“Nothing would content them but that every end for which civil
society exists should be sacrificed to the ascendancy of a
theological system.”
—Macaulay.
Hagar continued to reside in the family of the President during the rest
of the winter, and was at a loss to account for the sudden cessation of
the Bishop’s suit, and the state of absolute tranquility in which she
found herself from the very day of her arrival under the prophet’s roof.
She thought it likely that Brigham Young had interposed in her behalf,
and felt very grateful to him for the peace she now enjoyed.
Bishop Langley kept his secret, and neither the President nor Spencer
could ascribe a cause for his breaking down as he did. It was thought by
many, that Langley’s infatuation for the girl had unsettled his reason.
Since his interview with Brigham Young he had remained almost constantly
at home in a state which cast a gloom over his household, and called
forth many characteristic comments from the neighbors. Some averred that
Sister Miles was a witch who ought to be burnt for the public safety;
others held that she must be an evil spirit whom Satan had sent to tempt
the leading lights of Zion and “bedevil their wits,” as an old crone,
who noted the change in the Bishop, put it. It was well for her that her
limited ability in music and “reading and writing” had obtained for her
a place of safety, for she would not have been free from serious danger
in a more exposed position. She worked on cheerfully and patiently,
giving good value for all she received, and longing for the time when
she might be able to return to the East. That hope, though not a strong
one, still sustained and gave her courage.
“Well, well,” said Brigham Young to Spencer a day or two after Langley’s
painful exhibition, “I have known of the finest horse in a band being
driven to death by a gad-fly; but I never expected to see one of the
most level-headed men in the church driven mad by a butterfly.”
Spencer had been called into the sanctum to take down in short-hand some
official letters the prophet wished to dictate, and merely said:
“It was very strange: I fear Bishop Langley was not well.”
“Perhaps not. Some are sick in body, some in their minds, and still
others in their souls, and it often happens that they are sick all
through: such, for instance, is the condition of the apostate. He is a
rotten carcass without any soul in him, fit only to be thrown out for
dogs to gnaw at.”
The young man felt the force of this fling keenly enough, and fully
realized that there was something back of it. For a second his face
blanched slightly and he hung his head, but almost instantly his heart
came back and he experienced a vague, undefined satisfaction in guessing
the prophet’s purpose. The passing sense of fear gave place to calm
defiance.
“The man, or woman, who will apostatize from the House of Israel is
thereby blotted out from the Book of Life, and shall exist no more
forever. The curse shall follow him all the days of his miserable
existence, and when he sinks into his grave he shall pass to everlasting
darkness and everlasting death.”
Spencer deliberately set down this soliloquy, and then rehearsed the
alphabet of Pitman’s system in sheer abstraction.
“Lay down that pencil and listen to me.” There was a tone and manner of
absolute authority about the Mormon President which had cowed and
coerced many a stronger and older man than Spencer.
“I have obeyed, sir, and am at your service.”
“That’s right. Now, Brother Charles, I’m going to give you some good
advice. You have spent the greater part of your life about this office
and I have known you from your cradle. Now, I hear, and have good reason
to believe, that you are acting strangely of late. You fancy that you’re
so smart you can just scuttle out and shift for yourself. I don’t know
what you intend, but I can tell you what you’ll do—you’ll come to grief.
Your father and mother are alarmed about you. You want an anchor; you
ought to marry and settle down—you’re earning twice as much as I was
when I married my first wife. But I expect you are touched also by the
butterfly madness; you forget that she not only walked but ran into the
spider’s parlor, and that your sighs can never penetrate the walls of
the Lion House. And yet, you might become my son-in-law,—who knows? The
devil has been paying off his debt to me in this article, and he may yet
add you, with all your cleverness, to the list. Sister Miles is not the
kind for a two-room cottage and third pick of Tithing office stores. If
you want her you’ll have to get as rich as Brother Edwin. She will never
marry anything short of a rich bishop, unless she takes it into her head
to run off with a stage-driver, and she seems too serious for that. But
I have my eye on her, and you know what that means.”
“What does it mean? That you will marry her?”
“Well, Brother Charles, how does that strike you? How would such an
event appear to eyes growing green with the venom of apostasy? Aha! you
see I’ve found you out! And now I’m going to make short work of you.”
The gong rang out shrilly and the Kanaka appeared instantly at the side
door.
“I ought to send you to a dungeon for repentance; but I’m going to deal
kindly with you. You can wait, George, and listen to all that’s said.”
Spencer sprang to his feet when the Kanaka entered, but he resumed his
chair and bent his steady gaze upon the President.
“How many other young fools, male and female, have taken like you the
path that leads straight to the devil across lots?”
“President Young,” said Spencer calmly, “I do not understand you.”
“How many others are going to the medicine man of the 19th Ward for
comfort and advice?”
“I know nothing about what others do or where they go. As for myself, I
have made no secret of my visits to Dr. Robinson. I have gone there in
broad daylight. He was my intimate friend before he left the church. We
met soon after my return last fall, and I am free to confess that, in
spite of his apostasy which I deplored and resented at the time it
occurred, I have relaxed the bitterness I felt towards him, and respect
him as an honest man. He works hard and does much good amongst the poor.
He devotes himself like a true man to his wife and pretty children, and
meddles with nobody. Therefore, I see no good reason why I, his old
friend, should either despise or ignore him.”
“Most sweet, young man! Do you not know that the Latter-Day Saint who
can so sweetly relax his bitterness towards the deadly enemies of
Israel, is only fit to be classed with them? I like your candor: Better
than anything else could, it shows me that the devil has begun to fasten
his net about you, and unless we can save you by radical measures you
are doomed to damnation. Do not ‘relax’ your candor till you have
answered briefly a few questions I shall ask you. I have noticed your
budding apathy; the bloom of which is always apostasy. So far it is not
of the vicious type. It is a restless uncertainty rather than a fixed
purpose. You are afflicted with three complaints: You are in love with
Sister Miles, that’s one; you think yourself fearfully smart, that’s
two; and you think the priesthood a parcel of old fools, that’s
three———”
“I may be eaten up with my own conceit—as to that I am, perhaps, not
able to judge; but the last malady I deny. I have never by word or act
shown the slightest disrespect for the priesthood.”
“Then the possession of Sister Miles would be a balm for all your woes?”
“I decline to answer. I have never spoken to the lady on the subject of
love. But, whatever my thoughts may be I hold them sacred to myself.”
“She cares nothing about the Church; you brought her here unconverted,
and she awaits only the opportunity to shake the dust of Zion from her
feet. Shall you follow her to hell when she departs?”
“I apprehend that her course will lie towards a very different haven.
But as to my following her:—Who can tell what he may do in the
mysterious future?”
“Have you talked on this subject with your friend the pill-maker?”
“If you mean Dr. Robinson I should like to assure you once for all, that
he is in no wise to blame for what you find objectionable in me or in my
conduct. He never sought me—I forced myself upon him. Whatever I
confided to him of my thoughts or intentions I did against his expressed
objection. His only advice to me was to be faithful to my convictions—”
“Yes, when he saw they were bearing you in his direction! Did you not
say at his door the other night, ‘The President and priesthood fatten
while the people starve’?”
“I did not.”
“Did you not say, ‘Zion and hell have become synonymous?’”
“I did not.”
“Well, then, the voice was his, and it was by such phrases that he
sought to keep you ‘true to your convictions,’ it was by these noble
sentiments that your ‘bitterness became relaxed.’”
“President Young,” said Spencer, rising and looking steadily into the
prophet’s spectacles, “you have been deceived. Whoever told you that
such words were spoken by me or in my presence, lies. As for Dr.
Robinson, I have only heard kind words from him about yourself and the
church in general. He wants to live at peace here, and seeks to avoid
those themes that create ill-feeling. If you will let me confront the
false witness who has reported these things I will make him confess his
shame.”
“Be calm, Brother Charles, your defence cannot save an apostate from
hell-fire. You’d better attend to your own case, and leave the pill-
maker to the wrath of the Lord.”
“Left to that I should have no fear about his safety. It is the spite
and malice of men who bear false-witness and strike in the dark; against
these he must be warned.”
“And you will bear the warning?”
“Perhaps———”
Spencer paused. A dreadful apprehension smote him like a sudden blow.
“Young man, you are a fool! If you do not mind, you will follow the
will-o’the-wisp into the pit of destruction. Leave idle romancing and
consider your substantial advantages; you shall have the woman and
continue in the path of promotion in the priesthood, or you shall be
cast out, and left to the buffetings of Satan. It is not my custom to
bargain with erring servants of the Lord, but you have given such good
promise in the cause of the Gospel, that I offer you these alternatives
in the hope that you will choose wisely for yourself. On the one hand
lie, prosperity, influence, and authority here, and exceeding great
glory in the world to come. On the other, is the desert of the Gentiles,
where the Lord is not known, and the vengeance that pursues the steps of
the apostate. Choose for yourself.”
“You will allow me time to consider?”
“If you need time for that, my lad, you are lost. If you are not for us,
you are against us. Answer instantly.”
“It is a bargain, you say. But you offer a condition you could not
fulfill.”
“You mean to belittle my authority? It is plain I have done too
much—that I have trusted you too far. But no matter. Your conduct now
shall be your answer; and, when next you come to me, come on your
knees!”
The Mormon President rose with dignity and passed in front of Spencer to
the outer office. The Kanaka stood still at his post, and the young man
sat for a time absorbed in thought. Presently he returned to his place
in the other office and was surprised to find a slip of paper lying on
his desk with the word ‘Vacant’ written in large letters. The deformed
man who was at the head of the office looked at him askance but said
nothing. The other clerks were extraordinarily busy and paid no
attention to his movements as he got his hat and coat and prepared to
withdraw. Their friend had suddenly become a leper whose hand they dared
not touch.
A week passed. Spencer’s father labored with him and made daily reports
to the President, but the young saint failed to appear either in the
attitude of a suppliant, or otherwise. He stayed constantly at home and
confined himself to his own room most of the time. A report became
current that he was very sick with a fever, and one morning a note came
to his mother from Dr. Robinson asking in the kindest and gentlest
manner if he might not be allowed to call and see if he could do
anything for ‘Charley,’ who had been his friend since childhood. The
good woman religiously burnt the letter, and sent a brief reply to the
effect that he had already poisoned her poor boy’s mind deeply enough,
she did not wish him to poison his body as well.
The Elders who came to reason and pray with the young man did not
realize that they had a case of typhoid, as well as the subtle symptoms
of apostasy to deal with. They told him he had a devil that was causing
all the difficulty, and that could only be cast out when he should
resume his obedience to the priesthood.
When a Mormon doctor was finally called in, the disease had fastened
itself firmly upon him. The house was unsanitary. Some of the younger
children had died of scarlet fever in the fall, and Spencer’s system was
terribly run down by the exposure and privation encountered during his
mission, so that he was a ready victim. The physician said at once that
his condition was alarming, and advised his mother to have him taken
care of day and night.
The news of Spencer’s dismissal had spread rapidly throughout Zion.
Hagar had heard of it in the Lion House. But she was much more troubled
when a report reached her that he was attacked by that dreadful malady
from which, she heard, few were ever saved there.
A sudden sense of peril seized her.
“Why,” she cried, “if he should die nobody will know me here. I shall be
lost! No—he must not die—he must not die!”
She hurried to the apartment of Sister Clara, the kind and gentle wife
of the prophet with whom she was domiciled, and asked her permission to
go to Spencer’s house to inquire about her friend. The good lady warned
her of the danger and said that she could not allow one of her daughters
to go with her.
It was not far to the Spencer’s house, and though Hagar felt some
uneasiness lest she might meet Langley on the way, she reached there in
safety and was gratefully welcomed by the elder Mrs. Spencer.
“It may be the Lord’s will to take him away rather than to let him fall
into apostasy. And, although it would break my heart to lose my poor
boy, what can I say or do in opposition to God’s wisdom? Even for myself
I would rather bury him than see him an apostate.”
Hagar was amazed at this cold relentless fanaticism, but passed it
without comment and begged to see the sick man. Mrs. Spencer, as a
matter of fact, preferred that she should not be admitted on account of
the spiritual injury she might impart, but she sought to turn her from
her purpose on the ground of the danger to herself.
“I am accustomed to nursing the sick, and have no fear for myself. Mr.
Spencer saved my life once, and I must see him. Please take me to his
room.”
Hagar knew the house from her former stay there and started up the
stairs. Mrs. Spencer’s objections were nullified by the young woman’s
ardor. There was but one short and narrow flight of steps. At the
landing Hagar was met by the second Mrs. Spencer and was presently
admitted to the sick room. The young missionary was so greatly changed
that she could scarcely recognize him. He smiled and extended his hand
and as Hagar took it she fell on her knees at the bedside, buried her
face in her hands, and sobbed as if her heart was breaking.
They were alone. The womanly instinct even of those partners in grief,
told them that here was a scene in which they could play no part.
“I dread her influence, Amanda,” said the first Mrs. Spencer, shaking
her head sadly.
“Well, to me she seems like an angel; but, if she’s a devil, why does
the Lord let her come?”
Hagar’s cry was one to heaven for the life of him she now realized for
the first time, she loved. And the answer came back with healing to her
eyes and to her heart. In a few moments she was all smiles and hope.
Spencer felt the glow of her spiritual presence which brought the place
a new and effulgent light, filled the air with sweetness and peace, and
transformed the shabby low-ceiled room into a corner of paradise. If
life itself had been the price of this hour he would have paid it.
Days and weeks flew by. Hagar watched him through the crisis and by
intelligent attention to ventilation and other sanitary requirements,
did yeoman’s service in tiding him over the crucial hour. During his
convalescence she prepared his food with her own hands, and while giving
rigid attention to her duties at the President’s spent a portion of each
day in his company.
In the knowledge of his love Hagar was brave and happy. She looked
forward to the day when they should be able to go back to the States
together and live and work for each other. That was all she asked, and
Spencer promised her that it should certainly be if she would wait
patiently awhile.
As soon as he was strong enough to get about he began looking for
employment, and, after meeting with rebuffs from some of the leading
Saints, determined to apply to the Waller Brothers, a mercantile firm
whose members had left the Church after a bitter quarrel with the
authorities over a demand for tithing. They were in need of a book-
keeper and correspondent and offered him immediate employment on a good
salary.
His real trouble now began. His poor old mother was in despair over the
prospect of his working for and with those vile apostates who were under
the ban of the priesthood. All saints were cautioned not to deal at
their store and they were regarded as a blot upon the fair face of Zion.
Now her dear boy was going to be their servant and receive his hire from
them. The ardent and successful young missionary, whose praises had been
sung from the Endowment House to the remotest “Stake” of Zion, and whose
steps were leading fairly on the road to an apostleship, had cast aside
the glory and exaltation of the priesthood to become the hireling of an
apostate. Such were the bitter reflections of the poor old mother who
loved him tenderly, but whose deepest affection was for her Church. As
he turned to go, she sat down and wept, saying:
“Ah! Charles, my poor boy, may the Lord pity you!”
“And may he bless and protect you, dear mother. I look to him as you do,
and I know he would not have me play the hypocrite.”
He had already told her that the Waller Brothers were going to pay him
twice as much as he had received from the Church and she regarded this
as another trick of Satan. But this was not all; he could no longer
lodge under the roof-tree of the saintly home. He must seek a home
elsewhere, since even a mother must not shelter her child after he
become tainted with the spirit of apostasy. After a touching scene with
the poor mother, whose fanaticism had to some degree unsettled her
reason, he went forth in search of a temporary stopping place, and began
his duties at the Waller Brothers store. His father denounced him as if
he had been an outlaw and threatened to disown him. But the young man
only bowed his head and walked away in silence.
The very next day while he was being instructed by his employer, he was
astonished to see Hagar come into the store. She glanced about
anxiously, and had a sad expression on her face. Charles excused himself
and went to her.
“Why, Hagar darling, what has happened?”
“Is my face such a tell-tale, then? I am almost ashamed to let you know
it—I have been told to leave President Young’s house.” Her lip quivered,
but she kept back her tears and resolutely maintained her composure.
“You have? By whom?” asked Spencer leading her to the inner office.
“By Sister Clara, in obedience to orders from the President. She was so
sorry about it, and cried as if she were driving out one of her own
children. She said: ‘I have no choice but implicit obedience. I
attempted to tell Brother Brigham that you were here among strangers,
far from your home, and that you would be forever grateful for the
kindness shown you. I told him that gratitude of a gentle soul is like a
benediction from heaven. But you must go. He thinks you are the cause of
Charles Spencer’s apostasy.’”
“Narrow bigot! But no matter, you can find a home at Doctor Robinson’s.”
“Yes, I thought of that. Mrs. Robinson has often told me that I would be
welcome. But they said at President Young’s that you did wrong to go to
the Doctor’s house, and that nobody who valued the good opinion of those
in authority would dare associate with the apostate. I do not ask you to
give up your religion on my account. I know that here or elsewhere you
will never dishonor me or yourself, and I am willing to live wherever
your wishes and interests direct. Do you not think it would be better if
I could get board in a Mormon family?”
“You will be more comfortable and happy with Mrs. Robinson. She has
never been a Mormon herself, and they cannot object to her giving you
shelter. Your tastes and sympathies are congenial, and, since we must
remain here for the present, I think that will be the best place for
you. In spite of personal ties and a lingering affection for the cause
in which I have labored honestly, I am resolved to quit Utah. My life
would be a sorry failure here, for I am branded now with what is
equivalent to the curse of Cain, in the eyes of all my friends.”