and it stands fast. Of course God himself may come in counteraction with such a power and whenever he does, is the declaration of this philosopher, the result is the creation of matter, and of all things else in conformity with the subjective idea, the eternal forms and patterns and archetypes, that are given in the reason itself. Illustrations are given in the volume before us of the cosmogony of worlds, which resembles to our apprehension the Monbodo theory of man developed from a tadpole. After the melting of the pencils of ice that are given to illustrate the generation of matter and the thousand forms of beauty and grandeur it assumes, we could not really tell ourselves, though others may be more fortunate, whether we were in the body or out of the body, while we were very sure that we were not in the third heavens. To us we confess, its arrogance seemed matched only by its presumption, and its daring only by its absurdity. Yet the style of composition throughout this work, in its diction, is pure, chaste, classic, if you please, elegant, tasteful, and is eminently suited to philosophical discussions.

The treatise itself must have exacted from the author a tribute of thinking and of toil in writing, that must have been sometimes a severe ordeal to flesh and to spirit. It is the result of the study of the choicest years of a life, and its fruit ought to have been nutritive to thought, useful in marking the true courses of philosophic investigations, and not subversive, as it is, of the very foundations of scientific knowledge in all the departments of moral and religious inquiry. It treats with utter contempt all the treatises on natural theology in our language, and regards them not merely as worthless, but as misleading the human mind in reference to the true methods of a sound and rational investigation. All the Paleys, therefore, and the writers of the Bridgewater Treatises, would have spared their labors doubtless, had they lived in the days of this modern philosophizer and opened their eyes on the sun of the pure and rational psychology.

ARTICLE II.

THREE THOUSAND MILES UP THE MISSOURI.

BY W. BARROWS, ESQ., DAVENPORT, IOWA.

OUR wanderings last year in Idaho and Montana, our safe return to the States, as published in the March and May numbers of this Review for the current year, were made by the overland route. This year, not only for a variety of scenery and a more comfortable passage, but for safety from Indian depredations, we made the trip by steamer on the Missouri River to Fort Benton, the head of navigation, and thence across the country two hundred and sixty miles to Virginia City in Montana Territory, the place of our destination.

Our company was a pleasant one, made up of a few ladies going out to join their husbands in the mining districts, making in all a company of about forty, including some children. We had under our special charge four of these ladies and some children, just enough to establish a responsibility in travelling a distance of more than three thousand miles, consuming three or four months of time, and passing through a country infested with bands of guerillas and Indians.

Ample stores being laid in for so long a voyage through an uninhabited country, we left St. Louis on the morning of the 18th of March, 1865, on the steamer Bertrand, receiving the silent adieus and last sad looks of friends as they stood upon the shore, to see our little pioneer band cast off for the long and dangerous trip.

More than sixty years ago a similar scene was enacted upon the same spot by the intrepid and fearless explorers, Captains Lewis and Clark, with their hardy band, the first navigators of this river. With the exception of a few hundred miles, the country was then unknown to them, but with their Mackinaw boats and light batteaux, they entered on their toilsome journey, yet with many doubts and fears.

It was a beautiful spring morning for us, and but for the parting scene all on board was full of life and hope. Our little Bertrand glided away from friends and home like a thing of life. A voyage to Europe is of common occurrence, and the track of

the ocean is wide and free from rocks and quicksands, but this inland steaming of three or four months upon the crooked, muddy, snaggy, boiling Missouri, is full of hazard, tiresome, and almost endless in its passage.

We simply propose in this paper to give incidents by the way, a description of the Upper Missouri, the Indians who inhabit the country through which we pass, its military and trading posts, and some thoughts on the geological features of the Rocky Mountains, where our noble river begins its life. As it will serve our convenience, so it may somewhat enhance the interest of the reader if we allow our narrative to take a little of the journal form and of the present tense in statement.

Except in very high water, the Missouri is not navigated at night, steamers generally tying up to the shore. The channel is constantly changing and the banks continually falling in. The pilot of last year is obliged to seek a new channel this year, and often compelled in low water to make his soundings from the small boat, and feel his way over new grounds and into new depths.

We passed the town of Lexington to-day, March 22d, located on the western bank of the river, and once a beautiful, thriving city. It was partially destroyed at the beginning of the war by a raid on it from Price and his army. A severe battle was fought in which the Union troops were compelled to retire. Many valuable houses were burned, and the town nearly destroyed.

This portion of the river is now infested with bands of guerillas, who are nightly committing depredations on the settlers, driving off their stock, and robbing and murdering the citizens. Fears are entertained of an attack on our boat, and we are on the constant watch against surprise, anchoring out in the stream at night, and keeping up a strong guard. Our passengers are all well armed, and the boat has forty Enfield rifles well loaded, a thousand rounds of ammunition and a small cannon, furnished us from the State Arsenal at St. Louis, as a protection against guerillas and Indians.

A few hours brings us to Leavenworth City, a beautiful and growing place on the Kansas side of the river, two and a half

miles below old Fort Leavenworth, one of the first military posts on this river.

The willows, the first monitors of spring, just begin to show their buds, and the gently sloping bluffs around Leavenworth are putting on their green attire from the early sprouting of the blue grass. Stern winter has cast off her snowy mantle, and spring, the most joyous season of the year, is just beginning to awaken from her long slumber. We can now come on deck, look about into the early dawn and drink in the beauties of the wakening day. It is true the blue bird has not come, and the songsters of the forest have not begun their glad notes, but we can inhale the freshness of nature, and quaff with delight the first breeze of spring.

Passing Kansas City and the mouth of that river, with some little towns upon either side, we come to St. Joseph, a flourishing city on the eastern bank of the river, connected with the Mississippi by railway to Hannibal and Quincy. This place was once a great outfitting post for the Santa Fe trade, and overland California emigrants, the fur trade, etc. It contains many fine buildings both public and private, with a population of some six thousand.

Council Bluffs, a place of some five thousand inhabitants on the Iowa side of the river, and about three miles from the landing, greets us on the 30th of March. This was the old Mormon town of Kanesville, and is now a very thriving city, having a large farming country around it, well settled.

Omaha is located across the river about five miles above, and is one of the best situated towns on the Missouri River for future prospects. Its position in regard to the great western thoroughfare is good, being on a direct line with Chicago, Davenport, Des Moines, Council Bluffs, Fort Kearny, Salt Lake and California. The Union Pacific Railroad commences here, one hundred and ten miles of which is to be finished by the 1st of July, 1866. Omaha now contains about five thousand inhabitants and carries on a flourishing trade, not only with its home population but with the Colorado, Idaho, and Montana mines and Salt Lake.

This place we leave on the afternoon of the last day of March and tie up our boat at the little town of Florence, Nebraska,

the same night. This is the remains of an old Mormon town, called Winter Quarters by them, it being the place of gathering for that body, preparatory to crossing the plains for Great Salt Lake City, the home of the Latter Day Saints.

We left here at daylight, and at three o'clock in the afternoon, when about fifty five miles above by water and twenty two by land, our boat, the new and pretty little Bertrand, struck a snag on her larboard side and in less than five minutes went down in twelve feet water. The most of the passengers at the time were lounging on their berths, or sitting about the boat, reading and conversing. Thus in a moment as it were, our peaceful little home was changed into fright, confusion, and al. most despair, our plans for the future were all changed, and each was eager to save himself from the muddy waters of the Missouri. It was a beautiful afternoon, and we were sailing along with hopes of a quick passage, not even dreaming of disaster, but in'five minutes, some had lost their all, and others such articles as were indispensable for the trip.

The Missouri River, from its constant changes in its channel and the caving of its banks, carrying with it trees whose roots soon become fastened in the sands on the bottom, is a river of snags. The tops of the trees are soon worn and broken so that they become pointed, and always lying with the current, they are elevated in general to the surface. Sometimes the whole tree becomes submerged and out of sight. This was the case with the one that the Bertrand struck. It was a submerged log. The scene on board for a time was very exciting. Ignorant of the depth of water in which the boat lay, and the depth to which she might go, all were at a loss what to do. She soon struck bottom and commenced to careen over into deep water, when the chairs, tables and other furniture of the cabin were thrown to one side; glass ware, crockery, skylight windows, and glass doors of the cabin were broken as the creaking, laboring vessel was parting and straining her timbers in rolling over. The screams of women and cries of children for a time passed description, and can be understood only by those who who have experienced such a disaster. Many jumped overboard and swam for the shore, others made their way as best they could