of spring water, and is one of the most notable fishing ponds known, attracting fishermen from far and near. “Trempealeau; surrounded, soaked, fertilized with water.” So expressive, so important to this region is the word, that the lake, the island, the mountain, the river, the county; the township, and the village are all named Trempealeau.

Another slight turn and we are looking into the closed up valley of the Mississippi,—on account of a bend in the river—which is the fourth and last river that enters, crosses, and waters this garden is on the west bank of which, at the upper end of our garden, right there, plainly before you, lies the charming bustling city of Winona,—associated with a thousand legends of Indian traditions,—with its tall water tower, its numerous lumber mills, churches, normal school, and enterprising people, stretching itself over a smooth and most lovely prairie. Vandal proprietors are devouring their “Sugar Loaf,” standing just back of the city, as well as quarrying down their native garden walls.

In our constant turning to the left, that string of white buildings below Winona, on the river's bank and pressed against the foot of the wall, is Homer, a quiet little ville.

In our western view we shall not see so many objects of interest; as not a river [pg 17] pierces the western wall, only a few little brooks, or trout harboring runs,—where they used to catch the speckled trout by the bushel, prominent among which is Cedar run, just, a little above us and Trout run directly opposite of us, on which is located the celebrated “Pick Wick” flouring mills—are all that indent or mar its smooth and even face. Then, everything appears to be so near by. The forms, and farm houses, in such multiplied variety, so plain in sight, just “Over there,” outside of the garden, rough and rugged, to where “Fallen Humanity” was driven. And we are getting tired of looking, so we make a rapid turn, glancing along the wall down over New Amsterdam and Holland settlement, to the point of commencement, and are looking into the closed-up valley, on account of another bend, in this mighty, mighty, Mississippi river, in its exit out of this Garden of Eden.

As we look down once more on this valley garden land, with its little silver lakes, and shining streams, beautiful groves and undulating prairies, and try to peer into its future, we are completely overwhelmed with emotion, as we notice it is just beginning to be checkered up, by marks of intelligent human occupancy, as well as by the Indian tepee and wigwam. But the time of gardening is not yet. And here is room for hundreds of thousands of the fallen sons of God, to come and regain a home in this “Paradise on earth” to all such as have a Paradise within them.

Now, will any one believe us? “Come and see!” Dr. Warner and all. Take this description in your hand, read, and look, and like the “Queen of Sheba,” you will lose your [pg 18] “spirit of doubting,” and say: “It was a true report, though I believed it not, but now that mine eyes have seen it, the one half of its greatness was not told.”

From our past observation, it is not so very strange to us, that individuals often pass along over important sections of earth with out noticing its beauty and its glory. Not that its flowers and its fruits are altogether hidden, but that they have become common place, or for lack of attention, on account of preoccupancy of the mind, are not noticed. Nor is it much wonder that individuals should reside right in the midst of the garden of Eden and not be aware of it; see many of its peculiar characteristics, and yet not recognize them; simply because they seem natural; were indeed natural; just as God made it; or, the results of natural growth and changes. It is perfectly plain from the Bible account, and that is our guide in this matter, that Eden was a country, and that a very important river crossed or ran through and watered that country, and because of its importance was named Euphrates.—the great river, a very common ancient method of naming things.—And that, “Eastward,” or on the eastward bank of that river, central in this Eden, at a certain point,—where three rivers joined the great river, the four entering, and crossing the garden, and only the great river running out of it,—was located the garden of Eden; [pg 19] One of the most desirable places for a human being to dwell. Conducive of human happiness: First, where there was a plenty of good water, for human uses, and to fertilize the land, also for fishes and fowls, and yet exempt from malarial diseases. And we ask, where can there be found another plat of earth, of the same size and surroundings, so abundantly watered, and with all the requisites for a garden, and yet so free from malaria, as is our garden of Eden. Second, far enough north to catch the dry, balmy, health inspiring atmosphere, and the pure water, the native home of the speckled trout, and yet the summer temperature of the mild temperate zone, a medium from which to send its inhabitants north and south. Third, exemption from the great terrors of mankind, earthquake and cyclone. While the mountains are far away “round about” our Eden, and the minerals in great abundance and variety are within and about it, yet so far removed are they from the garden, as entirely to exempt it from earthquakes; as these are confined to sea coasts, and gas producing regions. And as cyclones are supposed to be produced by the sun's rays,—as they never occur in the night,—and peculiar electric concentration, which requires uniformity of land, or region, and heat, and as our garden is sunk down into the earth to the depth of 500 feet, and in a line or direction, requiring a cyclone to cross it at right angles,—as their course is from the south of west, toward the north of east—and thus would have to leap the chasm, or loose its force in tumbling into it,—and such is the uneveness [pg 20] of the country around it as to lessen liability—for a cyclone is simply an electric wind storm, and not a thunder storm, and moves in a single cloud, and not spread abroad, and would be broken by an uneven country; find also on account of the evaporation arising from the “much water” of our garden, such an electric heated current could not well be formed across it; so we are naturally exempt from cyclone, as well as earthquakes, which must be a great relief of mind, and source of enjoyment to our residents. Yet from its size, and shallowness, we must still be subject to high and purifying winds, and rain storms. And as evaporation and consequently the conducting of electricity from the earth to the cloud regions, must go on more rapidly in our garden, on a hot day, because of its “much water,” so,