Ever since the Mormon pioneers entered the Salt Lake Valley in 1847, historians have been analyzing the leadership styles of Brigham Young. Stereotypically, the second president of the LDS Church is easily characterized as a rock-solid, practical, stern, authoritarian, even autocratic leader.

In recent years, scholars have tempered those views, pointing to a more balanced personality, one who had a human, tender side.In his highly respected biography, "Brigham Young: An American Moses," (NY: Alfred Knopf, 1985), Leonard J. Arrington, the dean of Mormon historians, characterized Young as "the supreme American paradox," who combined "the business genius of a Rockefeller with the spiritual sensitivities of an Emerson, the lusty enjoyment of the pleasures of good living with the tenderness of a Florence Nightingale."

Unfortunately, many Mormons have allowed Young's more colorful characteristics to elude them.

A number of Mormon scholars at Brigham Young University recently gathered to offer fresh insights on Young's personality, in a symposium sponsored by the Joseph Fielding Smith Institute of Church History. Among them was prolific historian Ron Walker, who insightfully analyzed Young as a dynamic 19th century preacher. Walker found that in his early years, Young suffered from melancholy, which today might have been called clinical depression.

But when he embraced the Mormon faith, he found an exciting cause: "I wanted to thunder and roar out the Gospel to the nations. I had to go out and preach, lest my bones should consume within me."

His first sermon, given without a text or notes, lasted more than an hour. Afterward, he said, "I opened my mouth, and the Lord filled it."

For the next 45 years, Young gave thousands of sermons, about 800 of which are documented. Walker says his preaching style was commanding, even though he was always working to overcome a deep-seated shyness.

Later in his life, Young said, "It is seldom that I rise before a congregation without feeling a childlike timidity; if I live to the age of Methusaleh, I do not know that I shall outgrow it."

Yet, he was indomitable before a congregation. On one occasion, he said the people needed sermons that were "like peals of thunder." He said, "I will tell you what this people need, with regard to preaching. You need, figuratively, to have it rain pitchforks, tines downwards."

He also used sarcasm. Once, he criticized women's fashions by saying that "some women's dresses might conceal a six-horse team, with a dozen dogs under the wagon."

Most Mormons, Walker says, very much enjoyed his allusions, his remarkable talents as a mimic, his gestures and his colorful language.

Although modern LDS leaders are often likely to warn the Saints not to attend R-rated movies, novels of the day gave Young heart-burn.

Richard Cracroft, a BYU English professor, has found numerous examples of Young's colorful warnings.

In an 1862 sermon, Young condemned all novels as "nonesense, trifling, arising from foolish fancy, vain imaginings and the spirit of lying that will subvert the readers until they do at last find themselves in hell."

Young maintained that "young people have cows to milk instead of novels to read." Then mocking the young women who often read novels, he said, "I do wish some villain would come and break into my room and steal me and carry me off! I so want to be stolen! . . . I want to be shipwrecked and go through some terrible scene so I can experience what this beloved lady has experienced whom I've been reading about."

In letters to his sons, he compared the reading of novels to swallowing poisonous herbs.

According to Donald Q. Cannon, of the Smith Institute, Young gave progressive instructions about his own burial. He wanted no mourning or crying at the funeral, and his "earthly house" enclosed in a redwood coffin, where he could "rest in peace and have a good sleep until the morning of the first resurrection."

On the other hand, he did not hesitate to cry openly at the death of those who were closest to him, such as Joseph Smith. Young said that more than five barrels of tears had been shed for Smith's loss.

In evaluating the biographies that Mormons have written about Young, James B. Allen, BYU professor emeritus of history, said they pictured him as "flawless," but they also offered important insights into "the fervor of Mormon conviction."

Allen also focused on the strengths and weaknesses of books written by non-Mormons, especially Morris Werner in 1925, and Stanley Hirshon in 1969. He found them disappointing.

It was not until 1985, said Allen, that "the biography to end all biographies of Brigham Young" was published - "Leonard Arrington's magnificent `Brigham Young: American Moses."'

In Allen's view, Arrington's book has all the necessary ingredients for good biography, including meticulous research and skilled writing. Arrington, said Allen, succeeded in getting the reader to feel "the personality, emotions, frustrations and general characteristics of the man he portrays."

Allen correctly noted that almost universally scholars have praised Arrington's book for its balance - his ability to treat both Young's strengths and foibles, without dwelling on the latter.

Arrington himself had the last word at the Brigham Young conference, and he chose to give a biography of his biography.

When Arrington became LDS Church Historian in 1972, he discovered numerous boxes of unsorted Brigham Young materials in the basement of the old church office building. It took seven years to organize and catalog this historical gold mine.

Arrington remembered: "The Brigham Young materials were wonderful! . . . They included four diaries in Brigham Young's own hand, 11 diaries dictated by him in the hands of his clerk, and the day-by-day record of all that went on in Brigham Young's administration."

There were also 29,000 letters, 300 ledgers from various companies Young started, telegram books, and diaries of Young's associates, all of which shed enormous light on Young's life and thought.

After assembling 300,000 pages of manuscript material, Arrington went to the LDS First Presidency with a proposal to publish a seven-volume biography of Young.

President Spencer W. Kimball, then LDS Church President, listened to him carefully, then looked at Arrington and said, "I want ONE volume on Brigham Young before I die, and I want YOU to write it."

Arrington was surprised, because he did not consider himself the church's best biographer, but he was not about to turn down the Mormon prophet, either.

Kimball was "emphatic in saying he wanted a book on Brigham Young that would be in every library in the United States. So he wanted a book the libraries would buy."

He suggested taking the finished manuscript to various historians, both Mormon and non-Mormon and seeking their corrections and suggestions. "When you finish with it," said President Kimball, "you will have something that will be worthy of purchase by the libraries."

Kimball also preferred the book be published by a prominent national press, rather than a church press, to ensure that it would have national appeal. When it was completed, Knopf accepted it for publication.

"This happened before President Kimball died," said Arrington, "and he was able to say he enjoyed the book and that he was very pleased that libraries were buying it."

From studying Young, Arrington said he had learned some important things about the man: First, the people loved Young because he "LISTENED to them. Not everyone who is a leader listens to other people. But Brigham Young did."

Second, Young was a remarkably tender person, who was so concerned about orphans that over his lifetime, he invited as many as 124 into his home to be a part of his family. He also paid tuition at the University of Deseret for "dozens and dozens of these orphans and other people who could not afford it."

Third, Young held unusual compassion for widows and women whose husbands were ill or disabled. Hundreds of his letters were written to bishops advising them to care for these women.

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Fourth, the stereotyped image of Young as a wealthy man is not correct. Because the U.S. government ruled in 1862 that the Church could not own property worth more han $50,000, almost all of the holdings that were listed in Young's name were actually the property of the Church.

As a result, the final settlement of Young's estate included not the exaggerated figure of $6 million, but a measley $220,000, which was distributed among his 21 families.

Finally, Arrington was impressed to find what a keen sense of humor Young exhibited. One example is a letter he wrote to Elizabeth Green, who had requested that her name be removed from church records. He answered her this way:

"Madam, I have this day examined the records of baptisms for the remission of sins in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and not being able to find the name of Elizabeth Green recorded therein, I was saved the necessity of erasing your name therefrom. You may, therefore, consider that your sins have not been remitted, and you may therefore enjoy the benefits therefrom."

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