There are about 1,100 different religious creeds in the world, and
amongst them all there is not one more energetic, more mysterious,
or more wit-shaken than Mormonism. It is a mass of earnest "abysmal
nonsense," an olla-podrida of theological whimsicalities, a saintly
jumble of pious staff made up--if we may borrow an idea--of
Hebraism, Persian Dualism, Brahminism, Buddhistic apotheosis,
heterodox and orthodox Christianity, Mohammedanism, Drusism,
Freemasonry, Methodism, Swedenborgianism, Mesmerism, and Spirit-
rapping. We might go on in our elucidation; but what we have said
will probably be sufficient for present purposes. There are some
deep-swimming fish in the "waters of Mormon;" but the piscatorial
shoal is sincere enough, though mortally odd-brained and dreamy. On
the 22nd of September, 1827, a rough-spun American, named Joseph
Smith, belonging to a family reputed to be fond of laziness, drink,
and untruthfulness, and suspected of being somewhat disposed to
sheep-stealing, had a visit from "the angel of the Lord." He had
previously been told that his sins were forgiven; that he was a
"chosen instrument," &c., and on the day named Joseph found,
somewhere in Ontario, a number of gold plates, eight inches long and
seven wide, nearly as thick as tin, fastened together by three
rings, and bearing inscriptions, in "Reformed Egyptian," relative to
the history of America "from its first settlement by a colony that
came from the Tower of Babel at the confusion of tongues, to the
beginning of the 5th century of the Christian era." These
inscriptions were originally got up by a prophet named Mormon were,
as before stated, found by Joseph Smith, were read off by him to a
man rejoicing in the name of Oliver Cowdery, and they constitute the
contents of what is now known as the Book of Mormon. Smith did not
translate the "Reformed Egyptian" openly--if he had been asked to do
so, he would have said, "not for Joe;" he got behind a blanket in
order to do the job, considering that the plates would be defiled if
seen by profane eyes; and deciphered them by two odd lapidistic
transparencies, called "Urim and Thummin," which he found at the
same time as he met with the records. Report hath it that Joe's
"translation" of the sacred plates is substantially a paraphrase of
a romance written by one Solomon Spalding; but the Mormons, or
rather the members of "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day
Saints," deny this, and say that at least eleven persons saw the
original plates after transcription. They may have seen them; but
nobody else has, and Heaven only knows where they are now.
Did you ever, gentle reader, see the "Book of Mormon?" We have one
before us, purchased from a real live Salt Lake missionary; but it
is so dreadfully dry and intricate, and seems to be such a dodged-up
paraphrase of our own Scriptures, that we are afraid it will never
do us any good. It professes to be a "record of the people of Nephi,
and also of the Lumanites their brethren, and also of the people of
Jared, who came from the tower." The Mormons think it equal in
divine authority to, and a positive corollary of, the Old and New
Testaments. It consists of several books, and many chapters; the
books being those of Nephi, Jacob, Enos, Jarom, Mosiah, Alma,
Helaman, Nephi, Mormon, Ether, and Moroni. The language is quaint
and simple in syllabic construction; but the book altogether is a
mass of dreamy, puzzling history--is either a sacred fiction
plagiarised, or a useless and senile jumble of Christian and Red
Indian tradition. Smith, the founder of Mormonism, had only a rough
time of it. His Church was first organised in 1830, in the State of
New York. Afterwards the Mormons went into Ohio, then established
themselves in Missouri, were next driven into Clay County,
subsequently look refuge in Illinois, and finally planted themselves
in the valley of the great Salt Lake, where they may now be found.
Smith came to grief in 1844, by a pistol shot, administered to him
in Illinois by a number of roughs; and Brigham Young, a man said to
be "very much married," and who will now be the father of perhaps
150 children, was appointed his successor. Mormonism is disliked by
the bulk of people mainly on account of its fondness for wives. The
generality of civilised folk think that one fairly matured creature,
with a ring on one of her left-hand fingers, is sufficient for a
single household--quite sufficient for all the fair purposes of
existence, "lecturing" included; but the Latter-day Saints, who were
originally monogamists, and whose "Book of Mormon" condemns
polygamy, believe in a plurality of housekeepers. They contend that
since the finding of the sacred record by Smith there has been a
"divine" revelation on the subject, and that their dignity in heaven
will be "in proportion to the number of their wives and children" in
this.
Leaving the polygamic part of the business, we may observe that the
Mormons believe that God was once a man, but is now perfect; that
any man may rise into a species of deity if he is good enough; that
mortals will not be punished for what Adam did, but for what they
have done themselves; that there can be no salvation without
repentance, faith, and baptism; that the sacrament--bread and water-
-must be taken every week; that ministerial action must be preceded
by inspiration; that Miraculous gifts have not ceased; that the soul
of man "co-existed equal with God;" that the word of God is recorded
in all good books; that there will be an actual gathering of Israel,
including the Red Indians, whom they regard with much interest as
being the descendants of an ancient tribe whose skins were coloured
on account of disobedience in some part of America about 2,400 years
ago; that the "New Zion" will be established in America; and that
there will be a final resurrection of the flesh and bones--without
the blood--of men. Some of their moral articles of belief are good,
and if carried out, ought to make the Salt Lake Valley a decent,
peaceable place, notwithstanding all the wives therein. In one of
the said articles they express their belief in being "honest, true,
chaste, temperate, benevolent, virtuous, and upright," and further
on they come down with a crash upon idle and lazy persons, by saying
that they can be neither Christians nor enjoy salvation.
In 1837, certain elders of the Mormon church, including Orson Hyde
and Heber C. Kimball, were sent over to England as missionaries; the
first town they commenced operations in, after their arrival, was--
PRESTON; and the first shot they fired in Preston was from the
pulpit of a building in Vauxhall-road, now occupied by the
Particular Baptists. Things got hot in a few minutes here; it became
speedily known that Hyde, Kimball, and Co. were of a sect fond of a
multiplicity of wives; and the "missionaries" had to forthwith look
out for fresh quarters. They secured the old Cock Pit, drove a great
business in it, and at length actually got about 500 "members."
Whilst this movement was going on in the town, the missionaries were
pushing Mormonism in some of the surrounding country places. At
Longton, nearly everybody went into raptures over the "new
doctrine;" Mormonism fairly took the place by storm; it caught up
and entranced old and young, married and single, pious and godless;
it even spread like a sacred rinderpest amongst the Wesleyans, who
at that time were very strong in Longton--captivating leaders,
members, and some of the scholars in fine style; and the chapel of
this body was so emptied by the Mormon crusade, that it was found
expedient to reduce it internally and set apart some of it for
school purposes. To this day the village has not entirely recovered
the shock which Mormonism gave it 30 years ago. During the heat of
the conflict many Longtonians went to the region of Mormondom in
America, and several of them soon wished they were back again. In
Preston, too, whilst the Cock Pit fever was raging numbers "went
out." After the work of "conversion," &c., had been carried on for a
period in the sacred Pit mentioned, the Mormons migrated to a
building, which had been used as a joiners shop, in Park-road;
subsequently they took for their tabernacle an old sizing house in
Friargate; then they went to a building in Lawson-street now used as
the Weavers' Institute, and originally occupied by the Ranters; and
at a later date they made another move--transferred themselves to a
room in the Temperance Hotel, Lime-street, which they continue to
occupy, and in which, every Sunday morning and evening, they ideally
drink of Mormondom's salt-water, and clap their hands gleefully over
Joe Smith's impending millenium.
There are only about 70 members of the Mormon Church in Preston and
the immediate neighbourhood at present; but they are all hopeful,
and fancy that beatification is in store for them. We had recently a
half-solemn, half-comic desire to see the very latest development of
Preston Mormonism in its Lune-street home; but having an idea that
strangers might be objected to whilst the "holding forth" was going
on, that, in fact, the members had resolved themselves, through
diminished numbers, into a species of secret conclave, we were
rather puzzled to know how the business of seeing and hearing could
be accomplished. Nevertheless we went to the Temperance Hotel, and
after some conversation with a person there--not a Mormon--we
decided to go right into the meeting-room, the idea being that,
under any circumstances, we could only be pitched into, and then
pitched out. And with this notion we entered the place, put our hat
upon a table deliberately, took a seat upon a form quietly, and then
looked round coolly in anticipation of a round of sauce or a trifle
of fighting. But peace was preserved. There were just six living
beings in the room--three well-dressed moustached young men, a
thinly-fierce-looking woman, a very red-headed youth, and a quiet
little girl. For about 30 seconds absolute silence prevailed. The
thin woman then looked forward at the red-haired youth and in a
clear voice said "Bin round there yet--eh?" which elicited the
answer "Yea, and comed whoam." "Things are flat there as well as
here aren't they--eh?" And the red-haired youth said "Yea."
"Factories arn't doing much now, are they?" said she next, and the
rejoinder was "They arn't; bin round by Bowton, and its aw alike."
This slightly refreshing prelude was supplemented by sapient remarks
as to the weather &c.; and we were beginning to wonder whether the
general service was simply going to amount to this kind of
conversation or be pushed on "properly" when in stepped a strong-
built dark-complexioned man, who marched forward with the dignity of
an elder, until he got to a small table surmounted by a desk, whence
he drew a brown paper parcel, which he handed to one of the
moustached young men, who undid it cautiously and carefully, "What
is it going to be?" said we, mentally; when, lo! there appeared a
white table cloth, which was duly spread. The strong built man then
dived deeply into one of his coat pockets, and fetched out of it a
small paper parcel, flung it upon a form close by, seized a soup
plate into which he crumbled a slice of bread, then got a double-
handled pewter pot, into which he poured some water, and afterwards
sat down as generalissimo of the business. The individual who
manipulated with the table cloth afterwards made a prayer, universal
in several of its sentiments; but stiffened up tightly with Mormon
notions towards the close.
Two elderly men and a lad entered the room when the orison was
finished, and a discussion followed between the "general" and the
young man who had been praying as to some hymn they should sing.
"Can't find the first hymn," said the young man; and we thought that
a pretty smart thing for a beginning. "Oh, never mind--go farther
on--any--long meter," uttered his interlocutor, and he forthwith
made a sanguine dash into the centre of the book, and gave out a
hymn. The company got into a "peculiar metre" tune at once, and the
singing was about the most comically wretched we ever heard. The lad
who came in with the elderly men tried every range of voice in every
verse, and thought that he had a right to do just as he liked with
the music; the elderly men near him hammed out something in a weak
and time-worn key; the woman got into a high strain and flourished
considerably at the line ends; the little girl said nothing; the
three young men seemed quite unable to get above a monotonous groan,
and the general looked forward, then down, and then smiled a little,
but uttered never a word, and seemed immensely relieved when the
singing was over. The bread which had been broken into the soup
plate was next handed round, and it was succeeded by the pewter pot
measure of water. This was the sacrament, and it was partaken of by
all--the young as well as the old. During the enactment of this part
of the programme a gaily-dressed young female, sporting a Paisley
shawl, ear-rings, a chignon, a small bonnet, and the other
accoutrements of modern fashion, dropped in, and also took the
sacrament. Another hymn was here given out, and the young woman with
the Paisley shawl, &c., rushed straight into the work of singing
without a moment's warning. She carried the others with her, and
enabled them to get through the verses easily. Just when the singing
was ended, a rubicund-featured and bosky female, who had, perhaps,
seen five-and-forty summers, landed in the room, took a seat, and
then took the sacrament. She was the last of the Mohicans, and after
her appearance the door was closed, and the latch dropped.
Speaking succeeded, and the talkers got upon their feet in
accordance with certain nods and memoes from the chairman. They all
eulogised in a joyous strain the glories of Mormonism, but never a
syllable was expressed about wives. A young moustached man led the
way. He told the meeting that he had long been of a religious turn
of mind; that he was a Wesleyan until 17 years of age; that
afterwards he found peace in the Smithsonian church; that the only
true creed was that of Mormonism; that it didn't matter what people
said in condemnation of such creed; and that he should always stick
to it. The thin woman, who seemed to have an awful tongue in her
head, was the second speaker. She panegyrised "the church" in a
phrensied, fierce-tempered, piping strain, talked rapidly about the
"new dispensation," declared that she had accepted it voluntarily,
hadn't been deceived by any one--we hope she never will be--and that
she was happy. Her conclusion was sudden, and she appeared to break
off just before reaching an agony-point. The third talker was one of
the old men, and he commenced with things from "before the
foundations of the world," and brought them down to the present day.
His speech was earnest, florid, and rather argumentative in tone.
After stating that he had a pious spell upon him before visiting the
room, and that the afflatus was still upon him, he entered into a
labyrinthal defence of "the church." "Mormonism," he said, "is more
purer than any other doctrine that is," and "this here faith," he
continued, "has to go on and win." He talked mystically about things
being "resurrectioned," contended that the Solomon Spalding theory
had been exploded, and quoting one of the elders, said that
Mormonism began in a hamlet and got to a village, from a village to
a town, thence to a city, thence to a territory, and that if it got
"just another kick it would as sure as fate be kicked into a great
and mighty nation." This "old man eloquent" seemed over head and
ears in Mormonism, and almost shook with joy at certain points of
his discourse.
The fourth, and the last, speaker was the chairman. He raised his
brawny frame slowly, held a Bible in one hand, and started in this
fashion--"Well I s'pose I've to say something; but I can't tell what
it'll be." This declaration was followed up by a long, wandering
mass of talk, full of repetition and hypothetical theology--a
mixture of Judaism, Christianity, and Mormonism, and from the whole
he endeavoured to distil this "fact" that both Isaiah and St. John
had made certain prophetic statements as to the Book of Mormon and
its transcription by Joe Smith. It did not, however, appear from
what he said that either Isaiah or the seer of Patmos had named
anything about the blanket trick which had to be adopted by Joe is
translating "the Book." But that was perhaps unnecessary; and we
shall not throw a "wet blanket" upon the matter by further alluding
to it. When the chairman had done his speech, the doxology was sung,
and this was supplemented by benediction, pronounced by a young man
who shut his eyes, stretched his hands a quarter of a yard out of
his coat sleeves, and in a most inspired and bishoply style,
delivered the requisite blessing. Hand-shaking, in which we found it
necessary to join, supervened, and then there was a general
disappearance. The whole of the speakers at this meeting--which may
be taken as a fair sample of the gatherings--were illiterate people,
individuals with much zeal and little education; and the manner in
which they crucified sentences, and maltreated the general
principles of logic and common-sense, was really disheartening. They
are very earnest folk; we also believe they are honest; but, after
all, they are "gone coons," beyond the reach of both physic and
argument. We knew none of the Mormons who attended the meeting
described, and singular to say the proprietor of the establishment
wherein they assembled had no knowledge of either their names or
places of abode. They pay him his rent regularly, and he deems that
enough. All that we really know of the sect is, that their chairman
is either a mechanic or a blacksmith somewhere, is plain, muscular,
solemn looking, bass-voiced, and dreamy; and that his flock are a
small, earnest, and preciously-fashioned parcel of sincere, yet
deluded, enthusiasts.