enslavement of sense.

There may not be much poetry in the

confession, but there is a deal of truth in it:

"I'm like a helpless captive sold

Under the power of sin;

I can not do the good I would,

Nor keep my conscience clean."

Is there any thing in nature more appealing for succor unto God than this inthralment of an immortal spirit? We will not say, with one of the writers of the Aids to Faith, that "the transmission of sin in human history can only be defended as a just arrangement of Providence in view of a Deliverer from its guilt." God's ways in connection with this momentous matter scarcely demand this vindication. But while no situation in which a sinful soul may find itself, can put its Maker under the obligation of saving it, this lost estate of humanity cries from the ground in piteous accents to heaven for the interposition of Almighty mercy. It points directly to the necessity of the counterparts, in the spiritual world, of those acts of superhuman power which attested the coming of Christ in our nature. As he opened blinded eyes, quickened deaf ears, cured the lame and sick, raised the physically dead, so, to make his redeeming work a personally possessed blessing to us, there is equal need for Divine grace now to unseal the shut eyes and ears of the soul, to heal its sicknesses, to give true life to the dead in trespasses and in sins. The first of these displays of miraculous intervention were but the types and pledges of the last; wholly worthless and purposeless except as accompanied and followed by these other acts of regenerating and sanctifying power.

A sublime harmony runs through the entire system of God's administration in the natural and moral universe. Creation is the prophecy and the promise of re-creation. This is in the hands of the Son and the Spirit of God. The problem is to restore to loyal love a race of beings made free and accountable under righteous law, but subjugated, with their own subsequent full assent, to the dominion of Satan. So long as men always find themselves entirely satisfied with a sinful state, when they first awake to the consciousness of it, they can not throw off the blame of its existence because of any antecedent agencies

outside of themselves in its production. The salvation which we want is from our own depravity, and that of our fathers, so far as this has entered as poison into our being. Now this is the intrinsic subject and value of revelation.

"What we believe is, that the death of the Redeemer purchased our life, our reconciliation, that without his obedience our sins would have borne their natural fruit of death. And whether we call this act a sacrifice on account of its being an offering to appease the Divine wrath, or a satisfaction, as it is a mode of payment which God accepts instead of the debt of obedience that we can not render, is of less importance than might at first appear. So long as we believe that the wrath of God because of our disobedience fell in the shape of affliction on Him who alone had so acted as to please God, the terms in which it may be expressed may be suffered

It

A sovereignty of compassionate wisdom marks this mediatorial interposition in our behalf, which we are in no condition to criticise, which we should have no inclination to modify. Jehovah no more asks counsel of creatures in inaugurating this dispensation of mercy, than he did in creating our world; than Christ did in his miraculous deeds. He, whose is the kingdom, must determine his own measures of its administration. pleases him to announce these glad tidings; to confer the gift of his Holy Spirit upon all who will receive it; to go as far as he sees to be best in inducing a disposition in human hearts to repent of sin, a preference in human wills to submit themselves to his supreme control. Grace is his own, and he has a right to do with it as he will. His will can not be wrong.

The true philosophy of neither the natural or the spiritual world demands the exclusion of God from it. His absence from either realm creates a more frightful vacuum than nature ever abhorred. Philosophy, in the indignant majesty of her outraged honor and veracity, rises in stern protest against this impious folly. But God demands admittance among us not as a silent spectator of our business or amusements. He will speak, and be listened to, as one entitled to rule wherever he is present. If he is God, he should assert this prerogative; he must, or be recreant to the obligations of eternal right and

1 Aids to Faith: Being a Reply to "Essays and Reviews." p. 404.

goodness. These should bear sway; and if he is better than his creatures, if he is infinitely excellent, then he should command, and all dependent souls should obey him. How cheerless a world without a God! How cheerless and unblessed a human spirit without God in the world!

The spirit of religious unbelief, in every degree of its indulgence, is a cold and dreary thing. It envelops the soul in an atmosphere of chill, damp mist, where it has no outlook, no genial warmth a curtain drawn closely all around it—a sort of premature death-shroud, instead of glimpses of light and beauty coming into it from earth and heaven. Infidelity is nothing but a chattering ghost, lean and lifeless for all purposes of its own comfort and others' benefit. Irreligion is scarcely better in any of its many forms. They differ rather in degree than in essential quality. They both shut out the true light which would lighten every one that cometh into the world. They do this as really while thinking to accept and to honor God, if he be only a God of their own imagining, received in a way of their own devising rather than in the methods of the divinely revealed mercy. Neither can give rest. Their nature is alien to our wants however it may gratify our taste. Their spirit is proud, self-reliant, self-flattering. They promise to make us gods in our own right, but it is only a repetition to willing ears of the old lie which was first whispered to our deceived mother" ye shall not surely die." But die she nevertheless did, for God had said it. And what he then said he has never recalled.

ARTICLE II.

THREE THOUSAND MILES UP THE MISSOURI.

[Concluded from Vol. V., page 461.]

JUNE 8th, 1865, finds us at Fort Rice.

This Post was built

last season by order of Gen. Sully, for military purposes, on a high and beautiful elevation of prairie land, on the west side of the river, overlooking a large extent of country.

The fort is built of halved logs, with parapet and one or two bastions, and well calculated for defence. There is a saw-mill attached to the fort, with numerous other out-buildings, forming quite a little village, and it is one of the pleasantest, as well as most important military stations on the Missouri River.

The fort is under the command at present of Col. Diamond, a young and very gentlemanly officer, who received us with much courtesy, presenting us with a glass of native wine, made from the wild grape which grows here in abundance, equal in flavor to the Catawba of the States.

The Colonel has, under his command, four companies of enlisted rebel prisoners, who have taken the oath of allegiance, and are said to be good soldiers. We were the first to convey to them the news of the capture of their old master, Jefferson Davis, when they universally expressed satisfaction, and said that death ought to be his portion: their lot they regarded as banishment, but hoped it would now soon end.

There are many friendly Indians, Sioux, encamped around the fort, seeking protection from hostile tribes, who are prowling about the neighborhood. One day last week, Lieut. Wilson, who was out superintending the chopping of some logs not a half mile from the fort, was shot and scalped by some Indians lying in ambush, when, mounting their horses, that they had fastened in the brush, they swept down past the fort with great fury, yelling and whooping, and before the guns could be brought to bear on them, or the troops mustered, they were away across the prairie, and out of sight. Two other men, soldiers, have been killed who were out herding the cattle and horses of the fort, and only yesterday, a band of three hundred Indians were seen upon the hills, in the distance. But there are no cavalry here, and pursuit is impossible. The fort is of no use in its present condition, unless it be to protect a few Indian traders, one of whom was arrested yesterday for selling the Indians whiskey and ammunition. Our frontier posts are in a most deplorable condition at present, and unless the government supply them with plenty of men and means, and specially good, firm, unflínching, sober officers, who will deal with unprincipled white men, they all might better be abandoned.

We were able to procure some ice here, but no additional

arms, and after spending an hour or two, distributing newspapers, pamphlets and such other reading matter as we had to spare, to the officers and soldiers, we left, feeling that a frontier military post, without sufficient means of defence, dependent for security on friendly Indians, many of whom, we understand, are fed at government expense, was not a paying institution.

We organized our passengers, this evening, into a regular day and night watch, for protection of the crew, while chopping wood, and for security against attack at any hour. We have one cannon, with plenty of grape and shell, many good repeating rifles and an abundance of revolvers. For want of a more war-like appearance, and to give the Indians an idea of our strength, our carpenter to-day manufactured some wooden guns from cotton-wood logs, painted them black, and mounted them on the hurricane deck, looking off upon the shore with as much gravity as did some other wooden guns in our recent campaigns.

Buffaloes begin to appear on the shore and on the prairie, and we find many dead ones floating down, having been killed by passengers on steamers, or drowned in crossing the river.

We met the steamer Yellow Stone this evening from Fort Benton, which place she left on the first of the month with seventy five passengers, and a cargo of furs belonging to P. Choteau & Co., bound for St. Louis. The Yellow Stone was the first steamer that left St. Louis for the mountains this season. She has made a quick trip so far and brings news of Indian troubles from above. We spent an hour along side, prepared and sent letters back to friends in America, and each boat then went its way rejoicing.

June 9th we passed old Fort Clark, now abandoned, situated on the west side of the river, upon a high prairie bluff, with timbered bottoms on the opposite side. Buffaloes are becoming plenty. But the boat has not laid to yet in any place where we could get a shot at them, but we are well supplied with antelope meat. A large herd of elk was seen to-day on the prairie. As soon as the boat lands a picket guard is set while the wood choppers are at work. At a signal whistle from the boat all hands come on board. We run from early dawn until dark, then anchor our craft in the stream, or make fast to some island, setting our night-watch, that we may rest in peace.