It seemed hardly in accordance with the energy and devotedness of a new faith that a hole in the ground should represent the House of the Lord, while Mr. Brigham Young, the Prophet, thinking of his own comfort before the glory of God, is lodged, like Solomon of old, in what here appears a palace. Nor, reflecting that without a Temple the dead can not be baptized out of Purgatory, was I quite satisfied when reminded of the fate of Nauvoo (according to Gentiles the Mormons believe that they must build nine temples before they will be suffered to worship in peace), and informed that the purely provisional works, which had been interrupted by the arrival of the army in 1858, would shortly be improved.

The lines of THE TEMPLE BLOCK.Temple Block—which, as usual, is ten acres square = forty rods each way—run toward the cardinal points. It stands clear of all other buildings, and the locust-trees, especially those on the sunny south side, which have now been planted seven years, will greatly add to its beauties. It is surrounded with a foundation wall of handsomely dressed red sandstone, raised to the height of ten feet by adobe stuccoed over to resemble a richer material. Each facing has thirty flat pilastres, without pedestal or entablature, but protected, as the adobe always should be, by a sandstone coping. When finished, the whole will be surmounted by an ornamental iron fence. There are four gates, one to each side—of these, two, the northern and western, are temporarily blocked up with dry stone walls, while the others are left open—which in time will become carriage entrances, with two side ways for foot passengers. According to accounts, the wall and the foundations have already cost one million of dollars, or a larger sum than that spent upon the entire Nauvoo Temple.

Temple Block—the only place of public and general worship in the city—was consecrated and a Tabernacle was erected in September, 1847, immediately after the celebrated exodus from “Egypt on the banks of the Mississippi,” on a spot revealed by the past to the present Prophet and his adherents. Two sides of the wall having been completed, ground was broken on the 14th of February, 1853, for the foundation of the building. One part of the ceremony consisted of planting a post at the central point, the main “stake for the curtains of Zion:” every successive step in advance was commemorated by imposing ceremonies, salvos of guns, bands playing, crowds attending, addresses by the governor, Mr. Brigham Young, prayers and pious exercises. The foundations of the Temple, which are sixteen feet deep, and composed of hard gray granite, in color like that of Aberdeen or Quincy, are now concealed from view; and the lumber huts erected for the workmen were, when the Mormons made their minor Hegira to Provo City, removed to the Sugar-house Ward, three miles southeast of the city.

The Temple Block is at present a mere waste. A central excavation, which resembles a large oblong grave, is said by Gentiles to be the beginning of a baptismal font twenty feet deep. The southwestern corner is occupied by the Tabernacle, an adobe building 126 feet long from N. to S., and 64 wide from E. to W.: its interior, ceilinged with an elliptical arch—the width being its span—can accommodate 2000-3000 souls. It urgently requires enlarging. Over the entrances at the gable ends, which open to the N. and S., is a wood-work representing the sun, with his usual coiffure of yellow beams, like a Somali’s wig, or the symbol of the Persian empire. The roof is of shingles: it shelters under its projecting eaves a whole colony of swallows, and there are four chimneys—a number insufficient for warmth at one season, or for ventilation at the other. The speaker or preacher stands on the west side of the building, which is reserved for the three highest dignities, viz., the First Presidency, the “Twelve” (Apostles), and the President of the State of Zion: distinguished strangers are also admitted. Of late, as in the old Quaker meeting-houses at Philadelphia, the brethren in the Tabernacle have been separated from the “sistern,” who sit on the side opposite the preacher’s left; and, according to Gentiles, it is proposed to separate the Christians from the Faithful, that the “goats” may no longer mingle with the sheep.

Immediately north of the Tabernacle is the Bowery—in early spring a canopy of green leafy branches, which are left to wither with the year, supported on wooden posts. The interior will be described when we attend the house of worship next Sunday.

In the extreme northwest angle of the block is the Endowment, here pronounced On-dewment House, separated from the Tabernacle by a high wooden paling. The building, of which I made a pen and ink sketch from the west, is of adobe, with a pent roof and four windows, one blocked up: the central and higher portion is flanked by two wings, smaller erections of the same shape. The Endowment House is the place of great medicine, and all appertaining to it is carefully concealed from Gentile eyes and ears: the result is that human sacrifices are said to be performed within its walls. Mrs. Smith and Mr. Hyde have described the mysterious rites performed within these humble walls, but, for reasons given before, there is reason to doubt the truth of their descriptions; such orgies as they describe could not coexist with the respectability which is the law of the land. M. Remy has detailed the programme with all the exactitude of an eye-witness, which he was not. The public declare that the ceremonies consist of some show, which in the Middle Ages would be called a comedy or mystery—possibly Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained—and connect it with the working of a mason’s lodge. The respectable Judge Phelps, because supposed to take the place of the Father of Sin when tempting Adam and Eve, is popularly known as “the Devil.” The two small wings are said to contain fonts for the two sexes, where baptism by total immersion is performed. According to Gentiles, the ceremony occupies eleven or twelve hours. The neophyte, after bathing, is anointed with oil, and dressed in clean white cotton garments, cap and shirt, of which the latter is rarely removed—Dr. Richards saved his life at the Carthage massacre by wearing it—and a small square masonic apron, with worked or painted fig-leaves: he receives a new name and a distinguishing grip, and is bound to secrecy by dreadful oaths. Moreover, it is said that, as in all such societies, there are several successive degrees, all of which are not laid open to initiation till the Temple shall be finished. But—as every mason knows—the “red-hot poker” and other ideas concerning masonic institutions have prevailed when juster disclosures have been rejected. Similarly in the Mormonic mystery, it is highly probable that, in consequence of the conscientious reserve of the people upon a subject which it would be indelicate to broach, the veriest fancies have taken the deepest root.

The other features of the inclosure are a well near the Tabernacle, an arched sewer in the western wall for drainage, and at the eastern entrance a small habitation for concierge and guards. THE FUTURE TEMPLE.The future Temple was designed by an Anglo-Mormon architect, Mr. Truman O. Angell. The plan is described at full length in the Latter-Day Saints’ “Millennial Star,” December 2, 1854, and drawings, apparently copied from the original in the historian’s office, have been published at Liverpool, besides the small sketches in the works of Mr. Hyde and M. Remy. It is hardly worth while here to trouble the general reader with a lengthy description of a huge and complicated pile, a syncretism of Greek and Roman, Gothic and Moorish, not revealed like that of Nauvoo, but planned by man, which will probably never be completed. It has been transferred to the Appendix (No. II.), for the benefit of students: after briefly saying that the whole is symbolical, and that it is intended to dazzle, by its ineffable majesty, the beholder’s sight, I will repeat the architect’s concluding words, which are somewhat in the style of Parr’s Life Pills advertisements: “For other particulars, wait till the house is done, then come and see it.”

After dining with the governor, we sat under the stoop enjoying, as we might in India, the cool of the evening. Several visitors dropped in, among them Mr. and Mrs. Stenhouse.MR. STENHOUSE. He—Elder T. B. H. Stenhouse—is a Scotchman by birth, and has passed through the usual stages of neophyte (larva), missionary (pupa), and elder or fully-developed Saint (imago). Madame was from Jersey, spoke excellent French, talked English without nasalization or cantalenation, and showed a highly cultivated mind. She had traveled with her husband on a propagandist tour to Switzerland and Italy, where, as president of the missions for three years, he was a “diligent and faithful laborer in the great work of the last dispensation.” He became a Saint in 1846, at the age of 21; lived the usual life of poverty and privation, founded the Southampton Conference, converted a lawyer among other great achievements, and propagated the Faith successfully in Scotland as in England. The conversation turned—somehow in Great Salt Lake City it generally does—upon polygamy, or rather plurality, which here is the polite word, and for the first time I heard that phase of the family tie sensibly, nay, learnedly advocated on religious grounds by fair lips. Mr. Stenhouse kindly offered to accompany me on the morrow, as the first hand-cart train was expected to enter, and to point out what might be interesting. I saw Elder and High-Priest Stenhouse almost every day during my stay at Great Salt Lake City, and found in his society both pleasure and profit. We of course avoided those mysterious points, into which, as an outsider, I had no right to enter; the elder was communicative enough upon all others, and freely gave me leave to use his information. The reader, however, will kindly bear in mind that, being a strict Mormon, Mr. Stenhouse could enlighten me only upon one side of the subject; his statements were therefore carefully referred to the “other part;” moreover, as he could never see any but the perfections of his system, the blame of having pointed out what I deem its imperfections is not to be charged upon him. His power of faith struck me much. I had once asked him what became of the Mormon Tables of the Law, the Golden Plates which, according to the Gentiles, were removed by an angel after they had done their work. He replied that he knew not; that his belief was independent of all such accidents; that Mormonism is and must be true to the exclusion of all other systems. I saw before me an instance how the brain or mind of man can, by mere force of habit and application, imbue itself with any idea.

Long after dark I walked home alone. There were no lamps in any but Main Street, yet the city is as safe as at St. James’s Square, London. There are perhaps not more than twenty-five or thirty constables or policemen in the whole place, under their captain, a Scotchman, Mr. Sharp, “by name as well as nature so;” and the guard on public works is merely nominal. Its excellent order must be referred to the perfect system of private police, resulting from the constitution of Mormon society, which in this point resembles the caste system of Hindooism. There is no secret from the head of the Church and State; every thing, from the highest to the lowest detail of private and public life, must be brought to the ear and submitted to the judgment of the father-confessor-in-chief. Gentiles often declare that the Prophet is acquainted with their every word half an hour after it is spoken; and from certain indices, into which I hardly need enter, my opinion is that, allowing something for exaggeration, they are not very far wrong. In London and Paris the foreigner is subjected, though perhaps he may not know it, to the same surveillance, and till lately his letters were liable to be opened at the Post-office. We can not, then, wonder that at Great Salt Lake City, a stranger, before proving himself at the least to be harmless, should begin by being an object of suspicion.

On Monday, as the sun was sloping toward the east, Mr. Stenhouse called to let me know that the train had already issued from Emigration Kanyon; no time to spare. We set out together “down town” at once. Near the angle of Main Street I was shown the place where a short time before my arrival a curious murderA MURDER. was committed. Two men, named Johnston and Brown, mauvais sujets, who had notoriously been guilty of forgery and horse-stealing, were sauntering home one fine evening, when both fell with a bullet to each, accurately placed under the heart-arm. The bodies were carried to the court-house, which is here the morgue or dead-house, to be exposed, as is the custom, for a time: the citizens, when asked if they suspected who did the deed, invariably replied, with a philosophical sangfroid, that, in the first place, they didn’t know, and, secondly, that they didn’t care. Of course the Gentiles hinted that life had been taken by “counsel”—that is to say, by the secret orders of Mr. Brigham Young and his Vehm. But, even had such been the case—of course it was the merest suspicion—such a process would not have been very repugnant to that wild huntress, the Themis of the Rocky Mountains. In a place where, among much that is honest and respectable, there are notable exceptions, this wild, unflinching, and unerring justice, secret and sudden, is the rod of iron which protects the good. SAFETY OF THE CITY.During my residence at the Mormon City not a single murder was, to the best of my belief, committed: the three days which I spent at Christian Carson City witnessed three. Moreover, from the Mississippi to Great Salt Lake City, I noticed that the crimes were for the most part of violence, openly and unskillfully committed; the arsenic, strychnine, and other dastardly poisonings of Europe are apparently unknown, although they might be used easily and efficiently with scant chance of detection. That white emigrants have sometimes wiped off the Indian, as the English settler settled with corrosive sublimate the hapless denizen of the great Southern Continent, is scarcely to be doubted; at the same time, it must be owned that they have rarely tried that form of assassination upon one another.

As we issued from the city, we saw the smoke-like column which announced that the emigrants were crossing the bench-land; and people were hurrying from all sides to greet and to get news of friends. Presently the carts came. All the new arrivals were in clean clothes, the men washed and shaved, and the girls, who were singing hymns, habited in Sunday dresses. The company was sunburned, but looked well and thoroughly happy, and few, except the very young and the very old, who suffer most on such journeys, troubled the wains. They marched through clouds of dust over the sandy road leading up the eastern portion of the town, accompanied by crowds, some on foot, others on horseback, and a few in traps and other “locomotive doin’s,” sulkies, and buckboards. A few youths of rather a rowdyish appearance were mounted in all the tawdriness of Western trappings—Rocky Mountain hats, tall and broad, or steeple-crowned felts, covering their scalp-locks, embroidered buckskin garments, huge leggins, with caterpillar or millepede fringes, red or rainbow-colored flannel shirts, gigantic spurs, bright-hilted pistols, and queer-sheathed knives stuck in red sashes with gracefully depending ends. The jeunesse dorée of the Valley Tan was easily distinguished from imported goods by the perfect ease with which they sat and managed their animals. Around me were all manner of familiar faces—heavy English mechanics, discharged soldiers, clerks, and agricultural laborers, a few German students, farmers, husbandmen, and peasants from Scandinavia and Switzerland, and correspondents and editors, bishops, apostles, and other dignitaries from the Eastern States. When the train reached the public square—at Great Salt Lake City the “squares” are hollow as in England, not solid as in the States—of the 8th ward, the wagons were ranged in line for the final ceremony. Before the invasion of the army the First President made a point of honoring the entrance of hand-cart trains (but these only) by a greeting in person. Of late he seldom leaves his house except for the Tabernacle: when inclined for a picnic, the day and the hour are kept secret. It is said that Mr. Brigham Young, despite his powerful will and high moral courage, does not show the remarkable personal intrepidity of Mr. Joseph Smith: his followers deny this, but it rests on the best and fairest Gentile evidence. He has guards at his gates, and he never appears in public unattended by friends and followers, who are of course armed. That such a mental anomaly often exists, those familiar with the biographies of the Brahmin officials at the courts of Poonah, Sattara, and other places in India, well know: many a “Pant,” whose reckless audacity in intrigue conducted under imminent danger of life argued the courage of a Cœur de Lion, was personally fearful as Hobbes, and displayed at the death the terrors of Robespierre. A moment of fear is recounted of St. Peter; Erasmus was not the stuff of which martyrs are made, and even the beau sabreur once ran. However, in the case of the Prophet there is an absolute necessity for precautions: as Gentiles have themselves owned to me, many a ruffian, if he found an opportunity, would, from pure love of notoriety, even without stronger incentive, try his revolver or his bowie-knife upon the “Big Mormon.”

On this occasion the place of Mr. Brigham Young was taken by President Bishop Hunter, a Pennsylvanian, whom even the most fanatic and intentionally evil-speaking anti-Mormon must regard with respect. Preceded by a brass band—“this people” delight in

and accompanied by the City Marshal, he stood up in his conveyance, and, calling up the Captains of Companies, shook hands with them and proceeded forthwith to business. In a short time arrangements were made to house and employ all who required work, whether men or women. Having read certain offensive accounts about “girl-hunting elders,” “gray-headed gallants,” and “ogling apostles,” I was somewhat surprised to see that every thing was conducted with the greatest decorum. The Gentiles, however, declare that Mr. Brigham Young and the high dignitaries have issued an order against “pre-emption” on the part of their followers, who escort and accompany the emigrant trains across the prairies.

Mr. Stenhouse circulated freely among the crowd, and introduced me to many whose names I do not remember; in almost every case the introduction was followed by some invitation. He now exchanged a word with this “brother,” then a few sentences with that “sister,” carefully suppressing the Mr. and Madam of the Eastern States. The fraternal address gives a patriarchal and somewhat Oriental flavor to Mormon converse; like other things, however, it is apt to run into extremes. SAINTS’ NAMES.If a boy in the streets be asked, “What’s your name?” he will reply—if he condescends to do so—“I’m brother such-and-such’s son.” In order to distinguish children of different mothers, it is usual to prefix the maternal to the paternal parent’s name, suppressing the given or Christian name of monogamic lands. Thus, for instance, my sons by Miss Brown, Miss Jones, and Miss Robinson, would call themselves Brother Brown Burton, Brother Jones Burton, and so on. The Saints—even the highest dignitaries—wave the Reverend and the ridiculous Esquire; that “title much in use among vulgar people,” which in Old and New England applies to every body, gentle or simple, has not yet extended to Great Salt Lake City. The Mormon pontiff and the eminences around him are simply Brother or Mister—they have the substance, and they disdain the shadow of power. En revanche, among the crowd there are as many colonels and majors—about ten being the proportion to one captain—as in the days when Mrs. Trollope set the Mississippi on fire. Sister is applied to women of all ages, thus avoiding the difficulty of addressing a dowager, as in the Eastern States, Madam, in contradistinction to Mrs., her daughter-in-law, or, what is worse, of calling her after the English way, old Mrs. A., or, Scotticè, Mrs. A. senior.

The dress of the fair sex has, I observed, already become peculiar. The article called in Cornwall a “gowk,”A “GOWK.” in other parts of England a “cottage bonnet,” and in the United States a “sun-bonnet,” is here universally used, with the difference, however, that the Mormons provide it with a long thick veil behind, which acts like a cape or shawl. A loose jacket and a petticoat, mostly of calico or of some inexpensive stuff, compose the tout visible. The wealthier affect silks, especially black. The merchants are careful to keep on hand a large stock of fancy goods, millinery, and other feminine adornments. Love of dress is no accident in the mental organization of that sex which some one called ζωον φιλοκοσμον; the essential is a pleasing foible, in which the semi-nude savage and the crinolined “civilizee,” the nun and Quakeress, the sinner and the saint, the biche, the petite maîtresse, and the grande dame, all meet for once in their lives pretty much on a par, and on the same ground. Great Salt Lake City contains three “millinery stores,” besides thirteen of dry goods and two of fancy goods, or varieties; and some exchange their merchandise for grain.

The contrast of physique between the new arrivals and the older colonists, especially those born in the vicinity of the prairies, was salient. While the fresh importations were of that solid and sometimes clumsy form and dimensions that characterize the English at home—where “beauty is seldom found in cottages or workshops, even when no real hardships are suffered”—the others had much of the delicacy of figure and complexion which distinguishes the American women of the United States. Physiologists may perhaps doubt so rapid and perceptible an operation of climate, but India proves clearly enough that a very few years suffice to deteriorate form and color, especially in the weaker half of humanity; why, then, should we think it impossible that a climate of extremes, an air of exceeding purity and tenuity, and an arid position 4000 feet above sea level, can produce the opposite results in as short a space of time? But, whether my theory stand or fall, the fact remains the same. I remarked to my companion the change from the lymphatic and the sanguine to the bilious-nervous and the purely nervous temperament, and admired its results, the fining down of redundancy in wrist, ankle, and waist, the superior placidness and thoughtfulness of expression, and the general appearance of higher caste blood. I could not but observe in those born hereabouts the noble regular features, the lofty, thoughtful brow, the clear, transparent complexion, the long silky hair, and, greatest charm of all, the soft smile of the American woman when she does smile. He appeared surprised, and said that most other Gentiles had explained the thinness of form and reflective look by the perpetual fretting of the fair under the starveling régime of polygamy. The belle of the crowd was Miss Sally A——, the daughter of a lawyer, and of course a ci devant judge. Strict Mormons, however, rather wag the head at this pretty person; she is supposed to prefer Gentile and heathenish society, and it is whispered against her that she has actually vowed never to marry a Saint.

I “queried” of my companion how the new arrivals usually behave at Great Salt Lake City, when the civilization, or rather the humanization of a voyage, a long journey, and the sense of helplessness caused by new position, have somewhat mitigated their British bounce and self-esteem. “Pretty well,” he replied; “all expect to be at the top of the tree at once, and they find themselves in the wrong box; no man gets on here by pushing; he begins at the lowest seat; a new hand is not trusted; he is first sent on mission, then married, and then allowed to rise higher if he shows himself useful.” This bore a cachet of truth:

(L’Ane et la Flûte.)

Many of these English emigrants have passed over the plains without knowing that they are in the United States, and look upon Mr. Brigham Young much as Roman Catholics of the last generation regarded the Pope. The Welsh, Danes, and Swedes have been seen on the transit to throw away their blankets and warm clothing, from a conviction that a gay summer reigns throughout the year in Zion. The mismanagement of the inexperienced travelers has become a matter of Joe Miller. AN ILLUSTRATION.An old but favorite illustration, told from the Mississippi to California, is this: A man rides up to a standing wagon, and seeing a wretched-looking lad nursing a starving baby, asks him what the matter may be: “Wal, now,” responds the youth, “guess I’m kinder streakt—ole dad’s drunk, ole marm’s in hy-sterics, brother Jim be playing poker with two gamblers, sister Sal’s down yonder a’ courtin’ with an in-tire stranger, this ’ere baby’s got the diaree, the team’s clean guv out, the wagon’s broke down, it’s twenty miles to the next water, I don’t care a —— if I never see Californy.”

We returned homeward by the States Road, in which are two of the principal buildings. On the left is the Council Hall of the Seventies, an adobe tenement of the usual barn shape, fifty feet long by thirty internally, used for the various purposes of deliberation, preaching, and dancing; I looked through the windows, and saw that it was hung with red. It is a provisional building, used until a larger can be erected. A little beyond the Seventies’ Hall, and on the other side of the road, was the Social Hall, the usual scene of Mormon festivities; it resembled the former, but it was larger—73 × 33 feet—and better furnished. The gay season had not arrived; I lost, therefore, an opportunity of seeing the beauty and fashion of Great Salt Lake City in ballroom toilette, but I heard enough to convince me that the Saints, though grave and unjovial, are a highly sociable people. THEATRICALS.They delight in sleighing and in private theatricals, and boast of some good amateur actors, among whom Messrs. B. Snow, H. B. Clawson, and W. C. Dunbar are particularly mentioned. Sir E. L. Bulwer will perhaps be pleased to hear that the “Lady of Lyons” excited more furore here than even in Europe. It is intended, as soon as funds can be collected, to build a theatre which will vie with those of the Old Country. Dancing seems to be considered an edifying exercise. The Prophet dances, the Apostles dance, the Bishops dance. A professor of this branch of the fine arts would thrive in Zion, where the most learned of pedagogues would require to eke out a living after the fashion of one Aristocles, surnamed the “broad-shouldered.” The saltation is not in the languid, done-up style that polite Europe affects; as in the days of our grandparents, “positions” are maintained, steps are elaborately executed, and a somewhat severe muscular exercise is the result. I confess to a prejudice against dancing after the certain, which we are told is the uncertain, epoch of life, and have often joined in the merriment excited among French folks by the aspect of some bald-headed and stiff-jointed “Anglais” mingling crabbed age with joyful youth in a public ball. Yet there is high authority for perseverance in the practice: David danced, we are told, with all his might, and Scipio, according to Seneca, was wont thus to exercise his heroic limbs.

Besides the grand fêtes at the Social Hall and other subscription establishments, there are “Ward Parties,” and “Elders’ Weekly Cotillon Parties,” where possibly the seniors dance together, as the Oxford dons did drill—in private. Polkas, as at the court of St. James’s, are disapproved of. It is generally asserted that to the New Faith Terpsichore owes a fresh form of worship, the Mormon cotillon—alias quadrille—in which the cavalier leads out, characteristically, two dames. May I not be allowed to recommend the importation of this decided improvement into Leamington and other watering-places, where the proportion of the sexes at “hops” rarely exceeds one to seven?

The balls at the Social Hall are highly select, and are conducted on an expensive scale; invitations are issued on embossed bordered and gilt-edged white paper, say to 75-80 of the élite, including a few of the chief Gentiles. The ticket is in this form and style:

The $10 tickets will admit only one lady with the gentleman; for all extra $2 each must be paid. In the less splendid fêtes $2 50 would be the total price. Premiums are offered when the time draws nigh, but space is limited, and many a Jacob is shorn of his glory by appearing with only Rachel for a follower, and without his train of Leahs, Zilpahs, and Billahs.

An account of the last ball may be abridged. The hall was tastefully and elegantly decorated; the affecting motto, “Our Mountain Home,” conspicuously placed among hangings and evergreens, was highly effective. At 4 P.M. the Prophet and ex-President entered, and “order was called.” (N.B.—Might not this be tried to a purpose in a London ball-room?) Ascending a kind of platform, with uplifted hands he blessed those present. Farther East I have heard of the reverse being done, especially by the maître du logis. He then descended to the boards and led off the first cotillon. THE SUPPER.At 8 P.M. supper was announced; covers for 250 persons had been laid by Mr. Candland, “mine host” of “The Globe.” On the following page will be found the list of the somewhat substantial goodies that formed the carte.

It will be observed that the cuisine in Utah Territory has some novelties, such as bear and beaver. The former meat is a favorite throughout the West, especially when the animal is fresh from feeding; after hibernation it is hard and lean. In the Himalayas many a sportsman, after mastering an artificial aversion to eat bear’s grease, has enjoyed a grill of “cuffy.” The paws, which not a little resemble the human hand, are excellent—experto crede. I can not pronounce ex cathedrâ upon beavers’ tails; there is no reason, however, why they should be inferior to the appendage of a Cape sheep. “Slaw”—according to my informants—is synonymous with sauer-kraut. Mountain, Pioneer, and Snowballs are unknown to me, except by their names, which are certainly patriotic, if not descriptive.

DANCING.After supper dancing was resumed with spirit, and in its intervals popular songs and duets were performed by the best musicians. The “finest party of the season” ended as it began, with prayer and benediction, at 5 A.M.—thirteen successive mortal hours—it shows a solid power of enduring enjoyments! And, probably, the revelers wended their way home chanting some kind of national hymn like this, to the tune of the “Ole Kentucky shore:”

Returning to the hotel, we found the justiciary and the official party safely arrived; they had been delayed three days at Foot of Ridge Station, but they could not complain of the pace at which they came in. The judge was already in confab with a Pennsylvanian compatriot, Colonel S. C. Stambaugh, of the Militia, Surveyor General of Utah Territory. This gentleman is no great favorite with the Saints: they accuse him of a too great skillfulness in “mixing”—cocktails, for instance—and a degree of general joviality that swears (qui jure) with the grave and reverend seigniory around him. His crime, it appears to me, chiefly consists in holding a fat appointment. I need hardly say that at Great Salt Lake City party feeling rises higher, perhaps, than in any other small place, because RELIGIOUS ACRIMONY.religious acrimony is superadded to the many conflicting interests. Every man’s concerns are his neighbor’s; no one, apparently, ever heard of that person who “became immensely rich”—to quote an Americanism—by “minding his own business.” As often happens, religion is made, like slavery in the Eastern States and opium in China, the cheval de bataille; the root of the quarrel must be sought deeper; in other words, interest, and interest only, is the Tisiphone that shakes the brand of war. As Mormonism grows, its frame becomes more strongly knit. Thus the Gentile merchants, who have made from 120 to 600 per cent. on capital, were, at the time of my visit, preparing to sell off, because they found the combination against them overpowering. For the most part they vowed that there is no people with whom they would rather do business than with the Mormons; praised their honesty and punctuality in payments, and compared them advantageously in such matters with those of the older faith. Yet they had resolved to remove. The total number of Gentiles in the city is probably not more than 300, a small proportion to a body of at least 9000.

A stranger, especially an official, is kindly warned, on his first arrival at Great Salt Lake City, of its inveterate cliquism,CLIQUISM. and is amicably advised to steer a middle course, without turning to the right or to the left, between the Scylla and Charybdis of Christianity and Mormonism. This mezzo-termine may be possible in official matters; in society it is not. I soon saw that, though a traveler on the wing might sit alternately in the tents of Shem and Japhet, a resident would soon be obliged to dwell exclusively in either one or the other. When Gentile and Mormon meet, they either maintain a studied or surly silence, or they enter into a dialogue which, on a closer acquaintance with its formation, proves to be a conglomerate of “rile” and “knagg”—an unpleasant predicament for those en tiers. Such, at least, was my short experience, and I believe that of my companions.

Colonel Stambaugh, a day or two after the introduction, offered to act cicerone through the settlement, and I was happy to accept his kindness. One fine evening we drove along the Tooele Road westward, and drank of the waters of the New Jordan, which, to the unregenerate palate, tasted, I must say, somewhat brackish and ill-flavored. The river is at this season about one hundred feet broad, and not too deep below its banks to be useless for irrigation, which, as the city increases, will doubtless be extended. It is spanned by a wooden bridge so rickety that it shakes with a child’s tread—the governor has urgently but unavailingly represented the necessity of reconstruction. But, although the true Western, or rather Keltic recklessness of human life—which contrasts so strongly with the sanctity attached to it by the old Roman and the modern Anglo-Scandinavian—here still displays itself, in some points there is no disregard for improvement. Mr. Brigham Young has seen the evils of disforesting the land, and the want of plantations; he has lately contracted for planting, near Jordan and elsewhere, a million of young trees at the rate of one cent each. On the way we saw several fine Durhams and Devons, which are driven out every morning and back every evening under the charge of a boy, who receives one and a half cent per mensem a head. The animals have been brought across the prairies at great trouble and expense: stock-breeding is one of the Prophet’s useful hobbies, and the difference between the cattle in Utah Territory and the old Spanish herds still seen in the country parts of California is remarkable. The land, as will presently appear, is better calculated for grazing than for agriculture, and a settlement of 500 souls rarely has less than 500 head of cattle.

Returning from Jordan, we re-entered the city by the western road, and drove through Mr. Brigham Young’s block toward the Northern Kanyon. The gateway was surmounted by a plaster group, consisting of a huge vulturine eagle, perched, with wings outspread, neck bended as if snuffing the breeze of carrion from afar, and talons clinging upon a yellow bee-hive—a most uncomfortable and unnatural position for the poor animal. The device is doubtless highly symbolical, emblematical, typical—in fact, every thing but appropriate and commonsensical. The same, however, may be said of one of the most picturesque ensigns in the civilized world—what have stars to do with stripes or stripes with stars? It might be the device of the British or Austrian soldier—only in their case, unlike the flag of the United States, the stripes should be many and the stars few. En passant we remarked a kind of guard-room at the eastern doorway of the White House—a presidential title which the house of prophecy in New Zion shares with the house of politication[130] at Washington: my informants hinted that, in case of an assault upon head-quarters by roughs, marshals, or other officials, fifty rifles could at once be brought to bear upon the spot, and 1000 after the first hour. On the eastern side of the compound were the stables; a lamb in effigy surmounted the entrance, and meekly reposed under the humane injunction, “Take care of your flocks.” Beyond this point lay a number of decrepit emigrant wagons, drawn up to form a fence, a young plantation of fruitless peaches, and the remnants of the falling wall.

We then struck into “City,” usually known as “Brigham’s” Kanyon,BRIGHAM’S KANYON. the Prophet having a saw-mill upon the upper course. It is the normal deep narrow gorge, with a beautiful little stream, which is drawn off by raised water-courses at different altitudes to supply the settlement. The banks are margined with dwarf oaks and willows; limestone, sandstone, and granite, all of fine building quality, lie scattered about in profusion, while high above rise the acclivities of the gash, thinly sprinkled with sage and sunflower. Artemisia in this part improves like the population in appearance, nor is it always a sign of sterility; in parts wheat grows well where the shrub has been uprooted. The road along the little torrent was excellent; it would have cost $100,000 in Pennsylvania, but here much is done by tithe-work; moreover, the respect for the Prophet is such that men would rather work for him on credit than take pay from others.

Being in want of local literature, after vainly ransacking the few book-stalls which the city contains, I went to the Public Library,UTAH LIBRARY. and, by sending in a card, at once obtained admission. As usual in the Territories of the United States, this institution is supported by the federal government, which, besides $1500 for books, gave $5000 for the establishment, and $400 from the treasury of Utah is paid to the Territorial librarian, Mr. John Lyon, who is also a poet. The management is under the Secretary of the Territory, and the public desire to see an extra grant of $500 per annum.[131] The volumes, about 1000 in number, are placed in a large room on the north side of the “Mountaineer” office, and the librarian attends every Thursday, when books are “loaned” to numerous applicants. The works are principally those of reference, elementary, and intended for the general reader, such as travels, popular histories, and novels. The “Woman in White” had already found her way across the prairies, and she received the honors and admiration which she deserved.

On the evening of the 30th of August, after dining with the governor, I accompanied him to the Thermal Springs, one of the lions of the place. We struck into the north road, and soon issued from the town. On the right hand we passed a large tumble-down tenement which has seen many vicissitudes. It began life as a bath-house and bathing-place, to which the white sulphury waters of the Warm Springs,[132] issuing from below Ensign Peak, were brought in pine-log pipes. It contained also a ballroom, two parlors for clubs and supper-parties, and a double kitchen. It afterward became a hotel and public house for emigrants to California and Oregon. These, however, soon learned to prefer more central quarters, and now it has subsided into a tannery of low degree. About two and a half miles beyond the northern suburb are the Hot Springs,[133] which issue from the western slope of the hills lying behind Ensign Peak. A generous supply of water, gushing from the rock into a basin below, drains off and forms a lakelet, varying according to season from one to three miles in circumference. Where the water first issues it will boil an egg; a little below it raises the mercury to 128° F. Even at a distance from the source it preserves some heat, and, accordingly, it is frequented throughout the winter by flights of water-fowl and camping Indians, whose children sit in it to thaw their half-frozen limbs. These springs, together with the fresh-water lake and the Jordan, are held to be more purifying than Abana and Pharphar, rivers of Damascus; and, being of the HarrowgateHARROWGATE WATERS. species, they will doubtless be useful to the Valley people as soon as increased luxury requires such appliances. When the wind sets in from the north, the decided perfume of sulphureted hydrogen and saleratus is any thing but eau de Cologne. An anti-Mormon writer, describing these springs and other evidences of igneous and volcanic action, dwells with complacency upon the probability that at some no distant time New Zion may find herself in a quandary, and—like the Cities of the Plain, to which she is thus insinuatingly compared—fuel for the flames. On our way home the governor pointed out the remains of building and other works upon a model farm, which had scarcely fared better than that of Niger celebrity. The land around is hoar with salt, and bears nothing but salsolæ and similar hopeless vegetation.