The Emigrant’s Trail: An Unknown Grave

3. The faithful performance of a mission for Christ exalts

you to the dignity of the apostleship. 4. It increases your spirituality by directing your thoughts and aspirations to the service of God, ard the doing of good to your fellow creatures. 5. It inclineth to humility and self-abnegation, which is to tread in the footprints of the Master. 6. Broadens the mind, by familiarizing it with the geography, politics, and sociology of the nations. 7. It eradicates local prejudices, and brings you more into sympathy with the world of mankind, for whom Christ made his great sacrifice. 8. It will soften your death-bed and pillow, for no departing soul ever regretted a service done to God, or a kindness rendered to his fellows. 9. It is an education that can be gained in no other way. 10. It confirms your faith in God's love and truth. 11. It gives stability to your character, and, as a consequence, contributes to your future prosperity and happiness. 12. Yes, my young brother, it pays to fill a foreign mission. Ogden, Utah. THE EMIGRANT'S TRAIL ON THE PLATTE RIVER. AN UNKNOWN GRAVE. (For the Improvement Era.) the lone, lone plains! the vastness of earth and sky! The lonely river flows over its sands, 'Neath the kill-deer's mournful cry,

— —— — AN UNKNOWN GRAVE. £09 And the very air is so lonely and sad That the wild winds sob and sigh; Sob and sigh, and forever rave Over an emigrant's lonely grave! Who lieth here? Can no one tell The tale of this silent mound? Soaring above, the grey hawk flies And his shadow flits over the ground, And a prairie-dog chirps to its mate alway Its shrill notes' warning sound, But comes no answer to tell the tale Of this lonely mound on the western trail. And this is one, but one Of a thousand marks in the sod Where, wearily lying down to rest, The emigrants ceased to plod, And left the trail, the lonesome trail, To return to home and God, Learning the faith that to Heaven cries, And opens the gates of Paradise! the lone, lone plains! the vastness of earth and sky! For a thousand miles the trail sweeps on Where the emigrant trains went by, Theirs was the task to mark the way, With the faith to do or die! And the wind, the mournful wind, still raves Over the trail and the unknown graves! J. L. Townsend Payson, Utah.