Chapter XXVII

“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.”