The Wasatch Literary Association

Improvement Era Vol. XXVIII SEPTEMBER, 1925 No. 1 1 THE WASATCH LITERARY ASSOCIATION By Orson F. Whitney At Salt Lake City, in the month of February, 1874, the society was organized whose name gives caption to this article. It was not the first of its kind to have "a local habitation and a name," but it was one of the most notable in the entire list of such organizations that have sprung up in Utah since Salt Lake Valley was settled. It had a brilliant, if comparatively brief, career, and rallied to its standard many of the most promising young men and young women of the community. Some of its members, in subsequent years, rose to great prominence either in Church or in State. A list of those connected with the Wasatch Literary Association would include such names as these: Heber J. Grant, President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; Rudger Clawson, Presi- dent of the Twelve Apostles; Rulon S. Wells, of the First Council of the Seventy; Heber M. Wells, first Governor of the State of Utah; Richard W. Young, brigadier-general in the United States Army; Horace G. Whitney, manager and dramatic and lyric editor of the Deseret News; Major William W. Woods, lawyer and magistrate; Harry Emery, actor and manager; John T. Caine, Jr., of the faculty of the Utah Agricultural College; H. L. A. Culmer, artist and first president of the Salt Lake Rotary Club; John B. Read, editor of the Butte Miner; Robert W. Sloan, journalist and broker; Laron Cum- mings, chief teller of the Deseret National Bank; Don Carlos Young, architect; Brigham S. Young, president of the Northwestern States mission; Dr. Stanley H. Clawson, dentist; Frank D. Kimball, John Home and James X. Ferguson, all well known business men. On the feminine side would be found Martha Home Tingey president of the General Board, Y. L. M. I. A.; Mary Jones Clawson, club woman and member of the Mormon Battalion Monument Com- mission; Miss Emma Wells, Mrs. Melvina W. Woods, Emily Wells Grant, May Wells Whitney, Miss Emmeline Wells, Mrs. Nat. Brigham, Entered at the Post Office, Salt Lake City, Utah, as second class matter. Acceptance for mailing at special rate of postage provided for in Section 1103, Act of October 3, 1917, authorized on July 2, 1918, $2 per annum. Address Room 40 6, Church Office Building, Salt Lake City, Utah.

1018 IMPROVEMENT ERA Miss Kate Wells, Annette Wells Culmer, Keetie Heywood Kimball, Miss Rett Young, Miss Aggie Sharp, Cornelia Home Clayton, Min- nie Home James, Mary Ferguson Keith, Josephine Beatie Wells, Libbie Beatie Wells, Ellen Richardson, Alibo Young, Birdie Clawson, Edna Clawson Tibbitts and Arabella Clayton. All were not enrolled at once, but the Wasatch quickly became popular, and ere many days these and others became members. The entire membership of the society was limited to fifty persons. Among those who affiliated with the Wasatch, frequently attending its meet- ings, but not having their names upon the roll, were Professor Joseph B. Toronto, of the University of Utah; Will Sharp, president of the Utah Fuel Company; Charles S. Burton, cashier of the Utah State National Bank; J. Willard Clawson, noted portrait painter; B. Bick- nell Young, vocalist; William C Dunbar, Jr., Renz Young, and others whose names do not now occur to mind. There may be a few slight inaccuracies in these listings, as I am dependent upon memory, and not upon documents, for my statement of facts; the old roll book and minute book being lost. But allowing for the possibility of transpositions, in one or two instances, crediting non-members with membership, and vice versa, the above showing may be regarded as practically correct. A number of the foregoing names, members and non-members of the Wasatch, belonged also to the Zeta Gramma Debating Society, an adjunct of the University of Deseret, owing its existence to Dr. John R. Park, then President of the University, who organized it among his students late in the sixties or early in the seventies. The debating society ran parallel with the literary association for several years. The object of the Wasatch Literary Association was partly indicated by its title. It had its inception in a desire on the part of those who founded it to improve themselves and each other along literary lines. What led to the organization — though it did not fully suggest what was coming — was a remark made by "Jim" Ferguson, then connected in a clerical way with the Utah Legislature. He and '.'Rule" Wells, another of "the boys," who was also a clerk in the Legislature, were walking up Main Street one day, when they and the writer of this sketch chanced to meet. A conversation ensued, in the course of which Ferguson said: "Ort, why don't you organize a reading clasb,' among the boys and girls?" I have always suspected that Jim had an ax to grind in making this suggestion. Being enamored of one of "the girls," he had, as I suspect, hit upon a plan for improving, not only his mind, but his chances in her direction, thinking it would give him more of her com- pany than he was then getting. His dissertation on the benefits to be derived from a "reading class" was both eloquent and convincing. He had heard, no doubt, of fond couples "reading life's meaning in each others eyes," and that was the kind of reading that most interested him.

THE WASATCH LITERARY CLUB 1019 Rule warmly seconded Jim's suggestion, and Ort said, "I'll think it over." To be perfectly frank, he and Rule, with others of "the crowd," were in the same box with Ferguson on the girl question. Forthwith the author of this article proceeded to the home of Mrs. Emmeline B. Wells ("Aunt Em") on State Street, and there consulted with her daughters "Mel" and "Em," both of whom, like their honored and illustrious mater, were enthusiastic lovers of litera- ture. The result of the consultation was a decision to organize — not a reading class, but something on a larger scale, namely a literary association, in which music should have its place. Among the suggestions as to its character and conduct was one offered by Major Woods, who was then paying court to the elder of the two sisters, and was therefore a frequent visitor at the Wells home on State Street. He mentioned a society to which he once belonged, that had as one of its features, a "budget box," wherein members would place all sorts of pieces, written or printed, original or selected, anonymous or otherwise, and they would be read to the society at its next meeting, by some member previously appointed for that purpose. Essays, recitations and other exercises made up the remainder of the program, which always ended with the reading of the budget box. Major Woods' idea was acted upon, as soon as the Wasatch was organized, the budget box becoming a staple feature of its weekly program. The Major, who was a member of the Utah Bar, joined the new society at its very beginning, but did not long remain with it, a change of residence to Idaho, where he became prominent in judicial circles, following an early severance of his relations with the Wasatch. He did not favor that name for a literary organization, preferring something more classic; but the local patriotism of a majority of the members bore down all opposition, and "Wasatch Literary Association" was triumphantly flung to the breeze. At the first meeting of the society Orson F. Whitney was elected president, and Emma Wells secretary; in recognition, no doubt, of the very active part played by them in working up the scheme and persuad- ing others to join. There was also a treasurer, elected for the same period — four weeks, if I remember aright. The reader of the budget box was appointed weekly in advance by the president; so also was the critic, whose strictures were relied upon to offset the facetiae of the budget box, and tone down the risibilities of fun-loving members who evinced at times a disposition to sacrifice everything for a laugh. The program committee was appointed monthly. A constitution and by- laws were framed and adopted, and the Wasatch Literary Association started out upon its interesting career. Meetings were held every Wednesday evening, in private homes, any member being privileged to invite the society to thus assemble. On special occasions light refreshments were served at the close. The

1020 IMPROVEMENT ERA running expenses of the association were met by monthly dues and by fines imposed for failure to respond to the requirements of the pro- gram, or for other infractions of the rules. The imposition of fines was one of the functions of the president. Now and then the pro- ceeds of a ball or an excursion would supply necessary funds. The Wasatch programs were frequently of a very ambitious and meritorious character, and correspondingly interesting and enjoyable. Visitors were often present upon the invitation of members, and were generally delighted with what they saw and heard. Lectures, read- ings and recitations were given; musical pieces, vocal and instrumental, rendered; original poems and prose articles read, and scenes from Shakespeare and other dramatic authors presented. Among the Shakespearean delineations were acts or dialogues from Hamlet, Othello, Julius Caesar, Richard III, King John, and the Mer- chant of Venice. The principal parts were taken by Keetie Heywood (Mrs. F. D. Kimball), Mamie Jones (Mrs. S. H. Clawson), Harry Emery, Harry Culmer, Laron Cummings, Heber M. Wells, John T. Caine Jr., and myself. Whole plays were performed at times, and on such occasions the old Social Hall — now a memory — was used for the presentation. "Robert Macaire was played there in the summer of 1876, as a benefit tendered to me by my fellow Wasatchites, prior to my intended de- parture for the East, to begin a dramatic career — a project postponed indefinitely by a call to the mission field in the following October. I well remember the critic's stern arraignment of certain members whose ill-timed merriment had marred a Shakespearean dialogue — that between the villainous Iago and the too credulous, jealous Moor. The critic was John T. Caine, Jr., the Lord Chatham of the society. Arising in parliamentary dignity, and wrapping his toga about him (figuratively speaking) he said: "You who have laughed at these gentlemen and their commendable efforts to entertain us this evening, have applauded worse acting upon the boards of the Salt Lake Theatre." The givers of the dialogue — Harry Emery and the writer — fully agreed with this able and lucid statement of the case. Usually a blast like that would suffice to sober up those who needed the correction; but if it failed, a fine of fifty cents or more would be imposed upon the offender. One of the irrepressibles essayed a dialogue himself, assisted by a girl friend. She was "Pauline," and he "Claude Melnotte," in Bulwer's romantic melodrama, "The Lady of Lyons." He became "dead-letter perfect" in his part, but somehow his acting caused no thrill. The budget box, after complimenting him for always committing his lines so well, plowed into him thus: Now Claude was well committed, too, And doubly done — ay, this is true; You first commit the part, to prove it, And then commit the murder of it.

THE WASATCH LITERARY CLUB 1021 Humorous skits of all kinds found their way into the budget box, and much amusement — not to say amazement — often resulted from their exploitation. Occasionally an original play was presented, in which local char- acters in or out of the society were satirized by impersonation. I recall one in which a certain individual, who had no love for the Wasatch, was represented as being haled before the bar of the District Court, to answer a charge of chasing "with malice prepense" a neigh- bor's chickens, for morning and evening exercise. The defendant denied chasing the chickens with "a mallet prepense," maintaining that "it was a stick with a nail in the end of it." The objection was overruled — Rule Wells was on the bench — and the culprit was sentenced to death. Again the critic, this time a girl — Emma Wells — unsheathed the rapier of rebuke. She scored the authors and performers of the sketch in a way to make them feel like a Mexican dollar with seventy cents deducted. Em had no sympathy with this burlesque on "our friends." The crowning feature of the program was the budget box. Wit and wisdom, satire and sentiment, mingled with the sharpest per- sonalities. Too often tender feelings were lacerated by some thought- less though clever jibe, intended to be innocently funny, but in effect almost cruel. The doom of the Wasatch was foreshadowed by the personalities of the budget box, long before a penchant for frivolous pleasure-seeking began to show itself, superseding in many all ambition for higher things, and paving the way for the inevitable collapse. The budget box, however, had better things than quips and quirks with which to regale its patrons. Some of the sketches, by such writers as Horace G. Whitney, Heber M. Wells, and John B. Read — wits of the first water — rivaled Goldsmith, Dickens and Mark Twain. This is positively no exaggeration, and it constituted one of the main reasons for the society's popularity. There was very little religion in the Wasatch Association, aside from what lurked in the hearts of the members, nearly all of them scions of well-known "Mormon" families, and as good and clean a lot of boys and girls as the sun ever shone upon. Many of them were spiritually-minded, though not demonstrative. They would have welcomed the introduction of religious observances in the proceedings, but for the opposition of their associates. The membership was of a mixed character, religious and non-religious, but never anti-religious in tone. Persons, not principles, were the targets of ridicule. It was once proposed that the meetings be opened and closed with prayer, but the proposition met with so little favor that it was never put to a vote. Consequently prayer was left out. One of the members was a little Englishman who drifted into the community from "Lord-knows- where," and as mysteriously drifted

1022 IMPROVEMENT ERA out again. He was well educated, claimed to be an Oxford graduate, and was rather eccentric in speech and action. "Yes, thanks," "No, thanks," was the usual form in which he answered questions put to him. While convalescing from an illness, he was asked by an ac- quaintance how he felt. "Worse, thanks," was the dolefully polite though somewhat ambiguous response. Of course, we all had a good opinion of ourselves, and some of us spoke well of our neighbors. "Heeb" Wells thought Harry Emery "the finest young actor on the American stage." Reminded of this many years later, Heeb stood aghast and exclaimed: "Did I say that?" A volume could tell no more. The fact is, Harry was not much of an actor, but he played the flute like a motor cycle, and was an all- round good fellow, much liked for his genial and jolly nature. He was a good swimmer, too. "He swam the Eske River" — no, come to think, it was Young Lochinvar who did that. Harry swam the Great Salt Lake, from Black Rock House to Black Rock, in a storm, and returned in triumph, the admiration of the girls and the envy of the boys, two of whom, in attempting to accompany him to the Rock, had all but shared the fate of Leander, being ignominiously beaten back and half strangled by the boisterous, briny, blinding billows. I was one of the victims, and the little Englishman was the other. Barring a slight loss of prestige, we were none the "worse, thanks," for what we had passed through. Apropos of excursions, they were to such places as Black Rock, Wells' Farm, City Creek Canyon and other near-by points. In- evitably the Wasatch wits had their say regarding these very pleasant outings, humorous descriptions of which were duly deposited in that "Lion's Mouth" — the budget box. One cool evening in autumn "the crowd" went down to Calder's Park — since Wandemere — sincer Nibley Park. Boating was indulged in, and one of the boats, accidently capsizing, threw Miss Mary Jones into the water. She was helped out with some difficulty, and dripping and shivering was hurried to a bowery close by, where the other girls busied themselves covering her with wraps, taking off her wet stockings, and putting on dry ones obtained at a neighboring house. Meanwhile, "till Mary did appear," the boys "waited patiently about" — about like "Mary's little lamb." As she sat there like patience on the Mormon Battalion Monument, her teeth chattering with the cold, "Bud" Whitney approached sympathetically: "What can we do for you, Mame — would you like some ice cream?" he naively inquired. Her reply was an Arctic glance that "froze the genial current of his soul." Many readers will remember the terrific explosion of powder magazines on Arsenal Hill, not far from the present Capitol grounds, late in the afternoon of Wednesday, April 5th, 1876. The whole city was shaken and terrified. But the Wasatch met that very night

THE WASATCH LITERARY CLUB 1023 according to appointment, and the wide-awake budget box teemed with incidents relating to the explosion. As the love of pleasure grew, and the society became more and more dominated by that spirit — to the extent that a proposed sleigh- ride or other sportive attraction would cause a premature adjournment, leaving the program stranded high and dry — those who had become members for the improvement of their minds began to withdraw. Thus, little by little, the Wasatch, like the Roman empire, abandoning its early ideals, went to pieces. Its entire career covered only about four years, but it made a brilliant record, one that cannot be con- sistently ignored when Utah's literary history is compiled. Even in dying, the Wasatch Association seemed to exert a virile influence. Phoenix-like from its ashes, or its insurance, arose two of the most notable of our artistic organizations, whose fame went beyond the borders of the State, and whose achievements delighted for years the local public. I refer to the Home Dramatic Club, organized in 1880, most of whose members were former Wasatchites; and the Salt Lake Opera Company, managed, as was the Dramatic Club, by "Bud" Whitney (Horace G.), the "Gax" of the budget box, and later known from the Pacific to the Atlantic as one of the best dramatic critics in the land. As for Heeb Wells, the Bill Nye of the Wasatch, the "Yorick" of the budget box, he shone as a character comedian, and could have become famous as such the world over, had he continued to cultivate his histrionic gift and devote himself to the drama. But he chose to turn his versatile talents in another direction, and halted not in his upward career until he became the chief executive of his native State. It but remains to say that his present-day newspaper correspondence is a perennial delight to his many readers. I grow sentimental — but why not? How can I help it, even if I would, when dreaming reminiscently of the dear old boys and yet young girls of yesterday? I have but to shut my eyes, and I can see Lena Fobes (Mrs. Junius F. Wells) manipulating with magic touch the ivory keys to the dulcet strains of "Poet and Peasant" (with whistling obligato) or some other equally entrancing overture. I hear again that tripping, skipping little idyl, "Fawn-footed Nannie," so sweetly sung by the Home girls, Mattie and Corneel. And last, but not most, "Stan" Clawson, scraping from his violin, as only he could scrape, the liquid notes of "The Crystal Schottische" — But here I shut my ears, as well as my eyes, and the beauteous vision dissolves. I have always thought, and am not alone in so thinking, that the anxiety felt and expressed by leading Church-men over the non- religious spirit in the Wasatch, the Zeta Gamma, and other societies of like character formed throughout Utah, influenced in some degree the origin of the Mutual Improvement Association, which drew to itself

1024 IMPROVEMENT ERA so many of the old-time members of the earlier organizations, and whose glorious Jubilee has been so splendidly, so magnificently celebrated. What more natural than that President Brigham Young, some of whose children were connected with the Wasatch and the Zeta Gamma, should have shared in this anxiety, and, noting the pronounced worldly tendencies in these and other organizations antedat- ing the M. I. A^, yet recognizing also the good that was in them, the success achieved by them, and the need represented or suggested by them, was divinely impelled to provide something better and more permanent for the benefit of the youth of Zion? Hence the rise of this efficient auxiliary, this potent help to the Priesthood in the govern- ment of the Church. Such a view in no wise detracts from the glory of the Mutual Improvement cause, the heaven-born inspiration for which, as we all recognize, rested upon President Young, the founder of the now mighty organization. Nor does it diminish in the least the credit due to those who, acting under his inspired direction, laid the foundations of the towering structure. Great things are often caused by small things. A little stone on the mountain side, displaced even by accident, can start the all-whelm- ing avalanche. More than one divine revelation has been called forth by some human incident, completely buried out of sight by what followed. "Honor to whom honor is due" — not forgetting the pioneer societies that went before the M. I. A., preparing its way, and not excepting one of the most talented, most capable, and most successful of them all — the Wasatch Literary Association. The Clerical Sense A tourist came from Jupiter The two who came from Jupiter To view our little earth. Wrote each of many a thing. Astonished at the things he saw One, truth to please the people, He noted all their worth; One, just to please the king: And then, as you may well infer. And both affirmed, for wise they were He soon returned to Jupiter, Among the wise of Jupiter — And wrote a book, And held each book A little book A truthful book, About our little earth. The truth in everything. The king, who ruled at Jupiter, And from these books all Jupiter A rival envoy sent, Took sides in a review: To see if what the first one wrote Was one book right, 'tis logical Was truthful in intent: The other wasn't true: To tell, forsooth, what folk we were And as these men could not concur, He soon returned to Jupiter, The clergymen of Jupiter And wrote a book. Have written books A little book — And written books He had to, being sent. To prove each point of view. Joseph Longking Townsend.