The site was chosen in 1862 by Colonel Connor at the time when incidents arising out of the murder by the Mormons of the rival prophet Morris, a poor, half-crazy Welshman, rendered it necessary for the United States Government to bid the Saints behave themselves. However degrading for a prophet it might be to have the guns of his country’s army turned upon the windows of his harem, there the battery remained, ready at a moment’s notice to blow the whole hierarchy of the Saints, their wives, and their homesteads into the next world. The officers gave Oliver a soldier’s welcome, and were most civil and courteous to us. But how they hated the Mormons, and how one felt the delight that it would be to them to receive orders to bombard the Eagle House, the Beehive House and the whole detested city of lies, the “City of Confusion”! But those orders were not likely to come, for the Government of the United States never made up their minds to deal effectively with the danger within their gates, and even the so-called Mormon war was but a very half-hearted affair. Instead of boldly taking in hand what was really high treason against the Stars and Stripes, successive Presidents sheltered themselves behind the responsibility of the individual State concerned, in order to shirk what was the duty of the Federation. In the afternoon we went with Governor McCook to visit Brigham Young at the Beehive House. We were shown into quite a modest parlour such as you might find in a well-to-do farmhouse or humble Scottish manse. No luxury, no sign of any artistic refinement, no pictures, no books. The Prophet prided himself on a sublime contempt for study in any shape. There were one or two elders in the room, waiting, like ourselves, for an audience of the Lion of the Lord, who presently appeared. He was big and burly, not conspicuously tall, but broad-shouldered and massive. He was seventy-one years of age, but looked much younger, for he had plenty of wavy fair hair turning grey, and his face was framed in what used to be called in London slang, “a Newgate fringe.” Had it not been for a marvellously strong lower jaw indicating the iron will which had carried him through so many dangers and difficulties, he would have passed unnoticed in a crowd; but the square jaw and chin, the firmly-set lips, and a certain ominously suspicious look in the rather colourless eyes spoke volumes.