"all expect to be at the top of the tree at once, and they find themselves in the wrong box; no man gets on here by pushing; he begins at the lowest seat; a new hand is not trusted; he is first sent on mission, then married, and then allowed to rise higher if he shows himself useful." This bore a cachet of truth:
Les sots sont un peuple nombreux,
Trouvant toutes choses faciles;
Il faut le leur passer; souvent ils sont heureux,
Grand motif de se croire habiles.
Many of these English emigrants have passed over the plains without knowing that they are in the United States, and look upon Mr. Brigham Young much as Roman Catholics of the last generation regarded the Pope. The Welsh, Danes, and Swedes have been seen on the transit to throw away their blankets and warm clothing, from a conviction that a gay summer reigns throughout the year in Zion. The mismanagement of the inexperienced travelers has become a matter of Joe Miller. An old but favorite illustration, told from the Mississippi to California, is this: A man rides up to a standing wagon, and seeing a wretched-looking lad nursing a starving baby, asks him what the matter may be: "Wal, now," responds the youth, "guess I'm kinder streakt—ole dad's drunk, ole marm's in hy-sterics, brother Jim be playing poker with two gamblers, sister Sal's down yonder a' courtin' with an in-tire stranger, this 'ere baby's got the diaree, the team's clean guv out, the wagon's broke down, it's twenty miles to the next water, I don't care a if I never see Californy."
We returned homeward by the States Road, in which are two of the principal buildings. On the left is the Council Hall of the Seventies, an adobe tenement of the usual barn shape, fifty feet long by thirty internally, used for the various purposes of deliberation, preaching, and dancing; I looked through the windows, and saw that it was hung with red. It is a provisional building, used until a larger can be erected. A little beyond the Seventies' Hall, and on the other side of the road, was the Social Hall, the usual scene of Mormon festivities; it resembled the former, but it was larger—73×33 feet—and better furnished. The gay season had not arrived; I lost, therefore, an opportunity of seeing the beauty and fashion of Great Salt Lake City in ballroom toilette, but I heard enough to convince me that the Saints, though grave and unjovial, are a highly sociable people. They delight in sleighing and in private theatricals, and boast of some good amateur actors, among whom Messrs. B. Snow, H. B. Clawson, and W.C. Dunbar are particularly mentioned. Sir E.L. Bulwer will perhaps be pleased to hear that the "Lady of Lyons" excited more furore here than even in Europe. It is intended, as soon as funds can be collected, to build a theatre which will vie
