officers, grade by grade, the Seventies, the Bishops,
the Angels, the Apostles, up to the tripartite headship of three
Presidents, the first of which was Elder Woodruff, venerable, simple,
and wise in appearance. Back of all was the great organ, and a
well-trained choir of three hundred singers.

I heard a number of speeches or sermons, all offhand, and some of them
rambling, but the aside excursions were usually on practical matters,
or to emphasize the fact that the Latter-Day Saints were the salt of
the earth, the power to lead this nation upward from its bloodshed and
wrong-doing; and hints were also given, here and there, that God would
yet avenge the blood of the prophet slain at Nauvoo.

The most striking speech was that made by Mr. Cannon. He looked like a
well-set-up New York business man, faultlessly dressed in an Albert
frock coat, with rubicund countenance and flowing mutton-chop whiskers.
It was absolutely refreshing to hear him, in his clear-cut sentences,
declare that he was then and there speaking under the direct
inspiration of the Holy Ghost. The President, Elder Woodruff, at the
conclusion of the meeting, gave his sanction to all that was said, thus
sealing it as inspired, by his declaration.

A superb anthem by Gounod then floated out over that vast audience, as
all remained seated, taking in the power of the music at their ease. At
its close Elder Woodruff rose, and all rose with him. With a trembling
voice he blessed all in the triune name of God, and the whole assembly
scattered in a few moments through the surrounding doors of the
Tabernacle.

The Eisteddfod of our Welsh citizens was in full blast in Salt Lake at
the same time, and at night I attended the concluding concert. It was
an enthusiastic occasion. There were strangers from points quite
distant, and the place was packed. The acoustic qualities of the
Tabernacle gave wonderful power to both organ and voices, and the
effect of the whole was very fine.

While I was scanning the audience and choir with my opera-glass, one of
the ushers asked me if he might look through it. Of course he could.
But I noticed that he kept pretty steadily to one point in the choir.
On remarking that fact to him, he laughed and said, "Yes, I was looking
at my best girl; there she is, near the centre, dressed in heliotrope
crepe." I looked, too, and saw a remarkably pretty young woman. He
further told me that he was a Mormon, and so was his sweetheart; that