ir religion. Its erection had been enjoined
upon them as a most sacred duty: they were proud of the honor it
conferred upon their city, when it grew up in its splendor to become the
chief object of the admiration of strangers upon the upper Mississippi.
Besides, they had built it as a labor of love; they could count up to
half a million the value of their tithings and freewill offerings laid
upon it. Hardly a Mormon woman had not given up to it some trinket or
pin-money; the poorest Mormon man had at least served the tenth part of
his year on its walls; and the coarsest artisan could turn to it with
something of the ennobling attachment an artist has for his own
creation.

Therefore, though their enemies drove on them ruthlessly, they succeeded
in parrying the last sword-thrust, till they had completed even the
gilding of the angel and trumpet on the summit of its lofty spire. As a
closing work, they placed on the entablature of the front, like a
baptismal mark on the forehead, these words:

THE HOUSE OF THE LORD:

BUILT BY THE CHURCH OF JESUS CHRIST OF LATTER-DAY SAINTS.

HOLINESS TO THE LORD!

Then, at high noon, under the bright sunshine of May, the next after its
completion, they consecrated it to divine service. There was a carefully
studied ceremonial for the occasion. It was said the high elders of the
sect travelled furtively from the camp of Israel in the wilderness, and,
throwing off ingenious disguises, appeared in their own robes of office
to give it splendor.

For that one day the temple stood resplendent in all its typical glories
of sun, moon and stars, and other abounding figured and lettered signs,
hieroglyphs, and symbols; but that day only. The sacred rites of
consecration ended, the work of removing the _sacrosancta_ proceeded
with the rapidity of magic. It went on through the night, and when the
morning of the next day dawned all the ornaments and furniture,
everything that could provoke a sneer, had been carried off; and except
some fixtures that would not bear removal, the building was dismantled.

This day saw the departure of the last of the elders, and the largest
band that moved in one company together. The people of Iowa have told me
that from morning to night they passed westward like an endless
procession. They did not seem greatly out of heart, they said; but, at
the top of every hill, before they disappeared, they were to be seen
looking back, like banished Moors, on their a