“Verily, thus saith the Lord unto my servant Joseph, that inasmuch as you have enquired at my hand, to know and understand wherein I, the Lord, justified [!] my servants Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, as also Moses, David and Solomon, my servants, as touching the principle and doctrine of their having many wives and concubines,” &c.

What could I possibly think of a “Prophet” who, after having the law laid down so clearly, and being told so distinctly that the doings of David and Solomon were an “abomination,” and that a man should have but one wife, should enquire of the Lord how He “justified” the very things which He had just declared were “an abomination” unto Him?—Then, too, what blasphemy to represent God as one day giving a “Revelation” declaring a thing sinful, and the next day “justifying” it! I felt perfectly humiliated with myself that I had never before had the courage to look the matter calmly in the face and discover, as I must have discovered, had I only used my unaided reason, the shameful imposture which had been palmed upon us. I now made careful enquiry, and it was soon clear to me that evidence was not wanting to prove that the doctrine of plural marriages originated in the licentious hearts of Joseph Smith and those associated with him. When once I was convinced of that, the whole fabric of my religion crumbled before my eyes; and from that time I can hardly say that I had faith in anything that had been taught me.

My husband’s second wife was also very unhappy now. She, too, after the general rule, had flattered herself that she was “his first and only love,” and it was not pleasant to have her dream of happiness dispelled; but now that another “jewel” was to be added to our husband’s crown, she could no longer deceive herself. She little knew, poor girl, when she married, that a Mormon’s heart is like a honeycomb—there is always a vacant cell wherein another may nestle.

Real trouble, too, she had. One of her children was taken very sick, and after a very severe illness died. I remained with her night and day, and did what I could for the poor child. Had it been possible for me to have felt a greater loathing and detestation for that vile system of Polygamy, that feeling would have been conceived while I watched at the bedside of my husband’s dying child. It was there that I vowed that no polygamists should ever marry another daughter of mine, and resolved that to my dying day my voice should be raised against the unholy and unnatural teachings of the Mormon Priesthood. I looked at that lonely young mother, who in her hour of trial ought to have had all her husband’s sympathy, all his attention, to support her; but who, instead, knew that, however kind he might be to her, he was contemplating a new marriage, and his thoughts must of necessity be more or less with his purposed bride. All unkind feeling was banished from my heart—I forgot that she was my husband’s wife, and remembered only that, like myself, she was a suffering woman, a victim to a false faith; and I felt very deeply for her in her time of sorrow and bereavement.

My husband, at this time, had been a member of the Mormon Church for twenty-five years. He had lectured, preached, written and published, in Great Britain, Switzerland, and the United States, in support of the Mormon faith. He had been a most earnest and consistent member of the Church, and devotedly attached to Brigham Young. This attachment to Brother Brigham he shared in common with all the staunchest of his brethren; for while the members of the Church retain unshaken confidence in the new revelation, they naturally acquire a great regard for the Prophet, and render him unquestioning obedience. I believe that my husband would willingly have laid down his life, if by so doing he could have shielded Brigham Young from harm or have been of essential service to him.

But causes were now in operation which, by-and-by, detached him from the Church, and made it possible for me also to leave the Mormon faith. Hitherto, for my children’s sake, I dared not leave the Church without my husband, and I therefore anxiously watched for anything which might rescue him from the bondage in which he was held.

As proprietor of a daily paper, his business had frequently called him to the Eastern States for several months at a time, and I observed that after those visits his editorials took a more liberal turn. My Mormon friends frequently said to me, “Brother Stenhouse is doing himself no good by his constant association with the Gentiles;” and subsequently, when he did apostatize, our secession from the Church was attributed to contaminating Gentile influences.

Then, too, we had frequent visits from strangers passing through Salt Lake City. I saw, with pleasure, that this intercourse with the outside world was gradually undermining my husband’s confidence in the teachings of the Elders, and it gave me courage to hope that, after all, the day of liberty might dawn at last. Feeling as I did thus, it will not surprise the reader that I regarded with more and more distrust the proposed marriage of my husband to Brother Brigham’s daughter; for I felt that then he would be deeper than ever in the toils of the Priesthood, and I sometimes almost believed that it was my duty to use every influence in my power to prevent it.

Putting my own feelings out of the question, it is probable that I might have done this simply for his own good; for I doubted not that some day the scales must fall from his eyes, and then he would be thankful that I had prevented the marriage. Our paths by this time had certainly diverged far asunder, and my husband had another wife and family; but I believed that he was sincere, though sadly mistaken, or I should not have felt so kindly towards him as I did.

At other times, and observing his devotion, I almost myself began to think that perhaps the nonsense that I had heard was, after all, true, and that this girl was the only one he had really loved; and, if so, of course he ought to marry her. In fact, so divided was my attention that I hardly knew what to think; I therefore resolved to act according to circumstances.