Vilate Kimball, the first wife of Heber C. Kimball, later the righthand-man and clown of King Brigham, and one of the most disgusting types of Mormon history—Vilate was a good, pure woman, she was better than her 'religion,' though a slave to it in a manner. She loved her husband, and he, not yet developed as the brute he later became, loved her, hence a reluctance to comply with the Lord's demand that Vilate should be consecrated like the moveable prop- erty of the other 'Apostles.' Still, Joseph was to them a prophet, and therefore the act might be right in him, though simply damnable in any other man. They thought the command of the Lord must be obeyed in some way, and a ' proxy ' way suggested itself to their minds. They had a young daughter only getting out of girlhood, and the father apologizing to the prophet for his wife's reluct- ance to comply with his desires, stating, however, that the act must be right or it would not be counselled—the abject slave of a father asked Joe if his daughter wouldn't do as well as his wife. Joe replied that she would do just as well, and the Lord would accept her instead. The half-ripe bud of womanhood was delivered over to the prophet. Helen Mar Whitney—this is her name now—still lives and belongs to that undefinable class of wrinkled old women, only to be found in Mormonism, who pride themselves in their shame, in speeches and in print. She writes pamphlets on the divinity of polygamy ! Other 'plurals' do the same. It is the saddest, the most disheartening kind of literature I have ever seen in any country. It makes me do desperate things. It makes me prefer the worst of mother-in-laws to such 'ladies,' and gives me a wonderfully favorable idea of the odalisques of those old bearded Turks —they are pretty and they don't write, you see.