A problem that appeared indisputable to the minds of Brother Jarrum’s listeners.  They sincerely wished themselves in New Jerusalem.

“Through the streets runs a stream of sparkling water, clear as crystal,” continued Brother Jarrum.  “You have only got to stoop down with a can on a hot summer’s day, and take a drink of it.  It runs on both sides the streets for convenience; folks step out of their houses, and draw it up with no trouble.  You have not got to toil half a mile to a spring of fresh water there!  You’d never forget the silver lake at the base of Antelope Island, once you set eyes on it.”

Several haggard eyes were lifted at this.  “Do silver grow there, like the sage?”

“I spoke metaphorical,” explained Brother Jarrum.  “Would I deceive you?  No.  It’s the Great Salt Lake, that shines out like burnished silver, and bursts on the sight of the new pilgrims when they arrive in bands at the holy city—­the emigrants from this land.”

“Some do arrive then, sir?” timidly questioned Dinah Roy.

“Some!” indignantly responded Brother Jarrum.  “They are arriving continual.  The very evening before I left, a numerous company arrived.  It was just upon sunset.  The clouds was all of rose colour, tipped with purple and gold, and there lay the holy city at their feet, in the lovely valley I told you of last night, with the lake of glittering silver in the distance.  It is a sight for ’em, I can tell you!  The regular-built houses, inclosed in their gardens and buildings, like farm homesteads, and the inhabitants turning out with fiddles, to meet and welcome the travellers.  Some of the pilgrims fainted with joy; some shouted; lots danced; and sobs and tears of delight burst from all.  If the journey had been a little fatiguing—­what of that, with that glorious scene at the end of it?”

“And you see this?” cried a man, Davies, in a somewhat doubtful tone.

“I see it with my two eyes,” answered Brother Jarrum.  “I often see it.  We had had news in the city that a train of new-comers was approaching, mostly English, and we went out to meet ’em.  Not one of us saints, hardly, but was expecting some friend by it—­a sister, or a father, or a sweetheart, maybe; and away we hurried outside the city.  Presently the train came in sight.”

“They have railroads there, then?” spoke a man, who was listening with eager interest.  It was decent, civil Grind.

“Not yet; we shall have ’em shortly,” said Brother Jarrum.  “The train consisted of carts, carriages, vehicles of all sorts; and some rode mules, and some were walking on their legs.  They were all habited nicely, and singing hymns.  A short way afore they arrive at the holy city, it’s the custom for the emigrants to make a halt, and wash and dress themselves, so as to enter proper.  Such a meeting! the kissing and the greeting drownding the noise of the music, and the old men and the little children dancing.  The prophet himself came out, and shook hands with ’em all, his brass band blowing in front of him, and he standing up in his carriage.  Where else would you travel to, I’d like to know, and find such a welcome at the end of your journey?  Houses, and friends, and plenty, all got ready aforehand; and gentlemen waiting to marry the ladies that may wish to enter the holy state!”