A Peculiar Custom of a Peculiar People

A PECULIAR CUSTOM OF A PECULIAR PEOPLE.* BY DON
C. W. MUSSER. Before starting to read this article, 0 reader, hear my con- fession. I am a "Mormon." I was born in what you facetiously term the City of the Saints, and was raised in the very shadow of the great temple. Since early childhood, I have attended divine service in that most unique and original structure, the tabernacle, and ray ears have long b«en attuned to the inspiring harmonies that roll forth from its great organ and choir of half a thousand voices. It has been my fortune to travel as a missionary of the "Mormon" faith in Europe, Asia and Africa; and now that I have given you my antecedents, you will no doubt concede that I am in a position to know something of Utah's history, and of the inner life of her people, who, no matter what you think of their faith, found Utah a desert, bleak and barren, and converted it into smil- ing gardens. I propo-e to tell you of a custom of my people, which I feel sure you will commend. It is in reference to their method of mis- sionary work which is accomplishing more good for the "Mormons" as a church, and the world in general, than anything else I know of. In Germany every man who is physically able, becomes a trained soldier. None are exempt from this requirement of the nation; rich and poor alike must, upon attaining the proper age, enlist for a certain /umber of years, during whicn time they are trained physically and mentally in the art of warfare.
As a con- * This article was written for the San Francisco Examiner. It was rejected on account of its having, as that journal's editor said, too much religion. — M.

296 IMPROVEMENT ERA sequence of this training, Germany is a nation of soldiers, than whom there are none more perfectly drilled and capable in the world. In Utah nearly every male member of the "Mormon" Church, either has been, is, or is preparing to be, a missionary to various parts of our Union, or to foreign lands; and as this has been the case since the Church was first founded, Utah is a state of travel-, eis than whom, taken as a whole, there are none brighter or of more varied experience in any other state of double its population in the world. Unlike the soldiers of Germany, the missionaries of Utah go without any compulsion and without any salary. They go of their own free will, without purse or scrip, as Paul and Peter and John did, trusting in Him who marks the sparrow's fall, and who clothes the lily, to provide the means and the way. Our Church has no salaried officials nor paid clergy, but every member thereof, male or female, feels more or less that the great respon- sibility of carrying on the work, to them grander and of more im- portance than anything else can be, rests upon their individual and collective shoulders; and in consequence of this united feeling, the Church is enabled to keep about fifteen hundred men in the mis- sionary field. For the most part these missionaries are boys between the ages of twenty and thirty, and they have been called from all the various walks of life. When they are at home, they may be found in the city marts buying and selling in the ordinary way; they may be found at the carpenter's bench or at the blacksmith's forge; in the office, the bank and counting house; on the farm, in the mine, on the frontiers blazing the path for future civilization, and mak- ing homes for themselves and children. They may »e found in the pub- lic schools, in the universities and colleges, teaching others and pur- suing the higher branches of education; in short, they c m be found in every honorable profession and trade and calling, for in- dustry, like faith and repentance, is their eternal battle cry. When the call comes, and it does cume some time in the early life of nearly every male member of the Church, everything else is dropped; business affairs are settled up, and if he is a married man, and is going to a part of the field where he will be so un- settled that he can't have his wife with him, he makes the neces- sary provisions for her to remain at home, and in due course of

A PECULIAR CUSTOM OF A PECULIAR PEOPLE.
297 time, he reports at headquarters to receive his parting instruc- tions, and to be set apart for the labor. Perhaps he has been called from the plow to this high and noble work, and he reports with face and neck bronzed with the sun and weather, and his callous hands horned with honest labor, and his hair cut a la milk-pail and his pants high water, but what of that? he is going to work for the Master who will not look so closely to his external appearance, as to his heart; and those badges of toil and rustic home-life are after all more to be proud of than otherwise. Peter and the sons of Zebedee wore them even while associating with the Master, and certainly they will not debar him from taking part in what he con- siders to be the same glorious work. With others, who will start about the same time, he receives his final instructions, which cover a wide range of subjects, and are calculated to guide him in his travels and labors while away from home. He is advised, while testifying to the divinity of ' Mor- monism," to never miss an opportunity of studying the grand and beautiful in everything that he comes in contact with. He is in- structed t study the people where he labors, their conditions and government, and to gather information from every source possi- ble, and that wherever he finds a truth or a virtue, to pick it up and wear it, for it is a pan of the great cause he is sent out to represent. Some night, shortly before the farmer boy leaves his green pastures and fields for his entirely new life, the village church, which, in small communities is the only hall available for any pur- pose, is the scene of the farewell ball or entertainment given in his honor. Startle not at the idea of having a ball in a church which has previously been set apart and dedicited to the worship of God, for I am sure if you could attend a genuine '"Mormon" dance, as they are sometimes called, you would go away with a softer spot in your heart, and a better feeling for that people you have so misunderstood in the past. They find nothing incompatible with their ideas of true religion, in the innocent pleasure of dancing. In fact, like God's people of ancient times, they find this one way of rejoicing together, and of giving vent to their feelings of gratitude for blessings daily received. In early times, while push- ing their handcarts across the plains, they frequently danced un-

298 IMPROVEMENT ERA. der the light of the moon and stars, and around their camp fires, because their hearts were so full of praise, words could not ex- press it, and they had to dance. And it has always been a cus- tom with them, to give their departing missionaries a farewell, the memory of which will keep them company and cheer their hearts throughout their entire absence from home and friends, and in no way can this end be better accomplished than in a dance. All the missionary's neighbors and friends come t his farewell party; the girls in their sweetest smiles and their newest dresses, and the boys trudging along with great basket-loads of good things to eat, for at about eleven o'clock the dancing will stop, and then supper and speeches and congratulations will be in order. Fathers and mothers are there, old veterans in the cause, some of them who have traveled much, perhaps girdled the earth in their mis- sio' ary labors, and the hours, — well there don't seem to be any hours, time flies so fast, and almost before the farmer boy knows it, his last two or three days at home are gone, and he is looking out of the car window, back at the fast receding forms of his dear ones; and for the first time he realizes that he is leaving all on earth that is dear, and is flying at the rate of thirty miles an hour, to a new world; a new condition of affairs, where every- thing will be a strange revelation to him. And as he goes on and on, hour after hour, and day after day, ever getting farther away from home, the most sublime spot on earth, he begins to realize the grave responsibilities that rest upon him, and every weak spot in his nature comes to the front to paralyze him if possible with the knowlege that of all people, he is one of the most unfit- ted for the position to which he has been called. Perhaps his destination is London, or Berlin, Honolulu, Sydney or Constantinople; it doesn't matter though, for he is as far from home in one place as another, and in any place he is a stranger in a strange land, with a message people not only don't care to hear, but one which he cannot deliver without being considered either a knave or a fool, by the great majority of people in whose midst he is. He knows that he is not educated nor polished, still he ex- pects to be called to stand before people who are, — perhaps min- inisters of the gospel, and who have made it a life study, — to give a reason for the hope within him.
And not only does he expect

A PECULIAR CUSTOM OF A PECULIAR PEOPLE.
299 such times to come, but true to his idea of missionary work, and the way it should be carried on, he does his utmost to bring these times about. He travels without money, and has no fixed habita- tion, but stops wherever he can find people whose hearts he can touch with his message of love, and he is not averse to turning his hand to any kind of work to assist his host or hostess while they listen to his teachings; but, on the contrary, he likes to do it. But what are the results? The farmer boy returns to his home in Utah, in two or three years, a man. He has gained an experience, an education which he never could have gained in any other way; he has rubbed up against a hard, rough world, until almost his last trace of rusticity has been worn awav, and he returns polished. He has learned to suffer, and that alone is worth three years of any man's time. He has learned what it is to be humbled, to have his egotism and self-love stamped upon by the feet of strangers; and that in itself is more wholesome than a legacy of gold. He has learned how really in- significant a man without money or friends is among strangers, and what is best of all, he has had from two to four years in which every thought was a prayer to heaven for light, to the end of bettering the human race. In his suffering, he has learned the potency of prayer, and consistency has required him to live a life upon which God and angels could smile. And now he returns home, a man of considerable travel and experience, one who has learned that his native state is but a speck on the big earth, and his own people but a very small part of the human family. He is one of many thousands; each year sees larger numbers of boys sent out, and men welcomed home, and each year the Church, membership is augmented by thousands of new converts.