"He died, he died, for those he loved, He reigns, he reigns, in the realms above.

"Shout, shout, ye Saints! This boon is given,-- We'll meet our martyred seer in heaven."

When they had settled into their seats, the Wild Ram of the Mountains arose and invoked a blessing on those present and upon those who had gone behind the veil; adding a pet.i.tion that Brigham be increased in his basket and in his store, in wives, flocks, and herds, and in the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

They sang another hymn, and when that was done, the little bent man arose and came hesitatingly forward to the baize-covered table that served as a pulpit. As President of the Stake it was his office to welcome the visitors, and this he did.

There were whisperings in the audience when his appearance was noted. It was the first time he had been seen by many of them in weeks. They whispered that he was failing.

"He ought to be home this minute," was the first Mrs. Wardle's diagnosis to the fifth Mrs. Wardle, behind her hymn-book, "with his feet in a mustard bath and a dose of gamboge and a big brewing of catnip tea. I can tell a fever as far as I can see it."

The words of official welcome spoken, he began his discourse; but in a timid, shuffling manner so unlike his old self that still others whispered of his evident illness. Inside he burned with his purpose, but, with all his resolves, the presence of Brigham left him unnerved.

He began by referring to their many adversities since the day when they had first knelt to entreat the mercy of G.o.d upon the land. Then he spoke of revelations.

"You must all have had revelations, because they have come even to me.

Perhaps you were deaf to the voice, as I have been. Perhaps you have trusted too readily in some revelation that came years ago, supposedly from G.o.d--in truth, from the Devil. Perhaps you have been deaf to later revelations meant to warn you of the other's falseness."

He was still uneasy, hesitating, fearful; but he saw interest here and there in the faces before him. Even Brigham, though unseen by the speaker, was looking mildly curious.

"You remember the revelation that came to Joseph in an early day when there was trouble in raising money to print the Book of Mormon,--'Some revelations are from G.o.d, some from man, and some from the Devil.'

Recalling the many chastenings G.o.d has put upon us, may we not have failed to test all our other revelations by this one?"

Deep within he was angry at himself, for he was not speaking with words of fire as he had meant to; he was feeling a shameful cowardice in the presence of the Prophet. He had seen himself once more the Lute of the Holy Ghost, strong and moving; but now he was a poor, low-spoken, hesitating rambler. Nervously he went on, skirting about the edge of his truth as long as he dared, but feeling at last that he must plunge into its icy depths.

"In short, brethren, the Book of Mormon denounces and forbids our plural marriages."

Even this astounding declaration he made without warmth, in tones so low that many did not hear him. Those on the platform heard, however, and now began to view his obvious physical weakness in a new light. Yet he continued, gaining a little in force.

"The declarations on the subject in the Book of Mormon are so worded that we cannot fail to read them as denouncing and forbidding the practise of the Old Testament patriarchs in this matter of the family life."

In rapid succession he cited the pa.s.sages to which he referred, those concerning David and Solomon and Noah and Ripkalish, who "did not do that which was right in the sight of the Lord, for he did have many wives."

There were murmurings and rustlings among the people now, and on his right he heard Brigham stirring ominously in his chair; but he nerved himself to keep on his feet, feeling he had that to say which should make them hail him as a new prophet when they understood.

"But besides these warnings against the sin there are many early revelations to Joseph himself condemning it."

He cited several of these, feeling the amazement and the alarm grow about him.

"And now against these plain words, given at many times in many places, written on the golden plates in letters that cannot lie, or brought to Joseph by the angel of the Lord, we have only the one revelation on celestial marriage. Read it now in the light of these other revelations and see if it does not too plainly convict itself of having been counterfeited to Joseph by an evil spirit. Such, brethren, has been the revelation that the Lord has given to me again and again until it burns within me, and I must cry it out to you. Try to receive it from me."

There was commotion among the people in front, chairs were moved at his side, and a low voice called to him to sit down. He heard this voice through the ringing that had been in his ears for many days, like the beating of a sea against him, and he felt the strength go suddenly from his knees.

He stumbled weakly back to his chair and sank into it with head bowed, feeling, rather than seeing, the figure of Brigham rise from its seat and step forward with deliberate, unruffled majesty.

As the Prophet faced his people they became quite silent, so that the robins could be heard in the Pettigrew peach-trees across the street. He poured a gla.s.s of water from the pitcher on the table, and drank of it slowly. Then, leaning a little forward, resting both his big cushiony hands on the green of the table, the Lion of the Lord began to roar--very softly at first. Slowly the words came, in tones scarce audible, marked indeed almost by the hesitation of the first speaker.

But then a difference showed; gradually the tone increased in volume, the words came faster, fluency succeeding hesitation, and now his voice was high and searching, while his easy, masterful gestures laid their old spell upon the people.

"It does not occupy my feelings to curse any individual," he had begun, awkwardly; "in fact, I feel to render all thanks and praise for the discourse to which we have just listened, but I couldn't help saying to myself, 'Oh, dear, Granny! what a long tale our puss has got!'"

An uneasy t.i.tter came from the packed square of faces in front of him.

He went on with rising power:

"But it is foretold in the Book of Mormon that the Lord will remove the bitter branches, and it's a good thing to find out where the bitter branches are. We can remove them ourselves. We can't expect the Lord to do _all_ our dirty work. Now hear it once more, you that need to hear it--and d.a.m.n all such poor p.u.s.s.yism as sniffles and whines and rejects it! We don't want that scrubby breed here!--Listen, I say. The celestial order of marriage is necessary for our exaltation to the fulness of the Lord's glory in the world eternal. Where much is given much is required.

Understand me,--those that reject polygamy will be d.a.m.ned. Hear it now once for all. I will give you to know that G.o.d, our Father, has many wives, and so has Jesus Christ, our Elder Brother. Our G.o.d and Father in heaven is _a being of tabernacle_, or, in other words, He has a body of parts the same as you and I have. And that G.o.d and Father of ours was Adam."

Again there was a stirring below as if a wind swept the people, and the little man in his chair cowered for shame of himself. He had meant to do a great thing; he had thrilled so strongly with it; it had promised to master others as it had mastered him; and now he was shamed by the one true Lion of the Lord.

"Hear it now," continued Brigham. "When G.o.d, our Father Adam, came into the garden of Eden, he came into it with a celestial body, and brought one of his wives with him,--Eve. He made and organised this world. He is Michael, the Archangel, the Ancient of Days, _about whom holy men have written and spoken_. He is our Father and our G.o.d, and the only G.o.d with whom we have to do. I could tell you much more about this; but were I to tell you the whole truth, blasphemy would be nothing to it, in the estimation of the superst.i.tious and over-righteous of mankind. But I will tell you this, that Jesus, our Elder Brother, was begotten in the flesh by the same character that was in the garden of Eden, and who is our Father in Heaven."

A chorus of Amens from the platform greeted this. It was led by the Wild Ram of the Mountains. In his chair the little bent man now cowered lower and lower, one moment praying for strength, the next for death; feeling the blood surge through him like storm waves that would beat him down.

If only Heaven would send him one last moment of power to word this truth so that it might prevail. But Brigham was continuing.

"And what of this Elder Brother, Jesus? Did he reject the patriarchal order--like some poor pusillanimous cry-babies among us? No, I say! It will be borne in mind that once on a time there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee; and on a careful reading of that transaction it will be discovered that no less a person than Jesus Christ was married on that occasion. If he was never married his intimacy with Mary and Martha, and the other Mary also, whom Jesus loved, must have been highly unbecoming and improper, to say the best of it. I will venture to say that, if Jesus Christ was now to pa.s.s through the most pious countries in Christendom, with a train of women such as used to follow Him, fondling about Him, combing His hair, anointing Him with precious ointments, washing His feet with tears, and wiping them with the hair of their heads,--that, unmarried or even married, He would be mobbed, tarred and feathered, and ridden, not on an a.s.s, but on a rail. Now did He multiply, and did He see His seed? Others may do as they like, but I will not charge our Saviour with neglect or transgression in this or any other duty."

He turned and went to his seat with a last threatening gesture, amid many little sounds of people relaxing from strained positions.

But then, before another could arise, a wonder came upon them. The little man stood up and came quickly forward, a strange new life in his step, a new confidence in his bearing, a curious glow of new strength in his face. Even his stoop had straightened for the moment. For, as he had listened to Brigham's last words, the picture of his vision in the desert had come back,--the cross in the sky, the crucified Saviour upon it, the head in death-agony fallen over upon the shoulder. And then before his eyes had come page after page of that New Testament with a wash of blood across two of them. He felt the new life he had prayed for pouring into his veins, and with it a fierce anger. The one on the cross who had been more than man, who had shirked no sacrifice and loved infinitely, was not thus to be a.s.sailed. A panorama of wrong--wrong thinking and wrong doing--extended before his clearing gaze. For once he seemed to see truth in a vision and to feel the power to utter it.

There was silence again as he stood in front of the little table, the faces before him frozen into wonder that he should have either the power or the temerity to answer Brigham. He spoke, and his voice was again rough with force, and high and fearless, a voice many of them recalled from the days when he had not been weak.

"Now I see what we have done. Listen, brethren, for G.o.d has not before so plainly said it to any man, and I know my time is short among you. We have gone back to the ages of Hebrew barbarism for our G.o.d--to the G.o.d of Battles worshipped by a heathen people--a G.o.d who loved the reek of blood and the smell of burning flesh. But you shall not--"

He turned squarely and fiercely to the face of Brigham.

"--you shall not confuse that b.l.o.o.d.y G.o.d of Battles with the true Christ, nor yet with the true G.o.d of Love that this Christ came to tell us of. Once I believed in Him. I was taught to by your priests. War seemed a righteous thing, for we had been grievously put upon, and I believed the G.o.d of Israel should avenge our wrongs as He had avenged those of His older Zion. And hear me now--so long as I believed this, I was no coward; while you, sir--"

A long forefinger was pointed straight at the amazed Brigham.

"--while you, sir, were a craven, contemptible in your cowardice. I would have fought in Echo Canon to the end, because I believed. But you did not believe, and so you were afraid to fight. And for your cowardice and your wretched l.u.s.ts your name among all but your ignorant dupes shall become a hissing and a scorn. For mark it well, unless you forsake that heathen G.o.d of Battles and preach the divine Christ of the New Testament, you shall come to hold only the ignorant, and them only by keeping them ignorant."

The commotion among the people in front was now all but a panic. On the platform the sires of Israel whispered one to another, while Brigham gazed as if fascinated, driven to admiration for the speaker's power and audacity. For the feverish, fleeting moment, Joel Rae was that veritable Lion of the Lord he had prayed to be, putting upon the people his spell of the old days. Heads were again strained up and forward, and amazed horror was on most of the faces. Far back, Prudence trembled, feeling that she must be away at once, until she felt the firm grasp of Follett's hand. The speaker went on, having turned again to the front.

"Instead of a church you shall become justly hated and despised as a people who foul their homes and dishonour beyond forgiveness the names of wife and mother. Then your punishment shall come upon you as it has already come for this and for other sins. Even now the Gentile is upon us; and mark this truth that G.o.d has but now given me to know: we have never been persecuted as a church,--but always as a political body hostile to the government of this nation. Even so, you had no faith.

Believing as I believed, I would have fought that nation and died a thousand b.l.o.o.d.y deaths rather than submit. But you had no faith, and you were so low that you let yourselves be ruled by a coward--and I tell you G.o.d _hates_ a coward."

Now the old pleading music came into his voice,--the music that had made him the Lute of the Holy Ghost in the Poet's roster of t.i.tles.

"O brethren, let me beg you to be good--simply good. Nothing can prevail against you if you are. If you are not, nothing shall avail you,--the power of no priesthood, no signs, ordinances, or rituals. Believe me, I know. Not even the forgiveness of the Father. For I tell you there is a divinity within each of you that you may some day unwittingly affront; and then you shall lie always in h.e.l.l, for if you cannot forgive yourself, the forgiveness of G.o.d will not free you even if it come seventy times seven. I _know_. For fifteen years I have lain in h.e.l.l for the work this Church did at Mountain Meadows. A cross was put there to the memory of those we slew. Not a day has pa.s.sed but that cross has been burned and cut into my living heart with a blade of white heat. Now I am going to h.e.l.l; but I am tired and ready to go. Nor do I go as a coward, as _you_ will go--"

Again the long forefinger was flung out to point at Brigham.

"--but I shall go as a fighter to the end. I have not worshipped Mammon, and I have conquered my flesh--conquered it after it had once all but conquered me, so that I had to fight the harder--"

He stopped, waiting as if he were not done, but the spell was broken.

The life, indeed, had in the later moments been slowly dying from his words; and, as they lost their fire, scattered voices of protest had been heard; then voices in warning from behind him, and the sound of two or three rising and pushing back their chairs.

Now that he no longer heard his own voice he stood quivering and panic-stricken, the fire out and the pained little smile coming to make his face gentle again. He turned weakly toward Brigham, but the Prophet had risen from his seat and his broad back was rounded toward the speaker. He appeared to be consulting a group of those who stood on the platform, and they who were not of this group had also turned away.

The little bent man tried again to smile, hoping for a friendly glance, perhaps a hand-clasp without words from some one of them. Seeing that he was shunned, he stepped down off the platform at the side, twisting his hat in his long, thin hands in embarra.s.sment. A moment he stood so, turning to look back at the group of priests and Elders around the Prophet, seeking for any sign, even for a glance that should be not unkind. The little pained smile still lighted his face, but no friendly look came from the others. Seeing only the backs turned toward him, he at length straightened out his crumpled hat, still smiling, and slowly put it on his head; as he turned away he pulled the hat farther over his eyes, and then he was off along the dusty street, looking to neither side, still with the little smile that made his face gentle.