owing was a personal one: and consequently the
attack upon me chiefly took the form of stories of personal immorality,
privately circulated. These stories culminated in a motion before the
Woman's Republican Club, demanding my withdrawal from the Senatorial
contest on the ground of "gross misconduct"--a motion introduced by a
Mrs. Anna M. Bradley, a woman politician (who was a stranger to me),
with the assistance of Mrs. Arthur Brown, wife of the former Senator.

If I ever had any resentment against these unfortunate women for
allowing themselves to be used as the agents of slander, it passed
in the miseries that overtook them later; for Mrs. Brown died of the
scandal of her husband's intimacy with Mrs. Bradley, and Mrs. Bradley
shot and killed ex-Senator Brown, in a Washington hotel, because he
refused to marry her and recognize her child after her divorce from her
husband.

My anger then, and since, was not against the women, but against the
men who hid behind them--against Apostle Heber J. Grant and Apostle John
Henry Smith and their tool, ex-Senator Brown. In my anger I decided to
take an action that looked as desperate as it proved successful. I hired
the Salt Lake Theatre--for a night (February 9, 1899), and announced
that I would speak on "Senatorial Candidates and Pharisees"--intending
to use the opportunity of self-defense in order to attack the "financial
apostles" who were selling Church influence.

In taking that step I understood, of course, that it meant the death for
me of any political ambition in Utah. It meant offending my father, who
besought me not to raise my hand against "the Lord's anointed," but to
leave my enemies "to God's justice"--as he had always done with his. It
meant a breach with many of my friends in the Church who would blindly
resent my criticism of the political apostles as an encouragement to the
enemies of the faith. But the part that I had taken in helping Utah to
gain its statehood made it impossible for me to stand aside, now, and
see all our pledges broken, all our promises betrayed. I had to offer
myself as a sacrifice to hierarchical resentment in the hope that my
destruction might give at least a momentary pause to the reactionaries
in their career.

It is needless that I should relate all the incidents of that wild
night. The theatre was packed with people who joined me for the moment
in a sympathetic protest against the disgrace of Utah. President Lorenzo
Snow, his two