man.

France, where he engaged in the famous debate with several ministers in Boulogne-sur-Mer. While in France be studied the language and published the Book of Mormon in French, and going to Hamburg, published it also in GerHe returned to Salt Lake City in 1852 and was present and assisted at the laying of the corner stones of the Temple in April, 1853. In 1854 he was placed in charge of the branches of the Church in the Eastern States, and in New York City published a vigorous paper called The Mormon, which speedily acquired a prominent reputation both in and out of the Church. He was also one of a delegation appointed to present to Congress a State Constitution and ask for the admission of Utah into the Union.

After his return from this mission he was identified with many important enterprises, and was in the front on every important occasion. His manly and patriotic speeches and writings during the time of the invasion of the army in 1857, on the occasion of the visits of Schuyler Colfax and other prominent politicians, who undertook to represent the Mormon people to their injury before the nation, and his defence of the Constitutional rights of the people made his name the synonym for all that is courageous, outspoken, liberal and admirable.

His position in the council of the Apostles was gravely considered some time before the decease of President Young, and it was decided that he belonged of right at the head of the quorum. This position he occupied when President Brigham Young departed this life, and in connection with the other members of the Twelve he conducted the affairs of the Church with a wisdom, caution and conservatism which gained the approval and admiration of the people.

At the October Conference of 1880 the First Presidency was again organized, with John Taylor as President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in all the world, and as Prophet, Seer and Revelator, and George Q. Cannon and Joseph F. Smith as his Counselors. This organization was sus

tained by unanimous vote of the several Quorums of the Priesthood in General Assembly. President Taylor labored to set in order all the various organizations of the Church at home and abroad, and traveled much in this and adjoining Territories, counseling, directing and preaching to the people. He received several revelations which were written and distributed among the Priesthood, making known the mind and will of the Lord in reference to important matters.

On the passage of the Edmunds Act, March 22, 1882, President Taylor, who had been voted the use of the Gardo House as a family residence, made arrangements with his wives by whichthey were to return to their several domiciles, as he had determined to place himself beyond the charge of violating the law, so that his usefulness in his high calling might not be impaired. His family chose this alternative rather than that he should leave the Gardo House. This arrangement was carried out. President Taylor had not violated the law of 1862, his marital relations having been formed before it was enacted; and he did not break the law of 1882 for the reasons specified. Yet he became an object of assault under the pretended forms of law by the Federal officials engaged in the crusade against the Latter-day Saints.

On the third of January, 1885, in company with several of his brethren, he took a journey to New Mexico and Arizona by the Union Pacific Railway to Denver, thence to Albuquerque. He visited the Mormon settlements in the neighborhood of Winslow, and then went to Guaymas on the Gulf of California and thence to Hermosillo, in Sonora, Mexico, where he met Governor Torres at his residence, who received him and his company with distinguished consideration. President Taylor visited Benson and the adjacent settlements of the Saints and held meetings there and also on the Gila River. The party returned home by way of Los Angeles and San Francisco.

Shortly after this, learning that it was the intention to arrest him on the false

charge of unlawful cohabitation, and knowing the disposition to incarcerate leading Mormons by the aid of packed juries, biased courts and vindictive prosecuting officers, President Taylor left his home and retired from the public view. An indictment was procured against him, although not a particle of direct evidence could be found and the facts were simply as stated above. In his retirement he continued to preside over the Church and direct its affairs, laboring assiduously for its walfare in

all the world. He preserved the vigor of his stalwart body and of his intellectual and cultured mind up to within a brief period of his death. His decease has come through a gradual breaking down of the forces of life, in which a strong constitution resisted the power of the destroyer until the great change came and his noble spirit departed in peace.

A good name is better than precious ointment.

FROM childhood I had read and heard of England, with its antique castles and stately mansions, its verdant meadows, rustic lanes, rippling streams, ruined towers and romantic rocks, and lakes and glens; and, at times, when poetic sentiment ran high, and there was no wood to chop, had reveled in the anticipation of some day putting on the "sandal shoon and scallop shell," and pilgrimizing those historic shores to my heart's content.

At length it came; the long-looked for opportunity. I boarded an eastbound train, on the morning of October 24th, 1881, and five days later found myself three thousand miles from home, walking the streets of the great city of New York, waiting for the steamer to sail that was to convey me to the goal of my heart's desire.

From the beach at Coney Island I gazed for the first time upon the ocean. I need not say it was sublime. A dense fog rested upon the waters, like a veil on the bosom of beauty, limiting and marring to some extent the view; but the proud swell of the grand old billows, keeping time to their own ceaseless roar, was nevertheless glorious and inspiring. I was born among the mountains, and from earliest childhood the aspect of a towering peak had been to me the symbol of sublimity on earth, but the vision of ocean's waves-the liquid mountains of the rolling deep-subdued me completely,

OCEAN.

and for a time obliterated all former impressions. I could not speak a word; I could only gaze on in silent reverence. My mind swept to and fro; I thought of home and friends, of the distance between us, and the vast journey that lay before me; of the long years that must elapse ere I could again meet and mingle with those I loved; and I did what many a stronger man has done, stood still and wept.

"Adieu, adieu, my native shore,
Fades o'er the waters blue,

The night winds sigh, the breakers roar,

And shrieks the wild sea mew;

"Yon sun that sets upon the sea

We follow in his flight,
Farewell, awhile, to him and thee,

My native land, good night." The steamer Arizona upon which I had luckily secured the last cabin berth, bound for Liverpool, left New York early in the afternoon of November first, on her twenty-fourth voyage across the bosom of the rolling brine. She started out in the immediate prospect of inclement weather. The sky was over-cast, a light rain was falling, and a deepening fog spread its misty veil over the surrounding scenery. But, to my unsophisticated gaze, nothing was wanting to complete the charm. The picture was as beautiful as new, and the smooth, easy motion of the vessel, as it sped like a living thing through the gently-heaving dark-green waters,

thrilled me with a rapture which, till then, I had never known Not even the ringing of the dinner-bell, "the bell I had so often heard, and listened to with solemn pleasure," could rouse my mind from reverie, and it was not until a gentle tap upon my shoulder turned me from the taffrail where I was leaning, and a young man with a large nose and a strong English accent informed me that it was "the lawst chawnce befoah breakfast ye knaow," that I awoke to the realization that night was approaching, that supper or "tea" time had arrived, and that my fellow passengers were already busily engaged with knife and fork, administering to nature's necessities, in the cabin dining-room below.

The ocean has ever been and will forever remain poetical. It could not be otherwise. Were all the poetry that has ever been written upon it swept into oblivion, the glorious theme would still remain to inspire the same lofty enthusiasm, which has been the parent of ode, hymn and apostrophe innumerable. Still, there is no denying that our admiration for the ocean is subject to great fluctuation, and often depends wholly upon point of view and surrounding circumstances. There are doubtless some persons of soaring soul and cast-iron diaphragm who can "sail the ocean blue" with all the aesthetic rapture that inspires them while standing on shore, permitting imagination to take a lone voyage; but these, I opine, are not yet as numerous as Abraham's posterity. I am prepared to wager a large orange that the bard who sang "I'm on the sea," was, at the time, snugly ensconced in an attic, and that even the sublime oceanic rhapsodies of the immortal Byron were more the result of ocular than of tangible sensation.

A man may "lay his hand upon the ocean's mane' with comparative comfort, but when the ocean takes it into his hoary head to return the compliment, the conditions are more than liable to be reversed. I found myself aboard this train of reflection immediately after dinner, as I stood leaning against the taffrail of the vessel, counting the scattered stars in

the cloud-mottled canopy overhead, and the hours that would intervene between then and morning. A radical change had come over me. Two hours before I could have spent my life upon the briny blue; now I thought with dismay of the long ten days before me. A death-like sensation crept over me, a cold sweat beaded my brow, my limbs trembled as with palsy, and I clutched convulsively the iron rail before me to keep from falling prostrate. Oh, if I could have been a whale, a mermaid, a seagull— anything but sea-sick; or if I could only have got out and walked! But no; there I was and there I must remain, with the sole consolation that the only way out of it, was to get used to it, even if, like Nelson at Trafalgar, I died in the very moment of victory.

Midnight came, and with it the storm. The wind's fierce whip lashed the waves to foaming frenzy. The ship reeled to and fro like a drunken man. If she had gone to the bottom the ordeal could scarcely have been more discouraging, and certainly would have been less prolonged; but on she went, despite the howling gale that shrieked like a demon through her rigging, and equally unmindful of the roaring, plunging sea, boiling round her like a hungry hell, impatient to engulf the flying prey.

I will not keep the reader on deck through the long hours of that wild and weary night. Morning broke at last, and, though damp and foggy, was hailed with delight by the whole ship's company. The steamer was coasting along in a northeasterly direction toward the Banks of Newfoundland, in which perilous region, two years before, while on her first voyage, she ran foul of a huge iceberg and smashed in her bow. The prevalence of fog, and the rumored proximity of icebergs, necessitated the keenest watchcare on the part of officers and crew, and to guard against the equally dangerous chance of a collision with other vessels, the hoarse foghorn was kept tooting almost incessantly during the fore part of the day.

In the afternoon the sun struggled through its misty covering and burst

gloriously upon the scene. The passengers thronged the deck with faces bright and smiling as the sunlight itself. My sea-sickness was at an end. The ordeal had been brief but severe;

"The burden that lay upon me

Was buried in the sea," and, like phoenix from its ashes, my spirit soared triumphant. Sick transit!

Daylight fled, and evening came forth in all her beauty. It was a lovely night. The last traces of the storm had disappeared, the ocean was waving mildly, and the ship flew onward like a bird over its smooth and glassy surface. Afar to the northward, bristling like spear-grass above the horizon, the faint green rays of the aurora borealis gleamed like spectres upon the face of night; while over-head the broad moon, the beaming flag-ship of a starry fleet, lifting on high her silver sail, floated majes

tically through the azure ocean of the sky. Nothing was heard but the soft murmur of the waves, playfully clinging about the vessel's hull, or laughing in glee as they were pushed aside by the onward gliding prow. It was a night I shall never forget; a night I never wish to forget.

"Land in sight!" was the glad cry that greeted our ears early on the morning of the ninth, as the sun-lit cliffs of "Ould Oireland" dawned upon the view. Our trans-Atlantic voyage was at an end. Columbus never hailed the new world with more delight than we did the old. I have always given myself credit for at least an average amount of patriotism, and have ever cherished a deep and abiding love for native land, but am compelled to confess that once in my life, at least, I have been heartily disgusted with my berth place. Iago.

PROBABLY the American clam is less fully understood than any other feature of our boasted civilization. He is either greatly overestimated on account of his naturally taciturn manner and reserve, or else he is regarded as an intellectual dwarf because he never tries to shine in society.

Clams are of two classes-viz, the little-neck clams and the other clams.

One of the peculiarities of the New York clam is that he has no vitativeness, as the phrenologists call it. The pale bluish growth in the middle of the clam is not vitativeness or love of life, for he does not care to live. Neither does he care whether anybody else lives or not.

I bought a dozen raw clams of a globular man in a white apron a short time ago, having at that time a very erroneous idea about clams in the abstract or in the shell. Having been accustomed to the antique or canned clam, which we used to get by bull team in an incredibly short time from Leavenworth and other posts where the land-locked or malleable clam s found, I knew little of the true Man

hattan clam. I only knew that he cared little for life, but died easily. I had heard that the male clam would turn when trodden upon, but I regarded him as generally undemonstrative and in favor of arbitration.

I was misled also by the calm and unruffled demeanor of the Eastern clam, so I ate these twelve pachyderms hurriedly in order to catch a car, fearing that my seat in the City Hall Park would be taken by someone else. In less than half an hour, if I had read an advertisement in the paper offering a reward for the return of those clams, I would have hunted up the owner and said to him: "Sir, I do not wish to wrong any man. Here are your clams."

This feeling grew on me till I went to a drug store and bought a dose, which I scattered in among those turbulent elements. It was a mixture of things which the druggist sells during the summer as an Asiatic cholera mixture and in winter as a fire-kindler. I could not help asking myself, as I drank it and afterwards threw in one of those patent grenades

for putting out a fire, why a man should put an incendiary under his vest to steal away his brains. I then went to the Battery and lay down under a tree. People who saw me tearing up the greensward and kicking the bark off the tree for a distance of seven feet above the ground said that it was too bad and claimed that no man ought to allow his dog to run loose in August to get hydrophobia and then bite innocent people. People who still think that the pallid and aimless clam does not care for intestine strife and turmoil ought to go and see the way that tree is kicked to pieces.

I was telling a friend afterwards about the lawn festival and clam colic recital that I had been giving, and he said that I made a mistake in eating the clams raw. Raw clams at this season of the year, he said, were liable to be overcome by the heat, or they might be old and blasé when they were caught, but if I could eat them in the form of chowder I would like them, and they would do me good. He knew a good place to get clam chowder and I went with him. It was a very ricochet place, and I was told that Commodore Vanderbilt came there and ate clam chowder only a short time before his death.

So did I.

Chowder, however, is made by shooting two-year-old clams out of a gun, and then cooking them with other things until they seem to lose their identity. It does not hurt people who are used to it, but a man who has most always lived on canned Lima beans ought to have his postoffice address and the address of his favorite undertaker in his pocket before he gives himself up to the false joys of clam chowder.

After we had eaten our chowder we went to call on a friend, and I heard afterwards that he said I was a very much overestimated man. I can see now how he came to form that opinion. I cannot remember what I said while at his house, but if I said anything that would do to write in an autograph album I must have done so mechanically. I then went home, where I did not have to be polite. I have often thought that,

in referring to the joys of home, writers and sculptors do not bear down hard enough on the fact that we can be as mean as we like around our own hearthstone and play a kind of Jekyll-Hyde business for years sometimes without being discovered. In the meantime our wives are requested to always meet us with a smile and a pair of warm slippers, so that we will not become dissatisfied with our home and go somewhere else to do our carousing. I presume that as many as two or three men have been driven to irretrievable ruin by this means. The other man was ruined by eating pudding sauce that had elderberry wine in it. I went home because I was afraid that among strangers, the way I was feeling, I could not carry sunshine whereever I went or be the life of the party. So I went home where nobody expected

it.

Looking back over that long, dark afternoon, I am proud to say that I did not kick any of the children. No member of my family can ever truthfully say that I kicked him, even while under the influence of clams. I sent for a physician and requested that he would come as soon as possible, not because I thought he could save my life, but because I wanted someone to lean upon and show my tongue to. He said I had colic. I had more than half suspected it all the time. He then made himself unpopular at our house by saying that he did not think I would die. After that he wrote a brief editorial in a foreign tongue and asked me if I had any one I could send to the drugstore with it. I said I was afraid not. My butler had gone down to the glazier's to get one of the family diamonds reset and the footman was busy putting a new handle on our crest, but as soon as I was well enough I would go myself. I said this in a tone of biting sarcasm, for I have no butler and wouldn't know how I could keep him busy if I had one. I've never seen the day yet when I couldn't do my own butlering and still have time for my other work.

He then said he would send the prescription himself if I would tell him of some druggist whom I felt I could trust.