CHAPTER V.

THE MORMONS' MECCA.

The new Mormon temple marks the history of the Church of Jesus Christ of

Latter Day Saints from the day when Brigham Young and his few followers

first set foot in the new promised land. It is a work commenced in the

wilderness, and completed forty years afterward.

The laying of the cap-stone of the temple recorded the culmination of a

work the Mormon people have been eagerly anticipating for nearly two

generations. It recalls, too, many chapters of history abounding in

interest. It tells a tale of patience, industry, and unswerving devotion

to an object and a religious principle.

It is forty years ago since the corner-stones of this temple were laid,

and although there have been occasional lapses of time when nothing was

done, and often only a few men employed, the work has practically been

going on continuously.

Not more than a few days after the arrival of the Mormon pioneers in the

Great Salt Lake Basin, the prophet, Brigham Young, was strolling about

in the vicinity of his camping-place in company with some of the

apostles of his church. The days previous had been employed in exploring

the valley to the north and south. These explorations satisfied them

that there was no more favorable location to commence the building of a

new city in the wilderness than the one on which they had first pitched

their tents. The night when Brigham took that stroll was at the end of a

perfect day in July. Looking to the south the valley stretched away

into magnificent distances and beautiful vistas as lovely as eye ever

beheld. Over in the west was the Great Salt Lake, with its huge islands

rising from the mirrored surface of its waters, and burying their

mountainous heads in the white of the clouds and the blue of the sky. In

the east were the cold and rugged ranges of the Wasatch. To the north

were the brown hills that guarded the city in that direction. It was a

scene to inspire beautiful and poetic thoughts, and Brigham gazed about

him, apparently delighted with the sublimity of the glorious prospect.

Turning his eyes to the east he struck his cane into the earth and said,

"Here is where the temple of our God shall rise." Not a word of dissent

was heard to his proclamation. There were no suggestions that better

sites might be had. Brigham had issued his edict, and when he had spoken

it was law to his people, so solemn that all indorsed it. From that

moment the Temple Square was looked upon as sacred to the purpose to

which it had been dedicated.

Remembering with what matchless courage this great Mormon leader had

conducted his insignificant army across the desert from the Missouri

River, and through the mountain defiles into this then wilderness, it is

impossible to still the thought, "Did his imagination's eye peer through

the mist of years and see the gray and solemn pile which is now the

temple?"

But that July night when Brigham Young struck his cane on the ground was

in 1847, and nothing was done toward building the temple until six years

afterward. Still it is doubtful if the original intention had ever been

abandoned.

At first it was intended to build it of adobe, but when a mountain of

granite, fine in its quality and most beautiful in color, was found some

miles from the city, that material was substituted. On a panel just

above the second-story window of the east end of the temple is this

inscription:

HOLINESS TO THE LORD.

THE HOUSE OF THE LORD

BUILT BY

THE CHURCH OF JESUS CHRIST

OF

LATTER DAY SAINTS.

COMMENCED APRIL 6, 1853,

COMPLETED ---- ----

Below the word "completed" there is a blank line where, when the last

piece of stone has been chiseled and the frescoer has applied the last

touch of his brush, a date will be cut into the marble slab. That date

may not be inscribed for two or three years yet, for there is still very

much to do on the interior.

April 6, 1853, was a bright day in the history of Zion. Not only was the

semi-annual conference of the Mormon church in session, but the

corner-stone of the great temple was to be laid with imposing

ceremonies. The first company of Mormon pioneers to enter the Salt Lake

Valley only numbered 143, but six years afterward the city had a

population of nearly 6,000 people. It was a city, too, peculiar and

unique in its customs and the character of its residents. By that time

Utah had many large settlements, and from the most remote of these the

saints came to assemble at the center stake of Zion. They came wearing

their brightest and best garments and their happiest faces. Presumably

their souls were possessed of that sweet peace which passeth all

understanding. A grand procession was formed in honor of the ceremony

about to be celebrated.

An old program of that parade, and the exercises of the day, is yet in

existence, and it is notable that the church dignitaries were the most

conspicuous figures in the pageant. There were the presidents, apostles,

and bishops, the high priests, the counselors, the elders, and all the

lesser degrees of Mormon ecclesiastical authorities.

Flags were flying, bands were playing--there were two bands in Utah,

even then. Four corner-stones were laid, four dedicatory prayers

offered, in which the Almighty was invoked to bless the building then

begun, and four orations were delivered.

There are many conflicting stories in regard to the designer of the

temple. A man by the name of Truman C. Angell was the first architect,

and he drew the plans, but it was in the fertile genius of Brigham Young

that the ideas of form and arrangement were conceived. These he

submitted to Angell, who elaborated them. Doubtless Brigham had based

his conceptions on the descriptions he had read of Solomon's temple, but

however much of the plans he may have cribbed, to him belongs the

credit. He claimed the design of the temple, even to the smallest

detail, had been given him by a revelation from God.

Angell devoted his life to this building. After him two or three others

directed the construction, but for the past four or five years Don

Carlos Young, a son of Brigham's, has been the architect.

For many years the progress was exceedingly slow. The foundations were

sunk sixteen feet below the surface. There was a great yawning hole to

be filled with rock, every one of which had to be pulled by ox teams.

Many people remember how slowly the building rose. They say it was

several years before the walls could be seen above ground. But there was

no hurry and nothing was slighted, for the temple when completed was

intended to be as enduring as the mountains from which the stone it was

built of was quarried.

No better illustration of the infinite patience, the ceaseless industry,

and the religious zeal of the Mormon people could be given than they

have manifested in this work. It was a stupendous undertaking. They

possessed no modern mechanical appliances; everything had to be done by

the crudest methods. Considering these difficulties, and the immense

character of the work, it inspires wonder and admiration.

The temple quarries are in a mountain-walled cañon called Little

Cottonwood, twenty-two miles from the city. For many years, or until

1872, every stone had to be hauled that distance by ox teams. The wagons

were especially constructed for that purpose, and some of the stones

were so large that four or five yoke were required to pull the load. How

slow and expensive a building of this magnitude must have been, when

such methods were employed, can readily be appreciated. But in 1872 a

branch railroad was built from the Temple Square to the quarries; since

then the construction has been more rapid and less expensive.

Figures only give a suggestion of its gigantic proportions. It is only

when seen from a distance that its massiveness manifests itself. Then it

towers above the other tall buildings of the city like a mountain above

the level plain--it stands out solemn, grand, majestic, and alone. It is

99 feet wide and 200 feet long. The four corner towers are 188 feet

high; to the top of the central western tower is 204 feet. The main, or

eastern tower, is 211 feet to the top of the great granite globe, and on

that the statue of the angel Gabriel stands, the figure itself being 14

feet high. Above all these points are the supplementary spires, on which

the electric lights will be fixed. The lights on these sky-piercing

spires will be interesting, for they will be so powerful as to penetrate

the darkest corner of the valley, and will be like unto a beacon to a

watching mariner. That on the main, or eastern spire, will be placed

below the statue of the angel, and will be reflected upward, surrounding

the figure with a brilliant halo.

In the designing of the temple, no startling architectural innovations

seem to have been attempted. The exterior has a poverty of

ornamentation, yet perhaps that is the most attractive feature. But the

interior is exceedingly interesting. There are all manner of

eccentricities and queer unexpected places. In the four corner towers

are winding stone staircases reaching to the roof, each having 250

steps. These were all cut by hand at a cost of $100 apiece, and they are

anchored in walls of solid masonry. The largest room is in the top

story, and is 80 x 120 feet and 36 feet high. This is to be used as an

assembly hall, and will have a capacity to seat 1,000 people. The other

rooms are much smaller. There is the fount-room, where baptisms are

performed, for the Mormons, like the Baptists, believe in immersion.

They baptize for the remission of sins, and the living, acting as

proxies, are baptized for the dead.

As understood, if a person has some dear friend or relative who has

passed into the beyond without having had the saving rite of baptism

administered, the living can attend to that little formality so as to

insure the dead a peaceful sojourn in the agreeable climate of the

hereafter.

The uninitiated do not understand the purposes of Mormon temples. They

are not intended to be used for public worship. Services of that

character are never held in them. They are designed to be used for the

meeting of the priesthood and for the performances of ordinances and

ceremonies of marriage, baptisms, etc., and for the administering of

ecclesiastical rites--the conferring of priestly degrees.

Thousands of people have seen this great monument which has been built

by this peculiar people to their more peculiar religion, and have

described the impressions it made on them. Some, in a too-pronounced

enthusiasm, have declared it to be a wonder in architecture--a triumph

in its way--as something grand, almost marvelous in its conception. It

is not. There is little that is exceptionally remarkable about it. True,

there is much to impress one, but it is rather its bigness and general

appearance of solemnity than anything else. Then there is something in

its historical associations, the great difficulties overcome, and the

great zeal displayed in its construction that inspires admiration.

Rudyard Kipling, who once saw it, in a vein of his keenest satire

characterized it as "architecturally atrocious, ugly, villainously

discordant, contemptuously correct, altogether inartistic and

unpoetical," and other adjectives equally as forcible and

uncomplimentary. But he was probably more severe than just in his

criticism. There is nothing about it to shock the artistic eye, and

there are a few things to please.

A word about the statue that is perched on the topmost pinnacle.

Certainly that is pleasing to the artistic soul. It is the work of a

finished sculptor, who is even now not wholly unknown to fame. He is C.

E. Dallin, and was born in Salt Lake City not much over thirty years

ago. But the statue: It is not of marble, but of hammered copper,

covered with gold. To the eye it looks as if it were made entirely of

that metal. It is a very fascinating piece of work, and on its high

pedestal it glistens in the sunlight as if made of fire. One prominent

Mormon has said the statue is not intended to represent Gabriel, but the

angel Moroni proclaiming the gospel to all the world. It was the angel

Moroni, it will be remembered, who showed the golden plates to Joseph

Smith from which the Book of Mormon was written.

From Dallin's boyhood he began to display the artistic bent and

temperament of his nature. Before he ever had any instruction, he

modeled in clay with such success as to attract attention to his work.

Then he went abroad to study, and at the Paris Salon of 1888 he received

the medal of "Honorable Merit" for his "Peace Signal," that being a

full-sized figure of an Indian brave on horseback holding his lance in

such a manner as to be a signal to his fellow warriors at a distance

that all was well. He has also done other meritorious work, and is at

present engaged on a statue to be built on one of the corners of the

Temple Square in honor of Brigham Young and the Mormon pioneers.

There have been many extravagant statements made concerning the cost of

this temple. Figures have been placed as high as $6,000,000, which is

nearly double its actual cost. As it stands to-day, $3,000,000 have

probably been expended, and not more than half a million will be

required to complete it.

The laying of this cap-stone practically completes the temple. There is

not another stone to be laid, all that remains to be done being confined

to the interior, and that is mostly in a decorative way. In its

fulfillment there is great rejoicing in the hearts of the Mormon people.

It has been a work requiring the toil of years, the manifestation of

much self-denial, and the display of religious earnestness and sincerity

almost without a parallel.

Seventy years on the frontier · 第 5 / 40 章