Chapter 28.
In Memory of My Wife, Albina.—"By Their Fruits Ye Shall Know Them."
In 1858, when I was returning from my first mission to the Sandwich Islands, I met in San Francisco, Lorenzo Sawyer, the attorney-general of the state of California. He was my cousin on my mother's side. At that time the Mormon people were under a cloud of displeasure from the people and government of the United States. Acting upon misrepresentation, and without investigation, President Buchanan had sent an army of two thousand five hundred men under General Albert S. Johnston, to put down the alleged Mormon rebellion in Utah, as already narrated elsewhere in this journal. My cousin, seemingly wishing to snatch me from the doom overshadowing my people, made me this offer:
"If you will stay here, I will put you into the best school in the state of California for three years, then take you into the office with me, a year, and let you study law. Then I will give you a thousand dollars in gold, for you to commence life with."
That was the most liberal offer that ever came to me. I desired an education, but I loved my people more than I loved myself. I said to my cousin, "You do not know the Mormon people. You believe them rebellious and disloyal to our government. It is not so. The reports put in circulation against them are false. I thank you for your kind offer, but decline it."
I returned to Utah, and on the 23rd day of June my cousin Brigham drove me in a one-horse buggy from Provo to Salt Lake City. At Draper I received the kiss of welcome from my dear mother, and my sister Harriet. At the city I found my father, waiting like "a lion in his lair," and ready to apply the torch to his home if the army did not keep its promise to not camp within the limits of our city." At that time father's families had been moved to Spring Creek, seventy-five miles south of the city. As soon as peace was declared, I engaged actively in moving them back to their homes. When that was accomplished. I told father of the offer my cousin made, and said I am now going back to California to get an education.
The next morning, while I was passing the Church office, Uncle Brigham beckoned to me,—then came out and walked with me to Brother Wells' corner. Here we sat down on a pile of lumber, and after I had told him of my plans, he was silent a moment, then asked,
"Johnny, did you ever know me to give unwise counsel?" "Never." "Well, I want to give you a little counsel. Don't you go to California. Don't you study law. Look around, find a good girl, get married and make yourself a home.