Sunday, April 14th, in the morning, with Miss Alice Bishop, I visited the Cheltenham cemetery. Trees, flowers, green sward, and monuments erected to the memory of loved ones, all make it a pleasant place. We held meetings and administered the sacrament. This week I visited the Malvern hills, and preached in places, where thirty-seven years ago. President Brigham Young, and Wilford Woodruff bore their testimonies and reaped a rich harvest of souls as recompense for their faithful, loving labors. A lady of wealth, baptized by Elder Woodruff in 1840, died recently in this place. On her death-bed, she sent a message to me, requesting to be sealed to Brother Woodruff. It is strange how principles of truth spread. A daughter of that woman is now seeking information in regard to the Gospel, the effect of her mother's dying words. The daughter's husband is a wealthy, worldly man, and will not let his wife attend our meetings. I earnestly seek for wisdom to guide me in all my movements; for while I sympathize with the oppressed, or those barred of Gospel privileges, yet I have no desire to give the wicked an occasion or opportunity to destroy my life and usefulness. The farmers are beginning to weed and hoe the fields. Many women engage in this labor; and yesterday I stopped to witness the working of a threshing machine. It was driven by steam. The foreman, feeder, and two other hands were men; the pitching, band-cutting, and sacking were done by women. It was a sight that I had never seen in Utah; yet, out in the world I hear much about the slavery of Mormon women. Tuesday, April 16th, at midnight, I baptized an old man by the name of Waradell. He was among the first to embrace the gospel on these islands. He went to Nauvoo, worked as a carpenter on the temple, crossed the Mississippi river to go west with the Saints in 1846, with Charles Shumway. At Sugar Creek his heart failed. He apostatized, and returned to England, and now, old and penniless, he comes back into the Church to die. During the clay I baptized three of Brother Bishop's children. I am proud of this; to me they are a lovable family. "Oft have I wandered, weary and alone, To gather flowers, by mortal hand unsown, In shady nook or dell; and sometimes find, Hidden from view, blossoms of rarest kind. And thus in life, the good, and pure, and true Are often hid, by circumstance, from view. Happy the man who brings the treasures forth, And gains, for recompense, a gem of priceless worth."