At Carlisle, a village containing about a dozen houses, we got our vehicle repaired.  We required a new shaft:  the smith walked deliberately out—­cast his eye on a rail of the fence close by, and in half an hour he had finished a capital shaft of white oak.

The next town we came to was Lebanon, and we determined on staying there that evening, in order to witness a revival.  They have no regular places of worship on the prairies, and the inhabitants are therefore subject to the incursions of itinerant preachers, who migrate annually, in swarms, from the more thickly settled districts.  There appeared to be a great lack of zeal among the denizens of Lebanon, as notwithstanding the energetic exhortations of the preachers, and their fulminating denunciations against backsliders, they failed in exciting much enthusiasm.  The meeting ended, as is customary on such occasions, by a collection for the preachers, who set out on horseback, next morning, to levy contributions on another body of the natives.

From Lebanon we proceeded across a chain of hills, and came in on a beautiful plain, called the “American bottom.”  Some of those hills were clear to the summit, while others were crowned with rich foliage.  Before us, to the extreme right, were six or seven tumuli, or “Indian mounds;” and to the left, and immediately in front, lay a handsome wood.  From the hills to the river is about six miles; and this space appears evidently to have been a lake at some former period, previous to the Mississippi’s flowing through its present deep channel.  Several stagnant ponds lay by our road; sufficient indications of the presence of disease, which this place has the character of producing in abundance.  The beauty of the spot, and the fertility of the soil, have, notwithstanding, induced several English families to settle here.  Their houses are built of brick, and their gardens and farms are laid out and fenced tastefully.

After traversing the wood, we at length came in sight of the Mississippi, which is here about three quarters of a mile broad.  There is a steam ferry-boat stationed at this point, (opposite St. Louis), the construction of which is rather singular.  It is built nearly square, having in the middle a house containing two spacious apartments, and on each side decks, on which stand horses, oxen, waggons and carriages of every description.

St. Louis is built on a bluff bank.  The principal streets rise one above the other, running parallel with the river; the houses are mostly built of stone, the bank being entirely composed of that material, the walls whitewashed, and the roofs covered with tin:  from the opposite side it presents a very gay appearance.  The ascent from the water’s edge to the back of the town is considerable, but regular.  The streets intersect each other at right angles, as do those of most American towns.  They are much too narrow, having been laid down and built on from a plan designed by the Spanish commandant, previous to the Missouri territory becoming part of the United States.  The population is estimated at six thousand, composed of Creole-French, Irish, and Americans.