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258 tember 15, 1860, that a correspondent, quoting an extract from the "New York Tribune"—the great Republican organ, and therefore no favorite with the Mormons—says, outspokenly enough to please any amount of John Bull, "The author of the above is a most consummate liar"—so far, so good—"and a contemptible dastardly poltroon"—which is invidious.

I passed the morning of the ensuing Sunday in a painful but appropriate exercise, reading the Books of Mormon and of Moroni the Prophet. Some writers tell me that it is the best extant imitation of the Old Testament; to me it seems composed only to emulate the sprightliness of some parts of Leviticus. Others declare that it is founded upon a romance composed by a Rev. Mr. Spaulding; if so, Mr. Spaulding must have been like Prince Puckler-Muskau of traveling notoriety, a romancer utterly without romance. Surely there never was a book so thoroughly dull and heavy: it is monotonous as a sage-prairie. Though not liable to be terrified by dry or hard reading, I was, it is only fair to own, unable to turn over more than a few chapters at a time, and my conviction is that very few are so highly gifted that they have been able to read it through at a heat. In Mormonism it now holds the same locus as the Bible in the more ignorant Roman Catholic countries, where religious reading is chiefly restricted to the Breviary, to tales of miracles, and to legends of Saints Ursula and Bridget. It is strictly proper, does not contain a word about materialism and polygamy —in fact, more than one wife is strictly forbidden even in the Book of Doctrines and Covenants. The Mormon Bible, therefore, is laid aside for later and lighter reading. In one point it has done something. America, like Africa, is a continent of the future; the Book of Mormon has created for it an historical and miraculous past.

At 9 45 A.M. we entered the Bowery; it is advisable to go early if seats within hearing are required. The place was a kind of "hangar," about a hundred feet long by the same breadth, with a roofing of bushes and boughs supported by rough posts, and open for ventilation on the sides; it can contain about 3000 souls. The congregation is accommodated upon long rows of benches, opposite the dais, rostrum, platform, or tribune, which looked like a long lane of boarding open to the north, where it faced the audience, and entered by steps from the east. Between the people and the platform was a place not unlike a Methodist "pen" at a camp-meeting: this was allotted to the orchestra, a violin, a bass, two women and four men performers, who sang the sweet songs of Zion tolerably well—decidedly well, after a moment's reflec-