Transferred to the Bristol Conference.--A Remarkable Woman.--My Views
of Celestial Marriage.
On Monday, October 1, 1877, I bade goodbye to Elder Joseph H.
Parry--who had succeeded Samuel Leigh as president of the Welsh
Conference--and to Walter J. Lewis, and the Saints of Cardiff, and went
to Bristol, where I was kindly received by President Daniel Jacobs. And
now comes a repetition of my experience in Wales. Day after day, with
carpet sack in hand, I walked alone; talking by the wayside, preaching
whenever opportunity presented in churches, or in the open air, and yet
we seemed to accomplish but little good.
On October 12th, in company with President Jacobs, I visited
Cheltenham. This is a beautiful city: broad, clean streets, elegant
dwellings, and beautiful grounds. We lodged with Brother James Bishop.
I became very much attached to this family. On October 17th, we walked
ten miles to Clifford Mesne, visited John Wadley, brother of William
Wadley of Pleasant Grove, Utah. In the evening we visited father and
mother Wadley, and stayed over night with them.
October 18th, we walked ten miles over a hilly, well-timbered country,
and crossed over Maiden Hill, said to be the highest mountain in
England; visited Sister Martha Burris, at Little Dean Hill. This sister
has long been a member of the Church, and keeps an open house for our
Elders, and has done so for the past 20 years, yet her husband and only
son are not in the Church.
I received letters from Howard O. Spencer and Samuel Claridge. October
27th, we visited Father Lerwell of East Down, South Molten, Devonshire.
He is an independent farmer, and has a good home. He made us welcome,
and we stayed two weeks, holding evening and Sabbath meetings in
his large kitchen. It was a good time. I wrote a letter to Thomas
Robertson, from which I copy:
I have traveled far, I have traveled wide,
From Atlantic's shore to Pacific's tide;
Yet of all I have seen, I love Utah the best,
And my Orderville home, far away in the west.
I know that in Old England there are many lovely homes,
Where wealth and pleasure linger, and sorrow seldom comes.
I see within the shady grove, the ivy-covered walls,
And graveled walks, all lined with flowers, that lead to painted halls.
The ostrich and the pea fowl are seen upon the lawn,
Displaying robes of beauty, as at Creation's dawn;
But round the park and palace are wall, and gate, and bar,
Cannon, and spear and halbert, accoutrements of war,
And when the gate swings open, I see the glistening steel
That speaks in tones of thunder, "Behold the power we wield!"
I look across the gateway, and catch a gleam of smoke
That rises from a thatched roof, beneath a tangled copse.
No voice of pleasure soundeth there--no graveled walk is seen--
No peacock strutting on the lawn as proud as Egypt's queen!
But there are rags, and naked feet, and cheeks all wan and pale!
And hacking cough, and fretful voice of over-work and pain!
O yes, it is a goodly thing to be a lordling born--
To have the serf, who tills the soil, bring in the wine and oil;
But I would rather face the blast of Nebo's snow-capped dome,
Than be a slave, and dwell within the proudest Briton's home!
On November 17th, I wrote to my daughter Lydia: "I am glad that Brother
A-- and H-- have gone back to Leeds. All who come to Orderville
hankering for 'leeks and onions, and the flesh pots of Egypt' will
assuredly be dissatisfied, and go away. It requires faith to enable a
person to overcome selfishness; and all who gather there expecting to
be made the lead horse in the team will be disappointed. And when the
disappointment comes, it will cause them to feel that the water is not
good, and they will sigh for the soft streams of Ramaliah, and prefer
to labor in the brick kilns of Pharaoh on the shores of the Silver Reef.
"There is one thing that I desire to see changed at Orderville: that is
the school system. How long shall we be penny-wise, and pound-foolish?
The best man, the wisest, the one who wields the most influence in
the community, should be placed at the head of the school department.
It wants a man of good government, a man filled with the Spirit of
God. Then will our children advance in mental culture and spiritual
development; keeping pace with the spiritual growth so nobly manifested
at Orderville.
"You are now fifteen years of age--in stature a woman. The mind ought
to develop with the body. Cultivate a taste for good reading. Write as
much as you can. Be sure never to walk out nights. Keep company with no
man who presumes to take liberties with a lady. Guard your chastity and
virtue as you would your life. Robbed of that, you are robbed indeed.
"I believe there is not a man or woman in Orderville who would, upon
reflection, do a sinful act; but all are tempted, and in a thoughtless
moment good people sometimes fall. Sin brings us under bondage. Purity
is perpetuated only by eternal vigilance. In the beautiful morning of
life guide your feet far from the paths of wantonness, and keep the
lamp of prudence burning in your heart; so shall you end your days in
peace."
On Thursday, November 22nd, we walked twelve miles to John Hatt's,
Chalcutt Hill, Wilts. The walk was made disagreeable by heavy
showers of rain, and terrific gales of wind. Sister Hatt is a tall,
healthy-looking woman, fifty-four years of age, and the mother of
fourteen living children. On November 23rd, I received from Sister M.
A. Tippitts, a view of Swanage, Isle of Purbeck. On the back of the
card I wrote the following lines, then sent it to my wife Albina:
"This beautiful isle, the isle of Purbeck,
To look on the map, is but a mere speck,
But once reach the shore, set foot on the land,
You'll find it as large as the palm of your hand.
And the surface as green--as green-sward can be,
From the crown of the hill to the shore of the sea--
While cottage and palace erected by man.
Add beauty and polish to nature's first plan.
How grand and sublime are the works of our God,
From mountain and dale, to flower and sod!
The streams of pure water, the bird in the air,
The life and the light we see everywhere!
The heart must be happy--how can it be sad?
When the beast and the bird, and all things are glad?
And I too, am happy--yet thinking of thee
I wish I could walk on the waves of the sea,
Or fly through the air with the speed of a dove,
To my home in the west, to the friends that I love.
Though our clay hills are naked, and valleys are bare,
Yet the spirit of freedom is hovering there;
While here the strong hand of oppression is seen
Clouding the glory of Nature's bright scenes--
Then blest be the day, and happy the hour
When I can return to Freedom's fair bower."
November 24th, we visited Sister Mary Hatt, who has been suffering
for twenty-seven years with rheumatism. Her hands and feet are sadly
deformed, her legs doubled up, and her arms crooked; for three years
she has been bedfast, and not able to feed herself. She is eighty-seven
years old, yet retains all the powers of her mind. She knows fifty
Latter-day Saint hymns by heart, and can repeat many chapters of the
Book of Mormon. She never murmurs, but rather is cheerful and happy,
waiting for death to set her free. We had a pleasant talk with her,
blessed her, and returned to our lodgings feeling well paid for our six
mile walk.
On Saturday, December 1, 1877, I visited the so-called White Horse
of Westbury. The picture is made by cutting away the green turf and
exposing the underlying white chalk, on the brow of a hill that can be
seen for many miles around. At a distance, the horse looks as natural
as life. After I had taken measurements, I wrote to my little son Ferra:
"The White Horse of Westbury."
I saw a horse upon the plain,
A horse of great renown;
His equal I have never seen
Walking above the ground.
Most beautiful in form and limb,
His skin of spotless snow,
I longed to be upon his back,
But could not make him go.
This horse in size is hard to beat--
From nose to tail I measure--
It is one hundred and seventy feet;
Now isn't he a treasure?
To know the height we stretched a line
From hoof to top of shoulder--
One hundred and twenty feet we find,
And he's daily growing older!
A horse so big I'm sure would make
A team for any man--
E'en Jacobs thinks he'd cut a wake
If he but owned a span.
And so would I, you bet your hat,
I'd have a jolly bust--
I'd take him down to London town
And swap him off for dust.
I'd want a penny for each hour
That he has stood alone--
I'd want a crown for every pound
Of flesh, without a bone;
Or I would sell him by his age--
(Not sell him as he runs)
For he has stood a thousand years,
Exposed to rains and suns!
He stands erect upon the hill,
As proud as proud can be,
To mark the place where Alfred wise
Gained his great victory.
For whip or spur he will not budge,
And yet he will not balk.
This is a fact, and not a fudge,
For he is made of chalk.
On Sunday, December 2nd, 1877, we held meeting in the Saints' Hall,
Bristol. President Jacobs delivered an excellent discourse on the
first principles of the Gospel. I followed, showing that Mormonism is
not a new Gospel, but is the very Gospel of Jesus Christ renewed in
its purity as taught eighteen hundred years ago, by the savior and
His apostles. The meeting was well attended, several strangers being
present.
I wrote a letter to Elder Edward M. Webb, of Orderville, from which I
make an extract.
"It may seem strange, perhaps incredible, to you, when I say that
plural marriage and the United Order were both painful to me. When I
was a child I had seen so many of the follies of men, and the breaking
up of families by the thoughtless acts of unwise persons--all of which
I attributed to the evils of a principle which is in itself, pure--that
I became embittered and cherished hatred toward that which I now admire
and love.
"So it was when President Young called upon the Saints to organize
and work together in the United Order. I saw change, waste, and
trouble ahead; and I was quite willing to see my brethren wrestle
with the problem, while I stood aloof and looked on. Nor was I wrong
in my conjectures. It was soon plain that most of us were willing to
receive the blessing, as sectarians want to receive salvation; that
is, without labor or sacrifice; but we were not willing to give up our
_selfishness_, that little "jewel," dear to us as the apple of the eye.
"But the hour came when I had to meet the issue; when President Young
asked me to lead out and set an example before the people. That night
I never closed an eye in sleep. I reflected, I prayed earnestly, and
I was convinced that the only way to win the victory was to 'give the
heart to God.' When that was done, all was peace."
Near Taunton I became acquainted with a Mr. Samuel Knight, a deacon in
the church of England. His wife, a young-looking, intelligent lady, had
led the choir and taught the parish school for twenty-seven years, and
was the mother of ten children. These good people often assisted me,
for which I was grateful. I wrote them the following letter:
"Dear friends, your kind letter came all right. We thank you for the
postage stamps--they came very opportunely, as we were out. It is
interesting to note how the way opens before us: the things we need
come from sources not looked for, and is another evidence that we are
God's servants.
"We have not suffered for anything, and how thankful I am! Several
respectable persons, besides yourselves, are inquiring after the truth.
We are sorry that you are troubled and persecuted by neighbors who
should be your friends. But to me it is another evidence of the truth
of this Gospel that we are trying to preach to you. Did not a prophet
say, 'when the wicked rule, the people mourn?' Are not the pillars of
your church oppressors? Your ministers 'preach for hire, and divine for
money,' do they not?
"As for business, what shall I say? The way the world does business is
a sin. It is a system of oppression. One builds himself up by pulling
his brother down--the big fish eat the little ones. Who does unto
others as he would have others do unto him? I know of but one way of
deliverance from these evils; that is to repent, and obey the Gospel of
Jesus Christ as restored by the Prophet Joseph Smith."
Friday, December 7th, a dark, stormy day, I walked to Dunstan Abbott,
eight miles in the rain, to visit Joseph Able and family; returned to
Candle Green and stayed over night with James Timbrell, a game keeper.
The family had no children, the house was neat and tidy, but cheerless
and cold. I wrote:
The days are short and the nights are long,
The houses are cold as a Yankee's barn--
The smoky chimneys, and open doors
Are nicely matched by damp stone floors.
Kindle the fire, but it will not blaze
Unless you open the door a ways.
Shut the door, and the crack above
Is broader than a Christian's love;
Or, if tight above, then the gap below
Is as wide as the hole where sinners go.
Turn it over, twist it around.
It is all the same, whether up or down--
A rainy, smoky, foggy England.
Saturday, December 8th, we returned to Cheltenham and remained a week,
visiting among the people. I wrote:
"Mrs. M. A. Tippetts, Dear Sister: Your kind letters and view cards
are safe in hand. I thank you for them. Yesterday we mailed a 'Voice
of Warning' to your uncle. It is as you say, a most excellent book
for circulation, and I hope in this case it will do good. We are much
pleased to see the faith you manifest in your works and words. May the
Father bless you, and make you a savior to your husband and your dear
children.
"The Latter-day Saints--and they alone, as far as I have seen--feel
today as the people of God in days of old felt, when men were blessed
with visions and visitations of angels, and often held communion with
God Himself. See the blessing on the head of Rebecca,--Gen. 24:60; also
Rachel's desires as recorded in Gen. 30; also Hannah's thanksgivings,
Samuel 1-2 chapters. These are the feelings that inspire the hearts of
the Latter-day Saints; feelings which give strength to our sisters to
share with each other the protection and affection of a worthy husband;
and which inspire our brethren to assume the responsibilities of
providing for large families, to the end that virtue may be sustained,
and every woman enjoy the blessing of motherhood, without committing
sin.
"A person must be a fool who cannot see that it requires more toil and
care to support two families than it does to support one. Hence, if
the Saints were wicked and sensual, as the world say they are, they
would seek pleasure where it could be purchased most cheaply, as men
of the world do. But the principles of the Gospel, including celestial
marriage, lead to a purity of life, that those who know not God are
strangers to.
"I hope your husband will continue to read my letters. They are poorly
written, which I cannot help; but they speak the truth. They are not
the emanations of a person paid for his labor. I am not working for
'bread and butter.' The little education I have was acquired in the
midst of severe toil--often acquired while lying on the ground by
the camp fire. Those who love the truth, however, will pass these
imperfections by, and rejoice in the testimonies of God's humble
servants; and realize that their words, like the holy scriptures, bear
the impress of the spirit of Jehovah upon them."
On Monday, December 17th, I parted with President Jacobs, walking to
Tewksbury, nine miles. Farmers were busy plowing and sowing grain; and
gardeners were transplanting as if it were spring. As I was passing
through Taunton, Mrs. Evans hailed me, asking if I was a Mormon Elder,
and invited me to dinner.
I soon learned the motive--there were five Church of England ministers
visiting with them. I consequently spent the afternoon in a lively
discussion. I was surprised at the wisdom given me, for I had the best
of the argument, and three of the ministers left, in a rage. Mrs. Evans
was pleased, and invited me to call again.
In the evening after the discussion, I walked eight miles to Pendock
Cross, and stayed all night with Thomas Newman. The family being poor,
had but one bed, so I sat up all night in a wooden-bottomed chair. Yet
I slept, and had a dream, in which I saw an old lady, then a stranger
to me, give me the gold to pay her fare to Zion.
The next day I walked fifteen miles, and found Mother Jaynes. She had
not seen an elder for nine years, and was living on the parish. Yet she
gave me her passage money; and when I came home, I brought her with me,
thus literally fulfilling the dream.
On the 18th, I walked twelve miles to John Wadley's. The roads being
very muddy, I sat down to rest a few minutes by the roadside. Putting
my hand in my overcoat pocket to get an apple, I found a pair of knit
woolen mits. I wrote:
"Accept my thanks for the cozy cuffs.
I found them one day, you see--
As I was resting, an apple to eat,
Beneath a roadside tree.
How nice they are--so soft and warm!
So clean, and tidy, and white;
Emblem I hope, of the heart that gave,
And the eyes that sparkle so bright.
I value a gift from Allie's hand,
Though a "mitten" 'tis plain to see.
I'll keep them, and wear them, but never return
A "mitten," dear friend, to thee.