brethren, and we feel that if relief does not soon appear, our community
will be scattered and the great work crushed. The Lord can rescue us,
but we must put forth our own efforts. Can you see any light?"

I replied that I had already been in Washington twice, on my own
initiative, conferring with some of his Congressional friends. "I am
still," I said, "of the opinion I expressed to you and President Taylor
four years ago. Plural marriage must be abandoned or our friends in
Washington will not defend us."

Four years before, when I had offered that opinion, President Taylor had
cried out: "No! Plural marriage is the will of God! It's apostasy to
question it!" And I paused now with the expectation that my father would
say something of this sort. But, as I was afterwards to observe, it was
part of his diplomacy, in conference, to pass the obvious opportunity of
replying, and to remain silent when he was expected to speak, so that he
might not be in the position of following the lead of his opponent's
argument, but rather, by waiting his own time, be able to direct the
conversation to his own purposes. He listened to me, silently, his eyes
fixed on my face.

"Senator Vest of Missouri," I went on, "has always been a strong
opponent of what he considered unconstitutional legislation against us,
but he tells me he'll no longer oppose proscription if we continue in an
attitude of defiance. He says you're putting yourselves beyond
assistance, by organized rebellion against the administration of the
statutes." And I continued with instances of others among his friends
who had spoken to the same purpose.

When I had done, he took what I had said with a gesture that at once