AMONG THE MORMONS. 499 



The pretty city of Ogden has had one of the wildest 

 and most thrilling of birthplaces. 



To-day it reminds the stranger of one of the peaceful 

 little cities of old Massachusetts, nestled among the 

 Berkshire Hills, wide of street, stately of architecture, 

 redolent of comfort and refinement. 



But in reality Ogden is the child of Utah. Mines 

 of precious metals are its neighbors. It has been the 

 scene of daring explorations, of Indian raids, and of 

 many murders and massacres. Its original inhabitants 

 were fanatics, so enthused with, so overwhelmed by their 

 tenets, as to believe themselves of all the world the 

 favorites of the Almighty, the only original handful 

 of His saints, the small remnant of the human family 

 to which constant revelations from Heaven were 

 vouchsafed. 



Upheld by this fanaticism, drawn with it as by a 

 magnet from all over the United States, from Canada, 

 from the countries of Europe, proselytes came to join 

 the Mormons. They journeyed by mule trains over the 

 Plains, or they walked perhaps, pushing their all in 

 hand-carts before them. They encountered persecution, 

 suffering, and even death, undaunted. Some of them, 

 on their perilous journey to the Promised Land, sub- 

 sisted on roots. Some boiled the skins of their buffalo 

 robes and ate them. Some pushed their little carts on 

 the last day of their lives and then laid down to freeze 

 before the land of their desire was in sight. Graves or 

 skeletons frequently marked their route of march, but 

 still they came, and having come they prospered. 



Their farms throve; their boundaries increased; 



their settlements became many. 

 24 



