by one of the finest railway bridges in the country; and as the “Father of Waters” sped on in its course to the Gulf of Mexico, it made one think of the Nile and the long stretches of country through which that ancient river wends its way; but the teeming populations on the banks of the Mississippi have a more noble destiny than the subjects of the Pharaohs who sleep in the necropolis of Sakkarah and among the hills of Thebes and in innumerable tombs elsewhere.  They have the splendid civilisation of the Gospel, and they are a mighty force in the growth and stability of this nation, whose mission is worldwide.  At Transfer we passed over the Missouri by a long bridge, and entered Omaha, a city picturesquely situated, the home of that doughty churchman, Rev. John Williams, and of Chancellor James M. Woolworth, a noble representative of the laity of the Church.  Well may this place be called the “Gate City” of the Antelope State.  Towards evening we reached Lincoln, the home of William Jennings Bryan, the Democratic candidate for the presidency in 1896, and also four years later.  The house where he lives was pointed out to us.  It is a modest structure on the outskirts of the city, comporting with the simplicity of the man himself.  In the morning we found ourselves riding over the plains of Colorado.  Here are miles and miles of prairie, with great herds of cattle here and there.  Here also the eye of the traveller rests on hundreds of miles of snow fences.  At last we have our first view of the Rocky Mountains, that great rampart rising up from the plains like huge banks of clouds.  It was indeed an imposing view; and it reminded me of the day when, sailing across the sea from Cyprus, I first saw the mountains of Lebanon.  You almost feel as if you are going over a sea on this plain, with the Rocky Mountains as an immovable wall to curb it in its tempests.  One thought greatly impressed me in the journey thus far, and this is the wonderful agricultural resources of our country.  We were travelling over but one belt of the landscape.  Its revelations of fertility, of cultivation, of products, of prosperity, of thrifty homes, of contented peoples, made one feel indeed that this is a land of plenty, and that we are a nation blessed in no ordinary way.

The City of Denver is beautiful for situation, with the Rocky Mountains fifteen miles to the west.  As it is on the western border of the great plain, you can hardly at first realise what its elevation is.  Yet it is 5,270 feet above the sea, lacking only ten feet of being a mile above tide water.  The atmosphere is clear and crisp, and the mountain air exhilarates one in no ordinary degree.  Although founded only as far back as 1858, it has to-day a population of 134,000, and it is steadily growing.  It has well equipped hotels such as the Palace, the Windsor, the Albany and the St. James.  It has also fine public buildings, flourishing churches and schools, and many beautiful homes.  There is an