In memory of REV. HORACE HUTCHINSON, late Pastor of the Congregational Church, of Burlington. He was born at Sutton, Mass., Aug. 10, 1817. Graduated at Amherst College, 1839, and at Andover Theological Seminary in 1843. He died March 7, 1846.

Sacred to the memory of REV. SAMUEL PAYNE, Missionary, native of New Jersey, who doparted this life, Jan. 8, 1845, aged 38 years, 6 mo. and 17 days. Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: yea saith the spirit, that they may rest from their labors; and their works do follow them. Rev. xiv, 13.

In memory of REV. THOMAS SCHULTZ, German Missionary of the Methodist Church; born July 11, 1821; died March 18, 1848. *Christus ist mein Leben und sterben ist mein Gewin.

In memory of REV. WILLIAM HEMMINGHAUS, German Missionary of the M.E. Church; born Jan. 26, 1808; died Jan. 24, 1848.

The view shows the appearance of Keokuk, as seen from the hights above the Ferry landing, on the Illinois side of the Mississippi. The Keokuk, Fort Des Moines and Minnesota Railroad is on the extreme left; the Keokuk, Mount Pleasant and Muscatine Railroad on the right.

KEOKUK, and semi-capital of Lee county, is a short distance above the confluence of the Des Moines with the Mississippi, on the west side of the Mississippi, 200 miles above St. Louis, 1,400 above New Orleans, and about 150 from Des Moines, the capital. It is at the S.E. corner of the state, at the foot of the "Lower Rapids," and being the only city of Iowa having uninterrupted communication with all the great tributaries of the "Father of Waters," it has not inaptly been called the "Gate City" of Iowa. The site of Keokuk is remarkably fine. It covers the top and slopes of a large bluff, partially around which the Mississippi bends with a graceful curve, commanding a fine prospect to the south and north. The city stands

upon an inexhaustible quarry of limestone rock, forming ample material for buildings. A portion of the great water power at this point is used in various manufactories, flouring mills, founderies, etc. The Mississippi, upward from this place, flows over a rocky bed of limestone, called the Rapids, 12 miles in extent, falling, in that distance, 24 feet, making it difficult for the larger class of steamboats to pass. The city contains several splendid public buildings, the medical department of the State University, hospital, some eight or nine churches, and about 13,000 inhabitants.

The plat of the village of Keokuk was laid out in the spring of 1837, and in the ensuing June a public sale of town lots was held, and attended by a very large crowd. One boat was chartered in St. Louis, and numbers came up on other boats. Only two or three lots, the south-west corner of Mainstreet and the levee, and one or two others lying contiguous, were sold. The corner lot went for $1,500, and a New York company still hold the deed of trust on it to secure the payment.

In 1840, the main portion of Keokuk was a dense forest, and where Mainstreet now is, were thick timber and underbrush. It was so swampy and rough between Third and Fourth-streets, as to be rather dangerous riding on horseback after a heavy rain. About a dozen cabins comprised all the improvements. In the spring of 1847, a census of the place gave a population of 620. Owing to the unsettled state of the titles, but little progress was made till 1849. From that time until the autumn of 1857 it had a rapid growth.

Keokuk derived its name from Keokuk (the Watchful Fox), a chieftain of the Sac tribe, distinguished for his friendship to the Americans during the Black Hawk war. He often lost his popularity with his tribe by his efforts to keep them at peace with the United States, and nothing but his powerful eloquence and tact sustained him. He was once deposed by his tribe, and a young chief elected in his place. He, however, soon attained his former position. Keokuk was born about the year 1780. He was not a hereditary chief, but raised himself to that dignity by the force of talent and enterprise. He was a man of extraordinary eloquence; fertile in resources on the field of battle; possessed of desperate bravery; and never at a loss in any emergency. He had six wives, was fond of display, and on his visits of state to other tribes, moved, it is supposed, in more savage magnificence than any other chief on the continent. He was a noble looking man, about five feet ten inches in hight, portly, and over 200 pounds in weight. He had an eagle eye, a dignified bearing, and a manly, intelligent expression of countenance, and always painted and dressed in the Indian costume. He supplanted Black Hawk as chieftain of the Sacs and Foxes. He died in Missouri a few years since, and was succeeded in the chieftainship by his son.

The Des Moines River, which terminates at Keokuk, is one of the noblest of streams. Keokuk is the principal port of its valley, in which half the population and agricultural wealth of the state are concentrated. On the banks of the Des Moines stood the village of the celebrated chief Black Hawk, who there breathed his last, Oct. 3, 1840. He was buried near the banks of the river, in a sitting posture, as is customary with his tribe. His hands grasped his cane, and his body was surrounded by stakes, which united at the top.

Iowa is noted for the extent and magnificence of her prairies. These are of great advantage to the rapid and easy settlement of a country. When,

however, too extensive, without a sufficiency of timber, a prairie country has some serious drawbacks. Fortunately, in Iowa, the immense beds of coal partly supply the deficiency in fuel, and the prairie country there is remarkably healthy. It is generally rolling, often even hilly, the streams mostly

fresh running water, with sandy or gravelly beds, which condition prevents the origin of miasma, the great scourge of flat, prairie districts, where sluggish streams, winding their snaky shaped course through rich alluvial soils, generate disease and death from their stagnant waters, green and odious with the slime of a decaying vegetation. The prairie farms of Iowa, large, smooth and unbroken by stump or other obstruction, afford an excellent field for the introduction of mowing machines and other improved implements of agriculture.

The wonderful fertility of the prairies is accounted for by the fact that we have a soil "which for thousands of years has been bearing annual crops of grass, the ashes or decayed stems of which have been all that time adding to the original fer

tility of the soil. So long back as we have any knowledge of the country, it had been the custom of the Indians to set fire to the prairie grass in autumn, after frost set in, the fire spreading with wonderful rapidity, covering vast districts of country, and filling the atmosphere for weeks with smoke. In the course of ages a soil somewhat resembling an ash-heap must have been thus gradually created, and it is no wonder that it should be declared to be inexhaustible in fertility. In Europe such tracts of fertile country as the plain of Lombardy are known to have yielded crops for more than 2,000 years without intermission, and yet no one says that the soil is exhausted. Here we have a tract naturally as rich, and with the addition of its own crops rotting upon its surface, and adding to its stores of fertility all that time. It need occasion no surprise therefore, to be told of twenty or thirty crops of Indian corn being taken in succession from the same land, without manure, every crop, good or better, according to the nature of the season."

A distinguished English chemist analyzed some of the prairie soils of the west. "His analysis, which was of the most scrutinizing character, bears out completely the high character for fertility which practice and experience had already proved these soils to possess. The most noticeable feature in the analysis is the very large quantity of nitrogen which each of the soils contains, nearly twice as much as the most fertile soils of Britain. In each case, taking the soil at an average depth of ten inches, an acre of these prairies will contain upward of three tuns of nitrogen, and as a heavy crop of wheat with its straw contains about fifty-two pounds of nitrogen, there is thus a natural store of ammonia in this soil sufficient for more than a hundred wheat crops. In Dr. Voelcker's words, 'It is this large amount of nitrogen, and the beautiful state of division, that impart a peculiar character to these soils, and distinguish them so favorably. They are soils upon which I imagine flax could be grown in perfection, supposing the climate to be otherwise favorable. I have never before analyzed soils which contained so much nitrogen, nor do I find any record of soils richer in nitrogen than these.''

"The novelty of the prairie country is striking, and never fails to cause an exclamation of surprise from those who have lived amid the forests of Ohio and Kentucky, or along the wooded shores of the Atlantic, or in sight of the rocky barriers of the Allegheny ridge. The extent of the prospect is exhilarating. The outline of the landscape is undulating and graceful. The verdure and the flowers are beautiful; and the absence of shade, and consequent appearance of a profusion of light, produces a gayety which animates every beholder.

These plains, although preserving a general level in respect to the whole country, are yet, in themselves, not flat, but exhibit a gracefully waving surface, swelling and sinking with easy, graceful slopes, and full, rounded outlines, equally avoiding the unmeaning horizontal surface, and the interruption of abrupt or angular elevations.

The attraction of the prairie consists in its extent, its carpet of verdure and flowers, its undulating surface, its groves, and the fringe of timber by which it is surrounded. Of all these, the latter is the most expressive feature. It is that which gives character to the landscape, which imparts the shape, and marks the boundary of the plain. If the prairie be small, its greatest beauty consists in the vicinity of the surrounding margin of woodland, which resembles the shore of a lake indented with deep vistas, like bays and inlets, and throwing out long points, like capes and headlands.

In the spring of the year, when the young grass has just covered the ground with a carpet of delicate green, and especially if the sun is rising from behind a distant swell of the plain and glittering upon the dewdrops, no scene can be more lovely to the eye. The groves, or clusters of timber, are particularly attractive at this season of the year. The rich undergrowth is in full bloom. The rosewood, dogwood, crab-apple, wild plum, the cherry, and the wild rose are all abundant, and in many portions of the state the grape-vine abounds. The variety of wild fruit and flowering shrubs is so great, and such the profusion of the blossoms with which they are bowed down, that the eye is regaled almost to satiety.

The gayety of the prairie, its embellishments, and the absence of the gloom and savage wildness of the forest, all contribute to dispel the feeling of loneliness which usually creeps over the mind of the solitary traveler in the wilderness. Though

he may not see a house or a human being, and is conscious that he is far from the habitations of men, the traveler upon the prairie can scarcely divest himself of tho idea that he is traveling through scenes embellished by the hand of art. The flowers, so fragile, so delicate, and so ornamental, seem to have been tastefully disposed to adorn the scene.

In the summer, the prairie is covered with long, coarse grass, which soon assumes a golden hue, and waves in the wind like a fully ripe harvest. The prairie-grass never attains its highest growth in the richest soil; but in low, wet, or marshy land, where the substratum of clay lies near the surface, the center or main stem of the grass-that which bears the seed-shoots up to the hight of eight and ten feet, throwing out long, coarse leaves or blades. But on the rich, undulating_prairies, the grass is finer, with less of stalk and a greater profusion of leaves. The roots spread and interweave, forming a compact, even sod, and the blades expand into a close, thick grass, which is seldom more than eighteen inches high, until late in the season, when the seed-bearing stem shoots up. The first coat is mingled with small flowers the violet, the bloom of the wild strawberry, and various others, of the most minute and delicate texture. As the grass increases in hight, these smaller flowers disappear, and others, taller and more gaudy, display their brilliant colors upon the green surface; and still later, a larger and coarser succession arises with the rising tide of verdure. It is impossible to conceive a more infinite diversity, or a richer profusion of hues, 'from grave to gay,' than graces the beautiful carpet of green throughout the entire season of summer.

"The autumnal months, in Iowa, are almost invariably clear, warm, and dry. The immense mass of vegetation with which this fertile prairie soil loads itself during the summer is suddenly withered, and the whole earth is covered with combustible materials. This is especially true of those portions where grass grows from two to ten feet high, and is exposed to sun and wind, becoming thoroughly dried. A single spark of fire, falling upon the prairie at such a time, instantly kindles a blaze that spreads on every side, and continues its destructive course as

long as it finds fuel. These fires sweep along with great power and rapidity, and frequently extend across a wide prairie and advance in a long line. No sight can be more sublime than a stream of fire, beheld at night, several miles in breadth, advancing across the plains, leaving behind it a background of dense black smoke, throwing before it a vivid glare, which lights up the whole landscape for miles with the brilliancy of noonday. The progress of the fire is so slow, and the heat so intense, that every combustible in its course is consumed. The roots of the prairie-grass, and several species of flowers, however, by some peculiar adaptation of nature, are spared."

The winters on the prairie are often terrible. Exposed to the full sweep of the icy winds that come rushing down from the Rocky Mountains, without a single obstruction, the unlucky traveler that is caught, unprotected by sufficient clothing, is in imminent danger of perishing before the icy blast. December and January of the winter of 1856-7, were unprecedentedly stormy and cold in western Iowa. A writer for one of the public prints, who passed that winter on the western frontier of this state, gives this vivid picture of the sufferings of the frontier settlers, his communication being dated at "Jefferson's Grove, fifty miles from a postoffice." "Once the mercury has been 30 deg. below zero, twice 24 deg., several times 16 deg., and more than seven eighths of the time at some point below zero. Only two days in the whole two months has it been above the freezing point.

We have had four fierce snow storms, in which one could not see an object four rods distant, and I doubt if such storms can be excelled in fury in any of the hyperborean regions. Everybody was compelled to keep within doors; cattle were driven before the driving snow until they found refuge in the groves; and most of the houses, within doors, were thoroughly sifted with snow. But I will relate a few instances of frontier hardships.

Forty miles above here, at the very margin of the settlement, a family was caught by the first snow storm, almost without firewood and food. In the morning the husband made a fire, and leaving to seek for assistance from his nearest neighbors, distant six miles, directed his family to make one more fire, and then retire to bed, and there remain until he returned; they did so. After excessive hardships, he