"SPRINGFIELD, October 25th. "My Dear Companion:
"I have just returned from the office where I found a letter from you, and I need not tell you that it was a sweet morsel to me. I could weep like a child if I could get away by myself, to think that I for one moment have been the means of causing you any sorrow; I know that you must have many bad feelings and I feel to pray for you all the time, I assure you that you have not been out of my mind many minutes at a time since I left you. My feelings are of that kind that it makes me sick at heart, so that I have no appetite to eat. My temptations are so severe it seems sometimes as though I should have to lay down and die, I feel as if I should sink beneath it. I go into the woods every chance I have, and pour out my soul before God that He would deliver me and bless you, my dear wife, and the first I would know I would be in tears, weeping like a child about you and the situation I am in; but what can I do but go ahead? My dear Vilate, do not let it cast you down, for the Lord is on our side; this I know from what I see and realize and I marvel at it many times. You are tried and tempted and I am sorry for you, for I know how to pity you. I can say that I never suffered more in all my life than since these things came to pass; and as I have said so say I again, I have felt as if I should sink and die. Oh my God! I ask Thee in the name of Jesus to bless my dear Vilate and comfort her heart and deliver her from temptation and sorrow, and open her eyes and let her see things as they are, for Father Thou knowest our sorrow; be pleased to look upon Thy poor servant and handmaid, and grant us the privilege of living the same length of time that one may not go before the other, for Thou knowest that we desire this with all our hearts. * * * And then, Father, when we have done with our career in this probation, in the one to come may we still be joined in one to remain so to all eternities, and whatever we have done to grieve Thee be pleased to blot it out, and let us be clean and pure before Thee at all times, that we may never be left to sin or betray anyone that believes on Thy name; save us from all this and let our seeds be righteous; incline their hearts to be pure and virtuous, and may this extend from generation to generation, let us have favor in Thy sight and before Thine angels that we may be watched over by them and have strength and grace to support us in the day of our temptation that we may not be overcome and fall. Now my Father, these are the desires of our hearts, and wilt Thou grant them to us for Jesus' sake and to Thy name will we give all the glory forever and ever."
ZINA Y. WILLIAMS.
DAUGHTER OF BRIGHAM YOUNG.
It would be strange indeed, if after the life and labors of Brigham Young, a work of this character should appear, lacking the name and record of his descendants. The sons of noble men have greater opportunities of adding lustre to their father's name by reason of the advantages which sons possess over daughters; yet among our people, women have their acknowledged province in which they may distinguish themselves, in which their position is not borrowed from the other sex, or an infringement upon them; and yet may adorn the memory of even Brigham Young. Such a daughter is Zina Y. Williams, the original of this sketch. Born in plural or celestial marriage, and with an understanding of this condition, as much as any young girl can possess, a wife in the same order of marriage.
Some have said, "Let us see the workings of this system, let us see how the next generation will receive it." The time has come when they can see, and learn that those who understand it best fear it least. The words of the daughter herself, it seems to me, should go farther in effect than mine could for her. Here is a true picture in the home life of the earliest advocates of that ancient principle, restored through Joseph Smith, the prophet. I have known Mrs. Williams beneath her father's roof and in her own married home, intimately, for eighteen years, and knew the union and love of the band of sisters.
"I was born April 3rd, 1850, in Salt Lake City. My mother, Zina H. Young, was made glad by my presence, her only daughter. My father, President Brigham Young, made me welcome; though he was the father of many others he was as much pleased as many men are over their only girl. My childhood was clouded with sickness, and one of my earliest recollections is of my loving mother holding me in her arms, singing a sweet song; with the moonlight streaming over me and gazing out upon the full moon I sank to sleep, soothed from suffering by her magic care. I was the pet of my two brothers and of all my mother's friends. I knew nothing of want or care till the year of famine, (1856) which gave me a faint idea of what want was. (All through the Territory families were on short rations.)
"My father's family lived in a world of their own, there being ten girls with not more than four years' difference in their ages. Our father affectionately called us his 'big ten,' and nowhere on the earth could be found a happier, merrier set of children. We attended school and were instructed in music and dancing on our own premises. Our mothers taught us to respect each other's rights, as they always set the example by treating one another according to the golden rule. A person entering the room where we were assembled would be at a loss to tell which were the own children of the sisters present. We carried out the proverb—'Love thy neighbor as thyself,' literally. When the memorable exodus of 1858 took place, my mother was the first woman who left Salt Lake City. In company with another of my father's wives, Lucy B., (as she is called,) we started south. This was my first trip from home, it seemed like a pleasure trip to me and it was a matter of surprise that my dear mother and auntie were not as much delighted with the change as we children were; but the subsequent discomforts we were subjected to, and our lonely hours spent away from our dearly loved sisters caused many a heart pang and we began to realize something of the sacrifices made by our people when our enemies came and invaded our homes. My mother was the last of father's family to leave Provo, after the return of the people to their former homes. On our arrival, after a year's absence, father asked mother to take charge of four of his little ones whose mother was dead. She consented, and this event entirely changed my after life; from being the pet and only child I now had to share with these motherless children. It was a trial in many ways, but my precious mother taught me to be unselfish and thank God for all His blessings and not complain, and I am thankful to say, following her advice without once alluding to the fact that my mother was not their own. Thus it proved to be the best lesson of my life, and a great blessing.
"My life flowed on in peaceful current, going to school, but going upon the stage when quite young greatly impaired my health. I married when eighteen. My husband, Thomas Williams, had been in my father's employ in his office, for several years; then in the Theatre, where I saw him frequently, but, as he was much older than I, it never occurred to me to fall in love with him. 'None knew him but to love him,' the bard wrote, which is true of my husband. I was his second wife, and here let me testify that in entering into the order of plural marriage, both my husband and myself did so from the purest and holiest motives. For six years I was his loving wife, bearing two sons, Sterling and Thomas Edgar. In July, 1873, my dear husband was called home. None but those who are called upon to pass through similar circumstances can know the sorrow and anguish it is to part from a loving, noble husband and father.
"My time now was given principally to my Church duties and to the support of my dear children. In all my trials my dear mother was my comfort and support. By the advice of my father, I went to Sevier County and took up a quarter section of land. I went to St. George at the completion of the Temple, and met many dear friends and relatives; my father was there, and those who were present, will, I believe, never forget the heavenly intercourse enjoyed by the Saints while thus convened. Shortly after our return to the city, our honored father was stricken down with his last sickness. Never was there a more solemn scene than that witnessed at his death, his family were there, also the head men of the Church. Physicians with their futile skill were standing round, the faith and anxiety of the whole Church were centered around that dying form and departing soul of God's Prophet at that trying hour. His body unconscious now to pain, was there before us, but his noble spirit already saw behind the veil which screens from us the immortal spheres. 'Joseph! Joseph!' were his last words, and when he breathed his last his face became radiant as if molten sunbeams had been poured into his veins, giving him an unearthly and celestial appearance never to be forgotten by those who surrounded his dying couch. After a settlement of our father's estate I removed to Provo in order to give my dear children and myself the advantages of attending the Brigham Young Academy. In January of this same year, President Taylor sent me, in company with Sister Emmeline B. Wells, to visit the Woman's Suffrage Convention held in Washington. After my return I began teaching in the Brigham Young Academy, taking charge of the young ladies and organizing a work class; also the primary department in which position I have been actively engaged ever since. The Brigham Young Academy was endowed by inspiration by him whose name it bears. Professor Karl G. Maeser was called to act as principal at the commencement, and when he asked for instruction from its noble founder, he received only this: 'Ask God to guide you in all things and carry it on under His directions; this is all I have to say.'