Apropos of Salt Lake City; as all roads once led to Rome, so also are there very few western-bound tourists, who do not find themselves, at some stage of their wanderings, guests within its gates. They come from everywhere, and their expectations are varied. They go in great crowds to the Tabernacle organ recitals, where a matchless instrument is touched by a master hand, while ten thousand can be comfortably seated beneath its pillarless dome, and lose not one vibration. Ah! How can one describe a scene so inspiring? The vast audience spell-bound, entranced, forgetful alike of time and place, deaf to all else save the voice of the wonderful organ, bearing to them great waves of melody, now glorious and triumphant in the Tannhauser and William Tell, now low and wailing in Il Trovatore. Now it is the Lost Chord and now the Angels' Chorus, lacking only articulation to make it human. And so we listen and marvel, and make good resolutions, and the music grows soft and faint, and far away, and ceases; and we find ourselves in a silence that is intense, vainly striving {194} to catch one more harmonious whisper. It is all over. We are glad, if we may, to take the hand of the organist, and then we go streaming out into the sunshine, and the great, bustling, workaday world claims us once more. We go our various ways feeling the better for this happy hour, snatched out of the glowing heart of the busy day, and resolve to go again if time permits. And all this is free. Free as the air we breathe, and the grass we tread upon, twice a week throughout the year, save only the winter months. Really, for semi-barbarians, this is doing very well. When we see this great Tabernacle filled on a Sabbath afternoon and hear the charm of five hundred voices added to that of the organ, and listen to the straightforward addresses of several unsalaried "Saints," our thoughts go back to the half empty churches of the East, and we feel that we have come upon at least one mystery. Whatever are the doctrines Mormonism teaches, its votaries seem to be earnest and do not look like a priest-ridden people. In their family life they are extremely hospitable, and he is fortunate indeed who is admitted as a guest within their homes. We are charmed by their hearty welcome, and the unostentatious kindness that is showered upon us.