Scattered among the congregation were hundreds of ``Gentiles'' ready to leap mentally upon any con- c ession I might make to the Mormon faith; while the Mormons were equally on the alert for any implied criticism of them and their church. The problem of preaching a sermon which should offer some appeal to both classes, without offending either, was a perplexing one, and I solved it to the best of my ability by delivering a sermon I had once given in my own church to my own people. When I had finished I was wholly uncertain of its effect, but at the end of the services one of the bishops leaned toward me from his place in the rear, and, to my mingled horror and amusement, offered me this tribute, ``That is one of the best Mormon sermons ever preached in this Tabernacle.''
I thanked him, but inwardly I was aghast. What had I said to give him such an impression? I racked my brain, but could recall nothing that justified it.
I passed the day in a state of nervous apprehension, fully expecting some frank criticism from the ``Gen- t iles'' on the score of having delivered a Mormon sermon to ingratiate myself into the favor of the Mormons and secure their votes for the constitu- t ional amendment. But nothing of the kind was said. That evening, after the sermon to the ``Gen- t iles,'' a reception was given to our party, and I d rew my first deep breath when the wife of a well- k nown clergyman came to me and introduced her- s elf in these words:
``My husband could not come here to-night, but he heard your sermon this morning. He asked me to tell you how glad he was that under such unusual conditions you held so firmly to the teachings of Christ.''
The next day I was still more reassured. A re- c eption was given us at the home of one of Brigham Young's daughters, and the receiving-line was graced by the presiding elder of the Methodist Episcopal Church. He was a bluff and jovial gen- t leman, and when he took my hand he said, warmly, ``Well, Sister Shaw, you certainly gave our Mormon friends the biggest dose of Methodism yesterday that they ever got in their lives.''
After this experience I reminded myself again that what Frances Willard so frequently said is true;
All truth is our truth when it has reached our hearts; w e merely rechristen it according to our individual creeds.
During the visit I had an interesting conversation with a number of the younger Mormon women. I w as to leave the city on a midnight train, and about twenty of them, including four daughters of Brig- h am Young, came to my hotel to remain with me until it was time to go to the station. They filled the room, sitting around in school-girl fashion on the floor and even on the bed. It was an unusual op- p ortunity to learn some things I wished to know, and I could not resist it.
``There are some questions I would like to ask you,'' I began, ``and one or two of them may seem impertinent. But they won't be asked in that spirit--and please don't answer any that embarrass you.''
They exchanged glances, and then told me to ask as many questions as I wished.
``First of all,'' I said, ``I would like to know the real attitude toward polygamy of the present gen- e ration of Mormon women. Do you all believe in it?''
They assured me that they did.
``How many of you,'' I then asked, ``are polyga- m ous wives?''
There was not one in the group.
``But,'' I insisted, ``if you really believe in polyg- a my, why is it that some of your husbands have not taken more than one wife?''
There was a moment of silence, while each woman looked around as if waiting for another to answer.
At last one of them said, slowly:
``In my case, I alone was to blame. For years I c ould not force myself to consent to my husband's taking another wife, though I tried hard. By the time I had overcome my objection the law was passed prohibiting polygamy.''
A second member of the group hastened to tell her story. She had had a similar spiritual struggle, and just as she reached the point where she was willing to have her husband take another wife, he died. And now the room was filled with eager voices. Four or five women were telling at once that they, too, had been reluctant in the beginning, and that when they had reached the point of consent this, that, or another cause had kept the husbands from marrying again. They were all so passion- a tely in earnest that they stared at me in puzzled wonder when I broke into the sudden laughter I c ould not restrain.
``What fortunate women you all were!'' I ex- c laimed, teasingly. ``Not one of you arrived at the point of consenting to the presence of a second wife in your home until it was impossible for your hus- b and to take her.''
They flushed a little at that, and then laughed with me; but they did not defend themselves against the tacit charge, and I turned the conversation into less personal channels. I learned that many of the Mormon young men were marrying girls outside of the Church, and that two sons of a leading Mormon elder had married and were living very happily with Catholic girls.
At this time the Mormon candidate for Congress (a man named Roberts) was a bitter opponent of woman suffrage. The Mormon women begged me to challenge him to a debate on the subject, which I did, but Mr. Roberts declined the challenge. The ground of his refusal, which he made public through the newspapers, was chastening to my spirit. He explained that he would not debate with me because he was not willing to lower himself to the intellectual plane of a woman.
