I was eager to attend the services at the Tabernacle on my first Sunday in Zion and found it, as I expected, overcrowded. All wore their hats till the address began, and then all uncovered. By my side was the face of a blear-eyed English servant-girl; _en revanche_ in front was a charming American mother and child: she had, what I have remarked in Mormon meetings at Saville House and other places in Europe, an unusual development of the organ which phrenologists call veneration. I did not see any Bloomers “displaying a serviceable pair of brogues,” or “pictures of Grant Thorburn in petticoats.” There were a few specimens of the “Yankee woman,” formerly wondrous grim, with a shrewd, thrifty gray eye, at once cold and eager, angular in body and mind, tall, bony, and square-shouldered, now softened and humanized by transplantation and transposition to her proper place. The number of old people astonished me; half a dozen were sitting on the same bench; these broken-down men and decrepit crones had come to lay their bones in the Holy City; their presence speaks equally well for their faith and for the kind-heartedness of those who had brought the encumbrance. I remarked some Gentiles in the Bowery; many, however, do not care to risk what they may hear there touching themselves. At 10 A. M. the meeting opened with a spiritual song. Then Mr. Wallace--a civilized-looking man lately returned from foreign travel--being called upon by the presiding elder for the day, opened the meeting with prayer, of which the two short-hand writers in the tribune proceeded to take notes. The matter, as is generally the case with returned missionaries delivering their budget, was good; the manner was somewhat Hibernian; the “valleys of the mountains”--a stock phrase, appeared and reappeared like the speechifying Patlander’s eternal “emerald green hills and beautiful pretty valleys.” He ended by imploring a blessing upon the (Mormon) President, and all those in authority; Gentiles of course were included. The conclusion was an amen, in which all hands joined: it reminded me of the historical practice of “humming” in the seventeenth century, which caused the universities to be called “_Hum et Hissimi auditores_.”