Maiden Voyages by Mary Morris Page B

elaborate bathing costumes. It is almost impossible to sink in the very clear salt water of this evaporating pan, which deposits salt and sulphur round its shores. The Great Salt Lake, more than 100 miles in length (like the Dead Sea on a large scale), has no outlet for the waters of the three rivers which flow into it; during the last twenty years it is said to have risen twelve feet, and to be rising steadily; yet, judging from the raised beaches, which can be distinctly traced high up on the sides of the surrounding hills, the lake must at one time have been an inland sea. No trees or vegetation, but picturesque islands, and distant mountain ranges, and wonderfully-coloured rocks in the foreground make a striking picture; but we certainly do not agree with Humboldt that “here the beauty of Como and Killarney are combined.” A Gentile lady passenger gave us a very unfavourable account of Mormons and their ways: “Guess they treat their women and children just like beasts; there’s one of them—the old sinner!” she said, pointing to a farmer driving up a waggon, laden with his womankind,to the station. Two rather depressed-looking wives, ugly middle-aged women in poke bonnets, holding unlovely babies, sat in the back, while the new young wife, with her baby in smart hat and feathers, occupied the front seat with their lord and master; not a pleasant or poetical domestic picture; and they were all so ugly!
    The sad conviction is growing upon us since leaving Japan, the land of loveliness, that the British lower classes, from which Mormonism largely draws its converts, though in the main a hardworking and religiously-minded people, are entirely devoid of all perception of the beautiful in Life, Art, or Religion.…
    This morning, accompanied by a friendly literary lady from Boston, we drove through some miles of amazing fertility, rich crops of Indian corn and wheat (the practical Mormons do not grow many flowers) created by industry and irrigation, till we drew up at the convict prison. Capital punishment is rarely enforced in America; hence in flagrant cases of murder the mob take the law into their own hands, and “lynch” the murderer on the spot. It seemed a misdirection of energy that about ten murderers should be taking unprofitable exercise round the prison yard, under the eye of an officer with loaded revolver, while the land beyond their gaol was lying barren for want of cultivation, waiting for human skill to turn it into the garden we had just passed through. Then we drove on to the Church farm—hundreds of acres of crops, representing the temporalities of the Mormon “Establishment”; part of the proceeds will go to build the grand new temple, whose cutstone pillars and walls are slowly rising beside the old “Tabernacle.” Some of the Saints are very rich. “That ere old woman who lives in that ranche,” said our driver, pointing to a tiny wooden hut, “owns the land my stables is on; I offered her most any money for it, and she declined; then I concluded to marry her right off” (he is a Gentile), “and she declined. Can’t come round them nohow,” he added with a sigh, and drove us off to Fort Douglas, where a garrison of United States troops overlook Zion, and keep the Saints in order. These are the first soldiers we have seen in America. It is remarkable how little show of force is required to keep the peace in this country. The few policemen in San Francisco looked more like Methodist preachers in long frock-coats and wide-brimmed hats than officers of justice.
    Hard by was the grave of a Gentile who, rumour says, was finally put out of the way by Brigham Young. Beyond, a lovely view over the fertile country dotted with villages, and far away the mountains and shining lake. A little later we passed Brigham Young’s private residence, surrounded by the hencoop-like houses in which we were told his various wives were lodged, and, further on, the grand “villa residence” built for his