Around the World with Josiah Allen's Wife by Marietta Holley (life changing books TXT) 📗

“By Jordan’s stormy banks we stand

 And cast a wistful eye

On Canaan’s fair and happy land,

 Where my possessions lie.”

Oh, human love and longing, how strong thou art! I knowed that him meant the things of the sperit, but my human heart translated it, and I sithed and felt that the Jordan my soul wuz passin’ through wuz indeed a hard pathway, and I couldn’t help castin’ a wishful eye on Jonesville’s 49 fair and happy land, where my earthly possession, my Josiah, lay.

But to resoom. We had hearn that Polygamy wuz still practised there, and we had hearn that it wuzn’t. But every doubt on that subject wuz laid to rest by an invitation we all had to go and visit a Mormon family livin’ not fur off, and Miss Meechim and I went, she not wantin’ Dorothy to hear a word on the subject. She said with reason, that after all her anxiety and labors to keep her from marryin’ one man, what would be her feelin’s to have her visit a man who had boldly wedded ’leven wives and might want a even dozen!

I could see it to once, so didn’t urge the matter, but left Tommy with her and Aronette. As nigh as I could make out, the Mormons had felt that Miss Meechim and I wuz high in authority in Gentile climes, one on us had that air of nobility and command that is always associated with high authority, and they felt that one on us could do their cause much good if they could impress us favorable with the custom, so they put their best twenty-four feet forward and did their level best to show off their doctrine in flyin’ colors. But they didn’t do any good to “one on us,” nor to Miss Meechim, either; she’s sound in doctrine, though kinder weak and disagreeable in spots.

Well, we found that this family lived in splendid style, and the husband and all his pardners acted happy whether they wuz or not. And I d’no how or why it wuz, but when we all sot down in their large cool parlor, Miss Meechim and I in our luxurious easy chairs, and our host in one opposite with his wife occupyin’ ’leven chairs at his sides, a feelin’ of pity swep’ over me––pity for that man.

Yes, as I looked at that one lonely man, small boneded at that, and then looked at them ’leven portly wimmen that called that man “our husband,” I pitied him like a dog. I had never thought of pityin’ Mormon men before, but had poured out all my pity and sympathy onto the female Mormons. But havin’ a mind like a oxes for strength, I begun 50 to see matters in a new light, and I begun to spozen to myself, even whilst I sot there with my tongue keepin’ up a light dialogue on the weather, the country, etc., with the man and his wife (’leven on ’em). I spozed what if they should all git mad at him at one time how wuz he goin’ to bear their ’leven rages flashin’ from twenty-two eyes, snortin’ from ’leven upturned noses, fallin’ from ’leven angry voices, and the angry jesters from twenty-two scornful hands. Spozein’ they all got to weepin’ on his shoulder at one time how could one shoulder blade stand it under the united weight of ’leven full-sized females, most two ton of ’em, amidst more’n forty-four nervous sobs, for they would naterally gin more’n two apiece. In sickness now, if they wanted to soothe his achin’ brow, and of course they would all want to, and have the right to. But how could twenty-two hands rest on that one small fore-top? Sixty-six rubs at the least figger, for if they stroked his forehead at all they would want to stroke it three times apiece, poor creeter! would not delerium ensue instead of sooth? And spozein’ they all took it into their heads to hang on his arm with both arms fondly whilst out walkin’ by moonlight, how could twenty-two arms be accommodated by two small scrawny elbows?

It couldn’t be done. And as I mused on’t I spoke right out onbeknown to me, and sez I:

“The Lord never meant it to be so; it hain’t reasonable; it’s aginst common sense.”

And the hull twelve sez, “What didn’t the Lord mean? What wuz aginst common sense?”

And bein’ ketched at it, I sez, “The Mormon doctrine;” sez I, “to say nothin’ on moral and spiritual grounds, and state rights, it’s against reason and good sense.”

I felt mortified to think I had spoke out loud, but had to stand my ground after I had said it.

But they all said that the Mormon doctrine wuz the true belief, that it wuz writ in heaven, then it wuz engraved on plates, and dug up by Joe Smith, a Latter Day Saint.

Sez I, “If anybody trys to prove sunthin’ they want to, they can most always dig up sunthin’ to prove it. You say a man dug this plate up; what if some woman should go to diggin’ and find a plate provin’ that one woman ort to have ’leven husbands?”

“Oh, no!” sez the man in deep scorn, “no such plate could be found!”

The wimmen all looked as if they would kinder like to see such dishes, but they all sez faintly, “We don’t spoze that it could be found.”

“But,” I sez, “you don’t know how many plates there are in the ground, nor who’ll dig ’em up.”

“Oh, that idee is preposterous!” sez the man, as visions of dividin’ one woman’s heart into eleven parts and reignin’ over that little mossel riz up before him. “Men never would agree to that; there would be mutiny, internal bloodshed and sizm.”

“Well,” sez I, “mebby there is more or less internal heart bleedin’ goin’ on in the wimmen’s hearts that have to divide a man’s love and care a dozen times.” Sez I, “A hull man’s hull affections are onstiddy and wobblin’ and oncertain enough without dividin’ it up so many times.”

Them wimmen wuz touched. I see a answerin’ gleam of understandin’ come into about twenty-one eyes as I spoke; one on ’em stood firm and looked hauty and cast iron, but I mistrusted it wuz a glass eye, but don’t know, it might have been principle.

And even on the man’s small-sized countenance my words had seemed to make a impression. But yet he didn’t want to give up in a minute; he spoke of how the Mormons had flourished since they come to Utah, how they had turned the desert into a garden, and he felt that the Lord must look on ’em favorable or they wouldn’t be so prosperous.

“Yes,” sez I, not wantin’ to lie, “your country is beautiful, it is in a flourishing state, and shows the good results of systematic labor, industry and ambition; you have made the 52 desert bloom like the rosy, many of your ways and customs might be follered with profit by older communities, and more orthodox accordin’ to my idees. But I don’t know as your flourishin’ in worldly affairs is