On April 18th we rose at half past 5, and commended ourselves to the Lord in prayer for the long journey to San Francisco--undertaken after much waiting upon God--before us; and at half past 8 left St. Louis in a Pullman's car. In the course of the morning we crossed the Missouri, and, the weather being lovely, with vegetation in perfection, the journey was delightful. In the evening we alighted at the supper station to partake of some refreshment, and at 9 o'clock retired to rest. The little room we occupied was comfortable, and the sleeping arrangements were excellent. Our windows remained shut, but as the six ventilators above them were left open, there was thorough ventilation; and, after passing a good night, at 9 o'clock the next morning we reached Council Bluffs. There, after breakfast, at half past 9, we got into the same train; but, having to take seats in one of the other carriages until the Pullman cars were unlocked, a multitude of emigrants--who were pouring into California at the rate of 1,000 per day--soon surrounded us, amongst whom we distributed some tracts. At Omaha, Nebraska (476 miles from St. Louis, where the Union Pacific Railway begins), we arrived in half an hour; and, after waiting three hours at the station, got into another train, without emigrants, and there engaged a second little private room. At 1 o'clock our journey was resumed, and soon after leaving Omaha we entered upon the prairies, which consist of millions of acres of wild, barren, uncultivated land, stretching away for hundreds of miles in all directions, with scarcely a bush, tree, or plant of any size upon them, and covered only with dry, short, stunted grass. Throughout this district (appropriately called the "American Desert") the cold must often be intense, for there is no shelter for many miles, and nothing to break the force and severity of winter gales. During this portion of our journey the train advanced only at the rate of 15 miles an hour; for, though travelling _apparently_ over immense level plains, we were gradually ascending some thousands of feet above the level of the sea. On April 20th, at noon, the engine got out of order, and as we and all the other passengers alighted from the train, there was further opportunity of distributing tracts and of surveying the immense plains around. Some idea could be formed also of the wilderness through which the Children of Israel passed, on their way to Canaan, the promised land. Soon after continuing our journey, the elevation became greater, and quantities of snow in large patches were seen lying on the ground. Just before reaching Archer, distant ranges of the Rocky Mountains became visible, having peaks covered with perpetual snow; but, in consequence of defective power in our locomotive, Cheyenne, the dinner station (a town 5,931 feet above the level of the sea, consisting chiefly of detached wooden houses,) was not reached until 4 p.m., when the train drew up at a short distance from the