Some Impressions of Utah

Some Impressions of Utah. BY MILLER PURVIS. [The author is one of the most noted writers in the United States on poultry subjects. He lived formerly in the East, but recently has come to live in Idaho. He is in close touch with Prof. George M. Turpin, professor of poultry husbandry, of the State Agricultuarl College of Utah, and visited Logan in early October of this year. Just what kind of an impression Cache Valley and the college made on him is set forth in this little inspirational writing which he sends from his home in Idaho, to Prof. Turpin who has courteously, and through the kindness of President John A. Widtsoe, sent it to the Era for publication. It is a fair tribute to Utah and her people from one on the outside, and while we believe that many of our visitors feel just as Mr. Purvis does, few of their views ever get into print. It is therefore a great pleasure to give place in the The Era to Mr. Purvis' impressions of Utah. — Ed i tors. \ I have just visited Cache Valley. My visit to that beautiful country has convinced me more firmly than ever that the blood of martyrs is not shed in vain. I am not a Mormon but I am de- scended from those who were willing to give up kin and country because they believed in the inalienable right of every human be- ing to call upon his God in his own way. Two of my ancestors having come over in the Mayflower, another having fled from England to escape the "bloody assizes" of Judge Jeffries and an- other having come over with Roger Williams, the Quaker. As I stood on the roof of the Agricultural College buildings and looked across the wide, green valley the scene started a train of thought that kept running through my mind in spite of the things that occupied my attention while I was a visitor in the valley. It came to me then that it was true that the blood of martyrs is not spent in vain. My mind went back in history to that night in the jail at Carthage, Illinois, when Joseph Smith was foully murdered by fanatics of the same kind that hung some innocent Quaker maidens yonder in Salem, so long ago, because of their religion. I was impressed with the fact that if Nauvoo had re- mained the gathering place of the "Mormon" church, Cache Valley would yet be a waste, and its fertile soil would yet lie idle in the sun, yielding nothing that would advance the steps of the progress of the world. That magnificent Agricultural College would not have been built, those Stakes in Zion that dot the landscape would

62 IMPROVEMENT ERA not have been established, those wide fields, yellow with the stubble of a rich harvest, or green with the pasturage of cattle, would still be sage brush wastes, and silence would reign where now the busy- hum of industry makes the air vibrant with the music to which the world sets its step — the Anthem of Labor, that makes for advance. Beneath me was the mill, at which men grind that knowl- edge may increase, and that the young men and women who are not satisfied with the Things that Are, may come here to sit at the feet of Wisdom, that they may learn to bring about the day of Things that Should be. He who believes in God must believe in inspiration, else our ideas of God mean nothing. In every age men have been inspired to take steps that "Like ripples that at the sea-margin commence, Stir the world's currents a hundred years hence." Not in vain was that awful journey into the wilderness made; not in vain did men and women suffer hardships that can never be described, in their search for a place where they might rear their temples and worship their God in peace. One must lack all that devoutness means if he thinks that it was accident that brought those men and women to Salt Lake Valley and caused them to stop and say: "Here we rest." Lonely, remote, a desert surround- ed by barren mountains, it must have required the light of inspira- tion to cause men to decide that this was a good place to drive deep their stakes and try to build up homes. The first time I ever saw Utah we came down from the barren heights beyond Provo, in a driving snow storm. From the storm as we dropped down into the valley we came to sunshine and flowers Peaceful, prosperous homes and wide fertile farms. Then down the valley of the Jordon to that splendid city set in the valley, with its green trees and silvery streams along the streets, only to turn west at Ogden and enter once more the wasted country. It was long after this before I saw Cache Valley but it was worth wait- ing for. I begin to think that we read prophecy wrong. It is promised that to the elect shall come tribute from all nations. I am afraid we have a habit of thinking of this as a militant tribute, wrung from the unwilling hands of conquered peoples. As I looked across that valley I was told that the milk from the condensaries of Cache Valley goes to the ends of the earth, and it was impressed on me

SOME IMPRESSIONS OF UTAH 63 that the day of tribute-paying had come, but not in the militant way. It had come through the peaceful art of husbandry, willingly paid, because from this valley goes to the ends of the earth products that give people comfort and strength, and the glory of the Lord is brighter because of this bloodless fulfilment of the prophecies of old. I have always had considerable respect for my crude forefathers who braved the vicissitudes of pioneering on the rock-bound coasts of New England. Of course they knew nothing of the richer and more fertile country to the west, but if they had not had stout hearts and abiding faith, they would have heaved the anchor of the Mayflower and returned. So I feel a deep respect for those who left the fertile reaches of Illinois, and pushed across the rocky barrier that enclosed the valley which they came to call home and name "Deseret." They have bravely changed the meaning of that name. Once it signified barrenness, now it stands for all the mean- ing that can be got out of fertility and the riches that lie hidden in Mother Earth. I saw the big yielding cows, the heavy crops, the splendid fruits that Cache Valley produces; I saw the good men and the grand women, the young men and maidens who come up from every part of the state, and from other states, to learn how to make the land more productive and the home more pleasant, and I thought how good it was to have the privilege of living in these days. It also occurred to me that we do not properly appreciate the labors of the men who worked for a small wage to educate our young people. Every one of them is capable of going into the marts of trade and laying up treasure for himself, yet they willingly, gladly take up the labor of teaching that the world may be better. I hope the people of Utah look upon them as real missionaries doing God's work, as fully and as acceptably as they would if they were travel- ing in far lands seeking converts. As I have said, I am a "Gentile." I am afraid some of the "Gentiles" look upon me as a heretic, because I am willing to give every man the same privilege that I claim for myself, to call upon the Lord in my own way and fashion. I believe firmly in religion but not much in creeds. I am free to say that my respect for the "Mormons" whom I have met is as great as my respect for these of other creeds. It seems to me that they must have taken for their motto these words: