On the following Sabbath Captain Van Arden attended divine service, and he was not as surprised as he would have been a week ago, to hear and see the calm, mighty courage which animated every face and spoke in every voice. Here was a handful of wronged and hunted religionists, whose only crime was in desiring to serve God in a way peculiar to themselves. He had walked the streets at darkest midnight, and not once had he seen or heard one word of drunkenness, ribaldry or obscenity. He had failed to find any traces of licentiousness, such as the ugly rumors he had heard before coming here, had led him to expect. Instead, he felt himself surrounded by an implacable circle of watchful care, which prevented him from entering into any relations with women, even the harmless one of mild flirtation with the pretty brown-haired girl he had met at Bishop Winthrop's home. Certainly he had received some enlarged ideas on the subject of religious persecution. He listened attentively to Apostle John Taylor, who, at the close of his remarks, repeated the statement he had heard before, that the army should not be allowed to enter the Valley; and then, in ringing tones, the preacher asked all who would apply the torch to their dwellings, cut down their trees and lay waste their farms, to raise their hands. The captain rose in his seat to see the effect of this powerful appeal. Not one hand in that vast assembly of four thousand people, was left to rest in cowardly silence in its owner's lap; but like a unit, the clouds of hands arose. Some horny and worn with toil and poverty; others, soft and white with youth and womanhood; and even little children in their eager, unconscious zeal, elevated their hands high in sympathy with their elders. The captain felt awed and overcome. Up in his throat rose a lump of sympathy and admiration for this heroic people. He expected to find a seditious and priest-ridden community, mouth-valiant and few in number, whom the mere appearance of troops would tame into submission. He found instead, a handful of enthusiasts rising against the might of a great nation. When President Young arose to speak the Captain felt a genuine response in his own breast to the vigorous and manly sentiments uttered by the "Mormon" leader: "When the time comes to lay waste our dwellings and our improvements, if any man undertakes to shield his, he will be treated as a traitor. Now, the faint-hearted can go in peace, but should that time come, they must not interfere. Before we will again suffer as we have in times gone by, there shall not one building, nor one foot of lumber, nor a fence, nor a tree, nor a particle of grass or hay that will burn, be left in the reach of our enemies. I am sworn if driven to the last extremities, utterly to lay waste this land in the name of Israel's God, and our enemies shall find it as barren as when we came here."