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Elder Northfield's Home
or, Sacrificed on the Mormon Altar A Story of the Blighting Curse of Polygamy
By A. Jennie Bartlett, Nicole Tonkovich UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA PRESS
Copyright © 2015 Board of Regents of the University of Nebraska
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-8032-7406-8
CHAPTER 1
"Well, Marion, here we are!—trunks packed; farewell calls made; passages engaged; tears all shed;—wish I were sure of the last. O how hard I find it to leave my dear home and country, much as I always wished to go to America, and to have a home with aunt Wells! But you, Marion, seem so very happy. I wonder if I should be in such a delightful frame of mind if I were on the eve of marrying a Mormon elder, and emigrating with him to Zion, as you call it, where the people are all of one faith, the women dress so simply, and think and care for nothing but their religion. I am afraid I should make a poor saint, Marion. I couldn't give away all my fine dresses, jewelry and ornaments, as you have done; I should keep them, and at least dress in them once in a while, if but to admire myself and not forget how I used to look when I belonged to the world, and I should not want to attend meetings so constantly. This emigrating to Zion seems to me altogether uncalled for. The new people seem to be a very good, religious people, with many good precepts in their doctrine. But there is much in their belief that calls for an amount of faith which I am incapable of exercising. I do not see why these other denominations are not quite as likely to tide us safely into heaven as Mormonism, and certainly their ways are much pleasanter."
"Ah, Elsie," responded Marion, "you seek to get into heaven by an easy way. 'Straight is the road, narrow is the way, and few there be that find it.' Doesn't Christ say 'follow me,' and was his life here on earth an easy one? Did he not say, 'Thy will, not mine, be done?' Did he not cast in his lot with the despised and lowly, and should the disciple be above his Master? Are we to expect to wear the crown, if we do not bear the cross, in this life? I am filled with peace and joy, the more so the more sacrifice I make for the kingdom. I never knew such happiness before, and I feel like being just as holy and obedient to God as possible. The greatest pleasure I have now is in attending these meetings. The Spirit of God is powerfully manifested, and as you know, many who come to scoff go away converted, or thoughtful at least, and you, Elsie, I think, cannot deny that the power of God is with them, as though they were his chosen people."
"Yes, Marion, I must admit the meetings have an influence over me when I am present, and the elders seem to prove all they say from the Bible, and I can't for my life reason their arguments away. But when I am alone I begin to think for myself, and somehow I can't have faith in these divine revelations to Joseph Smith and Brigham Young. I know, as they say, the Bible says 'your young men shall dream dreams, and your old men shall see visions.' I know they say, 'If men were inspired in olden times, why not now?' Perhaps Mormonism is the true religion; but I can't believe that our own dear mother, that dear old aunt Eunice, that Agnes Ainsworth, who died so sweetly, after living such a good life, and that our minister, and all the good people we know, must be shut out of heaven because they were not gathered into the Church of Latter-day Saints. Their idea of a new dispensation is not clear to me. But I have not received so many private lectures on the subject as you have, Marion. After so much conversation as you have enjoyed with Elder Northfield, you ought to understand the mysteries of the doctrine perfectly. O, do not try to hide your blushes! They are very becoming—or would be if you were not so plainly dressed, and if the effect were heightened by some of the vanities you have discarded and packed in my trunk. It would be but a poor reward for all his devotion, his earnest love-making and missionary zeal, if you did not sympathize with him in his religion, which seems to be a part of himself. But I can't help thinking that he has rather neglected me, and that if some of these hours devoted to you had been spent in preaching to me, he might have been rewarded for the sacrifice by adding another convert to his list."
"I wish he had, Elsie; indeed I do."
"Well, but you did not seem to wish so then, Marion."
"I will not be so selfish any more, and I will ask him on the voyage to teach you, and explain all these things, for somehow I am not good at explaining them myself, though they are so clear to me as Henry expounds to me the doctrine."
"God grant, dear sister, that you may always be as happy in your religion as you are now! I never thought we should be separated, but I cannot go with you to Utah, for I am not a Mormon—unless Henry converts me on the way, and I fancy his bride will have most of his attention, as she has heretofore."
"O, I pray you may yet see the light and go with me! The separation from you is the only cloud in my sky. With you and Henry, I should be happy anywhere!"
"Marion, forgive me if I say anything to grieve you, but to-morrow I give you to Henry; and this is our last confidential talk while you are mine, and perhaps for a great while, for we shall scarcely be alone hereafter, and something tells me our old confidence will not be the same after you are married, so I want to tell you all my thoughts tonight. Are you sure that your happiness, peace, and joy come from this heavenly love entirely? I observe that when Henry is the speaker in the meetings you are aroused to much more enthusiasm for your religion than at other times. Now might you not mistake your happiness, and love for him, and your interest in everything that interests him, your sympathy with him in all he thinks and believes, for religious devotion? Are you sure you know your own heart, Marion?"
"O, sister, how can you ask me?"
"I did not mean to pain you, but I feared your religion alone might not always give you such peace. I hope, with all my soul, it will. It is very beautiful to think so."
"I know it will, Elsie! I love Henry, O, so much! You cannot think how much. I love him even more than I love you, Elsie! but I truly believe I love God and my religion more. Henry himself has taught me that 'whosoever leaveth not father and mother, sister and brother, husband and wife, for God and the gospel, is not worthy to be reckoned a saint.' I think—yes, I think—I would leave them all if God required the sacrifice."
"Then, Marion, dear, I did you injustice in my thoughts, and with all my heart I hope, in your new life, you will be, as you seem now, perfectly happy."
"Except for the thought of leaving you behind; and one other thing which of course it is very silly to mention, or to be troubled with. But I will open my heart to you, as you have to me, on this last night we may be alone together. Of course it cannot be true—it must be a scandal—the report we heard of some of the saints in Utah having more than one wife. But once in a while-only once in a great while—my heart suddenly sinks, so that it seems as if I should faint, and the thought of that report flashes into my mind, and I dismiss it as suddenly. Then I am all right again. I have talked with Henry about it, and he says it is a foul slander against the church of God. That always God's chosen people have suffered persecution for righteousness sake, and he quoted the words, 'Blessed are ye when men shall revile you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for my name's sake.' Henry does not in the least believe that, or any other wickedness is sanctioned there. You know the saints are not popular, and many are poor, and public opinion is against them. But in the Celestial Kingdom, they will have honor enough to compensate for all their trials here. Henry says if he for a moment supposed that this rumor was true, he never could believe in Mormonism. When we were in London, at the conference, we went together and asked an elder from Utah, and he was astonished and indignant, and denied it positively. So of course there can be no truth in the rumor, and I feel that it is wicked to even think of such an unholy thing. I resolve never to think of it again, but still the thought comes like a black shadow across my path. Now, Elsie, can it be possible, do you think, that such a thing is practised there?"
"Of course it cannot be, Marion! I do not for one moment doubt the elder's word. I wonder you even think of it at all—though the possibility of such a thing would be terrible to you, of course, as you are to be a Mormon elder's wife. These men are good, moral men, I do not doubt in the least, however mistaken they may be in their belief, and as they study the Bible, and take everything so literally, they would be the last to disregard its plain teachings on that subject. Why! only the vilest of men could be guilty of such a crime, and certainly these Mormons we have seen are intelligent, noble-minded men. Your own promised husband is a man of whom a woman might well be proud, Marion. I respect him as I respect few men, and admire his kind-heartedness, his intellect, his untiring zeal for 'the truth,' as he calls it, and think it is very noble of him to sacrifice his position and fine prospects as he did, for what he deemed his duty, and cast in his lot with this people. If I must lose my sister, I could not have chosen better for her. But O, if he were not a Mormon, and would not take you away from me to that wild and far away place! Marion, darling! when shall I ever see you again after you leave me in New York!"
"Come with me, Elsie! O, that you might be persuaded to give up all for religion! You would be so much happier! See how I am changed—naturally not light-hearted like you, rather inclined to sad, morbid feelings; but they are all gone, and now I am much the happier of the two. Cast away your doubts and go with me to Utah, and you will then see and know for yourself the beauties of religion, I do believe. O, my dear sister, won't you—won't you come with us?"
"I can't, Marion, I can't! I shiver at the thought, though why I don't know!"
Then these twin sisters mingled their tears in silence, and their hearts were knit together in the purest and strongest of sisterly love.
Made orphans two years before, by the death of a kind and loving father, they became more dear to each other in their common sorrow, and were one, in heart and soul, as sisters seldom are. Reared in comfort in a happy home in England, and with no care or thought of poverty, it was a great change to find with their father's death, they were nearly penniless.
Charles Wescott fully lived up to his income, and indulged himself and daughters to many luxuries and extravagances which were usually confined to people in a higher grade of social life. He literally took "no thought for the morrow," and his young and sorrowful daughters found that they were dependent on their own exertions for their daily bread. Elsie obtained a situation as teacher in the public schools, and Marion was kindly employed by her friends to teach music to their children. Recently a sister of their mother (who died during their infancy) had written to them from her home in New York, begging them to come to her, as she had just lost by death her only daughter, and her elegant home was desolate and lonely. They resolved to go, as soon as they could properly conclude their engagements. Meanwhile a crisis came in one life at least.
They had heard of the Mormons, or Latter-day Saints, and their curiosity was excited. One day as they returned from their labors to their boarding-place, and entered the parlor, they found there a gentleman, plainly dressed in black, bending over a large Bible lying open on the table. As he rose and apologized for his presence, and begged them to remain, he displayed a fine form, and handsome, thoughtful face. His eyes, large, dark, and full of a pleasant light, seemed to look beyond the surface, into the inner life. His forehead, high and intellectual, was shaded by soft wavy black hair, and as his lips parted in a smile, they disclosed the whitest and firmest of teeth. Soon he was on pleasant terms with his new friends, talking with them familiarly. As Elsie saw Marion's eyes light up, and her cheeks glow with enthusiasm, she did not fail to notice the glances of admiration the gentleman bestowed on her. At his request Marion seated herself at the piano. Her golden hair would stray from its fastenings, and peep out in little rings about her neck and forehead. Her color came and went and constantly changed her face from the paleness of marble to the loveliest pink. Her sky-blue eyes glanced shyly up as she spoke. Elsie came near, with her auburn hair and fair, piquant face, her large brown eyes beaming with love and pride in Marion's accomplishment. Their new acquaintance joined them in their songs and displayed much musical talent. Thus the hour before tea rapidly passed, and then Mrs. Newton, the lady of the house, appeared and introduced the new-comer as Elder Northfield. Great was the surprise of Marion and Elsie to learn that their new acquaintance was a Mormon elder, and that he was to hold a meeting that evening in a small hall. They resolved to attend. Mrs. Newton accompanied them. There were assembled only a few people, for the pastors of the churches were universally opposed to the new movement and had warned their flocks against it. The young elder, after an earnest prayer, in a clear and attractive way proclaimed the doctrines of his belief, and, with Bible in hand, proved every assertion from its pages. Verse after verse, chapter after chapter, he readily turned to or repeated, until it seemed that they were listening, not to his words, but to the words of the Bible brought forth in a new light, and by one filled with inspiration from on high. His eloquence and earnestness increased as he proceeded, till his face was transformed and his eyes were filled with what seemed a heavenly light. His words carried more or less of conviction to every heart. The deepest silence reigned. All eyes were riveted on the speaker, and breathlessly they listened to his closing appeal to cast away their sins, enter the true Church of God, and enjoy that wonderful abiding peace—the fullness of joy. He offered a short prayer, appointed another meeting, and gave out a closing hymn, which was sung by the whole congregation. As Marion listened to his voice among the others, its sweetness thrilled her through and through, and she felt that to cast her life in with such a people, to be filled with the same holy joy with which this man was blessed was then her greatest desire.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Elder Northfield's Home by A. Jennie Bartlett, Nicole Tonkovich. Copyright © 2015 Board of Regents of the University of Nebraska. Excerpted by permission of UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA PRESS.
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