comically wretched we ever heard. The lad
who came in with the elderly men tried every range of voice in every
verse, and thought that he had a right to do just as he liked with
the music; the elderly men near him hammed out something in a weak
and time-worn key; the woman got into a high strain and flourished
considerably at the line ends; the little girl said nothing; the
three young men seemed quite unable to get above a monotonous groan,
and the general looked forward, then down, and then smiled a little,
but uttered never a word, and seemed immensely relieved when the
singing was over. The bread which had been broken into the soup
plate was next handed round, and it was succeeded by the pewter pot
measure of water. This was the sacrament, and it was partaken of by
all--the young as well as the old. During the enactment of this part
of the programme a gaily-dressed young female, sporting a Paisley
shawl, ear-rings, a chignon, a small bonnet, and the other
accoutrements of modern fashion, dropped in, and also took the
sacrament. Another hymn was here given out, and the young woman with
the Paisley shawl, &c., rushed straight into the work of singing
without a moment's warning. She carried the others with her, and
enabled them to get through the verses easily. Just when the singing
was ended, a rubicund-featured and bosky female, who had, perhaps,
seen five-and-forty summers, landed in the room, took a seat, and
then took the sacrament. She was the last of the Mohicans, and after
her appearance the door was closed, and the latch dropped.

Speaking succeeded, and the talkers got upon their feet in
accordance with certain nods and memoes from the chairman. They all
eulogised in a joyous strain the glories of Mormonism, but never a
syllable was expressed about wives. A young moustached man led the
way. He told the meeting that he had long been of a religious turn
of mind; that he was a Wesleyan until 17 years of age; that
afterwards he found peace in the Smithsonian church; that the only
true creed was that of Mormonism; that it didn't matter what people
said in condemnation of such creed; and that he should always stick
to it. The thin woman, who seemed to have an awful tongue in her
head, was the second speaker. She panegyrised "the church" in a
phrensied, fierce-tempered, piping strain, talked rapidly about the
"new dispensation," declared that she had accepted it voluntarily,
hadn't been deceived by any one--we hop