization in America, despite the ongoing skepticism of mainstream historians.

The analysis of literary internal consistency The argument addresses the book's language and composition, rejecting the idea that it is a modern literary construction. By examining the book’s "reformed Egyptian" roots and its handling of Old Testament prophecy, the author argues that the text exhibits the hallmarks of an authentic, layered historical abridgment.

The refutation of critical theories The latter chapters systematically dismantle various "counter-theories" regarding the book’s origin, specifically the Spaulding theory. The author contrasts the stylistic signatures of the Book of Mormon with other 19th-century writings to highlight the impossibility of a common authorship.

The theological synthesis The work concludes with a philosophical defense of the text’s teachings on the purpose of life, evil, and agency. It positions the Book of Mormon as a necessary complement to the Bible, ultimately asserting that its true power lies in its ability to reconcile the human condition with the divine plan.

The People

The central figure of the work is Joseph Smith, whom the author presents as a prophet tasked with the translation of an ancient record. Smith is portrayed not as a mere author, but as a medium for divine truth, whose encounters with artifacts—such as the Kinderhook plates—are treated with sincere, if defensive, gravity.

The author, B. H. Roberts, acts as the guiding intelligence, an apologist who brings a blend of intellectual rigor and deep-seated faith to his research. He is a mediator, acknowledging the valid questions of critics while ultimately dismissing their conclusions as "dogmatic" or "unanswerable" only if one assumes a narrow view of God’s power.

Historical figures like Lord Kingsborough and James Adair appear as witnesses for the defense. Kingsborough, an enthusiastic scholar of Mexican antiquities, is depicted as a man of "scholarly dignity" whose zeal for the Hebrew-origin theory of Native Americans aligns with the author’s own project. Adair, a long-time trader among Native Americans, provides the observational data that the author uses to link the indigenous people to their purported ancient Hebrew ancestors.

The critics of the book, such as Professor William A. Linn and Woodbridge Riley, serve as foils. They are presented as men whose skepticism is rooted in "infidelity" or an inability to look past their own materialistic worldviews. Their attempts to explain away the Book of Mormon as a result of "epilepsy and hallucination" are characterized by the author as transient, destined to be discarded just as previous, more famous theories have been. Finally, the native American chiefs who meet with Smith are depicted as figures of quiet, intuitive recognition; they are the recipients of the message, providing a poignant human connection to the ancient history the book seeks to reclaim.

In Its Own Voice

Regarding the literary structure of the Book of Mormon, the author asserts that its lack of human-made artistry is actually a sign of its divine source:

Whatever power it possesses to cheer, comfort and encourage men; whatever power to build up hope, create faith or promote charity, exists not by virtue of its human excellencies, but in spite of their absence.

In his analysis of the many "culture-hero" legends found throughout the Americas, the author observes a striking pattern:

They are all described as white, bearded men, generally clad in long robes; appearing suddenly and mysteriously upon the scene of their labors, they at once set about improving the people by instructing them in useful and ornamental arts.

Discussing the theological framework of the text, the author notes how the presence of evil is not an accident, but a necessity for human growth:

There can be no good without the antinomy of evil, so there can be no evil without its antinomy, or antithesis--good.

What It's Really About

At its core, this work is an argument for the "unity of history" and the continuity of divine revelation across different hemispheres and eras. It explores the tension between materialist, secular history and the faith-based claim that the Americas were a sacred landscape, home to ancient Israelites whose records were preserved against the ravages of time.

The underlying question is one of epistemology: how do we verify the truth of a sacred text? The author argues that reliance on purely archaeological evidence—which is often ambiguous or "enigmatic"—is insufficient. Instead, he proposes a hybrid method of verification, where textual consistency, the "beneficent influence" of the work on the believer, and the alignment of the text with biblical prophecy are all valid, empirical modes of inquiry. The book confronts the fear that the modern world has outgrown the need for "ancient" revelations, contending that the spiritual awakening of the modern age is, in fact, tethered to the emergence of this very record. It is a defense of the idea that God has not left the Western world out of the narrative of salvation.

Why Read It Today

Reading this work today offers a fascinating window into the early 20th-century intellectual environment of a specific religious community. The tone is warm and conversational, yet it maintains a meticulous, almost dogged, precision in its engagement with 19th-century scholarship. Those who are interested in the history of religious apologetics, the development of American theological thought, or the specific interpretive lenses through which the Book of Mormon has been defended will find this a vital primary source. It is an honest document; it does not shy away from the "clumsy" nature of its subject matter, but instead pivots to turn that criticism into a virtue.

However, the modern reader should be prepared for the book's period-specific perspectives. The author’s view of Native Americans, while deeply sympathetic to the narrative of their potential Hebrew lineage, is thoroughly rooted in the paternalistic attitudes of his time. Furthermore, the sheer density of the citations and the exhaustive cataloging of historical theories may feel arduous to those not accustomed to Victorian-style academic discourse. The book’s reliance on sources like H. H. Bancroft and the now-discredited Kinderhook plates demonstrates how the author interacts with the available, if limited, science of the early 1900s. Despite these challenges, there is a certain dignity in the author's pursuit. For those willing to navigate its length and the specific theological dialect of its era, the text provides a powerful sense of the conviction held by those who built their worldviews around these ancient, contested pages. It remains a testament to the effort to bridge the gap between faith and the skepticism of an increasingly modern, secular world.