EDINBURGHREVIEWforJanuary，1862，whichishighlyremarkableforitsphilosophicalandliteraryresearchconcerningtheseLatter-DaySaints。Ifindinitthefollowingsentences:-’TheSelectCommitteeoftheHouseofCommonsonemigrantshipsfor1854
summonedtheMormonagentandpassenger-brokerbeforeit，andcametotheconclusionthatnoshipsundertheprovisionsofthe“PassengersAct“couldbedependeduponforcomfortandsecurityinthesamedegreeasthoseunderhisadministration。TheMormonshipisaFamilyunderstrongandaccepteddiscipline，witheveryprovisionforcomfort，decorumandinternalpeace。’
WhenIthinkIdeserveparticularlywellofmyself，andhaveearnedtherighttoenjoyalittletreat，IstrollfromCovent-gardenintotheCityofLondon，afterbusiness-hoursthere，onaSaturday，or-
betteryet-onaSunday，androamaboutitsdesertednooksandcorners。Itisnecessarytothefullenjoymentofthesejourneysthattheyshouldbemadeinsummer-time，forthentheretiredspotsthatIlovetohaunt，areattheiridlestanddullest。Agentlefallofrainisnotobjectionable，andawarmmistsetsoffmyfavouriteretreatstodecidedadvantage。
Amongthese，CityChurchyardsholdahighplace。SuchstrangechurchyardshideintheCityofLondon；churchyardssometimessoentirelydetachedfromchurches，alwayssopresseduponbyhouses；
sosmall，sorank，sosilent，soforgotten，exceptbythefewpeoplewhoeverlookdownintothemfromtheirsmokywindows。AsI
standpeepinginthroughtheirongatesandrails，Icanpeeltherustymetaloff，likebarkfromanoldtree。Theillegibletombstonesarealllop-sided，thegrave-moundslosttheirshapeintherainsofahundredyearsago，theLombardyPoplarorPlane-Treethatwasonceadrysalter’sdaughterandseveralcommon-councilmen，haswitheredlikethoseworthies，anditsdepartedleavesaredustbeneathit。Contagionofslowruinoverhangstheplace。Thediscolouredtiledroofsoftheenvironingbuildingsstandsoawry，thattheycanhardlybeproofagainstanystressofweather。Oldcrazystacksofchimneysseemtolookdownastheyoverhang，dubiouslycalculatinghowfartheywillhavetofall。Inanangleofthewalls，whatwasoncethetool-houseofthegrave-diggerrotsaway，encrustedwithtoadstools。Pipesandspoutsforcarryingofftherainfromtheencompassinggables，brokenorfeloniouslycutforoldleadlongago，nowlettheraindripandsplashasitlist，upontheweedyearth。Sometimesthereisarustypumpsomewherenear，and，asIlookinattherailsandmeditate，Ihearitworkingunderanunknownhandwithacreakingprotest:asthoughthedepartedinthechurchyardurged，’Letusliehereinpeace；
don’tsuckusupanddrinkus！’
Oneofmybestbelovedchurchyards，IcallthechurchyardofSaintGhastlyGrim；touchingwhatmeningeneralcallit，Ihavenoinformation。ItliesattheheartoftheCity，andtheBlackwallRailwayshrieksatitdaily。Itisasmallsmallchurchyard，withaferocious，strong，spikedirongate，likeajail。Thisgateisornamentedwithskullsandcross-bones，largerthanthelife，wroughtinstone；butitlikewisecameintothemindofSaintGhastlyGrim，thattostickironspikesa-topofthestoneskulls，asthoughtheywereimpaled，wouldbeapleasantdevice。Thereforetheskullsgrinalofthorribly，thrustthroughandthroughwithironspears。Hence，thereisattractionofrepulsionformeinSaintGhastlyGrim，and，havingoftencontemplateditinthedaylightandthedark，Ioncefeltdrawntowardsitinathunderstormatmidnight。’Whynot？’Isaid，inself-excuse。’I
havebeentoseetheColosseumbythelightofthemoon；isitworsetogotoseeSaintGhastlyGrimbythelightofthelightning？’IrepairedtotheSaintinahackneycab，andfoundtheskullsmosteffective，havingtheairofapublicexecution，andseeming，asthelightningflashed，towinkandgrinwiththepainofthespikes。Havingnootherpersontowhomtoimpartmysatisfaction，Icommunicatedittothedriver。Sofarfrombeingresponsive，hesurveyedme-hewasnaturallyabottled-nosed，red-
facedman-withablanchedcountenance。Andashedrovemeback，heeverandagainglancedinoverhisshoulderthroughthelittlefrontwindowofhiscarriage，asmistrustingthatIwasafareoriginallyfromagraveinthechurchyardofSaintGhastlyGrim，whomighthaveflittedhomeagainwithoutpaying。
Sometimes，thequeerHallofsomequeerCompanygivesuponachurchyardsuchasthis，and，whentheLiverydine，youmayhearthemifyouarelookinginthroughtheironrails，whichyouneverarewhenIamtoastingtheirownWorshipfulprosperity。
Sometimes，awholesalehouseofbusiness，requiringmuchroomforstowage，willoccupyoneortwoorevenallthreesidesoftheenclosingspace，andthebacksofbalesofgoodswilllumberupthewindows，asiftheywereholdingsomecrowdedtrade-meetingofthemselveswithin。Sometimes，thecommandingwindowsareallblank，andshownomoresignoflifethanthegravesbelow-notsomuch，forTHEYtellofwhatonceuponatimewaslifeundoubtedly。
SuchwasthesurroundingofoneCitychurchyardthatIsawlastsummer，onaVolunteeringSaturdayeveningtowardseightoftheclock，whenwithastonishmentIbeheldanoldoldmanandanoldoldwomaninit，makinghay。Yes，ofalloccupationsinthisworld，makinghay！ItwasaveryconfinedpatchofchurchyardlyingbetweenGracechurch-streetandtheTower，capableofyielding，sayanapronfulofhay。Bywhatmeanstheoldoldmanandwomanhadgotintoit，withanalmosttoothlesshay-makingrake，Icouldnotfathom。Noopenwindowwaswithinview；nowindowatallwaswithinview，sufficientlynearthegroundtohaveenabledtheiroldlegstodescendfromit；therustychurchyard-
gatewaslocked，themouldychurchwaslocked。Gravelyamongthegraves，theymadehay，allalonebythemselves。TheylookedlikeTimeandhiswife。Therewasbuttheonerakebetweenthem，andtheybothhadholdofitinapastorally-lovingmanner，andtherewashayontheoldwoman’sblackbonnet，asiftheoldmanhadrecentlybeenplayful。Theoldmanwasquiteanobsoleteoldman，inknee-breechesandcoarsegreystockings，andtheoldwomanworemittenslikeuntohisstockingsintextureandincolour。TheytooknoheedofmeasIlookedon，unabletoaccountforthem。Theoldwomanwasmuchtoobrightforapew-opener，theoldmanmuchtoomeekforabeadle。Onanoldtombstoneintheforegroundbetweenmeandthem，weretwocherubim；butforthosecelestialembellishmentsbeingrepresentedashavingnopossibleuseforknee-breeches，stockings，ormittens，Ishouldhavecomparedthemwiththehay-makers，andsoughtalikeness。Icoughedandawoketheechoes，butthehay-makersneverlookedatme。Theyusedtherakewithameasuredaction，drawingthescantycroptowardsthem；
andsoIwasfaintoleavethemunderthreeyardsandahalfofdarkeningsky，gravelymakinghayamongthegraves，allalonebythemselves。PerhapstheywereSpectres，andIwantedaMedium。
InanotherCitychurchyardofsimilarcrampeddimensions，Isaw，thatselfsamesummer，twocomfortablecharitychildren。Theyweremakinglove-tremendousproofofthevigourofthatimmortalarticle，fortheywereinthegracefuluniformunderwhichEnglishCharitydelightstohideherself-andtheywereovergrown，andtheirlegshislegsatleast，forIammodestlyincompetenttospeakofherswereasmuchinthewrongasmerepassiveweaknessofcharactercanrenderlegs。Oitwasaleadenchurchyard，butnodoubtagoldengroundtothoseyoungpersons！IfirstsawthemonaSaturdayevening，and，perceivingfromtheiroccupationthatSaturdayeveningwastheirtrysting-time，Ireturnedthateveningse’nnight，andrenewedthecontemplationofthem。Theycametheretoshakethebitsofmattingwhichwerespreadinthechurchaisles，andtheyafterwardsrolledthemup，herollinghisend，sherollinghers，untiltheymet，andoverthetwooncedividednowunitedrolls-sweetemblem！-gaveandreceivedachastesalute。
Itwassorefreshingtofindoneofmyfadedchurchyardsbloomingintoflowerthus，thatIreturnedasecondtime，andathird，andultimatelythisbefell:-Theyhadleftthechurchdooropen，intheirdustingandarranging。Walkingintolookatthechurch，I
becameaware，bythedimlight，ofhiminthepulpit，ofherinthereading-desk，ofhimlookingdown，ofherlookingup，exchangingtenderdiscourse。Immediatelybothdived，andbecameasitwerenon-existentonthissphere。WithanassumptionofinnocenceI
turnedtoleavethesacrededifice，whenanobeseformstoodintheportal，puffilydemandingJoseph，orindefaultofJoseph，Celia。
Takingthismonsterbythesleeve，andluringhimforthonpretenceofshowinghimwhomhesought，IgavetimefortheemergenceofJosephandCelia，whopresentlycametowardsusinthechurchyard，bendingunderdustymatting，apictureofthrivingandunconsciousindustry。ItwouldbesuperfluoustohintthatIhaveeversincedeemedthistheproudestpassageinmylife。
Butsuchinstances，oranytokensofvitality，arerareindeedinmyCitychurchyards。Afewsparrowsoccasionallytrytoraisealivelychirrupintheirsolitarytree-perhaps，astakingadifferentviewofwormsfromthatentertainedbyhumanity-buttheyareflatandhoarseofvoice，liketheclerk，theorgan，thebell，theclergyman，andalltherestoftheChurch-workswhentheyarewoundupforSunday。Cagedlarks，thrushes，orblackbirds，hanginginneighbouringcourts，pourforththeirstrainspassionately，asscentingthetree，tryingtobreakout，andseeleavesagainbeforetheydie，buttheirsongisWillow，Willow-ofachurchyardcast。Solittlelightlivesinsidethechurchesofmychurchyards，whenthetwoareco-existent，thatitisoftenonlybyanaccidentandafterlongacquaintancethatIdiscovertheirhavingstainedglassinsomeoddwindow。Thewesteringsunslantsintothechurchyardbysomeunwontedentry，afewprismatictearsdroponanoldtombstone，andawindowthatIthoughtwasonlydirty，isforthemomentallbejewelled。Thenthelightpassesandthecoloursdie。Thougheventhen，ifthereberoomenoughformetofallbacksofarasthatIcangazeuptothetopoftheChurchTower，Iseetherustyvanenewburnished，andseemingtolookoutwithajoyfulflashovertheseaofsmokeatthedistantshoreofcountry。
Blinkingoldmenwhoareletoutofworkhousesbythehour，haveatendencytositonbitsofcopingstoneinthesechurchyards，leaningwithbothhandsontheirsticksandasthmaticallygasping。
Themoredepressedclassofbeggarstoo，bringhitherbrokenmeats，andmunch。Iamonnoddingtermswithameditativeturncockwholingersinoneofthem，andwhomIsuspectofaturnforpoetry；