the river is there narrow and deep. The boat stopped here an hour, and
I had a good opportunity to look about the place. The town appears to
have considerable trade with the back country. Its streets are laid
out with regularity; its stores and buildings are spacious, durable,
and neat. I heard that over $2000 were asked for several of the
building lots. A little way into the interior of the town I saw men at
work on a stone church; and approaching the spot, I determined to make
some inquiries of a boy who was briskly planing boards. First, I asked
how much the church was going to cost? About $3000, he replied.

"Are there any other churches in the place?"

"Yes, up there, where they are building."

"What denomination is that?"

"I don't know," he responded. "I only came into the place yesterday."

I thought he was doing well to begin to build churches so soon after
his arrival. And from his countenance, I have no doubt he will do
well, and become a useful citizen of the state. Hastings has its
democratic press-- the Dakota Journal, edited by J. C. Dow, a talented
young man from New Hampshire. The population of the town is about two
thousand. It is thirty-two miles below St. Paul, on the west side of
the river. There is nothing of especial interest between the two
places.

The great panorama which time paints is but a species of dissolving
views. It is but as yesterday since the present sites of towns and
cities on the shores just referred to showed only the rude huts of